Pink Chalk Glows

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"Is that the message?"

Two Aurors with a faint layer of magic surrounding their body carefully approached the group of tied-up people dressed in Death Eater regalia. Those who had seen the previously delivered groups of Snatchers noticed how the Death Eaters had been handled with much less care than the Snatchers— the heavy bruising all over their faces, which made it difficult to identify even a single one made it clear that no love was spared for this particular group of people.

Rufus Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes at the big white envelope stained with mud stuck to the chest of one of the Death Eaters. He spoke to Amelia, "It has your name on it. . . do you perhaps know what it might be about?"

"Of course not. How would I? I have only been face-to-face with the man for mere minutes."

"Anything he said in those minutes?"

"You already know what he said in those minutes. You saw the memories first hand."

"And I can't thank you enough for sharing them with us."

Amelia hummed as she watched the Aurors dislodge the envelope after careful checking and consideration about the dangers it might contain. The Aurors hovered the envelope, each standing at a distance from it. The flap was gently unsealed, with the rest of the glued creases and folds coming undone to form a straight platform for the envelope's content to sit upon.

". . . What is that?" asked Amelia.

"It is not a letter, to say the least," said Scrimgeour in reply, but even the seasoned Auror was confused by what he was seeing.

On the disassembled envelope laid a palm-sized black puck that shined like a polished marble gleaming in the moonlight. The Auror handling the envelope and puck stepped closer and waved his wand over it, but just as the magic touched the puck, it vibrated, causing everyone to take a step back. The next second, the puck gained a life of its own and jumped off the paper onto the ground.

Amelia immediately felt one rough hand each on her shoulder. She jumped in surprise and hurriedly glanced to her side to see her Auror guard detail standing firm and alert.

"Madam Minister, the moment we deem the situation to be dangerous, we will be apparating away along with you. Please don't resist. The apparition location will be a safe house in a discreet location maintained by the DMLE for such situations," said one of the Aurors.

Amelia nodded, recalling the week before she had taken chair as the Minister of Magic, where she had been briefed about all of the security details, and her time as the Head of DMLE, where she had signed over the Minister's protection many a time.

"I understand; do whatever you must," she said.

The black puck thrummed violently before going still silent. The puck's top glowed, and a shimmering image of a man holographed over the puck. The dark silhouette's image broke and flickered before the transparent shape of light stabilized, and the dark shadow lightened to reveal the silhouette's identity.

"Greetings," said the holographic image of the Invisible Vigilante. "If you're seeing this means the carrier had delivered the message and the envelope was opened. I hope that the recipients are those in the Ministry. This recorded message is taking responsibility for the use of my magic against the Snatchers and Death Eaters. . ."

It confused many about why the Invisible Vigilante would suddenly own up to his crimes. However, to those in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it was not unusual for terrorists to claim credit for their misdeeds and acts of terror. But this was unusual to even them. . .

". . . However, the reason real reason for sending this message is to urge the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to exploit the opportunity in front of you. . . The Taboo cast by the Dark Lord Voldemort—"

Everyone around them gasped, expecting the recording to get interrupted any moment.

"— while a curse can also be a boon if utilized so. . . . The Snatchers and Death Eaters who came joyously to my calls of the Taboo were baited to arrive at the fate of losing their magic and paying for the sins they have committed. Turn the curse into a boon— summon the Snatchers, and once in a while, you will get a Death Eater." The hologram looked around as if he was actually seeing them. "I will keep summoning them, take away their magic and leave them at your doorsteps. I say that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement weed them out until the Snatchers and Death Eaters no longer dare to answer the calls— until Voldemort himself pulls his own magic down.

War is upon this country, and it can not be fought with one side. . . if you do not become the other side, then I will. . . . That is all."

The puck's light flickered, and the holograph was extinguished, leaving behind the circular disk the message from the Invisible Vigilante.

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Back in the same meeting room, the people in the previous meeting sat again to discuss. . . but this time, they had a black puck sitting in the center of the table.

"More than fifty Snatchers and six marked Death Eaters just to send a message," Amelia sighed.

Scrimgeour sneered as he spoke, "He's just an attention seeker, setting a bad example. I expected the bad example, but I thought he would be more discreet," he said while looking at Saul Croaker.

"What does that mean?" asked Croaker.

"Oh, don't act clueless," Scrimgeour scoffed. "He is clearly one of your Unspeakables. . . who knows if he is retired or is still working under your nose."

"Are you mad? What proof do you have?"

"The vigilante called the Dark Lord by his name; clearly he didn't summon any Snatchers or Death Eaters. . . and he had been clearly summoning then left and right today," barked Scrimgeour.

