The Burning Man Strikes [plot]

[marloww]

"Do you mean to say-"

"Oh, Merlin, no," Minerva huffed, bringing her butterbeer to her lips with a bewildered look to her eyes. "Child, I am well too old to even be thinking about calling anyone my boyfriendThe way the word rolled off her tongue brought a cracking grin to Marlow's face

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[so_harry]

It was a bloody Saturday afternoon, Harry in the middle of a proper moment of relaxation as a radio balanced on his knees as he laid back on the couch in the living room of his flat. It was the Ballycastle Bats versus the Falmouth Falcons and the Bats were up two hundred points when that bloody dragonfly caught him off guard, the radio falling from his knees and before Harry could even reach out to catch it, fell to the floor. The announcer's voice went deep and cracked before the radio fizzled completely. He groaned, rolling to his side as the dragonfly continued to hover.

Marlow never called out to him like this, certainly not sending a Patronus.

"Harry- we need you at the Three Broomsticks immediately-"

He frowned but wasted no time in grabbing his cloak and his wand before sticking his feet into a pair of ruddy trainers.

The crowd still had not dissipated as Harry Apparated just outside the post office. He slipped inside his cloak, taking off toward where everyone stood, the foul stench of gasoline hitting him as he approached. He could see Marlow and McGonagall talking in hushed tones on the outside of the crowd, both turning to look at him as he met them.

"What in the bloody hell is going on-"

"The Burning Man-" Marlow said, cutting him off. "He's a muggle or well- a squib-"

"What?" he asked, his brow furrowing as his eyes passed back and forth between them.

"They're dressed in Muggle costumes," McGonagall interjected, the lines on her face deeper than Harry remembered. "Silly Halloween costumes-"

"And the gasoline- you can smell it, can't you?" Marlow asked. "Why on Earth would a wizard or a witch need gasoline to start a fire?"

Harry didn't need to ask for any further explanation as his eyes wandered finally to the massive structures behind them. The stakes were singed dark, the dummies hanging there now as some sort of odd symbol. He swallowed hard, his whole body suddenly feeling heavy and worn. He looked back to Marlow, shaking his head.

"And no one saw anything?" he asked.

"No one is coming forward," McGonagall answered, a heavy sigh passing through her lips.

"Of course not-" he said, wearily. "Alright- thanks. Just stick around for a bit, yeah? I'll need to do a formal questioning once I get this scene under control."

But before he even waited for a response he passed by them, his wand in the air as he shot out a small jet of golden sparks and a loud crack. The sound spilled over the crowd, the curious murmurs silencing as Harry caught their attention.

"I'll need everyone to step back from the scene-" he called out. "Other Aurors will be on the scene immediately and we'll need to clear this area off- Anyone who's seen anything- head into the Three Broomsticks and we'll get to you-"

So much for a relaxing Saturday afternoon.