Blood Vengeance

Blood Vengeance

Auror Potter hated examining the scenes. The pure butchery turned even his stomach, and he had been through a war. The naked body was nailed spread-eagled to the floor, though one hand had ripped itself free from the large metal tent peg. Most likely, it was caused by spasms from the Cruciatus Curse. Harry could see splintered bone and torn muscle from where he stood. He shook the image from his mind and took notes.

Similar MO as the ten others he had found over the last six months: a mixture of magic and muggle torture methods, held captive for about eighteen hours of torture, craved up like a chicken and no witnesses. The building was an abandoned muggle store with repelling wards on it. He was dead for about a week. It was lucky that they found him so quickly, but Harry had found a recent Apparation jump site just outside the victim's mother's house. Hermione had figured out a way to trace jumps about a year ago.

Victim's name was Marius Jugson, former Death Eater. That was the clear link between all the victims, and why Head Auror Robards didn't assign a high priority to the case. No one seemed to care about the dregs of society being systematically murdered. From Old Nott to young Parkinson... no one cared. No one but Harry and he refused to take it easy. Jugson did his five years, as did the other dead former Death Eaters who had been given lighter sentences.

Harry didn't agree with some of the sentences, but only those who had committed heinous crimes were given life. However, he did agree that the country needed to heal. If they sent every suspected Death Eater to prison for life, Azkaban would be full, and half the wizarding population would be gone, leaving their families in misery. Jugson, he recalled, hadn't been charged with using any Unforgivable curses, and there wasn't enough evidence to prove any other crime other than association. His Dark Mark and participation in the Department of Mysteries' raid were enough to send him to Azkaban.

Jugson may have committed immoral and illegal acts, but he also could have been an ignorant follower of Voldemort, like Regulus had been. The killer didn't seem to care what the Death Eaters crimes, or lack thereof, were. Pansy didn't even have a mark. She just wanted one. The killer wanted blood, and Harry understood the lure of vengeance. He felt it himself when Sirius died. But he had restrained himself. This person wasn't and, quite strangely, had waited five years to get their revenge.

The murder, or rather, the execution of Jugson was a long, drawn-out process. Torture is generally used to elicit information or items from the victim, but nothing of intrinsic value was missing. The victim's clothing held several galleons, and no jewelry was taken. If Harry had to guess, the killer was looking for his next victim, but his superiors didn't support that theory. They just said that the Death Eater Killer, nicknamed DEK for short, was just sport-killing. Harry agreed with that, but the use of torture seemed too purposeful. DEK wanted something. Names, locations... something.

"Auror Potter, what have you got?" Proudfoot growled. He was the Senior Auror on the case.

Ron, Mike Corner and Terry Boot were also working under him. Harry hated Proudfoot. He was lazy and treated him like an up-jump child. Nevermind that Harry had finished first in Auror training, had two years under his belt, and a stellar arrest record. But he gave his report, for all the good it did.

"No jump points in the building other than the entry one. Wards kept out muggle eyewitnesses, but Ron and Terry are scrubbing the area for before they went up or his exit. Similar COD as the others: blood loss and heart failure. Trauma all over the body from Cruciatus and muggle instruments. A knife, some carpentry tools and a lighter were used, probably by hand. Stripped naked, but no sign of assault. Staked out with tent pegs and tortured for about seventeen hours. Lettering is the same," he rattled off.

DEK had craved "Death Eater" into his chest. All of his victims had it cut into their bodies, and it was done while they were still alive, too. There were usually lots of other cuts as well, to their faces, legs and arms. They were deep enough to make it bleed. Sometimes parts were cut off, too. DEK was merciless.

There was a large puddle of congealed, rotting blood under Jugson's body like the others, but Proudfoot just grunted, "It's proper to call Auror Weasley and Auror Boot by their surname and title."

Harry glared at him, as he had completely ignored his report. "I don't give a fuck about what's proper. We're at a crime scene of a vicious killer. Ron and Terry are my mates, and there isn't no one here but us, Walter."

"How dare you! I'll...."

"What? You'll do what? You aren't my supervisor. You're just the lead on the case, and you haven't done anything but breathe down my neck. Go and complain to Robards if you think it will make you feel better. I am working," Harry spat, glaring at the lazy wizard.

Proudfoot turned and Apparated away, against regulation. It was an active crime scene. Mike came out from a side room and took photos. He was geared more toward crime scene investigation than talking to muggles, and Harry had assigned his mates according to their strengths without the 'lead' present. They all knew he was really the lead in this case.

