Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 87: Cops on the Prowl (Patreon)

Chapter 87: Cops on the Prowl

Thanks to Merula’s warnings, I was able to set up a couple of plans for the eventuality of Aurors showing up.

First of all, I got rid of most of the wards surrounding my research warehouse. Yes, that was risky, but you know what’s even riskier? Having high-quality wards that professional wardmasters would nod in approval of. For a mere Squib to have anything like that, it would be absurd. Hopefully I wouldn’t need them for the next couple of weeks, but it made me nervous all the same.

The next thing I did was request for my security teams to avoid the area unless contacted by one of the workers at the warehouse – or the wards alerted them. I didn’t know how deep the racism and bigotry went, but it went pretty deep all the same, and having werewolves and vampires out in the open would not do me any favors.

Finally, I moved anything ‘Muggle’ out of the warehouse. No need to really make it obvious that I was dealing with the mundane world.

I was also highly grateful for the fact that the potion labs in the research building all looked like regular wizarding potion rooms, just like you’d find in Diagon Alley: brass and pewter cauldrons, mortars and pestles, jars full of weird, unknown things in them on shelves while the whole place was lit by candles or enchanted lamps… it looked nothing like the nice and clean production facilities with rune-etched stainless steel mixing vats and people in white protective gear.

‘Plus, Merula’s added her own touch to the place, making it even more magical and resembling a potioneer’s workspace,’ I thought. She’d brought her own supplies and equipment, and set it up in a corner of the warehouse as her personal laboratory.

Silently praying that the Auror’s wouldn’t show up, but knowing in my heart they would, I headed to class at Oxford. I would be done soon, but there were still plenty of essays and exams to go before I could receive my diploma.

My happy thoughts didn’t last that long, though. When I finished my classes for the morning, I felt a tug on one of my artifacts tied to the wards around the research lab.

With a frown, I slipped away to the bathroom. Once I was in a stall and out of sight of anyone, I took out a handkerchief from my pocket and muttered “Smelly Poprocks.”

The Portkey whisked me away to my office in the docks, and I strode out to find my employees.

“Boss, boss! There’s an Auror here!” Merula said nervously when she spotted me walking down the hallway towards her workspace. “He wants to see you!”

“Yes, so it seems,” I said. “Hang back for now.”

My Potion Mistress nodded nervously and steeped aside, letting me past so I could get to the entrance of the warehouse.

The Auror standing out front was a middle-aged man with only a few wrinkles around the eyes to show his age. Knowing how wizards aged, he could be anywhere from forty to seventy years old, but I estimated he was on the lower end given he was here in person. An older Auror likely wouldn’t show up in person unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Good morning,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed at his presence here. “How can I help you?”

“Mr. Hunch, was it?” he inquired, taking out a cigar and lighting it with his wand. “I’m Auror Kipper.”

“Mr. Rose, actually,” I replied, correcting the name he’d used.

The Auror raised an eyebrow at that. “I see. Well, in any case, I am here because of some… complaints.”

“What complaints? I’m afraid you must be mistaken,” I replied. “I’ve received nothing of the sort.”

“I do not know why these matters weren’t brought up to you in person, but I am not here to answer that in the first place. I am merely here, as a courtesy, to give you a warning,” Kipper said, before blowing out a bit of smoke in my direction.

“Sir, look around you,” I drawled. “This is a potion’s workshop in the middle of an abandoned warehouse district. Who could possibly be making complaints about me? The rats? Or perhaps the pigeons?”

At that, Kipper snorted, and he rolled his eyes. “These complaints are not about your choice of… locale, nor from any neighbors, but rather, a more pertinent one regarding your business conduct.”

“I apologize, sir, but how has my conduct with my potion business earned any complaints?” I asked, wondering what their angle was. How would they be trying to influence me and force my hand?

“Are you aware that there are laws against monopolies in the potion making business, Mr. Hunch?”

“Monopolies?” I uttered incredulously, while trying not to react to him calling me ‘Hunch.’

