Closed: You Know What Needs to Happen Next
Harry had been pouring over the notes Hermione had given him for the past few days, his eyes nearly falling out of their sockets as he tried to retain it all. It all seemed too fantastical, too odd and unbelievable. Cults were not something he had any experience with- though the Death Eaters were probably the closest he had ever gotten. He just didn't know where to start.
And it didn't seem like the rest of his force knew either.
The overtime was wearing thin, the tensions were running high. Too many deaths, too much paranoia.
They had opened the case to Scotland Yard once they all realized who they were dealing with, thinking that alerting them would be the smartest idea. Harry had been weary about it at first, quite a few of them had been, to be honest. It wasn't as if the two worlds collided very well. But still, they were running out of options and Harry's gut told him there wasn't much time left before something big happened- at least, if that stunt they pulled in Hogsmeade was any indication.
"So, what exactly do you want us to do?"
The Captain was a tall, hefty gentleman who had an absurd handlebar mustache and a look on his face that led Harry to understand that he wasn't taking them seriously at all.
"Well, we were hoping you'd be able to offer us a little help-" Harry said, sparing a glance with Kingsley, still finding the sight of him out of his robes a little unnerving, though this whole experience was. "You see, this has sort of fallen out of our jurisdiction-"
"How long you lot been chasing after this group?"
"Going on a little over two months now-" Kingsley replied, cracking his jaw just slightly. "Though it's only come to our attention that a Mug- a erm, a non-magical group was behind it-"
"A non-magical group, eh?" The Captain raised his eyebrows, his fat thumbs hooking into his suspenders.
"Which is why we came to you-" Harry completed, offering him a hapless look, one he didn't use very often.
"Well, I don't think there's much we can offer you, to be quite honest-"
Harry blinked and Kingsley shot him a stern glance.
"We've given you everything we've got-" Harry said, rubbing at the back of his neck, his nerves beginning to shake. "Full-detailed picture descriptions, maps of every single attack, all the work we've done with the hospitals here to figure out the substance-"
"Look, I don't mean to be difficult-" the Captain cut in. "-but frankly, this just isn't something we have the resources for-"
"Right, well, thank you for your-" but before Kingsley finish his sentence, Harry took a step forward.
"Do you understand how many lives we lost?" he asked, his brow furrowed in frustration. "How hard we've been trying to catch these guys-"
"Kid, I don't know what to tell you- we've got to worry about our own kind of people here- we don't have the time or the energy to waste on this magical business of yours-"
Something in Harry snapped then, all the frustrations of the case, the searing headache coursing through his brain, the looming failure of never catching who was behind all these murders- he just swung back and cracked the Captain right across his face.
--
"You know what needs to happen next, don't you?"
Kingsley's voice was quiet, even, causing Harry to sit rigid in his chair. He hadn't ever seen his mentor like this, so calm before. Harry's knuckles were red, bruised from that crack against the Captain's face. He was still riled up, his whole body buzzing from the adrenaline.
"I know-" was all Harry could muster, his eyes not quite reaching Kingsley's.
"I'll expect your badge on my desk by the end of the day-"
And it didn't seem like the rest of his force knew either.
The overtime was wearing thin, the tensions were running high. Too many deaths, too much paranoia.
They had opened the case to Scotland Yard once they all realized who they were dealing with, thinking that alerting them would be the smartest idea. Harry had been weary about it at first, quite a few of them had been, to be honest. It wasn't as if the two worlds collided very well. But still, they were running out of options and Harry's gut told him there wasn't much time left before something big happened- at least, if that stunt they pulled in Hogsmeade was any indication.
"So, what exactly do you want us to do?"
The Captain was a tall, hefty gentleman who had an absurd handlebar mustache and a look on his face that led Harry to understand that he wasn't taking them seriously at all.
"Well, we were hoping you'd be able to offer us a little help-" Harry said, sparing a glance with Kingsley, still finding the sight of him out of his robes a little unnerving, though this whole experience was. "You see, this has sort of fallen out of our jurisdiction-"
"How long you lot been chasing after this group?"
"Going on a little over two months now-" Kingsley replied, cracking his jaw just slightly. "Though it's only come to our attention that a Mug- a erm, a non-magical group was behind it-"
"A non-magical group, eh?" The Captain raised his eyebrows, his fat thumbs hooking into his suspenders.
"Which is why we came to you-" Harry completed, offering him a hapless look, one he didn't use very often.
"Well, I don't think there's much we can offer you, to be quite honest-"
Harry blinked and Kingsley shot him a stern glance.
"We've given you everything we've got-" Harry said, rubbing at the back of his neck, his nerves beginning to shake. "Full-detailed picture descriptions, maps of every single attack, all the work we've done with the hospitals here to figure out the substance-"
"Look, I don't mean to be difficult-" the Captain cut in. "-but frankly, this just isn't something we have the resources for-"
"Right, well, thank you for your-" but before Kingsley finish his sentence, Harry took a step forward.
"Do you understand how many lives we lost?" he asked, his brow furrowed in frustration. "How hard we've been trying to catch these guys-"
"Kid, I don't know what to tell you- we've got to worry about our own kind of people here- we don't have the time or the energy to waste on this magical business of yours-"
Something in Harry snapped then, all the frustrations of the case, the searing headache coursing through his brain, the looming failure of never catching who was behind all these murders- he just swung back and cracked the Captain right across his face.
--
"You know what needs to happen next, don't you?"
Kingsley's voice was quiet, even, causing Harry to sit rigid in his chair. He hadn't ever seen his mentor like this, so calm before. Harry's knuckles were red, bruised from that crack against the Captain's face. He was still riled up, his whole body buzzing from the adrenaline.
"I know-" was all Harry could muster, his eyes not quite reaching Kingsley's.
"I'll expect your badge on my desk by the end of the day-"