In the darkness of the night, a cloaked figure rushed through concrete streets followed by a shadow. The cloaked man rushes around the bend in the street the footsteps of the shadow pick up and turn the street corner. The shadow grows still peering down the gloomy street. The street appears empty the shadow has lost the quarry. The shadow curses under his breath and rushes down the empty street seeking traces of the quarry.
Wisps of moonlight peek through the thick cloud cover and provide a dim light. The shadow vanishes turning down another street. The moonbeams fade away leaving the street under the cover of darkness again. The cloaked man reappears from the shadows removing a Disillusionment Charm.
The cloaked man's eyes alertly peered through the darkness straining his ears to hear any sound of his pursuer returning. The cloaked man does not hesitate and returns the way he came. Footsteps echo down the street as the cloaked man runs to find cover, while a second pair of fainter footsteps try to narrow the gap.
The cloaked man finds cover first in a closed-off alley and vanishes with a small audible pop. The footsteps increase in pace as the pursuer rushes down the street passing past the empty alley. The shadow curses unable to hear or see his quarry. Knowing he has lost his quarry; he also vanishes with a small pop.
In the outskirts of the city, in a rather shabby part of town, the shadow reappears. Slipping between alleyways, the shadow passes through unnoticed and undisturbed. With practiced ease, he stretches his hand causing the wand wrist holster to release his wand. His wand smoothly drops down into his open hand.
Catching his wand in hand, the shadow covers his tracks one last time, before arriving at a small flat. Down the steps, to the lower flat, he raises the tip of his wand. The tip of the wand glows as he touches the wand to the door. He traces a rune on the door, before whispering, "Trentwood."
The front door opened with a soft click, and the shadow rushed inside before the door slammed shut behind him. The shadow holds still as four pairs of wands are trained upon him. The cloaked man slowly puts his wand away and pulls back the cowl of his hood back to reveal his handsome face. "It's me!" The handsome redheaded man exclaimed.
A very similar-looking redheaded man with a large nose hides a grin. "Prove it?" Fabian Prewett asked his brother, (probably unless they are polyjuiced).
"Fabian, I need a question," Gideon Prewett rolled his eyes at his brother.
Fabian cheekily grinned back while a round-faced man with dusty colored hair and lukewarm blue eyes sighs in exasperation and lowers his wand. "You do realize that if Gideon is under the Imperious curse, a question means absolutely nothing right?" Percius Clements said in frustration.
The older woman with short, cropped salt-peppered hair also lowers her wand. Sara Vinovich's yellow owl-like eyes roll in vexation. The motion causes her face to tighten causing the running scar down the full length of her face to elongate.
"Fabian hurry up and ask the d*m question!" Sara Vinovich briskly said. "Unlike some, some of us have been on a two-day duty roster and are short on sleep and everything else!"
"Eh, have someone waiting for you, Vinovich?" Gideon teased with a roguish twinkle in his eye.
A deadly gleam appears in Sara Vinovich's yellow owl-like eyes. She seemed to be solemnly considering the ramifications of beating the living tartar out of Auror Gideon Prewett. In the worst-case scenario, she would be put on desk duty. She could live with that.
Sensing that patience of Vinovich is about to snap, a very tired-looking dark-haired man makes a pacifying gesture. "Fabian, please just ask the question," Alphard Black tiredly requested. Yet the dark eyeshadows and gaunt cheekbones made him seem that much more wane.
"Alright, I was just thinking of one," Fabian replied with a fiendish gleam in his eye. "Gideon, what happened in our fifth year that caused you to be slapped by a Hufflepuff?"
Gideon cursed his brother under his breath, before grudgingly with some embarrassment replying, "I may have accidentally brushed up against her chest. It was an accident, I swear!" He protested in vain as no one seemed to believe him.
Fabian chortles, while Sara Vinovich wickedly grinned, "Sure it was, Prewett."
Gideon curses under his breath vowing retribution upon his brother's head.
