At the Entrance [ marked ]

[Megara Candlebright]

2 February


The world needed a few good reminders every now and then. After all, that's how many of them had started; the Dark Mark was a trend--an anti-establishment reminder of the failures of the past. Half the people who did it didn't believe in the cause, they liked stirring up trouble. That had been Megara too, at first. Until she was recruited and really began to See.

After the so-called Deva 'invasion' of Hogwarts, the trend had started to die out. The non-believers knew they'd get the book thrown at them if they were caught, and tried to move on to some new hobby. Cowards. The world needed reminders.

So Meg took it upon herself to hand out a few of those reminders. A dark mark floating in the sky was so dramatic. Better to go more subtle, and more complex. Better, for example, to carve one in the glass at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic; better to make it stick so it can't be charmed away.

[ This thread is open to anyone and everyone. I will likely not be returning to it, but react however you would like. ]

[Lavinia Cromwell]

The sun was just beginning to rise over Muggle London, the nearby buildings casting eerie shadows over the half-lit neighborhood. The noise of early morning traffic echoed in the distance, and here and there muggles scurried off to work, hands stuffed deep into pockets and scarves wrapped snuggly around their necks. Most only gave a curt nod as a greeting as they passed each other, choosing to forego the usual morning chitchat in favor of getting inside quickly.

One person, however, seemed impervious to the cold. Lavinia Cromwell strolled casually down the street, eyeing the red-faced muggles with apparent amusement. Ever so slowly she peeled back a single, thin glove--stylish, but terribly impractical in this weather--and glanced at the silver watch on her narrow wrist. A few minutes past seven. Good. Fixing her glove, Lavinia started forward with renewed vigor. Her meeting wasn't until eight, but Lavinia took some petty satisfaction in the uneasiness that Dobbins—or Robins? Whatever his name was—would feel upon being informed by his secretary that Madam Cromwell had already been waiting patiently for almost half an hour. The man wouldn't have time to catch his breath before Lavinia sprang her proposition on him, and with any luck he'd approve it quickly just to get her out of his office.

Rounding a corner, Lavinia spotted the red telephone booth that served as the entrance to the Ministry of Magic building. Making a beeline for the booth, she almost collided with a muggle man who was shivering so violently that she half expected him to collapse at any moment. Honestly, she thought with a sniff, a warming charm was about the simplest spell one could cast. And muggles couldn't even do that. How pathetic. Why anyone would possibly be proud to--

Wait.

What was that?

Lavinia had reached the Ministry entrance, and had just pulled open the door when she spotted something green and familiar out of the corner of her eye. Lavinia would know it anywhere: the Dark Mark. Sucking in her breath she glanced wildly about. It had probably been put there by pranksters, but still... especially with her past, her survival instincts were telling her to distance herself from the Mark as much as possible. It was her paranoia talking, she knew. Who would connect a well-respected Ministry official with this delinquent graffiti? Still, her paranoia was the reason Lavinia was not currently rotting in Azkaban. After all, she noted, as far as she knew, none of the other well-respected Ministry officials had the very same mark tattooed on their left forearm.

[Ben London]

Ben was having difficulty dragging himself out of bed and getting to training on time these last few months. With Beni off to Italy and so far from him, he'd simply lost the will to function. Ben didn't do well without the love of his life. He knew she wasn't gone forever, but it was still a long time and he missed her more than anything. Not waking up to her was the worst part of it all and he'd give anything to just have her there one morning. However, she was off chasing her dream and even though Ben was alone, he was still so proud of her. When she'd told him about the great job, Ben had been thrilled for her. That was, until she told him it was in Italy. They had discussed it and there was no way Ben was going to hold back his wife from doing what she wanted and he's agreed to let her go. He was thrilled for her and knew from her letters that she was having an amazing time. It wouldn't be too long now until he had a few days off in a row that he could go see her and spend time with his wife, but it was killing him. Each day dragged on for what seemed like eternity, but Ben pushed through it. He knew it would all be worth it in the end.

Rounding the corner of the street, Ben yawned and scratched his head, shaking out his now longer and very messy hair. Without his own stylist, Ben had given up and grown a bit of a mop top. It didn't matter though because he actually preferred it a little longer; it was Beni who insisted he kept it short. However, his mind was drawn from his wife as he looked up and saw a woman standing in the way of the entrance to the Ministry.
"Excuse me ma'am, I need to ge--" but Ben was cut short. He looked at the door of the telephone box and gasped. The Dark Mark had been etched into the door.

