Arthur Bones stood motionless; his back pressed into the brickwork of what had begun life as a Victorian workshop, but was now little more than a storage shed. The long delicate fingers of his left hand touched the wall behind him lightly, the gritty surface of the pointing between the bricks founding him in the cold reality of the time and place. His right hand was wrapped around his wand. He breathed slowly, counting his breaths, letting time pass soundlessly, evenly. Somewhere off towards Tottenham Court Road, a lorry rattled across some roughness in the street surface, clattering and rumbling its way through the dreams of the few Muggles who actually lived in this part of London. It was amazing how here in the center of a metropolis like the capital it could be so desolate, so lifeless.

It would have been vastly easier to follow the target in a crowd; the back streets around Goodge Street Underground Station were straight and narrow and gave very little cover. Fortunately, the target seemed oblivious, striding onward without a backward glance, doubtless sure of his safety in the oily damp of the pre-dawn darkness. But the tip off had been quite precise: there was a gathering of a small group of Death Eaters taking place in the lower reaches of the Underground system: the lower levels of an abandoned station last used as a bomb shelter during the War. The target had appeared on time, or near enough on time as not to matter, and had led them to the rusty door into which he had disappeared. They would wait precisely ninety seconds before trying to follow.

'They' in this case being himself, James Potter (a bright enough young wizard) and his fiancée, Lily Evans, of all things. Arthur had reservations concerning the wisdom of sending out two people so closely attached to one another, but the plain fact was, the two and Arthur were all that were available. He would have liked to have another, and perhaps older member of the Order with them, but the fact was, it was rather pleasing in a way to be in charge of the mission.

That was, if the other two remembered that he was in charge.

Arthur vaguely remembered Potter from Hogwarts. A trouble maker as far as he could recall, already in the third year: the year Arthur left the School. A trouble-making Gryffindor and his girlfriend. Quite the team to lead. Oh, well, Dumbledore always knew what he was doing, so he must know now. Or at least one could hope.

With barely a sound, the girl appeared behind him and whispered something about humming the James Bond Theme. Probably some Muggle television program. Arthur took his eyes off the distant door long enough to scowl back at the couple behind him. Not that they could possibly see his face in this light.

"Right, James," Arthur whispered, "You slip along to the right side, Lily, you take the left. I'll stay here and cover your backs. Don't touch the door until I get there." He gave a little flick of his wand hand to send them on their ways. When the two were stationed on either side of the door he detached himself from the shadows and slipped over to the rusty slab of metal that sealed the entrance to the underground. Touching the tip of his wand lightly to the hinges and the handle mechanism, he whispered "Oliomente." Old Canches had insisted he learn the spell for some reason and now he understood why: the last thing they wanted now was for the door to creak. Slowly easing the handle and pulling gently, he swung the door open. Arthur Bones gave a nod of his head, and James Potter slipped into the black.

Last Edited By: BJB47 May 19 08 5:20 PM. Edited 1 times.