Chapter 1: Overtime

The flame from the candle barely lit up the cubicle, casting only a small pool of light on to the desk on which it sat. Anything out of the candle's glow was bathed in darkness, colour fading into grey, then finally melting away into pure black shadow. The room was silent, except for the soft, steady sound of breathing and the scratching of a quill against parchment. Amelia Bones sat at the desk, finishing off a letter. Her eyes, the colour of stone, followed the movement of her hand as she transferred her graceful, sloping letters on to the page. Leaning back in her chair, she ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair and glanced at the clock. Though she could barely see the hands moving, she knew it was past midnight. Where does all the time go, Amelia thought as she turned back to her work. She wanted to leave, but incident reports didn't write themselves.

House appeared fine from the outside she wrote. It was only upon entering that Aurors noticed significant damage. Hallway floor was covered in broken glass and plaster, which had clearly come from the wall and pictures hanging on the wall. In the first room, a bedroom, Aurors discovered two bodies, a man and a woman. Neither bodies showed obvious damage, so death is thought to have come from the Avada Kedavra curse. The bodies were later identified as Hamish and Emily Lancaster, Muggle owners of the property. The lounge area also sustained heavy damage, with wreckage covering most of the floor. The body of a young girl was found by the backdoor. It appeared as if she had been trying to escape, before her throat was cut (again, a wand is thought to have been used). Death, in this instance, is thought to be a result of blood loss. The girl was later identified as Roberta Lancaster, eight year-old daughter of the aforementioned house owners. There were no survivors found on the property. After extensive analysis, the Auror office is attributing these killings to the organization known as.Amelia refreshed the ink on her quill. The Death Eaters.

Picking up the parchment, Amelia checked over the words that she had written; it didn't make for particularly happy reading. A Muggle family had been murdered by the Death Eaters, just some of the many victims of the barbaric movement. Amelia's Auror unit had been the ones who found them, going out the house after the alarm had been raised by operatives placed in the Muggle police force. It hadn't been pleasant in reality and experiencing it again in word form was no better. Amelia had found the little girl. A tiny creature, even for her age, she was curled up in a ball, her back against the door. She had died slowly, in pain, in a pool of her own blood. It was sickening and Amelia couldn't comprehend what kind of mindset you'd have to be in to do that. The people they were dealing with weren't just dangerous, they were insane. The kind of violence they were capable of was something Amelia had never expected when she applied to be an Auror. Then again, the rise of Lord Voldemort was something no one had seen coming. He had come from nowhere, one day an unknown, the next the most feared man in all of Britain. Now he waged war against those who didn't share his ideals. Thousands had died already at the hands of those who served him.

Amelia pushed her chair away from the desk, submerging herself in darkness. Feeling in her pocket, she found her cigarette packet and lighter. Pulling one out, she lit a cigarette, the tip glowing eerily in the blackness. Putting it to her lips, she inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke out. Amelia had started smoking not long after her first year with the Auror office. As not much more than a child, she had found it the only way to cope. Recently she had managed to cut back on the amount of toxins she breathed into her body, but quitting completely was something she hadn't yet found the motivation for. Besides, given the current situation, dark wizards were going kill her before lung cancer did.

"If Crouch catches you doing that in here, he'll have you on desk duty until you retire."

A man walked into the cubicle, leaning against the desk. Though colourless in the dusky shadow, his hair was golden-red and his eyes were blue and sparkly. He wore a smile that was teasing, even a little suggestive, one side curving up in a smirk. Fabian Prewett was Amelia's partner in the Auror office. They had started at around the same time, working their way up together until they were fully qualified and mostly respected.

"Crouch can't afford to put me on desk duty." Amelia said cooly. "And who's going to tell him? Because it won't be me, Fabian."

"And it won't be me, Bones." Fabian replied with a grin. "I'm just looking out for your best interests."

He looked down at the desk and began to flick through the documents that sat there.

"You still doing incident reports?" he asked.

"No." Amelia said. "I've stayed past my paid hours because I like the lively atmosphere."

"It's a party alright." Fabian nodded in sarcastic agreement. "I've just finished writing mine."

He pulled out a piece of parchment that had been crumpled into his pocket and flattened it out. Taking an end in each hand, he held it up for his partner to see. Amelia squinted and leaned forward.

"I can't even read that! Did you write it in the dark?" she exclaimed. "They seriously need to put penmanship in the Auror exam."

"It's not exactly artwork, I agree." Fabian said, scrutinizing it for himself. "But it's okay. I'll just leave it on my desk and Dolores can write it out tomorrow."

"You and Frank completely misuse that girl." Amelia sighed, though not without a little smile. "You're lucky she's so nice."

"She's our secretary!" Fabian said. "She's just doing what she feels she needs to do."

"Oh, and the fact that she's your brother's fiancee has nothing to do with it?" Amelia asked, more than a hint of cynicism in her voice.

"Well, Little Dolores does like to keep in with the family." Fabian admitted. "Poor thing's terrified our parents are not going to like her."

"They'll be pleasantly surprised, I should think." Amelia said, rolling over to desk and conjuring an ashtray. "After the trash you like to bring home."

"My parents haven't seen half of my dirty laundry." Fabian winked. "If a girl gets to meet them then she has been deemed fit."

"Or less trashy than usual?" Amelia suggested.

"Anyway," Fabian ignored her, "Gideon was always the sensible one. They'll be expecting a quiet, sensible, homely girl."

"In short, someone like Dolores?" Amelia said. "I always thought it was odd when they got engaged, but the more I think about it, the more it makes perfect sense."

"I still think it's a bit odd." Fabian muttered. "I mean, my brother and your best friend."

"Yeah, well," Amelia said, stubbing out her cigarette, "there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, then are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Thank you, William Shakespeare." Fabian said mockingly. "You've missed your vocation, Bones. Should've gone into acting."

"It didn't pay enough." Amelia replied, picking up her quill and continuing to write.

"Yes, but are you really getting paid enough now?" Fabian asked, pushing himself up to sit on the desk. "How many times this week have we been late in the office? And we're not even on night duty."

"That's the job." Amelia said bluntly, not taking her eyes off the page.

The scratching of the quill nib once again filled the space. The biting smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, the haze visible in the light. Fabian picked up an unused piece of parchment and began to fold it, his hands moving quickly. Soon he had created a delicate little swan. He placed it down and it sat serenely amongst the quills, files and inkwells.

"You writing up the Lancaster case?" he asked.

Amelia nodded, but said nothing. Fabian looked up at a ceiling he couldn't see.

"I don't know." he sighed. "I guess that every time something like this happens, I feel as though I've let everybody down. Like I've failed to do what I'm here for."

Amelia felt exactly the same way. What good was the Auror office, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, any of it, if they couldn't save people. There were days when Amelia would question her entire existence, wondering if it was worth it. But then she remembered all the evil that was out there. Even if she couldn't stop it, someone had to try.

"We." Amelia stated softly. "We failed. We're a team, remember?"

Fabian smiled. It was a bitter smile, but more sincere than his signature grin.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bones." he said quietly, before standing up and walking out of the cubicle.

Amelia listened to his footsteps as they grew fainter and fainter, until she could no longer hear them. Getting out of her chair, she felt her way to the coat stand where she had hung her satchel. Going back to the desk, she put her wand and a file thick with documents into the bag, then slung it over her shoulder. The last thing she did was blow out the candle, pulling the plug on visibility and cloaking everything in black. It reflected the world, she thought somberly, a world where it was getting harder and harder to see. But, she reminded herself as she walked to the lift, when the world could get no darker, that would be the time when the sun would rise.