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Chapter 45

Monday, July 16, 2012

Charlie and I started our week with a rather tense "discussion". He wasn't at all too happy about the fact that I'd volunteered to help Harry and the aurors with their investigation into the murders. Harry had admitted that they'd never encountered a murder like it, Crimes in the wizarding world weren't usually against muggles, and they were not random seeming as this one was. In fact, Harry had admitted to me that they hadn't seen any crime this brutal since the war. "Every time you offer to help Harry and his lot, you're in danger," Charlie commented, rather tersely, as we sipped our morning coffee and shared a scone over the kitchen counter, after we'd gotten dressed and fed the animals.

"I'll be fine," I assured him, "They just need my help with the investigation. This one has them stumped. They're not used to crimes like this. Harry told me they found three more bodies in Knockturn Alley yesterday, another muggle family, and this time with a girl. Harry is afraid that the killer might strike again. "

"And he wants you in the thick of it?!"

"Calm down, I'll be fine."

Charlie pulled me into a bear hug. "I can't lose you," he whispered into my hair.

"Every time you go to the reserve I worry about losing you, too." I pulled away, and looked into his face, "but, I know that you're experienced, and you know how to handle those scaly beasts. And, I trust you not to do anything too stupid. I'm not reckless. I know how to handle myself."

"I still don't like it," he said with a slight scowl, "but, I trust you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do we know who these poor people were?" I asked Harry as, I perused evidence photos of the victims. Harry, Ron and I were sitting at the table in Harry's office going over the evidence at hand. The gruesome pictures were spread out over the table.

"This was, Allan Tuttle," Harry stated, pointing to the male first, "And his wife, Caroline P. Tuttle, and their eleven year old daughter, Mariah. She was supposed to start Hogwarts in September."

"Another, muggleborn?" I asked. "I'm guessing it was the same killer as the Witheralls, the mutilation is similar, and I see the beginnings of a pattern with the victims, do we know anything else about them?"

Ron pulled out a sheet of parchment from his file," they were also from Brighton. Allan Tuttle was a barrister, his wife a physician's assistant. Other than having a child who's a witch, there's nothing unusual about them. We've notified Scotland Yard, they're trying to find next of kin"

"Have you contacted Hogwarts, yet?" I asked them. "The killer or killers are obviously targeting muggleborns, I think we need to know how many families we may need to protect?"

"I'd thought of that," Harry said, "we're waiting for a list from Mcgonagall, she said she'd have a list for us as soon as she could."

"Good, in the mean time, I think that you should increase auror presence in Diagon Alley, especially around the places where you're more likely to find students. Have you been able to find any witnesses at all?"

Ron pulled out another sheet of parchment, " the last place the Witheralls were seen at was Olivander's. " he returned to the first sheet, "The Tuttles were last seen coming out of…" he paused for a second, as if not wanting to say it, "Olivander's."

"Has anyone questioned Mr. Olivander?" I asked. "He may have noticed something. Since these people were most likely abducted before they were murdered, it makes sense that Olivander's was the last place they were seen, it's at the end of the alley."

"Olivander's been quite cooperative," Harry said. "Unfortunately, he's been so busy lately, he's barely had time to look out the window, much less watch for anyone, but he said, he'd try to keep an eye out."

"If he'll agree to it, maybe we should have someone inside the shop," Ron suggested.

Harry nodded, "I'll talk to him about it."

"Have you guys gotten any closer to finding an actual crime scene?" I asked.

Harry just shook his head, "no," he said ruefully; we've had no clue as to where the actual murders took place. "There are so few clues; we need some sort of break in the case. "

"I'd like to help questions witnesses," I said, "I've had experience with this sort of thing."

Harry looked rather sheepish, "actually Glinda," he paused, as if he was trying to sound diplomatic, "we've been ordered to not allow you to act in any capacity beyond that of advisor," because of the nature of this case, the higher ups don't want anyone not officially part of MLE to be involved with the case, Ron and I weren't even supposed to show you the file, but we wanted your input."

"Seriously?!" I asked, tersely. "That's asinine. "

"I agree, but the Muggle Relations office doesn't want any outsiders involved. We assured them that you would never do anything to compromise the investigation, but they won't hear of it, and as much as I'd like to officially put you on the payroll, we can't."

"Because?"

"You're not a British citizen."

"What?"

"I know, it's kind of stupid. "

"Kind of?"

"Very well, it's really stupid, but there's no way around it." Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair, "actually, we thought about trying to work out something with BIMS, but since you're retired, they won't go for it?" He handed me a letter from BIMS.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

As per your request of 9 July, 2012; we must respectfully decline your request to allow Glinda L. Goode, BIMS, ret., to engage in field work for the British Ministry of Magic's Office of Magical Law Enforcement. Ms. Goode is beyond the age restriction for field work in our bureau, and as a retired operative, she is barred from any active investigative work…. Etc, and so on."

"That is absolute, bull shit!"

"I agree, but we can't get around it. I'm sorry, I spoke to someone from International Magical Cooperation, and they said we can't get around it."

"Bureaucratic jack asses!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

After sharing lunch with Harry, Ron and Charlie, I ended up spending the rest of my day with Hannah and Neville at the Leaky Cauldron. They allowed me to work out some of my frustration on batches of cookie dough. By then end of the night Hannah had enough Tollhouse cookies to last them three days, and I'd decided that it might be a good time for me to start enjoying my summer vacation.

"You're going to be bored in a week," Neville said, as I explained my plan of spending the rest of my summer bumming around London.