InsaneJournal

Ted had to admit that he was in a pretty cheerful mood. He felt useful, at least, which was more than he could say for the last few months. But then again, he did have a family to look after and a living to make somehow-- excuses he knew, but still. It didn't matter so much, for tonight he was able to help the Order with a few things. He'd been paired up with Peter Pettigrew-- unfortunately, Ted couldn't say that he knew the younger man very well, except that he was one of Sirius' best friends.

They were in a small wizarding neighborhood; one that Ted wasn't entirely familiar with, but he'd had no complaints as they set up their things and began distribution for the evening. The people seemed friendly, and Ted had even offered to return to help with a pregnant cat and a few other animals. They'd been there for about an hour, and there was a slight lull in activity-

"I'm going to pop into the shop there for a fizzy drink," he said to Peter, closing up a now-empty box. "Would you like anything?"

This all felt so horribly rote to Peter. It wasn't that he didn't want to help. He did. But there was something extremely unfulfilling about handing out stolen property to people that it would only help for a temporary time anyway. It wasn't a long time solution. It was trying to fix a gapping hole in the side of a sinking ship with bubble gum and bailing wire. It might keep the ship afloat a little longer, but in the end, it was still going to end up completely submerged.

But he had put on his best smile, manufactured all of the positive emotion that he had needed to push himself through these tasks until they had managed to get through the bulk of the individuals that had needed the assistance. Glancing up at Ted's question, Peter stared at him for a minute with a slightly dulled expression in his eyes that he had whenever he was contemplating something far more than he should need to. It was the look that often made people think that there was nothing going on in his head when in fact the exact opposite was true.

"I appreciate the offer," Peter said finally after a rather long stretch of silence. "But I'd really rather not. You go ahead. I'll make sure nobody knicks what's left of our honestly stolen property."

Ted sobered slightly as Peter stared at him- okay, so that was a little uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hand moving up to the back of his neck for a moment and relaxing a little when Peter finally answered. "I- alright. I won't be long." He nudge the empty box aside with his foot and shoved his hands into his pockets before turning to cross the street.

He knew the items had been stolen, but- well, he hadn't thought about it so much in that context. They were things that people needed, so far as he was able to tell at least. Oh well. The people they were distributing to seemed to appreciate it. He reached the shop in just a few moments, finding a drink and crossing back to the register to pay for it before heading back to Peter.

Peter didn't know Ted well. Actually, that was an understatement. He didn't know him at all aside from the very vague details that he knew and the occasional association from a distance. He didn't mind the pairing in the least, but the fact of the matter was that any association outside of doing what they had been sent here to do was going to be difficult to accomplish. Peter had been having a hard time even relating to his best friends lately because of all of the thoughts swirling around in his head and occupying his attention.

In fact, by the time that Ted had returned, Peter's attention had turned out and away from the area in front of him, his eyes locked on the skyline and thoughts tumbling through his mind as he tried to sort out whether or not they truly were fighting a futile uphill battle. It was uphill, certainly. That much was obvious to Peter. The Death Eaters had the Ministry. They had the influence. They had the power, and that was what made and broke a movement, holding power or lacking it. Grassroots were all well and good, but when they were in the position to be squished by one well placed blow....

Was it truly futile? Would it end at an inevitable roadblock, that well placed blow that would knock them back into nothingness, either through intimidation or through a much more bloody solution? Or did they actually have a chance? Every little bit helps. That's what his mother always used to say. Every little bit helps.

But it doesn't revolutions make.

Ted hummed softly to himself as he sipped on his soda, his mind wandering just slightly as he reached Peter and their things. He paused, considering what they'd done, and took one more look around to see if it looked like anybody else was coming. It didn't seem like they had too much left, and he began to stack empty boxes.

"Do you think we should wrap this up soon?" he asked, looking back to Peter and realizing (belatedly) that Peter might not have heard him in the first place, as lost in his thoughts as he seemed to be.

Peter heard words. That was better than he could expected in most situations. Turning his attention back to Ted, Peter blinked a couple times before having the presence of mind to look abashed. "Sorry," Peter said as he took in what Ted was doing and stood to help him start packing things up.