“Quite. You see, by purchasing potion ingredients from the Greengrasses, then selling directly to Greengrass affiliated stores, you are creating what is known as a ‘monopoly.’ This is illegal, because the Ministry prefers a free market approach to businesses, especially an essential one such as potioneering,” Kipper said, talking down to me like I didn’t know a core component of economics.

“People are upset… because I am buying ingredients from the Greengrasses, and then selling the potions back to them?” I inquired. That was not what I’d thought the Ministry would believe I was doing.

I mean, there was no way they’d be giving me the soft approach if they knew what I was actually doing, but I found it odd they thought I was doing something with the Greengrasses.

‘Unless… they think it’s a money laundering scheme,’ I guessed.

To whoever was looking at my business, it must have seemed like I ‘bought’ things from the Greengrasses, then ‘sold’ the potions to them. The Greengrasses would pocket the profits from this and resell my products, perhaps under the table since there was no evidence that the market was being flooded with cheap potions.

As I was thinking all of that, Kipper continued on, unaware or perhaps uncaring of my internal thoughts.

“There’s also a slight issue with your head of brewing,” the Auror claimed. “A one Merula Snype.”

“I admit, I was hesitant about hiring a person who was previously a waitress at the Hog’s Head, but she’s proven to be an integral part of my operations here,” I told him smoothly. “I have absolutely no complaints about her.”

“I see. Mr. Hunch, are you aware she has been blacklisted from working in any capacity with potions?” Kipper asked me.

“I was not aware of that,” I said slowly, trying to make it seem like I truly had been unaware. “She did not inform me of this. Good thing she doesn’t work with potions at all. She oversees things here. As an administrator. Not a brewer.”

“But her title is ‘head of brewing,’” the Auror pointed out.

“She is the head of the brewers, yes. She is in charge of keeping them in line. No touching any cauldrons for her.”

‘Acting classes, don’t fail me now!’ I thought to myself, urgently pleading with the man to leave my excuses be.

Auror Kipper tilted his head to the side, clearly not believing me at all.

“Mr. Hunch, I will need to inspect your workshop, to make sure that it is up to spec, and that Ms. Snype is not handling any potions or their byproducts.”

“Afraid I can’t let you do that,” I replied, folding my arms. “It’s a potion’s lab. Full of volatile liquids. Can’t risk a man who knows little about the procedures we use here.”

“I’ll have you know I received Exceeds Expectations in my Potion OWLs,” the Auror scowled.

“And does that make you qualified to judge the safety of my workshop?” I retorted. I knew it didn’t. “Under Code 12 of the Potion Safety Act, you need an official, licensed Potion Master to conduct a safety inspection and investigation on any properly licensed potioneering lab. And I am, in fact, properly licensed.”

A neat little trick of bureaucracy, really. I’d slipped a couple galleons to a clerk or two and gotten my paperwork slotted into a couple different places, and had Sirius and Harry lean on a few people to get it all squared away properly. Far as anyone knew, I was completely legit.

Normally, a Squib like myself would never be able to get something like that from the Ministry, but with bribes and the backing of Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and the Greengrass family, a lot of things were possible.

Of course, just because I had the paperwork didn’t mean the Auror here wouldn’t be above ignoring it all and fabricating some excuse, so I pulled out a galleon and tossed it his way.

“Perhaps you should come back when you have that Potion Master,” I suggested, and he took the coin before nodding.

“That would be for the best,” Kipper replied, before Aparating away.

‘That’s taken care of. Now I have to find a way to get these monkeys off my back,’ I thought.

Any Potion Master that Kipper brought with him for the inspections would likely be in on the scam the Auror was trying to pull off, so I couldn’t count on him being unbiased and even-handed in his review of the workshop.

 Both would likely have to end up bribed, and I mentally began to tally up how many people I’d need to pass money to under the table before this issue went away.

The answer I came to was ‘far too many.’ Even a single person taking a bribe was too many for my taste, because they’d always come back for more later on, thinking they had you by the balls.

