Heist is Such an Ugly Word

Jack was back, and she wasn’t pleased.

Something about the New Year had reawakened something inside of her, and she was itching to explore it. During her stay at Eis Estate, she had read the papers with glazed eyes and empty thoughts – before she had stopped reading them altogether. Now she poured over the pages and was back to ranting and raving about the asinine things occurring in the Ministry. At Eis, the radio had never switched from Christmas music. Now it was back on the underground channels, reporting the news the Ministry never would. And during Eis, she had been quiet and polite. Now she barreled down Diagon, stopping off at the houses of those she considered her contacts, gathering and collecting information like a woman with a mission.

She hadn’t had a mission, really. It was all just… need to know information. It was hard for her being out of the loop. Her mind could only stay on Quidditch for so long, and numbers from Weasley’s was feeling more and more like a distraction rather than part of her livelihood. She had thought of calling a meeting of the Order, but she had begun to give up hope in them, with her underground network being so much more effective than the group she was supposedly leading – poppycock, all of it. Everything was keeping her mind from a solution. She had to find one.

And then one day, she found it.

It wouldn’t cure everything, of course. In fact, it would not do much but help her prepare personally. The profit would only be a brief disruption in the Ministry and a whole lot of new information for her to process. But it solved the itch inside of her. Jack could not stay idle while the world around her burned, and if she wasn’t going to do anything about it, she might as well surrender to the stupid law and become the baby-making housewife the Ministry had hoped to turn her into. There was thought. Perhaps this wasn’t just a population thing. Perhaps it was about making the population more docile and domestic. If so, it was destined to fail. Didn’t they know that Jack Dyllan didn’t stay docile for long?

She could have done it alone. Normally, she would have. But there was someone in her home that she did not give enough credit. Someone who was often left to tasks anyone could handle while she went off trying to save the world. Someone who she wanted to include more. And someone who could very well make this whole process a lot easier and a lot more likely to succeed. And someone who might like to know a thing or two about what was coming to him.

Jack knocked on Max’s bedroom door, before peeking her head in. “Hey Max? Could I ask you for a favor?”


The very next day, Jack and Max walked quickly through the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. She knew Max was not particularly pleased, but she had given him a task that, while important, would have absolutely no repercussions on himself. She had given him his excuse, and in his arms was a nice box, full of ottoman puppies. She had done the spell herself and already had a nice home lined up for them, but it gave Max a reason to go to the Minister’s office and keep watch for her. Everyone knew the Lupins had their own litter of the creatures, so naturally it would interest anyone in the Muggle Relations Department that an unrelated litter had cropped up.

Jack knew for a fact that Robert was never in on Tuesday afternoons – he had scheduled tea – and Jack had been told by one of her leftover contacts that afternoons were largely spent at Hogwarts for Ana, so it was the perfect time for a minor heist. Max could go in and chat with the secretaries, the last line of defense, while Jack wandered off into Ana Levski’s office, to accidentally peruse the files of Jack and Charlie Dyllan, as well as Max and Maisie Morrison. And if she accidentally made copies of said files and dropped them into her bag, then what harm was really done, but acquired knowledge?

They stepped into the lift and Jack grimaced up at Max. “You’re a saint, you know.”

Max was not overly thrilled about the favor that Jack had requested of him, though he had agreed without complain because it was one of the first things that she had ever asked of him. And though he was still hurt by the number of things that he couldn't help her with, a minor break-in to the Ministry could be a tangible victory for the pair. As much as Max adored the Ministry and considered it somewhat of a second home, he was in more need of accomplishing something.

Max still wasn't quite sure why Jack was so intent on getting their family's forms. She had already been matched, Max had been told early by his, and Charlie had already gotten her first summons. The only information they were really getting was Charlie's (promised, but not guaranteed, second match) and Maisie's. This seemed like an awful risk to be taking for a few scraps of paper but the redhead had become determined to take action and Max wasn't going to be the one to stand in her way.

"I know."

