Fic: The Hour Between Part 5
Team: Team AU (rs_games)
Title: The Hour Between
Author: rev02a
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst
Word Count: 15,020
Summary: If Dumbledore was right, then a Marauder was the spy and everything James loved was in danger. His decision to change secret keepers will affect the Marauders, his wife and child, and the world at large far more than he expected.
Author's Note: Thanks a billion to my dear friend and beta S.!
Prompt: Orange words
Back to Part Four
Sirius’ office was in the far corner of Level Two’s Auror offices. Remus slipped by the rows of uniform desks and cubicles silently. There was no one there that he could see, but the Order already knew that there were at least three spies in the Ministry; who was to say that these had not placed magical bugging devices in the buildings?
Remus paused before unlocking the door the office. He quickly looked around the floor, still no one there and still no light from the atrium. One well placed “alohomora” and the lock popped open.
The office had never been clean, Remus knew, but it had also never been this messy. The drawers from the desks had been pulled out and thrown about the room, their contents spilled on the floor. Remus lit his wand and held it aloft, surveying the damage.
If Edgar and Sirius had found the key, it was gone now. The hope that had been building in his chest since speaking to Lily began to diminish. Remus turned back to the door, preparing to go. His cloak brushed some parchment as he turned and he heard them shift. His wand cast shadows all around him, but something reflected light back at him. Remus paused and looked down.
The edge of his cloak had uncovered a brass nametag. Remus leaned down and lifted the nameplate. He cradled it in his hand. The name “BLACK” seemed to mock him.
Remus felt a sob rising in his throat. He shoved it back down and squeezed the nameplate tightly. The edge of the metal cut into his palm. Remus blinked dramatically, before willing his tears away. The mess around his feet came into focus. There, next to his boot, was a framed photo of the Marauders and Lily.
The frame was broken, the glass was shattered and missing and the wooden frame was splintered. The occupants of the photograph were oblivious. They bunched together with arms over one another’s shoulders, each laughing and leaning into one another-suggesting too much ale. Lily kissed Peter on the cheek and Peter blushed. James looked outraged and punched Peter in the shoulder. Lily laughed. James grinned. Remus rolled his eyes until Sirius grinned savagely and leaned in to him for a kiss of his own. Unable to help himself, Remus lifted the photograph from the floor.
The movement caught their attention, apparently, because all five in the photograph focused on him. They waved and called to him, even his younger self laughed and waved. Remus turned the frame over and unclasped the latches, meaning to take it with him. As he did so, the photograph floated free of broken glass and fluttered to the floor.
It landed so that the back of the photograph was visible. There, scribbled on the back, was a note. The writing was definitely Sirius’, Remus reflected. He lifted the photograph and read the inscription. It chilled him to the bone.
Sometimes, Moony, keys are more valuable than time or money.
Clearly Sirius had been reading Muggle mystery novels again. That was the only influence Remus could credit for his lover hiding such a clue (or hiding a clue at all). Remus blinked slowly and began to arrange things in his mind. Lily said there was a key that would decode the Auror mission reports and that Sirius knew that a Ministry official had access to the key. And now Sirius was saying that the key was… what exactly?
Remus rocked back on his heels and leaned against the front of Edgar’s desk. Or the desk that used to be Edgar’s… before he was killed. Remus closed his eyes, silently honoring Edgar and his family. One day, he promised, he would grieve all these losses. He was so tired, he admitted. Once, he would have understood these Marauder games of word puzzles and hidden clues. They were part of their childhood, woven in with their ongoing pranks and thoughtless cruelties. But Remus was simply too tired now to remember how to play these games.
This is why, he thought, Peter Pan could never leave Neverland for very long. Once he tasted the outside world he wouldn’t have wanted to crow ever again. Games are difficult to play when one is faced with war. And death. And evil. And Inferi. And taxes. And unemployment.
And…
Keys are more valuable than time or money.
Money.
Remus’ eyes flew open.