Unfortunately, there was no real way to deal with them easily. Unless I was willing to take extreme measures, the Auror would remain a problem for a while.

‘For now, I have to play along,’ I decided as I walked back into the warehouse to let Merula and the others know it was safe to relax. For now. But I’d really need something to help me out sooner rather than later.

111 &&& 111

At quarter past six, I pulled up to a pub, looking it over as I parked in a free spot nearby. It seemed like a nice and cozy place, great for having fun times with friends. Which was exactly why I was there, in fact.

‘I need this,’ I thought to myself as I got out of the car. Between my classes and the Aurors prowling around, my nerves were frayed and I needed the ability to feel normal after so much work.

“Oi, wotcher, Ed,” Tonks called out, raising a mug towards me.

“Wotcher, Dora,” I replied. “And Sam, good to see ya. You both doing well?”

“The best!” Sam said, raising her own mug. “I got word that the British Baking Battle should be finished with editing and everything, then I can get my prize!”

I nodded. I’d almost forgotten that he’d participated in a cooking competition earlier in the year. “When can we expect the show to finally air?”

“Well, the recordings and editing for the tryouts is done, so it shouldn’t be long now. Gonna take prime time airing for the Summer television season,” Sam explained.

I was eager to finally see the show on TV.  It took a while for the edits to be made, but I’d underestimated how long the filming and everything would actually take without the more advanced software and such in my old timeline. Here in the 90s, it took a lot longer for things to be recorded and edited.

But we’d soon get to see our loveable chef kicking ass and taking names!

“No Delilah tonight?” Sam asked as I slid into my seat across from the duo.

“Afraid not,” I replied with a sigh. “She had a last-minute thing pop up. Her father, or something. Not sure what is up with him, he’s been running her ragged for a while.”

“He doesn’t like the fact she’s taking those engineering classes,” Sam huffed.

“The success of her hydro-electric generator designs has spurred her creativity,” I agreed.

“Sounds like a right bellend that man does,” Tonks huffed in disgust.

“He is. Useful, though,” I agreed.

“Oh! Before I forget, I need to warn you!” Tonks suddenly spoke up.

“About what?” I asked.

“I heard some people in the office talking about a potions warehouse in the docks getting visited soon by an Auror or two,” Tonks warned me. “Only place like that I know of is yours.”

“Ah, if you mean Kipper, then we’ve already met,” I said, not bothering to hide my distaste.

“Ugh, that guy,” Tonks scowled. “Yeah, he’s one of the bad ones. Everyone knows he takes bribes under the table, and it’s an open secret that he works for Malfoy, too.”

“Malfoy… let me guess, the white-haired arsehole uses Kipper to go after people ‘legally,’” I guessed, and Tonks nodded.

“That’s right.”

“Come on, you two, let’s not talk about work, school, or depressing shit right now,” Sam requested, her face scrunched up a bit. I shared a look with Tonks and we both nodded.

“Alright, we can do that,” I replied. “Come on, then, we should discuss something else: like if you two want to attend a party Delilah and I are throwing next month.”

“A party? Sure, that sounds great!” Tonks said.

“What’s the occasion?” Sam inquired.

“Her birthday,” I said with a grin. “She’s gonna have a lot of fun and what-not. Of course, it’d be even better with friends.”

I held up a finger. “There’s gonna be two separate events. A mundane one, and a magical one. For the latter, I was thinking of inviting Fleur.”

“Her French penpal?” Tonks queried.

“Yup. Would you be able to do some catering for her birthday, Sam?” I wondered.

“Sure, that sounds fun. I’ve got some magical recipes I want to try out,” Sam claimed eagerly, a glint of excitement shining in her eyes.

“Great! I know Delilah will be looking forward to it,” I said, certain of it.

We chatted a bit more about minor things – and nothing to do with work or school. It was nice to kick back and relax with a pint after the stressful day I’d had, and pretending things were normal.

111 &&& 111

The next day, Auror Kipper returned to the warehouse, as I’d expected he would. The wards alerted me to his arrival and I got up to greet him. At his side was an older gentleman who wore a pair of pince-nez eyeglasses and had greying hair done up in a rat tail.

