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» 14 March 2021 || To Whom It May Concern, Tag: Task Force
Elias Ramsey
 Posted: Jul 16 2017, 04:40 AM
QUOTE     
Merel is Offline
42
posts
46 years old

Ancient Runes

Hogwarts
Hogwarts Staff


Elias had to get to the ministry and quickly. He had to do what Maxwell had asked of him. Time was of the essence. It was time for the barrier to be taken down. Right now only he could help do that and it certainly was an important task. After separating from Maxwell he tried to be as quick as he could. While he made his way to his destination he tried to think about what he would say. How could he explain how he got through the barrier without mentioning Maxwell. He wasn't much of a liar, but he knew he had to, for his son's sake, to keep him safe from any sort of danger.

When he made it to the Ministry he kept his pace fast and swift. It was almost strange walking into the ministry. After being stuck behind the barrier he would never have thought that he would end up walking into the ministry. Although this was hardly freedom and really he didn't like being here (ever), it was still freeing to know he was beyond the thing that had kept everyone trapped for long enough. Being here was the first step for everyone to be free. First, he had to find somebody to talk to. HIs first port of call was to Helios, a man he knew he could trust with this information, he was bound to know what to do with the information Elias could provide.

He made it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and glanced around quickly to find someone to talk to. He walked up to the first person he saw. "I'm here to see Helios Craven.It's urgent. Please tell him it's Professor Elias Ramsey." He said rather impatiently. Right now he couldn't dilly dally. He hoped the person would understand what urgent meant. That they would do this one task without making it a big deal. As he stood there, tapping his fingers against his thigh he felt a bit like his old self, not quite caring about his actions until things were done. His previous paternal problems were pushed to the side for now and he felt more in control. Seeing Maxwell had been both a gift and a curse that shook his core. But now he could forget about it and deal with it later after all this was over. Business was first. "Hurry." He snapped.

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Orsen Dunnet
 Posted: Jul 16 2017, 02:46 PM
QUOTE     
Kris is Offline
40
posts
36 years old

Mis. of Muggle Artefacts

London
Ministry


The sensation of being pulled in two different directions was one rather new to Orsen, and he couldn't say that he was enjoying it very much. The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, already so overfilled by his collections of confiscated objects, was now brimming with paperwork of an unpleasant variety, transforming what had once been a rather flexible and laid-back job into something much more insidious. It was certainly more demanding of his time, but in spite of this, in recent weeks his mind had found other places to be. Task Force efforts were an interesting change of pace. He'd never considered himself much of an offensive player, but there were many different roles to take on when it came to the problem of the barrier, and he'd grown rather invested. The silver pocket mirror communicator they'd recovered was a puzzle in and of itself, sealed up just as tight as the impenetrable dome that had cut them off from Hogwarts, but he was determined to tease it apart. He'd buried himself in research, his desk in the Auror office accumulating a stack of Muggle texts in addition to all his parts for tinkering with. It was almost comical now, thinking back on his first conversation with Amon in which he'd described himself as "not much of a reader." He was devouring books on radio waves and computer programming, exploring modern encryption and World War Two era military code, filling the margins with tight clusters of notes and highlighting passages with color-coded marker.

Of course, even with such a fascinating project to occupy him, he still needed to take a break. Sitting in his cubicle, bent nearly double, he almost fell still, and it had the unfortunate side effect of leaving him even more restless than normal. He took frequent breaks just to pad down the stairs to Level Three and pop his head in on his brother...and the Obliviator office. He'd just pushed his way through the doors of the Auror office for one such journey, hands moving in mimicry of an absent-minded drum solo, when an unfamiliar figure emerged from the elevators in front of him. The man seemed tense, speaking quickly, and Orsen stilled to listen, glancing around as though to make sure he was really the intended target of his demands. The word professor, however, caught his attention, and he straightened with interest.

