Interlude [Damian]

[grey xavier slater]

▲

October 23, 2029

Grey was not an investigative journalist. Unless one considered drudging up centuries old Quidditch statistics as detective work, in which case he was the best of the best. He felt like he could proudly proclaim at least that about his work at this point in his career. But to be sent to Hogsmeade to ask questions and do a little digging the day after the supposed werewolf attack? He hadn't done ground work like this outside of Quidditch in years now. Surely the Prophet had better journalists, more well-known ones that already had front facing jobs, than him to send out to the wizarding town to ask the 'hard questions'. Grey had long since come to the conclusion that everyone in the magical community was so trauma riddled by now, that getting an honest answer without extra baggage was nigh impossible. That was why he liked his basement office in the archives at the Prophet. No one but him and Steven the spider.

To make matters worse, today was his birthday. While he hadn't spent it in any meaningful way in years, thanks in part to his parents silently disowning him, it still felt like a kick to be forced to do work he didn't like nor did often. Plus, the residents of Hogsmeade really didn't want to talk to him at all. He was an intrusive force, just like all the rest, whenever some insane thing occurred here. What should have been a sleepy town only bustling with activity once per month during trips from students, was now a proper town. His gauge in the situation, and those like it over the past several years, was that the residents were exhausted by it. All they wanted was peace and quiet, with the occasional influx of children screaming through their streets. With joy, of course, not because they were running from a dragon, or their burning castle, or whatever this large animal may have been.

Grey's first task of the day had been to hunt down an Auror that could give more details. He wanted someone like the American, Nottingham, who was known to be loose-lipped, or Claire. Because all he had to do with his sister was push a few buttons and she'd be screaming like a banshee and accidentally reveal more than she should. It had worked a few years ago, why wouldn't it now?

Unfortunately, his face was known. The second he even thought about approaching where the Aurors were investigating, several started walking in his direction and waved him off. Having a bunch of junior Aurors do the direct work of dissuading him was sort of annoying, especially because he expected the banshee herself to appear before him and start screaming in his face all the way down High Street. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't.

Accepting defeat (and the end of the work day), Grey found himself in the Three Broomsticks. If his editor wanted information, listening in on the locals was the best way to get it. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a drink and did what he did best: sat quietly and waited for a nugget of information to grace his ears.

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF ● 536

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

Damian was an investigative journalist. It meant that he had the most thrilling jobs, the opportunity to travel, and the biggest hurdles to manage. He’d had a busy few months, trying to understand the Druid council decision making process, the rift quickly growing between the high council and the high druid, and the effect it was all having on legislation in Britain. It was not as glamorous as Damian would have liked - but it paid well. He missed being able to travel around whenever he liked, usually bothering Cas as he did so. The magical RV was immensely useful, so it was a win-win.

Based on the current climate, Damian could have guessed that something big was bound to happen. He just hadn’t really expected this – werewolf attacks at a festival in Hogsmeade. Something about it was peculiar, and it was up to Damian to learn more. Cade had also sent out his colleague Grey Slater, who ordinarily reported on the Quidditch columns. But it was all hands on deck for this story, so Grey had been redistributed. They’d split up the work, with Grey hunting down an auror to try to get an interview and Damian speaking to some of the townsfolk to get their view of the situation. Everything summed up to the following: werewolves were dangerous. The overwhelming sentiment was no longer jolly, but suspicious.

Disheartened but not defeated, Damian retired to the Three Broomsticks to see how successful Grey had been in his endeavours, hoping he’d learned something more substantial than Damian had. He spotted Grey at once, sitting silently at a table, his gaze slightly unfocused as he tried to hone in on a nugget of information that could be useful in their investigation. His facial expression was very familiar to Damian - it was one he often sported. He ordered a drink at the bar, then joined Grey at his vigil. He nodded in greeting, and they remained silent for several minutes as they tried to pick up anything of use. After some time, and nothing interesting to report, Damian spoke. ”Did you manage anything?” asked Damian in a low voice.

grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

▲

It seemed he wasn’t the only one from the Daily Prophet that was thinking the same thing. At least that was what Grey assumed as he was joined by Damian in silence. To anyone else at the paper (and maybe to his colleague here who actually had the investigative journalism gig), Grey probably looked like he had given up. Which was a fair assumption. He was the Quidditch stat guru, or nerd, or whatever it was they called him these days. He didn’t quite know, since he rarely spoke to anyone aside from his editor. Locking himself away in the basement and going through and digitizing centuries of Quidditch records and statistics had done quite the number on him. Being out on assignment was really the only time he saw the daylight anymore, aside from going to and from work.

After several minutes of mutually agreed upon silence – in which said agreement was confirmed from both of them nodding to one another – Damian finally asked if he had gotten anything yet. Grey paused with his butterbeer glass almost touching his lips. Was it that bad that not even Karkaroff could get anything out of the Aurors? Thankfully, Grey knew where he was lacking in that department. Getting answers from Quidditch players was far easier than tight-lipped magic cops.

”Nothing we don’t already know,” Grey said shaking his head. ”They completely iced me out. My sister has apparently said a few things about me to her colleagues.” Or they were pissed that ‘one of their own’ would abandon his training and become a journalist. Grey had never seen himself as an Auror to begin with though. Plus, it had been five years since all of that. Being wary of a sports writer was the silliest thing in the world. It only succeeded in making him laugh whenever he thought about it too hard.

”I think all that leaves are the locals, right?” he asked as he finished taking that sip of his butterbeer finally. He didn’t know who was assigned to the victims and witnesses, but if they wanted a hard-hitting, no-nonsense person, it was probably going to be Jimmie. She was solid at being annoying in all the right ways.

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF ● 370

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0