An odd choice for hairstyle from a man pushing late middle-age, but not something that odd for wizards. He reeked of stale potions and carried himself like a bureaucrat, and there was no doubt the man Kipper was going to use to try and get my operations shut down.

“Ah, Mr. Hunch, good morning,” Kipper said, greeting me as I exited the building.

“Auror Kipper,” I replied blandly, trying not to get riled up against at my old name being used. Instead, I sent a glance at the gentleman beside him. “And this is the man who will be checking my workshop?”

“Quite. Potion Master Donahue,” the man said with a sniff. He didn’t even offer me his hand, which irked me a little as well.

“Come on in, then,” I said, ushering them inside. “I sent the workers away for the day so you two can have the whole place to yourselves as you ‘inspect’ everything.”

By my tone, it was blatantly clear I didn’t believe for one second they were here to do any of that, either, but neither of them called me out on it. Instead, they just swept into the warehouse like they owned the place and began poking their noses everywhere.

“If there is anything I can do to help the process along – anything at all – just let me know,” I told Kipper while not so discreetly letting a couple of galleons drop into one of the pockets of his robe.

“Very good. I’m pleased to hear that you have some semblance of how things are supposed to go,” the Auror said in a condescending tone as he patted his now-filled pocket, letting it jangle a bit. I ignored him. He sucked and I hoped he got eaten by a dragon.

‘No, wait, death by dragon is too good for him. Puffskeins! Yeah, being eaten by a ravenous horde of Puffskeins sounds a lot more degrading as a way to go,’ I thought to himself. And since they only had long tongues like an anteater, such a death would likely be as drawn out as it was humiliating.

“Mr. Hunch, what is this?” Potion Master Donahue called out, drawing my attention, and I turned to see what he was inspecting.

It turned out to be a collection of fans designed to remove any fumes from the area. I’d installed them above the workshop so nobody would choke to death in case a potion exploded. And since this was where the experimental stuff was made, it was a wise decision. Only had to be used twice so far, but it’d saved lives both times.

“Ah, that? Those are Scent Suction magic tools. The Vietnamese use them to remove bad smells from an area without interfering with the potions. As you no doubt know, some potions can be finicky, so no spells can be cast around them, but they make a rather rank smell. Don’t want the Muggles to come sniffing around, eh?” I lied through my teeth.

They weren’t magical at all, they were perfectly normal electricity powered exhaust fans. But I doubted the man would like that answer, so I made up some Mooncalf droppings about Vietnamese mages. He probably had never seen a Vietnamese person in his life, and likely knew even less due to the isolated nature of magical communities.

“Ah, yes, that’s what I assumed they were,” Donahue blustered, pretending to know what the heck I was saying and inadvertently going along with my lie.

“You must be a truly skilled potioneer to recognize such obscure Oriental magic,” I praised back-handedly.

He preened a little and moved on to another part of the workshop, checking the ingredient stockroom next.

“Hmm, you are well organized,” Donahue hummed, checking the labels on a glass specimen jar. It had the name of the ingredient suspended within, the date it was obtained, and the date it would no longer be viable to be used in potions. It also included, in color coded dots, the different danger levels of the substances.

Red dot meant restricted materials that could be lethal if handled incorrectly, yellow was ingredients that needed very specific preparation methods, and green dots meant you’d have to be an idiot to harm yourself with it, or screw up the prep for it.

I also included a numerical code on all of the labels so, if somebody needed to use, say, three Grade-2 newt tails, they simply wrote down ‘3x NT-2’ on the requisition forms. It improved the speed at which we did bureaucracy by a fair bit.

“Do you have receipts for everything?” Donahue inquired. “And the certification necessary for some of these products?”

“I certainly do,” I replied with a smug smirk, taking some papers out of a pocket to wave in his face. He took them, blinked, paled and little and coughed awkwardly.

“Well… good. Good! Everything is in order,” he stammered, handing them back.