It was then that Dumbledore spoke up to diffuse the situation. "I won't refuse Scrimgeour's theory about the possibility of the Invisible Vigilante being an Unspeakable," he looked to Croaker, "but speaking Voldemort's name isn't something only Unspeakables can do."

Croaker's pupil shrunk as he studied Dumbledore before turning to Scrimgeour. "The Invisible Vigilante is not part of my department. We have checked for that possibility multiple times."

"Or so you say. Who knows what goes down in that department of yours. Maybe lying through your teeth is part of that unnamed code of yours," Scrimgeour spoke in a biting tone.

Dumbledore stood up from his chair, hands raised, "Both of you're wasting your time fighting. Let us all calm down and get on the same page because we will not get anywhere with all this fighting." He waited for Croaker and Scrimgeour to calm down before continuing, "Now, let us converse like civilized individuals. What did we learn from that message?"

"He apparently wants us to attack Death Eaters and Snatcher," Amelia sighed.

"I see no problems with it," said Scrimgeour. "I have been suggesting that since the day the Taboo went up around the country."

"It is crude, but I see no faults with that plan of action. I don't care for the Snatchers, but every Death Eater can be a valuable source of information," Croaker said and then eyed Scrimgeour. "I know you don't have the permission to get inside," he tapped his temple, "but if you hand them to me and don't ask questions, I can get you valuable information."

"Unspeakable Croaker! That is out of law even for the Department of Mysteries!" Amelia warned.

"It is war, Madam Minister," Croaker shrugged. "We need to employ some extreme measures in drastic situations."

"And create such a dangerous precedent for your department. No," Amelia shook her head. "The mind is out of interrogation boundaries for reasons. It is a right that every wizard and witch have and can't be breached in any circumstances."

Croaker sighed. He looked like he wanted to speak more but chose to stay silent and simply observe.

"What else?" asked Amelia.

Dumbledore replied, "He is going to continue this up. The Taboo will continue to summon Snatchers and Death Eaters. If he continues this, there will come a time when groups of Death Eaters will answer the calls. I'm sure he will be fine; he will even welcome it— but the people who make mistakes of calling Voldemort's name will suffer— Snatchers might be greedy for rewards, but Death Eaters wouldn't care."

"We need to up the efforts to highlight the Taboo's danger," Amelia said with a serious note. "If he will continue doing this, then I don't see why we should not. Prepare for the Aurors to replicate his work— and keep it clean."

There were connotations in those words made so that it was up to Scrimgeour to interpret what he meant by keeping it clean. It was Amelia's way of saying that the responsibility would lie solely on Scrimgeour's head if things went wrong.

"Understood, Madam Minister," Scrimgeour was happy with that.

As the parties conversed, Dumbledore twitched his finger, and the puck silently slid across the table to him. He held it in his palm and stared with a train of thoughts running through his eyes. Water magic wasn't that uncommon; it might be just a coincidence, thought Dumbledore.

"Is there something wrong with the puck, Dumbledore?" asked Amelia.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am just observing it. Please continue; I will let you know if I find something."

He silently reached into the oversized sleeves of his robes and pulled out a small vial of reddish-pink chalk. Dumbledore could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he gently and sneakily directed his magic into both the chalk vial and puck. He clutched the vial in his grasp, hiding it within with only the upper part barely visible and only to Dumbledore himself.

He slowly inched his hands closer until his came hand came to a halt.

Dumbledore stared down at his clenched hand, and there, from the top, a reddish glow leaked out.

'Oh no, oh no,' he thought, 'what have you done. . .'

"Dumbledore?" asked Moody.

Albus Dumbledore looked up at his long-time friend, and for a moment, the man who seemingly had answers to every question was speechless.

"Dumbledore?" Moody called again.

". . . Yes, Alastor?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything is alright. I was just wondering about his identity," the best way to lie was to tell the truth.

"Oh? Do you think it is an Unspeakable?"

"No. . . I don't think it is an Unspeakable. But he is talented."

Moody grunted in agreement, "He stabbed the Dark Lord in his eye, so I will give it to the lad."

". . . Yes," Dumbledore threw out a distracted reply.

After a moment, he slid the puck back to the table's center and pocketed the small vial of chalk.

"Did you find something of interest, Dumbledore?" asked Croaker curiously. "Maybe something that could lead us to the real Invisible Vigilante."

Dumbledore put on a regretful smile and shook his head, "Nothing I can find right now."

After that, Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, and for the rest of the meeting, he nodded and responded with half-baked answers. It had been a while since he had found something that had greatly occupied his mind.

The last time he had felt this was when he had found Harry Potter was a Horcrux.

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Invisible Vigilante - Quinn West - That took a couple of takes to record. . . .

Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster - Like a thunderbolt.

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The link is in the synopsis!