"Ah, yes," he replied, brow furrowing with curiosity. "I'll...professor? Not...not a Hogwarts professor? Right, okay, why don't you come with me right in here and I'll get Craven for you, okay? Just. Follow me." There were all sorts of places a person could be a professor, but only one that could inspire this sort of urgency. The air was practically electric with the feeling of something big about to happen. He gestured for the professor to follow, leading him back the way he'd just come into the Auror office. He wasn't sure if Craven was still about, but he'd just seen Ravensby working on the map with a few of the others, and regardless of who Ramsey was asking for, it was likely his Department Head would need to know about it. "Craven still in here?" he called out, craning to see if he could catch a glimpse of the man's grey blond hair over the tops of the cubicles. He led the professor straight to Ravensby at the front of the room regardless, leaning in to murmur,"Excuse me, ma'am. But this is Professor Ramsey here to see the Patrol Captain. I thought you might need to know."

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Rowan Drake
 Posted: Jul 16 2017, 04:27 PM
QUOTE     
Drakky is Offline
152
posts
51 years old

Senior Auror

London
Ministry


Weary day followed weary day and week bled into week, unnoticed. Rowan hardly knew he was living anymore; reports seemed to come in every other minute, his desk was cluttered with more stacks of parchment than it had seen in its entire existence (which was saying something), and various disparate members of the task force dashed past at odd moments in pursuit of Merlin only knew what, all set to the soothing sounds of Ravensby barking orders in the background. And that map - it dominated the entire front wall of the Auror Office and had consumed him totally. He spent hours on end copying and refining the sketches their scouts sent in from the very edges of the barrier, before carefully positioning them up on the wall and walking all the way down to the far end of the room to inspect the whole thing from a suitable distance. Slowly, inexorably, it was coming together – but Rowan had never been one to simply wait.

And so, he paid a visit to the meandering darkness of Knockturn Alley every three or four nights, to make sure that Maxwell Ramsey did not forget his obligations. But it wasn’t him who said those dark things, made those dark threats and tied the boy’s tongue with those dark words…was it? It was James, because the situation called for a being faintly feral, and Rowan could not be that. He’d splintered in so many different places that he no longer knew which one was real, could no longer remember who he’d been before the world had collapsed around the vacuum left by the death of Ashley Aasen. How many of him were there now? One for Max, and one for Ravensby…one for Orsen and Mateo both, one for Lance. And one for Castor…

Perhaps it was that one; the one filled with panic and desperation, wracked by horror, torn by unrelenting self-loathing. It would make perfect sense; hadn’t Rowan always gone to Castor in times of need? What was this if not the direst need he’d yet known? And Castor had been there, as he always was – confused, perhaps, but unquestioning and, most importantly, indifferent. If he did not care, he would not hurt; an important consideration when Rowan had shattered into nothing but edges. No matter what happened, no matter what he did, he would keep it contained within himself and it would not touch those he cared about. Castor’s indifference would protect him so that Rowan didn’t have to.

Ravensby, he knew, was similarly indifferent, so he could let himself be a little jagged around her. If she did notice the snap in his tone, or saw the tension he carried hidden in the hollows of his bones, it would not matter – she would not comment and she would not ask. At least, not so long as the sketches went up on the map and the scout reports were efficiently distilled down to the most pertinent snippets of information. This, after all, was what she’d called him back for, and he could understand; none of them were getting much respite, short-staffed as they were, and being one Auror down would have been an enormous disadvantage.

And so that day, like every other day, found him considering the map with great intensity, eyes darting across the few segments of the barrier they’d uncovered so far. “We need to increase the distance interval between mapped areas,” he remarked to Ravensby. “Or we’ll never get it done. We just want a rough idea of the shape and dimensions, right? So…” with one hand, he gestured at a depressingly empty section towards the west. “Perhaps we should cover some of that side.

He paused a moment, contemplating, and was about to continue when they were interrupted by Orsen…who’d brought company, it seemed. The name Ramsey set off approximately one thousand alarms in Rowan’s head, and a quick glance towards the other man confirmed what he’d immediately suspected. He stepped back, as though to make way for Ravensby, and leaned in to murmur so that only she could hear. “Elias Ramsey. Father of Maxwell Ramsey. Should be behind the barrier.

