Et tu, Brute?

The evening grew darker and the shadows long as the shops in Diagon Alley began to close, while Knockturn Alley kicked up in full swing. Knockturn Alley is at its busiest during the evening rather than the day. Quite a few clients loudly bargain for rare ingredients with a withered crone with a cackling laugh, a large mole on her chin, and a hooked nose.

In a dark alley, a group gathers one by one. Among them is a burly Death Eater, Seth. Quite a few Death Eaters had gathered those eager to prove themselves before the Dark Lord. Among them is an arrogant wizard, Quilliam Arnold, (the cousin of Garrick Arnold). As they wait, Seth roughly barks, "Where's you cousin, Quillilam?"

"Patience, you thick muscled-headed clout," Quilliam haughtily replied. "My cousin, Garrick will come."

"He better," Seth grumbled. "He does the Dark Lord no favors by sitting still and doing nothing. The Dark Lord does not forgive the spineless."

Quilliam sneers at the burly Death Eater, before hearing another fast approaching them. His expression brightens at spotting the stern, proud features of his cousin. "I thought you were going to excuse yourself from tonight, Garrick,"

The normally expensively dressed wizard haughtily stares down his nose at his cousin. "That vile wretch has taken over my purse strings," Garrick Arnold hissed. "My father approves considering that Dementia (nee Pewtritt) is carrying a male heir. He's handed over my vault key to that hideous beast."

Seth folds his muscular arms over his chest. "Then you shouldn't have bedded the chit," he grumbled. "Though she's from a good pureblood family and you can't ignore her like those lesser witches."

"To my vast misfortune," Garrick cursed under his breath the day that he drank to bury his sorrows. He had severely drunk that day to forget about his disagreement with the Hogwarts Board. And yet now he found himself in even a worse position having bedded a hideous pureblood shrew, who was now his wife and the mother of his unborn child.

"All will be well, cousin," Quilliam optimistically promised. "After tonight, we will be the ones in power." Garrick gratefully nodded his head towards his cousin for the vote of confidence before the Death Eaters grew in silence as the hour approaches.

Within the Ministry of Magic, as most of the employees begin to floo home, the division of Magical Maintenance begins to arrive as they are the custodians of the Ministry. An older wizard with an arrogant tilt of his nose grudgingly begins to mop the floor on the Level Six of the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Transportation. After the untimely death of his daughter, Dolores, Orford Umbridge was forced to return to the Department of Magical Maintenance and ask for his old job back.

Orford's lips curled unpleasantly in a manner that much resembled his deceased daughter, Dolores. He should have never had to return and yet here he was again. To top it all off, there were squibs and muquibs that were paid much better than he for their jobs. It was simply insulting that a wizard such as he would not be granted a superior job.

It was not that Orford lacked talent, but rather he was highly an unpleasant wizard to work with. His arrogance and pride had earned him far more enemies than friends at the Ministry. No one wanted to be saddled with the spiteful proud wizard except for his former superiors, who took pity on him and gave him his old job back.

By the time Orford finished moping the floor the Department of Magical Transportation was all but empty. Glancing around slyly, he carefully set his mop against the wall. He reached into his pocket for his key, before moving closer to a locked door that led into the offices of the Floo Network Authority. Soundlessly jangling the door open, he stepped inside and quietly locked the door behind him.

Peering through the office, Orford sees thousands of miniature hearths each representing an open or restricted Floo Network. His beady eyes scanned through the small golden nameplates before each hearth, before arriving at the one in question. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a twinkling golden charm. The charm had an engraved thief carrying a bag.

With care, Orford carefully set the enchanted charm on the hearth. The restricted hearth began to glow menacingly red, before returning to normal. The enchanted charm in the miniature fireplace transforms into a small sand hourglass and begins to swiftly pour away. Once the sand on the tap ran out, the enchanted charm would vanish and there would be no trace of the charm left behind.

Confident that he won't be caught, Orford exits as quickly as he came. He much more happily grabs his mop and resumes mopping. He'd been given an entire sack of galleons to temporarily change the Gringotts Floo network from an exit to an entry. Since it was a temporary bypass and not a permanent one, the Floo Network wards would not be triggered.

Humming to himself, Orford moves down the hallway passing enchanted windows that at present showed a sunset on a far-off sandy beach. He quietly imagined all that he would do with his newfound riches. He couldn't be too obvious about his spending, but he would greatly enjoy himself. He would show everyone that he was naturally superior to all of them.

Orford's face darkens abruptly recalling the chance encounter with his USELESS, LESSER SQUIB son, Berford. Berford a mere squib had the audacity to return to their world. Even worse, Berford taught at one of the Quattor Academies. It was simply sacrilegious that a mere SQUIB was teaching the future witches and wizards of the next generation. It was an abhorrent idea that showed all that was wrong with the world at present. Well, not if he had any say in it! He would do his part to right their world again.

With great arrogance, Orford left his work half done and moved on to his next task. However, he neglected or rather purposefully did not think about his ex-muggle wife, Ellen Cracknell. It just so happened that Ellen Cracknell had been hired at the same Quattor Academy as their son, Berford as an administrator. He only knew because a former classmate from Hogwarts had in passing said as much.

At the time, Orford ignored the comment, but a small thorn grew under his skin. He would never admit it, but the fact that his ex-wife was in a higher position of power irked and chaffed at Orford's pride like no other. It was the main contributing factor that had led to his accepting a bribe from Quilliam Arnold, a proper pureblood wizard of most excellent breeding, and disregarding his vows as a member of the Department of Magical Maintenance. In all likelihood, nothing would ever be tracked back to him.

However, greed is a ravenous, starving beast. It is never satisfied for long. It is always wanting more and more to fill its never-ending hunger for more.