They all move to sit down in several dusty chairs to wait for the last member of their party. They sat down when Alphard is overcome by coughs for a moment. Alphard's voice is raspy as he asks, "Was there any trouble?"
"No, nothing has changed," Gideon wearily replied.
Before the conversation can further progress, the sound of footsteps descending down to the door is heard. They all rise and point their wands at the door as the door swings open. The intruder stands in the doorway and enters closing the door shut.
A loud, Scottish bur can be heard, "It's me." Removing his hood, the rugged features of Alastor Moody can quickly be seen in the dim firelight. "I suppose I need to prove myself, aye?" Alastor grunted.
"No, I am fully confident it is you, Moody," Sara assertively declared.
"Eh?" Alastor Moody arched his brow.
"Only you would wear those ridiculous trench boots," Sara huffed with a tiny smile on her face.
"I could still be under the Imperious Curse!" Moody vehemently protested.
"Impossible! You are more likely to be polyjuiced!" Sara countered.
Moody sputters and huffs as Percius shrugs in a resigned fashion. "We are trained, Aurors, Moody, give us at least some credit."
Muttering under his breath about insubordination, Moody clears his throat and removes a small rolled-up parchment, and carefully places it on the floor. Pointing his wand at the shrunken map, he says, "Engorgio!" The map quickly grows and returns to its regular size. The map once filled with countless red spots now only shows the odd red mark or two.
Glancing up from the map, Moody asks, "And how did it go tonight, Prewett? Same as before?"
Shaking his head regretfully, Gideon replies, "The Death Eaters aren't taking any chances. At the single whiff of any suspicion, they flee and hide."
"No, it's more than that," Percius pensively observed. "It's as though they have been ordered to lay low."
"Wouldn't that mean they are planning something big?" Fabian naturally concluded.
"Not necessarily," Percius shook his head. "Rather, I think that we dwelt them too much of a harsh blow last December, and now, they are waiting to see the snake's tail."
"Yes, but we've kept low as well," Sara interrupted with a frown. "It is no surprise that the Death Eater's movements have lessened with each passing day, but notwithstanding there still is the odd muggle attack or two. However, all serious attacks have ceased. And those random attacks that occur serve more as a reminder of their existence than a purpose."
"Then are the Death Eaters waiting for us to make the first mistake?" Fabian drily pointed out, what was everyone's mind. "Or rather, show our tail?"
"Yes, but they are not looking at us but rather another," Alphard solemnly muttered after a moment. His response caused everyone to turn their heads toward him. Alphard glances up and wryly says, "I am a Black by birth, and by nature, I tend to hear things."
"Go on," Alastor said with evident interest in his eyes.
"After the Malfoy Ball, I was abruptly contacted by my brother-in-law, Orion Black. With a rather simple request and warning if you will; that is to keep my eyes and ears close to the ground, but more importantly to dissociate myself from the likes of Tom Marvolo Riddle and his supporters. The revelation of Riddle's half-blood identity is a calculated risk by Abraxas Malfoy to create the birth of a new faction centered around the Malfoy family."
Alphard paused as if carefully word his next statement. "There are many families that remain loyal supporters of Riddle. Only a few families like Black and Malfoy have fully opted out, while the majority of families are taking a more passive, neutral approach. These families can be swayed to either side at any time."
Seeing the frowning faces at Alphard's words, Gideon furrows his brows. "This is what we wanted, is it not?" He sensed that he was missing something by the expressions of the others.
"If the purebloods are on the fence," Percius explained, "it is not because they are coming to their senses, but rather are uncertain which faction can provide them with the most benefits."
"As if that malicious whelp needed more power," Sara cursed under her breath having more than one negative run-in with Abraxas Malfoy.
"Abraxas Malfoy will be an obstacle to Riddle and even us since Abraxas wields great political power and connections in the social sphere," Percius rationalized. "Though the most concerning aspect is Abraxas change his mind-."
The silence grows heavy at the implications should Abraxas Malfoy side with Riddle, then there could only be war. A war where they would be outnumbered from the start.
It is good old backstabbing politics...