Kipper only got a brief glimpse over Donahue’s shoulder, but even he could only grimace as he saw the Greengrass name and seal upon my receipts and on the certificates I’d gotten to authorize my ownership and use of them in making potions.

“May we have a moment?” the Auror requested, putting a hand on the Potion Master’s shoulder and steering him away to have a private conversation.

Curious, I twisted a ring I wore, and felt my ears tingle a little as my hearing sharpened to be something closer to superhuman than it was before.

“Are we going to have a problem, here?” Kipper whispered furiously at Donahue.

“N-no, we shouldn’t,” the older man denied.

“Because if he actually has the backing of the Greengrasses and this isn't some minor scheme like I was led to believe-!”

“If he truly does, then they, or one of their agents, would have already been here to meet with us,” Donahue replied, becoming a bit more confident. “The Squib has a business agreement with the Greengrasses. That’s all this is.”

“You better hope you are right,” the Auror hissed, before stomping back.

I undid my ring’s enchantment, my hearing returning to normal. “Is everything alright?” I inquired.

“Yes,” Kipper replied curtly. “Now, Potion Master, let us finish the inspection.”

The older man nodded and the trio went through the building once more, until they’d seen everything, and Donahue was finally able to tell me the final results.

“So, how was it?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be already.

“Hmm… While your organization skills are decent, I’m afraid that the rest of your workshop does not meet the minimum requirements of safety set by the Ministry,” the Potion Master claimed, and I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

I knew that was a lie. My safety standards for the research lab were better than typical safety procedures used by potioneers in the Wizarding World.

“Yes, that could be a problem,” I said slowly, letting none of my skepticism leak out. “I will endeavor to get that corrected if you could provide me a list of what needs correcting.”

“Ah, yes,” Donahue replied, not having expected that. Why? Had he assumed I would just take him at his word and then do nothing if there had been actual problems? What an idiot.

“Now, while I’m sure you’d want me to ‘close down’ for a few days to ‘assess the safety’ of my workshop, I’m sure we can come to some other arrangement,” I said, and two pouches of gold coins were slipped onto the table. I wasn’t really being subtle about it.

‘I know why you are really here,’ was what I was saying without actually doing so. ‘So take the money and leave.’

“I’ll check back in a month,” Kipper said, pocketing his bribe. “I hope your safety has improved by then.”

‘Oh, so you’re going to try and extort me on a monthly basis, is that it?’ I thought, narrowing my eyes at the Auror. ‘I am going to enjoy crushing you when I can.’

However, I simply nodded, and gestured at the two that they may leave my property already. Both men left, Apparating away, and I folded my arms with a scowl. I was frustrated, and quite annoyed.

‘I cannot allow them to dictate terms for me for longer than a year,’ I thought. ‘And that means I need a way to deal with both of those scumbags.’

Could I get the Aurors to investigate one of their own, I wondered? But some more thought made that a bad idea. If they did so, they’d likely discover that I was one of the people bribing him, and while I could spin it as being extorted, it could bring too many unpleasant eyes onto me.

‘I need somebody powerful on the side of the law to help me out,’ I thought bitterly.

Honestly, I already had a candidate in mind: Madam Bones. But she took certain oaths, and even if she was dating Remus I didn’t know if she’d be willing to listen to me or work with a criminal like myself.

‘If I could provide irrefutable proof that my actions are for the benefit of the Magical World, then perhaps she could be brought over to our side,’ I mused. ‘Or maybe… Voldemort could be useful for that. If I can prove to Madam Bones he is still alive, and that he is still a threat, maybe I could ease her into the rest of things I’ve been doing and preparing for.’

Having her join the little secret society I was building would be helpful in the long run. Not only because of her status, but also due to her relationship with Remus. I liked the werewolf, and I also knew he really liked Madam Bones, and that keeping all of this from her would slowly but surely begin eating at him, especially once we got closer to certain… events, like the World Cup, Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the return of Voldemort.

‘Though I wonder how he plans on doing his resurrection this time?’ I wondered to himself, returning to the office to think and plot.