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Helios Craven
 Posted: Jul 19 2017, 01:50 AM
QUOTE     
Jaja is Offline
22
posts
51 years old

MLE Patrol

London
Ministry


Helios had just about reached the point when going somewhere that would pass for private in a workplace and banging his head on the wall repeatedly was seeming like a perfectly valid use of work hours. For a month they had been at it, and the progress felt minimal. The patchy circle-esque diagram that was filling out painstakingly slowly was not encouraging, and yet there was not a thing more any one of them could have been doing. For his part he'd taken the patrol down to skeleton crews as much as he could possibly get away with to send as many as possible up to track the perimeter. It would take but a moment for one of them to apparate up there to call colleagues back if really needed, but on the other hand the more people up there, the higher the possibility of being seen.

They hadn't completely given up on trying to get a message inside, but so far even their most accomplished charms and transfiguration experts hadn't cracked it. It had occurred to one smarter than him that surely rain was still penetrating, but as yet no one has found a way to effectively transfigure anything resembling a message into mere water and reconfigure t on the other side - it seemed, when they needed it the most, that they had found a limitation to magic. Eventually, part of him started to hope that a Professor would simply happen upon one of them as they went about their perimeter-tracing business, but as yet no such luck. The perimeter seemed to carefully be miles from the meagre civilizations of the village and castle, and after one fatality (for all they knew there were more) it was unlikely many of the denizens considered it a wise place to spend any time.

He'd snuck upstairs and outside for a smoke - no matter how long he considered himself successfully quit for, no matter how long he went without, in times of crisis his pipe (which, naturally, as a gift from Sheila and beautiful, he could not possibly give or throw away) stealthed its way back to his pocket. He could sense a mild kerfuffle in the Task Force offices, thought he heard his own name and sped his step. They were all bound by the Law of Sod - sit at your desk for five hours and crickets; pop out for a smoke and suddenly you're needed. He noted first Drake, Dunnet the Elder and Ravensby in conversation at the map - nothing abnormal - and then-

"Elias?" In a bark of surprise, abandoning his convivial east-end formality of surnames in his sheer surprise. No matter how many times one has been around the block, eventually getting the feeling of a caucus race, his job occasionally had the capacity to stun him, and for a split-second his old friend's appearance in the office in the five minutes he'd been gone did just that. He strode across the office to meet him, clasping his wrist in a brief imitation of a handshake, already speaking again before he reached him; "What's happened?" He boxed his approximately nineteen questions up in that; how are you here, why are you here, great scott is this finally over? And so on. Hope mingled with the relief to see Ramsey in one piece and here, although he knew it was too much to hope that the barrier had simply vanished, or that the Professors had somehow mounted such an assault as to bring it down all on their own (which would be fairly embarrassing for the Ministry, if one were to be frank) and if so why had Ramsey alone come visiting? He didn't look like a man who had recently had to battle his way through enemies and powerful magic unknown to reach them. Stressed, indubitably, and a man with a mission, but bore no signs of struggle. And yet, Helios was a pessimist by nature, only growing more so as he aged, like a bottle of cynical wine, and would await confirmation from the man himself before assuming this really did bode well for them. The memory of Ron Weasley's abrupt appearance in their halls came unbidden to his mind.

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Vanya Ravensby
 Posted: Jul 19 2017, 08:44 PM
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Cassandra is Offline
30
posts
68 years old

DMLE Head

Ministry of Magic
Ministry


The progress of the assembled barrier task force had been slow enough that Vanya was building an uneasy concern for her job. January had seen Hogwarts and Hogsmeade imprisoned, and since then not even the best of their experts had been able to crack the thing. With the information that Rowan had brought back to her a month ago, the information that had cost him and Aasen so dearly, at least part of that made sense. If they could not access the artefact within the barrier, there would be no way for them to dismantle it. The magical force keeping their children within was immense, and mapping without alerting those trapped within had come at a snail's pace. Something had to give. After this, the assassination, and Ron Weasley, Vanya was surprised no one had called for her head yet.