"We can probably leave soon. It doesn't seem like anyone else is showing up," Peter said as he glanced at Ted over a box. "And the longer we linger, the worse off we might end up."

"No need to apologize," Ted replied with a friendly smile. He took another sip of his soda and then set it on a window ledge nearby before moving to shrink some of the boxes still full of goods. "And you're right- best not to linger. This shouldn't take long, though, and I can take it all back to the safehouse or something so you don't have to worry about it."

It had been a rather long day for Capper and little did he know that it was about to get quite a bit longer. He disliked evenings when he had patrol - oh, he understood the reasons for them of course, but he should have much preferred to spend them with a bit of brandy and some research rather than out roaming the streets like a common law enforcement officer. The day would be none too soon when the new government finally got organized enough that it could allow those most highly ranked the privilege of - well, enjoying their privilege.

It had been only thirty minutes into his patrol when he'd ran into a group of witches who were blathering on about potion supplies. He's stopped them and questioned them, using a charming voice - he had been a bit of a ladies man in his younger years - and discovered that the ingredients had been given to the women for free. Normally Capper would have alerted the DMLE and brought the women in for further questioning, but as the women made it sound as if they'd just picked up the items, and he was more interested in capturing the culprits than the victims of the scheme, he told them to go on their way, adding with a charming smile that they should not be on the streets alone in the evening. There were still people who meant ill will out and around.

So, he changed direction, moving to the location the witches had indicated, down a street he never spent much time on. Sure enough, as the women had indicated there was a booth set up looking for all the world like a booth one might set up at a circus, or something equally juvenile. However, his spider sense told him that this was not a circus (not that he would have been very amused had it been one) but rather something problematic. This was clearly where the women had gotten their materials.

"Halt," Capper's voice rang clearly through the quiet street, his hand reaching for his wand, he was weary of vagrants and low-lifes. "What is the meaning of this?"

Peter looked up at the voice, blinking slightly at the wand that was aimed at him before glancing over at Ted and turning his attention down to their empty boxes. Well, this was a situation and a half if he'd ever seen one. "In fer a shillin' and out fer a pound, mate," Peter offered, smirking and thickening his accent, making it sound as rough as he possibly could. "Just packin' up fer the night. Ben a g'day's work. C'n't deny a c'ple of 'ard workin' men an honest day's pay, canye?"

Just have to make it sound believable. Too much detail could kill a bluff just as easily as not enough. Hopefully, this guy wasn't a questions type.

Capper did not lower his wand, and instead advanced further, his eyes narrowing, uncertain if he should let the men know that he knew what was up. "What type of material are you selling," he left a light emphasis on the word. These men were not selling - if they were, where was the moneybox? "Do you have a permit? Let me see your ID cards," he demanded.

He would simply take them into the DMLE and allow the Ministry to sort this out, he thought. There was something strange about people giving away things for free, and he most certainly was not going to allow them to walk away without being thoroughly questioned by someone's who job it was to actually interrogate low-life vagrants.

Ted blinked when he heard the voice, stacking the last box and reaching for his soda as Peter replied. How to behave? He briefly considered pretending to be mute, but quickly decided that would probably be a Bad Idea. He nodded his agreement to Peter's words and then set his soda back where it was, patting his pockets and pretending to look for his ID.

"Aye, we 'ad a permit," he started, frowning after a moment. "Bloody 'ell, the blighter must ha' knicked it from me trousers!" He shoved his hands in his pockets, pulling out scraps of paper and lint and- oh, a little plastic toy!- as he looked for what the man was asking for. "Sorry, sir, but I don't know where it's gone off to."

Idiots, was Capper's only thought, as he gathered every scrap of patience he had, despite wanting to Imperio the fools into giving him what he wanted. "Your IDs then?" He said in what was, he was certain, a very patient voice, but in reality sounded stretched and a bit irritated.

"If'en ye wait a sec, gov, we'll have 'em for ye in a jiff," Peter said, pushing the empty boxes into the pile with Ted's before giving the other man a significant look. This wasn't a situation that they were going to be able to talk their way out of. No, the man in front of them had the air of a stubborn bastard who would just as happily kill them even if they were able to prove that they were out of here for the right reason.