The pair stood in the lift, Max's arms stretched around a box full of puppies. The purpose of the little dogs was still in question to Max, though he was sure Jack had explained it to him before. Of course this whole mission made little sense to the curly-haired man and he still wasn't entirely sure why the more-than-capable Jack Dyllan needed his help.

"So I just have to stand watch?" Max asked for what was probably the hundredth time. "Nothing else?" Though the little job wasn't the most impressive in the world he wouldn't have expected anything bigger. Coming from Hufflepuff, honestly was engrained in his bones and he had become quite the terrible liar, making any deception of Ministry workers problematic. He also wasn't the sneakiest guy around and often bumped into furniture upon passing it. Overall, Max Morrison had not been built for crime or stealth.

Just standing guard with puppies was probably the most sensible job for him.

The doors closed and Jack was briefly reminded of her Ministry days – the days when she had gotten into a lift every day. She had always been a rush, she remembered. There had always been some fire that required her attention to be put out – and literally on several occasions. Though she had hated paperwork with a fiery passion, she had enjoyed the never ending workload, as stupid and ignorant as that sounded. The constant stream of work had ensured that she never got bored or lazy. She really had been too young for her job –she should have been out getting her heart broken and getting too drunk too function but she had managed well.

Besides, she had managed to do those things too. Look at her, being a right little multitasker.

Max spoke, rousing Jack from her memories just in time – that was what Max always seemed to be. Just in time. She grinned a wry smile and nodded. “Yep. Just be your usual pleasant self. I’ll do the talking to start you off, then pop off to go see if a friend’s in. Make pleasant talk, and if you see Ana Levski or Robert Lupin coming, let the pups out. They’ll yip and yap up a storm and I’ll be able to get out of there in time to look more casual.” She shifted her small knapsack, which was not all conspicuous since she always seemed to have it on her.

The lift began to shudder to a stop and Jack looked over at Max. “It’ll be fine. And even if it isn’t, you won’t get in any trouble. And Azkaban’s not scary once you’ve been there once or twice, so no worries about me.” She smiled as though she were not speaking from experience, when most people in their society knew otherwise.

The lift opened and Jack gave him a gentle push to get him moving. She followed right at his shoulder, turning towards the secretary’s desk. As they approached, Jack realized she recognized the secretary. “Lucille! Long time no see.” Lucille lifted an eyebrow as she regarded her – Jack’s trips up to the Minister’s Office had usually been for disciplinary reasons, usually to do with misbehaviors and pranks with Nemo. “Hey, my friend Max needed to talk to Robert about some ottoman puppies- just like Robert’s, isn’t that nuts?”

Lucille sighed. “Robert’s not in.”

Jack gave her an exasperated look. “Bugger. Of course. Well, hey, I’m going to go see if Michael Tremaine is skulking about – he usually is. Max, could you wait for me, then I’ll take the pups off your hands and we can go to lunch.” And with that, she scampered down the hallway.


Claire needed to drop off some very important memos to the Minister’s office on some incredibly dangerous criminals – you know, the boring work. She was well known in the office, because a lot of her work was so sensitive that it either required Ministerial permission or supervision in some aspect. Some of her tasks came straight from upstairs, and was time sensitive. Considering the information she handled, she never trusted flying it up in a memo or handing it off to an intern. So she made two daily trips upstairs before lunch and right before she clocked out for the day.

Today, however, was different. She could tell because as she approached the secretary’s desk where she typically dropped off all of her work, she saw a familiar figure. How strange – this man had not been remotely tied to her life at all until she had opened his file. Since then, she had seen him twice. The first had been painfully awkward, if not of the upmost importance. His sudden presence in the upstairs office was curious – she had never seen him up here before. And she was up here often. Evidently.

She dropped her files on the desk. “Maximus Morrison,” was all she said by means of greeting. “I haven’t seen you up here before. How are you?”

Max stood rigidly by the door, his eyes flickering about in a slightly nervous way. Only the secretary was near him and she was busy enough with paperwork (or painting her nails - Max wasn't sure) that she had failed to notice his twitchiness. The puppies in his arms wiggled uncomfortably and he shifting his wait from foot to foot, hoping that Jack was collecting information fast. Just as he was doing his fifteenth scan of the visible room a new figure entered the picture, calling his name in greeting.

