Mail Ⅲ

The library grows darker as the sun sets behind the mountains. With a happy sigh, Sirius Black sits up and proclaims, "It's nearly time for dinner! We best head down or the best bits will be gone!"

"Yes!" Peter Pettigrew gratefully said keenly setting his book down. His head ached and felt stuffed to the brim. He had learned more in one single afternoon than in an entire lesson.

Remus Lupin carefully begins to pack up his things, while James does the same. Almost done, James frowns and asks, "Aren't you coming with us, Rowan?"

Without glancing up to reply, Rowan murmurs, "No," shooing them away with one hand.

The four Gryffindors exchange mixed glances, before James self-importantly declared, "In that case, we'll join you after dinner."

Rowan froze before warily glancing up at James with a resigned expression. "If I accompany you to dinner will the four of you leave me alone?"

"I can't promise anything," James loftily said causing Sirius to smirk, Peter to gloat, and Remus to be unable to hide a smile.

Seeing that she has no choice left, Rowan reluctantly gathers her things and returns the journal to the archive. She carefully noted where she left off, before unwillingly trudging along after them. On their way out of the library, they all politely waved goodbye to Madam Pince, the librarian somewhat mollified barely returns the greeting with the smallest of head nods.

Once they are out of the library further down the corridor, Sirius leisurely stretches enjoying his newfound freedom. "Ug, I thought I was going to suffocate in there!"

"Mm, the library can be quite dull," James vehemently agreed as Lupin ruefully shakes his head.

However, Peter Pettigrew on the other hand unhappily glared at Rowan, who sneered back as if saying, "The feelings mutual, buddy."

Noticing the silent standoff, Sirius intervenes and wraps a playful arm around Pettigrew. "C'mon, Pettigrew, where's your smile?" Pettigrew wrinkles his nose as Sirius drags Pettigrew a few feet away from them and pokes general fun at him. James laughs mischievously at Sirius's antics and follows suit as they mercilessly tease Pettigrew.

Rather than trailing after them, Lupin remains a step behind. "By the way, thanks," Remus softly said.

"For what?" Rowan snorted in reply.

Lupin grins knowingly at Rowan's attempt to feign innocence, before rushing off after his three friends. The four boys tease each other until they get to the Great Hall, where they hurriedly head over to their Gryffindor table. They wouldn't have anything to eat otherwise!

Rowan joins the Slytherins sitting down next to her roommates. She serves herself a plate of food, while a wide knowing grin appears on Silvia's face. Sensing the gaze of her three dormmates, Rowan finally snapped, "What?" Unable to stand the smirk on Silvia Flint's face.

"Nothing," Silvia ruefully grinned as her blue-gray eyes had a rather annoying twinkle to them.

"Nu-uh!" Tiffany Topsy protested; her strawberry blond bobbed hair swayed in protest as well. "We were just talking about how Rowan entered the Great Hall with four boys!"

"Merely a coincidence of that I'm sure of," Bethanie Fawley sternly interjected causing her freckles to twitch on her nose.

Rowan gratefully stares at Bethanie, who gives her a nod as if saying, "Girl, I've got your back."

Tiffany shakes her head in disappointment causing her strawberry blond hair to sadly sway. "Aw, I finally thought I had some good gossip," Tiffany lamented out loud.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Silvia retorted with a gleaming knowing look in her blue-gray eyes.

"Be quiet and eat already Silvia," Bethanie chided them in a maternal tone. "And you, Tiffany!" The two girls obediently do as there are told as if unable to disobey Bethanie's command.

Rowan swallows a mouthful and sincerely says, "If I were a boy, Bethanie, I would definitely marry you."

"Wait, why not me? I'm the cutest!" Tiffany shrieked indignantly. "Or Silvia, since she's got the most money out of all of us!"

"It's because Bethanie's the sweetest," Rowan frankly countered causing Tiffany to sputter indignantly.

"I have the feeling that Bethanie shan't lift a finger for the boys will more than willingly come to her like bees to honey," Silvia pensively remarked.

"I'll drink to that," Rowan said holding up her goblet in the air for emphasis. The four girls burst out into laughter and continued to tease each other for the rest of the meal. It was so nice that Rowan decided to not head back to the library and take a break for the rest of the evening.

*

A sleepy mail clerk received a package that passed through the inspection checkpoint within the Ministry of Magic. The mail clerk with a wave of his wand sends the package via duct directly landing in the Auror Corps mail slot. Inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Auror Corps is mostly empty except for a few late-night owls and the Aurors assigned to be on late-night duty.

The two redhead brothers, Auror Fabian and Gideon Prewett approach the mail slot. There sitting innocently in the pile is an enchanted growling dragon doll fluttering its wings and guarding a bouquet of red prickly roses. A slip of parchment flutters to the ground as the handsome Gideon reaches over to catch it.

"Hallows Eve?" Gideon muttered out loud.

"Is this one of your friend's practical jokes, Gideon?" The long-nosed Fabian suspiciously asked his younger brother.

