Four AM [open]

[Deleted]

Four a.m. She still hadn't left the office since eight this morning. She wanted everything to be perfect for the press conference tomorrow. Her and DW were going to face the press together, as the often did. They used to be pretty inseparable, have the same opinions and had a lfow like a well oiled machine. Now, he was cold and confusing. Almost as if he weren't himself anymore. This wasn't okay with Vic, for she used to consider him as a mentor, someone she wanted to be like one day, something who she looked towards to make new goals for herself. But something was terribly wrong, and she didn't know what to do about it.

She sighed and leaned forward, rubbing her temples with her index fingers. She was getting tired, but she didn't want to give up just yet. She still had so much to work out before tomorrows conference in... four hours.

She groaned and forced herself to stand. She knew she had to get out here, but she always got stuck at work. More than once the thought about just moving in here, but that would be impractical. She shook her head and crossed the the window, looking into the hallway. Was anyone else out and about this late/early? She would feel sorry for them if they were. Granted, most people thought she was crazy for working so hard and late. She leaned her forehead against the glass and didn't even notice when she started dreaming.

[Deleted]

Myron.

Dwight.

Winterfield.

Pureblood. Slytherin. A bull in a political china shop. He liked that. The man was completely disdainful of the new Minister, and had made no secret of his desire to replace the man and do things right. But the killings increased, and suddenly the Implacable Winterfield became placable, turning to agreement with Burt Reynolds, the Headmaster at Hogwarts. And Reynolds was a man with secrets to spare, oh yes. What those secrets were, he couldn’t fathom, but he knew they were there. So it all stank of the same politics that Mr. Winterfield disdained so much a few short weeks ago. There had to be a reason for this, something to cause this change. And all Alexander needed to do was figure out who to kill to fix it. If it was on Winterfield, or on Reynolds, or even on both? The easiest and only permanent solution was to get rid of them.

So he had slipped into the Ministry in the wee hours of the morning, the visitor’s badge proclaiming Reconnaissance Mission as his reason for visiting, hooded white robes and a Guy Fawkes mask with a Sticking Charm protecting his identity. He knew the layout of the Ministry building—finding out the worker’s entrance had been child’s play, and then all he had needed to do was explore the building under the guise of considering looking for work in the Ministry. His NEWTs and skills were more than adequate to get him into the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad or the Department of Mysteries.

The offices he wished to go through were located right off of the Minister’s offices. These were generally well-protected—the elevators didn’t let just anybody up on the Minister’s floor, and security had increased since Shacklebolt’s assassination. But they were woefully unprepared to deal with Muggle trespassing techniques. Alex forced open the doors to the elevator shaft and used Levitation and Sticking Charms to attach a rope to the top of the shaft. He then simply climbed up and forced open the elevator doors, slipping into the suite of offices that housed the most powerful political figure in the country, along with his full entourage. Quietly, he went door to door. Nobody in their right mind would be up right now, but he was proof that some people weren’t in their right mind. And clearly, he was right to be suspicious—one of the offices had a young blonde woman dozing against the glass. Well, an interrogation might be faster than rifling through papers for three hours. Alex quietly slid up to the girl, looking her over—ah, there. He carefully pulled her wand from her pocket and stepped away before casting Ennervate at the woman’s back.

“Wake up.”

[Deleted]

When the spell hit Victoires back she was suddenly awake and full of energy. She whipped around to see a man standing there. She reached back to grab her wand, but it was no longer in her pocket. The man standing before her hand it with him, and Victoire felt her face getting warm with anger. "Can I help you with something?" she tried to sound calm and demanding. There was no way she was letting some random guy sneak in here and take important documents from her desk. She silently cursed herself for letting herself be left all alone in the office tonight. She had even sent a few of the security people from her area home early, though there still should have been some around.

She slowly pulled away from the window, starting to side step toward the door. If she could get into the hallway she could probably make a run for it and knock on whomevers doors happened to have lights on. It was a stupid plan, but she didn't have much choice. She had gone over scenarios like this in her head hundreds of times, but only a few of those scenarios didn't include her wand. She tilted her head as she analyzed the mask he was wearing, "are you supposed to be Guy Fawkes?" she smirked a little, "it isn't even November yet."

[Deleted]

First instinct—go for her wand. Second instinct—refuse to let him take control of the situation. Yep, she was a fighter. Not that this was surprising, considering who her family was. Alex had never met a Weasley who could be cowed. Unfortunately for her, defiance did not interest him. She could act as tough as she wanted, but the simple fact was, he had complete control of the situation, and no bravado was going to change that. “Are you supposed to be Guy Fawkes? It isn't even November yet.” He tilted his head a little, looking at her curiously. Most pureblood wizards didn’t know who Guy Fawkes was. That she did meant she studied Muggle history, at least up to a point. Well…Weasley, he supposed. In response, he lifted her wand, grasping it with one hand at either end, and bent. Not enough to do any damage to it, but enough to cause tension in the wood and make it visually clear that he was perfectly willing to snap it. Then he tossed the wand on the desk beside him and pointed his own at her once more.