Running his fingers over it, Ben looked back at the woman who he only recognized from passing in the busy halls of the Ministry.
"Did you see anyone around here?" he asked the woman, snapping automatically into Auror mode.

[Lavinia Cromwell]

Lavinia was startled out of her reverie when a veritable giant of a man came up suddenly beside her. She hastily drew her arm away from the door. The man was presumably an auror, and Lavinia felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her body. She hated aurors, and quite naturally so. The fact that it looked like a comb hadn't been anywhere near his hair in the past five months did nothing to endear the man to her. Craning her neck for a better view of his face--he was at least a full head taller than her, and probably twice her weight--she breathed an inward sigh of relief. He was young, much too young to have been an auror during the Dark Lord's second defeat.

Schooling her expression into that of A Concerned Citizen, Lavinia shook her head. "I haven't seen anyone about here, sir," she added. "Nobody, except for a few muggles." Lavinia placed her hands on her hips. "You will catch whoever is responsible for this, right? It's awful, simply awful. Defacing Ministry property! Vandalism!" Not to mention an affront to all that the Dark Lord stood for.

[Ben London]

Ben looked suddenly startled when he realized the actual size of this woman. He'd been distracted by the Dark Mark and hadn't even noticed how tiny she was. And her attitude. Ben had no idea who she was or what she did, but all of a sudden she snapped at him, saying "sir" in that tone that sounded like she was talking down to him. Ben hated being an Auror-in-training at times like these. No one took him seriously yet and the other, older Aurors referred to him as "kid" most of the time. Now this woman was giving him attitude when he was just trying to do the job he was training for.

"Please calm down, ma'am," Ben told her with a defeated sigh, "I'll inform the Head Auror immediately." He turned away from her, shaking his head and looking at the door again. Ben ran his fingers over it one more time before taking out his wand. He twirled it in his fingers for a moment, wondering if he could charm it away and then decided against it. When he told someone it was there, they were probably going to want to see it.

"How many Muggles were around, would you say?" Ben asked politely, trying to get some kind of idea of how this was going to be taken care of.

[Lavinia Cromwell]

Lavinia had over-acted, it appeared. Luckily the young auror simply thought she was upset, a somewhat understandable reaction. She decided to play along, after a surreptitious glance at her watch. After all, it wasn't as if she had anything better to do. She let out a nervous titter.

"Pardon me. I'm just a little...shocked...is all. I venture you're a bit too young to remember what this sign used to mean...what used to be found nearby." Lavinia shuddered. "It brings back bad memories." She glanced about. A few passing muggles glanced up at the pair, who were standing about in the cold conversing as if it were a lovely summer day.

"There were about seven or so muggles about, I'd guess," she finally answered, with a shrug. "I wasn't paying much attention to them."

[Ben London]

"No, I know what it means," Ben corrected her, feeling a little irritated that his age was becoming a factor again, "It used to mean someone had been killed. Now it's just vandalism...hopefully." Ben knew there would be more of an uproar if the symbol was indicating a death somewhere in the Ministry. It might just be a threat, telling them someone or something was about to strike, or a bunch of stupid kids that were just fooling around.

"You didn't see anyone close to the phonebox or maybe heading down the street away from it? Crossing the road?" Ben questioned the short woman, hoping to get some kind of useful piece of information out of her. Ben was not enjoying talking with her; something about the tiny woman seemed off and it gave him the creeps. He wanted to get inside and into his own department as fast as he could, but he knew he still had a job to do.

[Lavinia Cromwell]

At this, Lavinia pursed her already thin lips. Her annoyance at the man's inability to understand was genuine, even if the feeling behind it wasn't. “I'm sorry,” she said, her voice somewhat colder, “But there is a great difference between being aware of what the Dark Mark stands for, and actually understand the terror that we used to feel upon seeing it.”

She'd tried to play nice, he wouldn't have any of it. Fine then, let him have it his way. “I've seen plenty of people about. Crossing the street, walking down it, all of it. Although...now that I think of it,” she paused, screwing up her nose in concentration, “Yes, yes, there was a suspicious looking man. All bundled up, like the rest.” She nodded towards a passing muggle. “Went in to the booth for a few minutes. I saw him walking out as I turned the corner.”