"Good job, Harry," Mike said, with some sarcasm. "I'm sure nothing bad will come of it."

"When they quit assigning me a babysitter, I'll be happy. Half the time, my lead takes credit for solving my cases. It wouldn't bug me, really, but why do I still have to be watched? All three of you get cases of your own."

"Do you want to hear my three guesses?" Corner said as he took photos of the bloody footprints around the body.

"Not really... but sure," Harry said, bracing himself.

"First... you don't play by their rules. You keep pissing off all of them."

"They keep pissing me off!"

"There's a hierarchy here, Harry. I know that you're a natural leader, but you don't take orders from anyone. Yeah, Proudfoot's not your supervisor, but he's a senior Auror. He's been here twenty years. You don't show him any respect."

"He's lazy and incompetent."

"Maybe, but what is he going to report to Robards? Nothing good, I bet, which is my second guess. None of your... senior Aurors like you and report that you are argumentative, impulsive and juvenile... and they take credit for what you do."

"Huh..." Harry grunted as Mike took photos of a screwdriver and corresponding holes in the body that they were standing over.

"Third... the media still hounds you and still has the power to turn any case into a circus. By having a senior Auror watching over you, they are charged with making statements to the press, and you are prohibited from doing it."

"Why would that matter? Do they think that I'll compromise a case? I don't ever talk to them."

"No... they are worried that you will compromise their jobs," Mike said flatly.

Harry looked at him in surprise.

Mike nodded. "You don't like them, any of them, including Robards and Hopkirk. The only reason you're still in the Ministry is because of Kingsley. You have power that they don't like, and you've done nothing to assail their fears. You fight every decision they make and ignore the chain of command."

"Because I won't bow to my babysitter?"

"Yeah... and they know you call them your babysitters, too, and you can walk into the Prophet's office at any time and be given the front page without even asking for it."

"So, they're chickenshits. Whatever... thanks, Mike."

"Harry, you're a good Auror. Instinctive and smart. I like working with you... but it's getting to the point where we are getting bad reviews because we're on your case."

Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize... well other from your bad temper... but you need to figure this out. Sit down with Robards. Convince him that you can play ball and stop bagging on your 'babysitters'. Yeah, they're lazy and stole your work, but that's not going to help you. Just talk about what you can do and ask for a chance. That you have never botched up a case or missed a procedure or evidence," Mike said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah... thanks."

"Good luck... but to this mess. I got remnants of several Silencing Charms, so DEK tortures him and then releases him, following your torture for information theory. There's only one set of boot prints, same as before, still no sign of a second person. No sign of cleanup either. They don't care about evidence."

"If we catch him, there's plenty enough to convict, but he doesn't leave anything that will identify him to catch him. Even if we use muggle tech... fingerprints and DNA won't get us very far. The Ministry doesn't keep records like that."

"Which is why we ignored it."

"Still, there's a chance. Can you take the evidence? I'll talk to our Scotland Yard rep."

"You got to do the notification, too."

"I know," he said, and he hated doing it, but surprisingly, the family members felt better when he tells it. They're surprised, of course, but he gives them real compassion, despite being former supporters of Voldemort.

Ron and Terry came back in, waving their wands to change back to robes. "No muggles saw anything. One heard a crack a week ago. We found the jump point, but it went to Diagon."

Harry nodded. Dead end. "Call the mortician when you're done, Mike."

"Right-o."

A crack outside brought all of them to their feet, wands at the ready. "Harry?" a voice called.

"Savage?" he answered, and the Auror came in, and they all stood down. It was procedure before entering a scene to announce yourself.

"Harry... I think I caught another possible one," Auror Savage said, quickly. Harry liked her of all the senior Aurors. She never cared about propriety. It was about solving the case. She also knew about being ostracized, as she was the only female senior Auror in the department.

"Shit, already? Must've gotten an opportunity," Harry said. DEK killed every two to three weeks, usually.

"I'd say. The guy's a recluse. His mother reported that he went to Diagon Alley to check on their finances and didn't return. She thought perhaps he had just Apparated to his room, but he didn't come down this morning," she said, reading off the notes she had taken from the interview.

"Morning? How long has he been missing?"

"Twenty-two hours, Harry."

He grimaced. Twenty hours was the longest time any victims had lived. He was most likely dead. "Name?"

Savage looked at her note-parchment. "Draco Malfoy."

All four of them straightened up. Harry breathed, "Fuck."

Probably won't update this one as much... but let me know if you're interested.