I strongly believed he would use the same ritual from the books to come back. It was simply too convenient for him, as the material components were fairly ease to source, aside from whatever went into making the base potion.

To that end, I’d already had a team set up in Little Hangleton to observe the area. All they knew was that it was a potential Death Eater gathering site, so they knew to keep an eye on anything ‘weird’ happening nearby, and it let me watch over the evil shed where the Deathly Hallow and potentially final Horcrux was, and ensure that if somebody did move into the old Riddle Manor and graveyard, I’d know.

‘And now that I’m thinking about it… Sirius, Remus, Harry and I really need to decide what we’re going to do about this,’ I thought with a grimace.

Do we let Voldemort return to a body so it would be easier to gather up his followers and kill them all in one fell swoop? Or did we just end the threat right now by eliminating his final Horcrux and then blasting him and Crouch Jr. the moment they return to England?

I just didn’t know what to choose. I knew Remus and Sirius were against the first option because it put Harry too close to danger. Even if Harry didn’t get his name thrown into the Goblet of Fire by a disguised Death Eater he would still be at risk as one of the main components for the ritual.

Oh, sure, Voldemort could use any old ‘enemy’ for the ritual, but the snake-faced git was a damned dramatic edgelord. He’d choose Harry for the symbolism if nothing else.

However, Harry and I both rather liked the first plan for a couple reason. Harry didn’t mind putting himself into danger if it meant we could eliminate dozens of Death Eaters in a single go, and we had ways to extract him if it got too hot. And I really wanted to plant a bunch of C4 beneath some graves and then blow it all up when Lucius Malfoy and the other scum-suckers appeared.

Of course, that all hinged on Voldemort following the books, and after having distorted Fate by removing the Horcrux early and resolving the prophecy well before the original timeline, we had no clue if he’d do it exactly like that anymore, so the second option just might be safer all around since it was something we could do right now.

‘Damn it,’ I groaned, putting my head into my hands in frustration. ‘Why can’t this be easy?’

For a moment I sat at my desk like that, before deciding to test my luck. I reached into the velvet bag containing my runic dice bones and grabbed seven at random before tossing them onto the table. They clattered about and I closed my eyes as I focused intently on what I wanted to know.

‘Come on,’ I pleaded to myself and whatever spirits or deities might be listening. ‘Tell me what I need to do in order to keep Harry safe.’

When the dice finally stopped making noise I opened my eyes and looked down at the quintet of polished knucklebones.

‘Flowing water,’ I read off the first dice, the symbol depicting a river.

‘Crossroads,’ was what I saw the second dice’s symbol meant.

The runes of Ice and Death appeared for the third and fourth die, while runes for Fire, the World, and the Tree of Yggsdrasil could be found on dice five, six, and seven.

Taking it all in, my mind quickly parsed the information and came up with the following bit of prophecy:

‘The original path has split. Two choices lie ahead of you. The Path of Ice will ensure as little blood as possible is spilled, but nothing changes. The Path of Fire will spread chaos to the world, but the ashes will grow something greater.’

It was vague, like all such matters of Divination. Yet I was able to piece together a bit of it.

The Path of Ice was the first option, of letting Voldemort revive himself and then using that moment to kill all the Death Eaters he gathered. But doing so would ensure nothing would actually change afterwards. Bigots would remain in power. Evil would continue to dwell in the hearts of men and women of the British Isles as they’d want to keep their heads in the sand.

The other choice was the Path of Fire. It was eliminating the Horcrux now, and causing Voldemort some sort of setback without eliminating his allies in Britain. Such a thing would lead to a war, one that would drag in all of Magical Europe. And just like Ragnarök, the war would provide a chance for the rot within the magical society to be cleansed by fire, and ensure something new, something better, would emerge afterwards.

With a groan I swept the dice back into their bag. This… this was big. I needed to tell the others about this.

‘Why couldn’t I just have dealt only with corrupt Aurors?’ I wondered to myself with a mental whine. Damn Riddle Junior, making more work for me to deal with it!