Pulling back the top pocket of his jacket, Peter reached in and instead of producing his ID card, produced his wand, firing off a flare of light in hopes that he'd blind the offender before grabbing Ted's arm and pulling him to put some distance between the two of them and the Death Eater enforcer.

They didn't have enough left to be worried about. The boxes were a nonconcern except for the fact that they would serve as, at least, a temporary barrier.

Well. That certainly was unexpected. Ted turned with Peter to start down the street, tugging him down a side street a little ways down. He pulled his arm back after a moment to find his own wand, knowing that they would probably need it in a few, if only to apparate out of here. He slowed just slightly after a moment, glancing over his shoulder and tripping over an empty rubbish bin, landing on the ground with a grunt before scrambling back up to his feet.

If Capper had been a lower class gentleman, he would have swore. As it was he simply moved, pointing his wand (now at their backs) he cast first "Levicorpus!" followed quickly by a "Stupefy," at the other. If they Apparated out of here, it was not going to be good. He should have told them to reach for their IDs slowly. This was why he was not in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, wasn't it then?

Feeling the spell hit him dead in the center of his back, Peter stumbled as his awareness blacked out. He tried to get his footing but found it impossible as his body crumpled into a pile onto the ground, knees buckling under him and leaving him a helpless, unconscious pile in the middle of the street.

Ted gasped as he found himself lifted into the air, and he struggled a bit, trying to see what was going on. His eyes widened as he saw Peter on the ground, and he turned as best he could, looking to shoot a tripping jinx back at the other man, hoping to distract him for a few moments.

The spell did hit Capper, and he lost his balance. Regaining his footing as quickly as possible he turned his wand to the man on the ground - boy, really, he thought as an aside - "Imperio," Capper cast almost under his breath. The stunned man was an easy enough target.

He stepped towards them both now, his thoughts on the one hanging in the air who seemed interested in sending childish jinxes his way. He cast the counter to levicorpus with a smirk that could have almost been called childish as well.

Ted gasped in surprise as he was freed, and he felt himself begin to fall. His hands came up, hoping to catch himself, but he landed in a heap, knocking his head one something-- a very hard something, and his vision grew dark as he passed out.

Peter felt the jerk of his body sitting upright on it's own, jarring consciousness back into him. Not that it did any good. His muscles were frozen, rigid, as they wanted for whatever commands would come. A quiet panic washed over him as he tried to force his body to obey, but his mind swam instead with questions, ponderings, not quiet understanding why it was trying to force him to move when there was someone else there ready and willing to give instructions.

Peter couldn't even manage a whimper of distress.

Capper cast the counter curse to the stunning spell, and gave the man in front of him a slow smirk. Now they would get to the bottom of this entire mess and they would do so painlessly, and relatively simply. "If you have an ID card," he suggested simply, "you will pull that out right now and give it to me. Whether or not you have an ID card, you will give me your wand." The commands were spoken in a silky voice, without a hint of menace in it.

No. No, no, no, no, no. Peter's mind was trying to resist, but his body was moving of its own volition as it withdrew his ID from the same pocket that his wand had been in before turning back and picking up the discarded piece of reed wood and handing them both over to the Death Eater enforcer without so much as a hint of hesitation. This was it. This was the end of him. Ted was knocked out. Neither of them had been able to send off a distress signal to anyone. And that man had his wand. There was nothing that he could do now.

He was going to die.

Capper took the ID card and the wand, and looked over the card. Peter Pettigrew. He recognised the name he thought - or at least, he recognized the last name. He looked over the wand and measured it up and then eyed the man in front of him. "You're going to come with me," he said finally.

He gave a glance to the other man, but he seemed to be knocked out cold, and Capper wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with two individuals who probably weren't actually anyone that interesting. This one at least seemed to have valid ID. They were probably just street urchins - well perhaps not street urchins considering that usually those were younger in years, but vagrants none the less.

"Let's go," he said pointing his wand at Pettigrew. He'd take this one back and figure out what to do with him then.