just another manic Tuesday

[augury_duncan]

Who: Duncan MacLachlan, Agatha Bole, Sturgis Podmore
Where: Ministry of Magic, later Edinburgh
When: 8:01 am, Tuesday, 21 October 1997
What: An investigation goes awry
Status: Complete

Comments

[agatha_bole]

Aggie had staunchly avoided looking at the Daily Prophet that morning, instead simply looking out the window at the Liverpool weather - rather cloudy and cool, but that was all. When she apparated to London, she was immediatley showered with rain, soaking her robes and hair to the bone.

Apparently London's weather had changed to match her mood.

She trudged into the Ministry and spent several moments using drying spells on her outer cloak and robes, but no matter what she did, her hair was an absolute mess, wet or dry. To make matters worse, she could practically feel the eyes on her. They had no doubt read the article the day before, and acted as both judge and jury, condemning her without a word in her defence.

She strode on with her head held high, dignity in her every step forward, unwilling to let them know she hated that they thought so ill of her because of a stupid, lying article. She was relieved when she finally reached Duncan's office and pulled off her cloak, then turned to face her partner's desk, her face still a

[augury_duncan]

Agatha picked this day to arrive late. Of all the days, she chose the day after the Prophet article ran. Brilliant girl. Excellent timing.

Duncan turfed the file in front of her. He didn't look at her, rather, he scraped his chair back, stood and glanced over the walls of his cube. Yes. Of course. People were pretending to not be interested in her arrival.

"You're late." It sounded more irritated than he intended. "If there's somewhere else you'd rather be, by all means."

[agatha_bole]

Aggie froze. Was that a suggestion? Had he been so shamed by the article that he wanted her as far away from him as possible? The thought hurt more than it should. He had been her partner for a year now, and his opinion mattered, whether she liked it or not.

Her every muscle tensed, as if preparing for a fight, she responded. "I'm where I want to be," she responded evenly, eyes meeting Duncan's as if daring him to call her a liar. "I simply got caught in the rain. I figured a few extra moments on drying spells was better than dripping water all over your desk."

Her eyes drifted away from his so that she was staring at the cubicle wall straight ahead of her. "Is there someplace else you would rather I be?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer but feeling it needed to be said.

[augury_duncan]

Duncan did not miss the flicker of hurt that passed over Agatha's face, before she schooled her expression into something more carefully neutral. Yes, fine idea. Start the day by upsetting Agatha over an article she didn't write.

He suppressed a grimace, took a long drag on the cigarette instead.

"We're going to Edinburgh in a few minutes. Williamson case." He gestured at the file. "Read."

[sexyevilone]

Fletcher. Mundungus 'Dung' Fletcher. He was nothing but a rotten thief, and Sturgis had tired of finding a way to make the bloody man pay, and had instead thought of how long it had been since he had simply killed someone. That would satisfy him far more, and thus he quickly sent off a note to cancel his morning classes, pleading off with a supposedly short-term stomach ailment and a promise to visit Madame Pomfrey should the problem persist.

Now, as he approached the man's home with his black cloak and white mask, he was just about to enter when he saw the spark of a cigarette being lit. Who was there? He flattened himself against the side of the house and crept nearer, and in his concentration trying to see who stood in the downpour, he accidentally dropped his foot into a mud puddle, cursing under his breath as he was soaked to the knee.

[augury_duncan]

A splash and whispered muttering snapped Duncan from his contemplation. Someone had tripped on their way home from the shops? Or was someone sneaking around? Too quiet for someone simply on their way home.

He tossed his cigarette into a puddle, pulled out his wand. No need to glance at Agatha. She'd follow suit. She always did.

He inched slowly slowly along the side of the house, eyes narrowed. Sheets of rain were pouring off the eaves now, severely limiting visibility, but likely whoever was out there would not leave themselves open in the rain.

[sexyevilone]

Aggie paused at the splashing sound, watching Duncan's reaction to see if it was something she should be worried about. As he dropped his cigarette and pulled out his wand, she reached for hers and followed him.

Sturgis, realizing he'd been heard, went on the offensive. He shot off a leg-locker curse on the twosome before ducking behind the brick chimney that stuck out from the side of the house.

Aggie flattened herself against the wall, narrowly avoiding the curse shot her way. "Bloody hell," she muttered, feeling a slight trembling in her legs and looking to Duncan for reassurance that they - that she could do this, go back to work after what had happened.

[augury_duncan]

The curse missed Duncan by several inches. Right then. Not someone on their way home from the shops. He fired a blinding spell toward their attacker, didn't wait to see if it hit. He moved closer toward the chimney, quietly despite the puddles seemingly kicking water up at him.

A scrap of black robe peeked out from the chimney's edge before being swept aside. Possibly a Death Eater? In the daytime though, that was a bit off. Though the weather hardly qualified this morning as "day."