“The key is in the accounts department,” he said aloud.
The Marauders in the photograph grinned at him. Sirius gave him the thumbs up. Lily clapped her hands in delight. Remus pocketed the photograph and Sirius’ nameplate and ran from the office.
The Auror’s Accounting Department was on the same level as Sirius’ office, but on the opposite side of the floor. Drooping potted plants framed the door. In his mind, Remus could hear Sirius ranting about the amount of paperwork that had to be submitted to that particular office.
“It used to be that all forms were submitted in triplicate, but then the Ministry for Magical Balance and Numerology-bunch of fucking loons-decided that eight was a more stable number than three so now we have to fill out three triplicate forms and remove one of them from the packet! Only now the Department for Equality in Magical Practices thinks that removing one particular sheet of the packet could be seen as preferential treatment for a certain color and that might offend someone… so now were rotate through which sheet gets thrown away!”
Merlin, that man could rant, Remus thought as he opened the door.
The loathed forms lined the top of shelves along the left wall and a small desk sat in the center of the room. Remus was surprised to find that a man was sitting behind the desk. His head was face down on the desktop and he snored and drooled onto the form under his cheek. Remus held his breath.
The man slept on.
Slowly, Remus looked along the wall. His wandlight reflected on the glass of several framed certificates. Some tired accounting books leaned haphazardly on shelves under the piles of forms. From where Remus was standing, there was no safe or even locked cabinet where someone would keep a secret key that would result in the death of many innocent, good people. That only left the desk.
“Of course,” Remus whispered.
He moved slowly into the office. The man at the desk remained unaware of the intruder. Remus’ wandlight cast strange gray shadows across the man’s face, but Remus could see that the man was dressed in a bright orange jumper and robe. Must be a Cannon’s fan, Remus thought. Remus’ attention was so trained on the man that he failed to see where he was walking.
Remus kicked the metal bin by the man’s desk. His boot caused a hollow ring to issue through the room. The man shifted and snorted, but slept on. Remus closed his eyes and sighed in relief. The man shifted again and rested an arm up onto the desk. His sleeve caught on the rim of the desktop and pulled his robe sleeve back.
Even in the watery gray light, the Dark Lord’s mark stood out like a lighthouse signal. The snake flicked its tongue at Remus and curled tighter around the skull. And Remus knew.
He moved swiftly. He kicked the man’s chair away from the desk. The man came away with a cry of surprise, but had no time to react. Remus grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the wall, hard. The man grunted in pain.
“All right, you fucker,” Remus growled, tightening his grip on the man’s windpipe. “I need to know where the key to the Auror reports is… specifically, I need to know where Voldemort and his cronies are keeping Sirius Black.”
The man strained upward and kicked his feet helplessly against the wall, trying to gain purchase. Remus squeezed. The man choked. He grappled at Remus’ arm, scratching and hitting in an attempt to breathe.
“Now, I have a theory,” Remus growled, leaning in closer to the man’s face, “that there is no physical key. I think that it’s all in your head. What do you think?”
The man gasped desperately and kicked at Remus. Remus didn’t even blink when the man’s shoe met his thigh. Instead, he shifted his weight and pulled the man from the wall. He shoved the Death Eater across his desktop. Office supplies scattered across the floor. The man gasped for breath. Remus loomed overtop him, his hands braced on the desktop on either side of the man’s head.
“Where is Sirius Black?” Remus growled again. He was so close that he could feel the other man’s panting breath on his face.
“The Dark Lord will be victorious,” the Death Eater rasped.
Remus began to strangle him again. The man gripped Remus’ wrists, but the lack of oxygen made his grip weak. His feet thrashed. His eyes were wild.
“Where is Sirius Black?” Remus repeated, his voice deadly cold.
His grip loosened and the man took a ragged breath.
“Riddle’s father’s house,” he answered, his voice rough.
“Thank you,” Remus replied, and then he strangled the man to death.
Last Part