She stood by the maps with Rowan, her eyes hard and mouth turned down in a slight frown. "Now that we have this southern curve mostly determined, we'll need to see to the west or east, that's right. As soon as we know if this thing is circular or elliptical at the base of it, we should be able to determine the center." Raising her hand to rub at her temples had become something of a habit in the past few months. What a shame it was that she could not imprint solutions directly to her mind with her fingertips. If they could determine the center, she would feel more comfortable throwing the weight of her department at the barrier in hopes that they could reach it. They needed a goal in mind before decisive action was taken, or else they risked harm coming to the children and townsfolk who were hostages. There was no longer any doubt in Vanya's mind that hostages was what they were.

At the sound of Orsen Dunnet's voice, Vanya turned. The tall young man led behind him someone she faintly recognized, though she could not say from where. Her eyes narrowed in judgement and she gave the two of them a stern nod, her wand slipping into her hand easily. "You'll forgive us our caution, Professor. I'm certain you've heard that security has gone through some adjustments here at the Ministry." she stated, keeping her face straight at Rowan's murmured information. She would not give him away with an acknowledgement, but it was useful to know all the same.

Craven entered then, greeting the man with surprise and a clasp to the wrist. She wanted to know the answer to his question as well, but could not allow them to meet alone. There had been too much danger at the Ministry to allow an unknown time alone with one of her patrol officers before the visitor had been properly vetted. "Have a seat, Professor. Feel free to speak to Craven if you wish. Regretfully, you'll lack privacy. If it's absolutely required that your information is kept somewhat more secure, let me know and I will arrange something more suitable." Either way, she would be there. A Hogwarts professor strolling into her department with urgent news was far too important not to be heard.

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Elias Ramsey
 Posted: Jul 20 2017, 11:44 PM
QUOTE     
Merel is Offline
42
posts
46 years old

Ancient Runes

Hogwarts
Hogwarts Staff


Elias' request was quickly answered. The younger man didn't argue but did seem rather confused at his title of 'Professor'. It was exactly the reaction he had hoped for. Surprise. Confusion. If they weren't then that would raise some flags. He followed after the man, hands held behind his back. He stared straight ahead, trying to focus on only his surroundings, on the words he was going to say- and not on the words that tried to bore its way through his heart, Maxwell's last words. His attention had to be focused on business if he were going to keep Maxwell's involvement a secret. He couldn't be thinking about his son or the way he had felt about all that had happened between them.

The man stopped in front of two other people who were standing by a map. Elias' eyes flicked curiously across it but didn't have time to truly take anything in when the woman spoke and her wand appeared. It was understandable and all he could do was give a nod in acknowledgement. It wasn't long before the man he was here to see showed up. Finally. "Helios." He greeted the other man, grasping his wrist back with a slight nod. This really was it, the moment of truth.

The scrutiny that was placed upon him wasn't surprising. Everybody involved already was surprised. He was rather annoyed that so many people were already involved, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the information that he possessed. It was obvious just how much these officials wanted to know the answer as to why he was here. Elias did respect the offer of privacy, but it was too late for that. Sooner or later everyone else was going to hear what he had to say. It didn't matter as long as Helios was there, the one person he did trust. Though he did take up the offer of sitting down.

Having taken a seat he glanced around at the small group. There was something very serious and solemn about all this. "As you know I'm a Professor at Hogwarts. You also know I should be behind the barrier. I have a way to cross through. I'm here to let you know that I can cross through, there is a way. It's not easy." He told them quickly. Don't mention Maxwell, he told himself, Keep your damned promise. "The situation at Hogwarts is rather dire. Things are falling apart. We need help, and this barrier needs to break."

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Orsen Dunnet
 Posted: Yesterday at 05:11 pm
QUOTE     
Kris is Offline
40
posts
36 years old

Mis. of Muggle Artefacts

London
Ministry


Orsen tossed a hesitant smile in Rowan's direction, but otherwise remained silent, watching curiously as the Auror leaned in to murmur something brief to Ravensby. It made perfect sense that Rowan would possess some sort of insight into what was going on--it was part of his job description after all--but in combination with the endurance of his silence over the past few weeks, it left Orsen feeling a tad out of place. They hadn't spoken since Rowan's return, nothing beyond professional courtesies where Task Force work threw them together. He'd promised not to invade Rowan's space any further, and had already made his position clear, but still he was itching to say something more. There was a look that came over Rowan's eyes when his work got a grip on him, a look that Orsen felt he could understand in those moments his own projects pulled him in and everything else fell away, drowned out by the sound of a movie score swelling inside his head, but lately he wore that look all the time. He'd checked out, gone somewhere else where his tasks were never finished, and somehow Orsen didn't think he was invited to tag along.

