The Hairpin Clue

John landed firmly on his feet in the auror department. He followed his godfather to his office. The early birds were just starting to arrive. There weren't many of them, but then, there weren't many aurors, just twenty-six.

They were the elite — the best. In a country of only twenty thousand, you couldn't expect there to be a massive standing army to battle the likes of Voldemort. They dealt with dark wizards. Regular law enforcement was handled by DMLE security wizards.

Sirius landed in his large chair, spread his legs, planted his large hands firmly on his knees, leaned forward, and looked him square in the eyes. "Alright kiddo. What's up?"

"You know how Ginny's been acting oddly recently?"

Sirius's expression turned pensive. "She does seem more distant."

"You know how the Weasleys are"—he hesitated—"not exactly the most well off?"

"Yes."

"Yesterday, I noticed Ginny was wearing this." He brought out the hair-clip and handed it to Sirius. "It's a limited edition, Nimbus 1700 broomstick that can be shrunk and used as a hair-clip. They cost one hundred Galleons. That's two and a half times more than a standard Nimbus 1700."

Sirius whistled and examined the hair clip up close, turning it this way and that. "And you nabbed it from her?"

"I want to make sure there's nothing on it that might be affecting her behaviour. I know how you always say to be on the watch for things that don't add up."

"That I do." Sirius rubbed his short beard.

"Fine, we'll take a look at it and see what's what. But next time, I advise you to bring this sort of thing to me before you start grabbing things. If this really does have dark magic on it there's no telling what it might have been able to do to you. Besides, I don't think I have to remind you that until you handed it to me under suspicion of being a dark artefact, what you did was legally theft."

John shrugged. "Sure thing."

Sirius stood, placed the hairpin broomstick on the desk, and started waving his wand and muttering under his breath. The wand waving and muttering went on for a while. A second wizard was called in, who also waved his wand around and muttered. A conversation was held. More wand waving and muttering. Then, Sirius's eyes looked mildly shocked. Then confused. Then worried. Sirius looked sidelong at him before shaking his head, as though getting rid of a thought.

"Well, Pup, the broom's clean. That doesn't mean there isn't anything suspicious going on though. I'd like to know if Molly and Arthur know someone is gifting their little girl really expensive presents."

John sighed. Half relieved that Ginny wasn't under possession, half frustrated that his only lead had come up dead. "So, we don't know anything more then?"

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "Well, not quite. We did crack the passcode to un-shrink the broomstick."

"Well?"

"Whoever gave Ginny the broomstick could be anyone, really. But we know he may be called Harry."

John's face blanked. "What?"

"The passcode is 'Harry's Awesome Broomstick'."

Harry. His breathing sped up. Images of his scrawny, evil Slytherin brother shot through his head. His adrenaline raced. That slimy little bastard. How dare he cosy up to HIS Ginny. Ginny who he loved. He stilled. Harry meant evil, which meant dark magic. Ginny could be enslaved. Love potions, hate potions, there were so many things.

Confundus charms, compulsion charms, legilimency, the imperius curse, possession. HIS Ginny on the floor of the chamber, soul being drained, body cold as death. How dare that bastard! He'd rip him to pieces. Break every bone in his body. No, that wasn't nearly enough. Skele-gro, then break them all again, and again, and again.

His thoughts ran far ahead of anything his rational mind told him his brother was capable of. His hands clenched and unclenched.

"Err. You okay there, Pup?"

He fought for control, passed his emotions through his occlumency exercises, and forced a sliver of rational thought into the saddle of his consciousness. He took a deep breath, and his eyes hardened.

"Yes, Sirius. I need to speak to my parents — now."

....

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