"No, we haven't pranked each other in a while," Gideon murmured in concentration. "Plus, they would never send a single message with a date."

The two Prewett brothers abruptly freeze and share a look. It occurred to them that this might be for Auror Moody. And if so, then it would be regarding the business, they are bound to keep secret.

Gideon incinerates the message with a whirl of his wand, while Fabian grabs the growling dragging and prickly bouquet, and sets it upon one of the Auror's desks. No use in letting a perfectly good gift go to waste. The Auror in question would think it hilarious!

Excusing themselves, Gideon and Fabian hastily draw on their cloaks. As they approach the lifts, Gideon says, "I'll be the decoy."

Fabian nods his head in agreement as the two brothers ride the lift to the main lobby floor. They head to the left to floo fireplaces to depart. Gideon floo's away first followed by Fabian into an emerald, swirling, twisting green fire. A bit dizzy, Fabian appears in an open chimney area. Gathering his bearings, he apperates elsewhere, before making his way on foot to a hidden flat.

The flat is in an obscure part of London. There are muggle vagrants roaming about. A rat scurries across the sidewalk with a piece of trash in its mouth. Sidestepping the drunken vagrants and the muggle women and men standing on the side of the street, he arrives at a small flat in the lower basement.

Fabian glances around back knocking thrice, before bending down to whisper to a bronze lion door knocker. "Acid pops," he said before the soft click of the door unlocking is heard.

Fabian hurriedly steps inside shutting the door behind him. In the dim lighting of the single candlelight, he squints until his eyes adjust. There sleeping in a velvet armchair is the dozing figure of Alastor Moody. Fabian steps forward when the floorboard loudly creeks under his foot.

Half-asleep, Moody viciously points his wand at the intruder. "It's me, Moody! Fabian Prewett!" The younger Auror frantically shouted tossing his hood back and holding his empty hands in the air.

"Oh, it's just you, Prewett," Alastor Moody rumbled sitting back in his chair. "Why have you come here? I thought we agreed to not meet unless it was urgent."

"It is," Fabian furrowed his long nose. "We received an anonymous gift this evening at Headquarters. An enchanted dragon doll guarding a bouquet of prickly red roses with a single attached message. The message only read a single date, 'Hallows Eve.'"

Moody's eyes widen in recognition of the symbolism of the enchanted dragon doll. The Prince's crest bore a wyvern, it could only be from the child. He furrowed his brow at the red prickly roses. The thorny red roses are a symbol of the shedding of blood, in other words, mortal peril. All in conjunction with the date on the message, there was to be something planned.

"So it is," Moody rose to his feet grimly striding to a map-covered wall. There are red lines crisscrossing across the map, cut-out pictures of the Daily Prophet pinned to the board, and scores of pins highlighting some relevant importance only known to him. "There," he pointed to a single individual. The photograph is of a certain member of the Ministry of Magic.

"What's there?" Fabian asked in bewilderment rising to his feet to get a closer look at the map-covered wall.

"I've been watching them," Alastor Moody gruffly said. "There had been an increase in their movements when all chatter went silent three days ago. No side meetings. Simply nothing."

Fabian scrunched up his long nose in deep thought. "They are gathering, no. They were planning and now their plans are finalized." He took a step closer to the map, before giving up. "Where will the take place, Moody?"

Alastor points to a vivid red circle on the map. "A preemptive first strike. They will strike fear into the very core of society, they will aim for the Ministry of Magic."

"They wouldn't dare, would they?" Fabian said in blatant disbelief. "It's sheer suicide! The Ministry of Magic's wards cannot be easily broken!"

"They can, and they will," Alastor confidently retorted. "They have had more than ample time to plan such an attack."

"We must immediately inform the Minister of Magic!" Fabian hurriedly said moving to turn away.

"No, there is no need, they're not going for the head, but rather for the belly of the beast," Alastor rasped stopping Fabian in his tracks.

"If not the Minister of Magic, then who?" Fabian asked in bewilderment.

"The Department of Mysteries," Alastor growled.

Fabian shuts his mouth with a snap as Alastor knowingly says, "The list, Prewett, recall who is in power to do so."

Fabian mutely nods his head as Alastor turns back to look at the map. "We must be prepared to destroy them even in cold blood, Prewett. We cannot allow the Department of Mysteries to fall into their hands."

Fabian clenched his fists, before making up his mind. "We shan't hesitate."

"As it should be," Alastor approvingly said reaching for his cloak hanging on the back of the armchair he had been sleeping in.

"Wait, just where are you going at this hour, Moody?" Fabian asked as Alastor Moody with a wave of his wand caused the fireplace to burst into flames.

"To gather reinforcements," Alastor said, before tossing the sparkling floo powder into the fireplace. The flames roar and turn green as he resolutely steps forth and vanishes.

"Good luck," Fabian called out too late hearing only the echo of his voice. He drenches the fire, before departing on foot locking the door behind him. He needn't have Moody would not risk returning to the particular safe house for the time being.