“Victoire Apolline Weasley. Age twenty-two, alumnus of Slytherin House. Firstborn of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Junior assistant to the Minister for Magic, answerable to Myron Winterfield. One eighth Veela blood, enough to exude pheromones that attract men but not enough for you to consciously increase the intensity of the pheromone output. No active relationships since Edward Lupin left the country.” The perks of an eidetic memory—Victoire’s information had come up when he was looking into Winterfield, and now he was recalling the information he’d merely glanced over before. Not particularly useful to him, except to mess with Victoire. If he threw her off, it might be easier to get information from her. “You don’t interest me. Your boss does. Why did Myron Winterfield flip his stance on the Hogwarts Headmaster? Why did the man who hates politics suddenly bow to Reynolds?”

[Deleted]

As the man lifted her wand and bent it, Victoire almost cried out. But that was probably what he wanted. So instead she stood there, arms folded, and watched feigning disinterest as he tossed her wand aside onto her desk. She glanced at her wand momentarily, trying to figure out a way to make a break for it. She figured chatter and stalling were her best bet at this point. She looked back at the man as he started to list various details about her life. At the mention of her parents, her shoulders tense. At the mention of Myron, she clenched her fists. And at the mention of Teddy she took a step toward him.

”What the hell gives you the right to know that information?” she spat her words at him until she remembered that he was the one who was armed, not she. She took a deep breath and folded her arms again as he continued to explain is reason for coming into her office. Suddenly he was asking questions about Myron, and she tensed a little more. He had the same questions she did, but that didn’t mean she’d go around threatening people to question them. She shook her head, as an honest look of sadness and confusion swept across her face, ”I have no idea, to be honest,” she swallowed hard, ”I’ve been trying to find out that information myself.”

[Deleted]

“What the hell gives you the right to know that information?”

He tilted his head curiously, regarding her outrage. Looks like the Lupin boy was a sore spot for her. He remembered Lupin. He didn’t remember much about him—Lupin had been sorted into Gryffindor during Alex’s final year, so they didn’t interact much. But what interaction they did have, he remembered perfectly. “The same thing that’s given people the right to murder muggleborns and halfbloods. Nothing. I have no right at all.” But this was something that had to be done, and if not by him, then who? The Ministry would choke on blood and its own rules before the politicians would simply hand the reins over to Harry Potter and let him control things until this crisis was resolved. But Alex had all of the skills needed to find and cut the head off of the serpent, so if he could do it, he would.

“I have no idea, to be honest. I’ve been trying to find out that information myself.”

Honesty. He liked that. At least, it felt honest to Alex. Slytherins were known for their cunning, though. He did not lower his wand. Instead, Alex picked hers back up off the desk and pocketed it. “I’m here to find out why. I didn’t expect anyone to be here, but as long as you want to know the same thing, you might as well help me.” He flicked his wand at the door to Myron’s office, throwing it open, before aiming it at Victoire and twitching his head at the office, indicating she should walk in before him. “If Winterfield is being blackmailed or controlled somehow, we need to find out who's doing it. If this change of heart is genuine, though, or his previous political stance was the charade…then the man has a lot to answer for.” And answer he would. Alex would make certain of that.

“I’m going to go through his office. You can help me, or you can take another nap.”

[Deleted]

"Well, I'm glad you know that much, at least." She commented, sounding a little more sure of herself. She agreed with what he was saying, of course, no one had the right to murder muggleborns and halfbloods. She tilted her head at him and her brow furrowed, "you're right though... no one has the right to murder them. Or anybody for that matter," she commented firmly. Sure, she wanted the bad guys dead as much as the next person, but only some of them actually deserved death over prison. Plus, this guy was not an auror, Victoire knew that. She knew that she really shouldn't push this guy. He obviously wasn't afraid to do damage. No, it was best to hear him out.

When he suggested that she help him, part of her wanted to keep arguing. She didn't want to learn DWs secrets by sneaking around, but he pocketed her wand and she didn't really have a choice. Plus, her curiosity was started to get the best of her in this regard. "I'll help you, of course." She sighed, almost as if she was feeling defeated, not because of him but because of her own worry and concern for Myron. She turned toward Myrons office and stepped in first, trying not to think about the wand pointed at her back nor the he has a lot to answer for comment. She knew the best thing was to cooperate.

Once in his office, she turned to face the intruder, "what are we looking fro exactly?'