[Jane Anwyl-Beaumanoir]

The day was cold, freezing by most standards but Jane didn't feel a thing. Dressed in her usual long dress and overcoat she trudged toward the Leaky Cauldron to go to work. Pink locks were almost hidden by a black hat that covered her ears. Her breath came out in puffs of mist as she walked across a crosswalk. People stared at her as she passed. Not many people wear Victorian-esque clothes on a daily basis, so Jane stuck out a little.

A small sneer appeared on her pink lips as a group of Muggle school children stared at her. They squeaked and walked away quickly, wanting to get away from her. Good idea on their part. Jane wasn't someone to trifle with, not on such a wretched day as today. Her green eyes shone with pure disgust as she watched the Muggles walk about. They had no idea that the women they passed was a witch who could kill them in a second.

She finally got to the Ministry's entrance, the halfway point from where she apparated from to The Leaky Cauldron. She noticed a woman who looked very familiar and a man who she did not know. They seemed to be in a discussion of sorts and it didn't look like it was going too well. She got closer and listened in. Jane's eyes glanced over at the telephone booth. What she saw made her stop in her tracks. The Dark Mark.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the green symbol etched there. Her heart started beating faster, mind started jumping with bliss. Finally, someone did something. Outwardly she showed none of this joy. Her face actually showed horror and disgust.

Turning to the man, who she now figured out was an Auror she gave him a dirty look. "Excuse me. Is this some sick joke?" She lowered her voice and stepped in closer. Her eyes wandered toward the dark mark, then back to the young man. "How could something like this happen?"

[Ben London]

Ben listened carefully to what the woman was saying. He made a mental not of it all, but suddenly a wave of uneasiness crashed over him. The more he looked at the woman, the more it didn't feel right standing there talking to her. This was what he was being trained for; to sense when danger was close, to know when someone was a little too shady. It had taken him too long to notice this woman wasn't quite right. But she talked about the man she'd seen, Ben took a glance around. There were several people on the street matching her description and Ben stared to scowl. Was she just toying with him? That annoyed him even more. And when they were joined by yet another woman who seemed keen on blaming Ben for this, the Auror-in-training groaned internally.

What is this, International Bitch Day? Ben grumbled angrily in his head. Just because he was going to be an Auror didn't mean he had all the answers and was going to catch all the bad guys.
"Miss, please. We're trying to sort this out," Ben said to the woman, trying his best to keep a professional demeanor. Looking around him, the three adults were starting to make a scene. More Muggles were out on the street now and three cloaked adults arguing in the street about some green symbol on a phonebox wasn't exactly the norm.

"We're creating a scene here," Ben told them in a hushed voice and then turned to the other woman who had joined, "Miss, if you're not a Ministry worker and don't have any business in the Ministry today, can you please continue along? We don't need to create suspicion."

[milo]

It was not every day that Milo decided to take the visitor’s entrance into the Ministry. He never needed to, found it a little tiresome, and didn’t feel the urge to bother with the muggles who could be found milling around the place. They never saw, never even caught a glimpse of the knowing witch or wizard who stepped into the phone booth and deliberately dialed the numbers, 6-2-4-4-2. The muggles didn’t notice as the inside of the booth carried it occupant down and finally out of sight to the underground of the Ministry of Magic.

It was a rare occurrence to see him outside in muggle London at all, let alone dressed like a muggle. It would put his name to shame, surely, but Bach had business to attend to in muggle London and felt the need to dress the part. He had previously abandoned his dress robes and cloak, opting instead for a black suit and plain deep red tie to match. His business was of a personal nature, and he felt in a slightly foul mood as he slowly worked his way back towards the Visitor’s entrance to the Ministry, not bother to use the fires as he was accustomed to.

He nursed his cup of steaming black coffee as he meandered to the front of a small crowd that had appeared to gather at the visitor’s entrance. He narrowed his eyes at the cause of all the hubbub, the Dark Mark, plastered nicely and neatly on the glass of the red phone booth. He turned to the young man who seemed to be running things and recognized him as Benjamin London, one of the Trainees in the Auror program.

Bach turned his head, taking in the scene. A small crowd had since gathered, consisting of Lavinia Cromwell, whom he knew to be one of the Hogwarts Governors, Ben London, Auror Trainee, and a young woman he was unable to identify. He sidled his way over to Cromwell and London, turning his attention to the latter. “ London, you see anything? “ He asked, his voice low and gruff. It would be stupid of them to discuss such matters out in the open, let alone in the muggle world. They might be ignorant, but Milo knew they recognized panic just as well as any other.

