Sara White was worried.
She sat on a chair in front of the desk in Auror Department Director's office. Crossing her legs, she opened a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of her and perused an article on the front page. Her brow grew more furrowed with each word she read.
When she finished, she shut the newspaper and grumbled, "Idiots."
A glance at her wristwatch showed it was a few minutes after nine in the morning. The Director was late. His meeting with the Minister was running long. The summons she had received—a note from the Department secretary—had been unexpected. The official tone worried her.
She had spent the night working with her team to close the latest case. Then she had tried in vain to sleep a few hours on the uncomfortable couch in her office, only to be awakened by Shira's persistent knock. When she had opened the door, she had found the Department's secretary thrusting a note at her.
In my office. 9 am. Important.
Shira's shrill voice had pierced the fog in her half-asleep brain to tell her the Director was with the Minister and might be late.
So, at ten past nine, Sara sat in the Director's office wondering what was so important. Or rather, what of the many things that were happening was the most important.
It was a tougher time than Sara had ever seen before. Many strange things were happening. Unexplained disappearances, leaks, unusual movements. Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were running around telling everyone that Voldemort was back. Ten of the most dangerous Death Eaters had just escaped from Azkaban, and nobody had the slightest idea of their whereabouts.
Sara had never been among those who hung off Dumbledore's words, but declaring him delusional was too much. On the other hand, believing Voldemort was back was a big deal, bigger than most people could tolerate. And yet the more things went wrong, the more she was convinced there must be some truth in it, and that made everything much scarier.
Minister Fudge was trying to deny the facts, or maybe he truly believed Dumbledore had gone mad. Anyway, the far-fetched explanations he kept giving to the newspapers didn't make sense. The only one who seemed to believe them was the Minister's assistant.
The article Sara had just finished reading was a blatant example.
The Director burst into his office, putting an end to Sara's thoughts. She rose to greet him.
"Good morning."
"Ah, you are here."
"Yes, Shira told me you wanted to see me."
The Director walked back and forth a couple of times behind his desk. He took a stack of papers, made a gesture as if he wanted to tidy them up, then put them down again. It was unusual to see him so agitated.
"Chief, what's going on?" Sara was still standing.
The Director stopped in his tracks and sat on his chair. He motioned for Sara to do the same, looked at her for a moment, hesitated, and then started talking.
"I just received a good telling-off from the Minister. Do you imagine why?"
"I can venture a few guesses."
"Those damn escaped Death Eaters are the reason. Fudge says we're not doing enough, that we stay here scratching our chins all day while they run away unfettered, and that we can't give such an impression of the Ministry."
"It's the same old story. But you know my team and I did all we could. The Death Eaters didn't leave a trail. Once outside Azkaban's boundaries, they disapparated, and we have no way to know where they went."
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Black & White - A Harry Potter Fan Fiction
FanfictionSirius Black broke out of Azkaban just to find himself in another prison, his old family home at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore treats him like a child, the Order refuses to give him missions to accomplish, and Severus Snape's smirk is driving him mad...