Chapter 292: Caught
On the outskirts of Oslo in Norway, beneath an abandoned Muggle villa where no non‑magical eye could ever see, there stood a magnificent underground structure.
The building resembled a colossal longship anchored in a cavern deep below the earth. High overhead, the cave roof glittered with orb‑shaped lights like stars, each casting a brilliant glow that bathed the entire "ship" in radiance.
In the very centre of the longship, dozens of fireplaces stood in orderly rows. Most of them were roaring with eerie green flames. Silhouettes stepped out of the fire one after another. Some made their way on foot toward a registration desk, while others simply twisted on the spot and vanished.
This enormous longship was the Norwegian Ministry of Magic.
Norway was not exactly famous as a wizarding tourist destination, but this was the third day after Christmas. In the height of the holiday season, plenty of people with nothing better to do had come by just to have a look.
Bjorn turned his wand over in his fingers, sitting at his inspection station, and covered his mouth as he yawned.
Being a Fireplace Attendant was a dull job. Anyone travelling into the Ministry by Floo had already been cleared and registered, solidly "law‑abiding citizens" on parchment at least. Months could go by without the slightest hint of trouble.
On duty, though, he was not allowed to read or do anything else to pass the time. All he could do was stare at row upon row of green‑lit fireplaces from the moment he started his shift until the moment he was relieved.
If he had a choice, he would not have picked this post. Unfortunately, the other roles in the Floo Network Authority paid less and carried a wide variety of unpleasant, occasionally dangerous duties.
By comparison, Fireplace Attendant was decidedly easier.
Just mind‑numbingly boring.
He sighed and glanced idly toward a dim, inconspicuous corner at the edge of the hall.
Nine figures in pitch‑black cloaks and hoods stood there in silence. The tallest was nearly two metres, built like a Quidditch Keeper; the shortest barely one and a half, more like a child who had not finished growing.
A group dressed that oddly and acting that suspiciously had naturally caught his eye the moment they stepped out of the Floo.
He had not gone over to question them. He had simply taken note of their appearance and quietly pressed the non‑emergency alert button beneath his desk.
In a few minutes, some Aurors would show up, check their identities, and make sure everything was safe.
Why should he deal with it himself? He was just a Fireplace Attendant, not security. Why should he be the one to find out whether a particular traveller was dangerous?
If they were harmless, fine. But if they were not, then what?
He was not risking his neck for a few hundred Galleons a month. Pushing the button to notify the Aurors was already above and beyond. The rest had nothing to do with him.
Better to think about what to have for dinner. Vegetable herring soup, perhaps?
In the corner of the hall, beneath one of the black hoods, a red‑haired young man was looking uncharacteristically wistful.
"Never thought I would see the day I'd be reduced to doing something this thankless," Charlie Weasley muttered.
Back at school, he had always been the reckless one. Under Evans's lead, if Evans had suggested storming the Ministry of Magic itself—never mind a jailbreak at the Sea of Wraiths—he would have charged in without a second thought.
Yet now, only a few years after graduating, he had sunk to the point where he not only refused to help his younger brother and future sister‑in‑law break someone out of prison, but he had actually joined the party trying to stop them.
The decline of wizarding society. Truly disgraceful.
Then again, he was hardly being a model son himself, sneaking out of the Burrow on the third day of Christmas with three younger brothers in tow and asking Bill, before he left, to help keep their parents calm.
He was fairly sure that when he came back, there would be at least one brutal shouting match and a long period during which everyone in the house would be thoroughly disgusted with him.
And that was assuming Bill had not worked out exactly what they were planning. If Bill had guessed their aim and told Mum and Dad they meant to raid the Sea of Wraiths, Charlie might well become the first Weasley in history to be punished under the full letter of the family code.
If their father really still kept that legendary family rulebook, anyway.
Still, since he was now officially part of the "stop them" faction, Charlie felt this plan had room for improvement.
"Are you sure you lot can tail them without being noticed? As far as I know, Penelope Clearwater had already passed several Auror assessments by the time I graduated, self‑taught, including counter‑surveillance."
He turned to look at Wood and the two eager twins beside him, every line of his face broadcasting his lack of confidence.
"Honestly, I do not believe it either," came a cool girl's voice from a hood a little further off. "If you want my opinion, we should just tie them up as quickly as possible and beat that suicidal idea out of them."
She had come on this trip expecting a holiday. If they wasted most of her break shadowing Percy and Penelope, what was she supposed to do about the missing chunk of vacation?
And, as Charlie had said, the odds of successfully tailing Penelope were not high. Even following Percy without being spotted would be hard work.
"Tracking them shouldn't be that difficult," said a hesitant, younger voice from one of the shorter figures.
"Professor Kahn said he'd be going somewhere rather dangerous over Christmas and wouldn't have time to look after Alice and Nana, so I borrowed them both."
Hermione pulled a small, translucent box from inside her cloak. Curled in one corner, a shrunken Niffler lay flat on its back, snoring, in a sleeping position that could only be described as undignified. A blue‑and‑white bird roughly the size of a large owl was perched nearby, preening its feathers. When light spilled in from outside the box, it hunched shyly closer to Nana.
"With Nana, we can follow them from a long way off. They won't notice a thing."
The Weasley twins took one look at the box, and identical looks of outrage sprang to their faces.
"If we'd known that, we would have gone and borrowed Little Cloak!"
"Exactly. With it, we could just grab Percy and Penelope at top speed and tie them up. No need to worry about anything else."
Ignoring their grumbling, Charlie greeted the two old friends in the box, then pinched his chin thoughtfully.
"In that case, we might be able to work with—"
He broke off as a rough voice barked from right beside them.
"You lot. What do you think you're doing?"
All of them jumped, turning in alarm.
At some point, several burly wizards in Auror uniforms had surrounded their corner of the hall and were now tightening the circle, faces set and unfriendly.
"Auror Office inspection," one of them snapped. "Papers out. State your purpose. Name, identity, current address."