[Ben London]

Ben's heart sank right from his chest to his feet when he saw Milo Bach coming around the corner. Of course, a Senior Auror had to show up on the scene when young Ben was trying (and failing) to get things under control. But obediently, Ben snapped to attention when the man approached and spoke to him.
"No sir," he answered truthfully, trying to keep his voice from shaking, "I was just on my way to training when I noticed this on the door." He moved out of the way for Bach to get a closer look at the Dark Mark if he wanted to. He glanced at the two women, scowling at them. It was like they were on cahoots or something, purposely trying to sabotage him.

"I was just saying that maybe we should move this indoors," Ben repeated to his superior, "The street is starting to fill up."

[Lavinia Cromwell]

While Lavinia was not quite as astute as the young auror, she was hardly blind enough to miss the scowl that appeared on his face as she began describing the mystery assailant. Lavinia was nothing if not an excellent actress and even better bureaucrat, and a scowl was inappropriate for an auror interviewing a witness—particularly if said witness was as influential as Lavinia Cromwell.

Jane's entrance was hardly acknowledged by the older woman. Lavinia knew Jane quite well indeed, but their relationship was hardly one to discuss in front of an auror, no matter how inept he appeared to be. No, make that two aurors. The newest arrival, on the other hand, had quite a success record. Lavinia would have admired Milo Bach's work ethic, had it not been the very same man who had put a number of her associates behind bars. Wordlessly she redirected her attention from London to Bach, even as the former was (trying) to give a report.

“Milo,” she intoned, nodding her head politely in greeting. “Is he one of yours?”

[milo]

Bach’s gray eyes continued to survey the small scene gathered around the homely looking phone booth, tarnished by the Dark Mark etched on its glass window panes. He scowled at it, barely wishing to acknowledge the presence of something Ministry as a whole tried so desperately to remove all evidence of in the years following The Dark Lord’s Reign. And yet here it was, right on the Ministry’s doorstep.

No doubt, though, it was a childish act of vandalism, something to get employees worked up rather than anything to be concerned with. All the same, though, Bach turned to London, listening carefully to the young man’s words.

’ I was just saying that maybe we should move this indoors, ‘ It was the first notable thing to be heard from the Auror in Training, and Milo nodded his head curtly. “ Excellent idea, London. If you’d please take Miss Anwyl-Beaumanior inside and wait, I’ll attend to Miss Cromwell. “ He motioned to the young woman who’s name had just recently come back to him. He hadn’t heard a word from her, but insisted on her joining them inside the confines of the Ministry’s walls all the same.

“ He is indeed mine. “ He replied to Cromwell, taking claim on the Auror in Training. London was a promising student, but Bach felt this specific situation would do better handled by a more experienced Auror such as himself. “ In, please. “ He ordered in a polite manner to the two younger members of their group of four. The phone booth was spacious enough to comfortably fit two people and possibly several more, but it would be much simpler this way.

[Jane Anwyl-Beaumanoir]

Her heart was still beating like a drum but on the outside Jane was the picture of calm. This boy seemed quite ill equipped to handle such a situation like this. He couldn't even handle Lavinia and herself, something any good Auror could do. A slight scoff escaped her lips, too quiet for anyone to notice. She pulled her hat down a little farther, covering her ears.

Green eyes went back over to the dark mark. Her look wasn't adoration, but wonder. Someone had the guts to make this mark, this calling to those who hated those who tainted their pure blood. Jane's eyes went back to the group. The Auror was still trying to calm them down when they both were already calm. She wanted to roll her eyes at him and scoff, but that might give something away. She just looked back and fourth between the other two. This was going to be long.

As she was just about to find a way to get herself out of there someone else showed up. Someone she didn't want to see at all. Milo Bach. One of the men who sent her parents away to die in Azkaban. Her stomach burned with something evil. In the end it wasn't bad. She didn't really care all to much for her parents. They never cared much about her either.

Everything else happened so fast that all Jane could do is listen in and glean any knowledge she could. Nothing much, just babble between the three others. Jane stood there, but didn't feel useless. She couldn't do much at the moment. She wasn't a Ministry Employee or someone of great importance, she was just there.

“ Excellent idea, London. If you’d please take Miss Anwyl-Beaumanior inside and wait, I’ll attend to Miss Cromwell. “

She turned to took to the older man, a somewhat relived smile appeared on her lips. The perfect actress when needed she took a step backward and walked toward the defiled phone booth. "Alright, Sir." She said, her voice sweet. She looked over at London, expression sweet as pie.