ink - sirius black

street lamps and verbal amubushes

tw: violence

November 21, 1979
11:11 pm
Callaway Investigations
London

Anneliese's back ached from being slumped over her wide desk for the past three hours, holding her forehead in her hands as she looked at the pictures sitting on the edge. It was a sharp pain, starting at the small of her back and creeping upwards.

Her eyes went slightly blurry as she stared at the closest picture of her, Sirius, and James sitting together in a booth in the Leaky Cauldron, all of them laughing at something going on behind the camera.

The one next to it was of her and Charlie, him jumping up and trying to catch one of the planes flying through the air in her office that she had folded into a dragon for him.

She smiled a bit more with the picture from the last Christmas entitled The Callaways (technically) that showed her, Leo, and Ella Mae all hugging with their identical eyebrows furrowed in silent laughter.

Finally, the most recent was of Sirius, Regulus, her, and Myra all sitting together with the caption the most confusing double date to ever exist.

Anneliese pressed them all flat down on the wood so that she couldn't see any of their faces anymore. It was just a distraction at this point, something keeping her from focusing on what she needed to.

Which was where the hell Peter was.

The one section of her green notebook devoted to him had turned into the entire back of a bulletin board with red string, pictures, notes, newspaper clippings and all to complete the picture. Anneliese paced back and forth as she stood in front of it, yawning again.

There was simply no pattern to his movement or the places they saw him, tiny glimpses from windows or rumors, but nothing ever enough to get in a single word with him. A discussion wasn't even in her highest hopes or the picture at all.

Somehow, Pettigrew still wrote to James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus. They were still in constant contact with him, but whenever they tried to make plans to actually see one another or track an owl, Peter always found a way to get out of it.

The only people who knew about Peter being a spy were Anneliese and Regulus, the two people who had been hurt themselves. Yet they both knew that no one would believe them. So they had formed a kind of alliance, a way to find him and prove themselves.

It had been Regulus's idea to open up a case on Pettigrew, unknown to the knowledge of anyone that wasn't working under Anneliese.

They had all been sworn to secrecy, even if they didn't understand why trying to help find a friend was such a thing that should be kept under wraps.

It had now been exactly eighteen months since any of them had an in person conversation with Pettigrew, and it was slowly driving Anneliese insane.

She slammed down her coffee mug on her desk, picking up a cigarette and lighting it with an aggressive snap of her fingers. Callaway had been smoking more and more often recently, so much that even Sirius said she should slow down a bit.

What bullshit, Anneliese thought, smoking coming from her lips in a long, steady stream. As if he still doesn't drink every second that he's not on the job. And while he is working for the Order, actually. The stupid Order. God.

The Order of the Phoenix was becoming a pain in Callaway's side. And the Ministry, for that matter. Every major 'good' organization seemed to be after her.

It's because I'm better, Anneliese thought smugly. And they can't handle it.

And it was true.