He stepped back out of the way as Ravensby turned her sharp eyes on the professor, raising his hand to run a sheepish thumb across his lips as she drew her wand. Perhaps he should've thought to do the same--these were dangerous times, after all, and he didn't know Ramsey personally--but his greatest defense had always been his disarming attitude, and drawing a wand would only throw that off. Not the time for puns, Dunnet, he scolded himself. Craven strolled in a moment later, looking just as flabbergasted as a the rest of them, but at least Ramsey was talking now. Orsen chewed idly at his thumbnail as he listened, brow furrowing thoughtfully. It was no surprise there was a way through, Rowan had deduced as much already with his visit to...Ash, rest his soul. As far as they could tell, however, that access was limited to specific individuals; those persons who'd allied themselves with the barrier's generator. Unless there was an access point somewhere that they'd missed out on (and that seemed unlikely, considering how long they'd been poking and prodding at the barrier's perimeter) the idea of one person managing to sneak through without aid didn't make much sense. Still, the barrier had yielded more than a few surprises so far, and he decided to reserve his judgments for the time being.

"We're with you on that one, sir," he said, offering an apologetic grin in the next moment. It wasn't really his place to interrupt.

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Rowan Drake
 Posted: Today at 06:19 am
QUOTE     
Drakky is Offline
152
posts
51 years old

Senior Auror

London
Ministry


Rowan shifted further into the background as the conversation progressed, stepping away from Ramsey and his congregation of attentive listeners and turning back to the sweeping vista of the map. That he should show up, of all the professors Hogwarts had to offer, was an intriguing coincidence - it didn’t look like Max was connected, at this point, but the entire situation had surprised them so many times that Rowan preferred to take nothing for granted. It would be best if the elder Ramsey didn’t have much cause to pay him any attention – his dealings with the man’s son were not quite what could be termed proper professional conduct, so the less he got tangled up with that family, the better.

Still, he observed, keeping an eye and an ear on the conversation as he repositioned bits of parchment and made quick, messy notes at various points of interest; Ravensby wouldn’t be able to read them, probably, but that didn’t matter so long as he could. Besides, she barely ever paid attention to what he said, let alone what he wrote. At the moment, that suited him just fine – he couldn’t have slipped beneath her radar to visit with Max if she’d made a habit of watching him more closely. And on that note, it seemed that another visit was somewhat overdue – perhaps Max would know why his father had suddenly turned up on the wrong side of the barrier.

Most of the proceedings so far did not particularly interest him. Craven and Ramsey were around the same age, he supposed, and may have known each other at Hogwarts – that would explain their familiarity – but it was an irrelevance. Whatever Ramsey had to say would be said to the Head of the DMLE, as was proper, and the rest of them could hang around to listen in at Ravensby’s discretion. The man had not yet convinced him, and he kept him very firmly in his peripheral vision. Of course there was a way to get through the barrier, one which the wolf apparently utilised with impunity – what guarantee did they have that this professor wasn’t some sort of trap? Maxwell’s allegiance was already known to be extremely questionable, and his connection to Undine was strong enough that Rowan entertained a healthy suspicion even of his father. He could practically smell the wolf’s fingers all over this apparent escape.

The others, however, did not seem to share his misgivings; Craven was obviously completely taken in by the appearance of an old friend, and Orsen – bless him – was too hopeful for a solution to consider the less appealing aspects of this development. The back of Ravensby’s head wasn’t particularly informative with regards to her opinion, but then he didn’t think the front would have been much better. There was no way for him to voice his suspicions without revealing his contact with Max, so he remained reluctantly silent – if Ravensby had to find out about that, he’d prefer it not to be in full view of half the Ministry, more for the sake of her reputation than for his. Still, he did hope that none of them would be indiscrete enough to reveal what they knew regarding the nature of the barrier – at least, not until they’d vetted Ramsey properly.

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