Shit.

Max moved closer to Claire, only slightly glad that he had found someone to talk to that would distract him and take his mind off of the job he had. It wasn't the most responsible thing to do when he was on a mission but it wasn't like he could just ignore her. She had called him by name! He gave her a smile, trying to make it look as natural as possible while only succeeding in looking tortured. "I'm good. Just, um, delivering these puppies." He glanced awkwardly around again. "How're you?"

Jack found Ana’s office quickly. She had been only once before, and it had been for that hellish meeting in which she had met her husband-to-be. Poor Carth. He had never stood a chance. She was now regretting her outlandish get up that day, because she realized someone who had seen it would recognize her immediately. Luckily, she moved quickly and soon found herself picking the lock muggle style (people rarely defended against such an outdated way of breaking in) and slipping inside the office.

The filing cabinets were large and unlocked. Jack wasted no time in dropping the blinds and stepping across the room to approach the filing cabinet. They were not locked – it seemed Ms Levski doubted anyone would ever get beyond her door unwelcomed, so there was no need to lock away the files. Fortunate for Jack, of course.

She opened the middle drawer, deciding to start with the Morrisons, as Max was risking more for her sake anyway. She located his file, and his sister’s was right in front of his. She quickly withdrew them and tapped each with her wand, making duplicates. She placed the originals back in their place and stuffed the copies into her bag. She closed the middle drawer and pulled out the top one, searching the names. A… B…. C…. D…. Dolohov… Donnovan… Du Hunt… Hmm, tempting. But she had a mission she needed to stick to.


“Puppies?” Claire raised an eyebrow – it was becoming a habit when she was in the presence of Maximus Morrison. For someone who seemed so uncomplicated, he was certainly a very strange man. He was not strange in the way that people like Fred Weasley and Jack Dyllan were strange – those people who had never been anything but strange and had long embraced it and grown into it, transforming it into a lifestyle of eccentricities and loud behavior. He seemed to be someone who had recently had strangeness thrust upon him, and had not yet realized just how weird he had become.

“Well, I’m glad to see it’s only official business to bring you up here,” she said, her mouth twitching into the smile she gave while working - which wasn’t really a smile, if you were wondering. “I’m fine. Just making my daily rounds of delivering the information that keeps the world going ‘round. ‘Course, I’m lying – it’s mostly boring memos and paperwork that will probably be returned to me when the higher-ups get bored with it.”

“I’m telling Mr Krum,” Lucille said in a bored tone, not looking up from her nails.

“Please do, maybe it’ll convince him to sign my warrants,” Claire said. She sighed. “Are you on duty today? You’re not in your work robes. I thought you’d want to be official while doing official puppy delivery.”

Max laughed awkwardly at the expression on her face, trying with every fiber of his being not to be acting so completely strange. He felt sure that his true purpose for lingering about the Ministry was plastered across his face and as a result tried to recall every spy movie he had ever watched. In an attempt to channel his inner James Bond, Max evened out his expression into something less nervous as he kept his gaze on Claire. "No, no. I've got today off. Puppies are a, err, personal business."

There was an awkward silence and Max shifted his weight from foot to foot. He liked Claire well enough from their meeting at the house and had in fact hoped to talk to her again soon but she had caught him at a terrible time. The stress of being in the Ministry for reasons other than his job was more than enough to distract him from having a real conversation with her. While he was comfortable enough in her company, Claire was not exactly the person he wanted to be having small talk with. After her grand entrance at Layabout he felt weird expecting anything less than professional every time they met.

"Actually I was going to come see you when I got back to work. I was wondering how.." he glanced over at Lucille the receptionist and then back at Claire "everything was going." Well, now was as good of a time as any to have that conversation. Check it off the list and give him more time on that tea kettle case he had just received. The idea of work relaxed Max from what he was actually doing and the jitters began to slowly fade away. He was bouncing a little less, though the quiet barking of his puppies kept him grounded in the larger task.

Claire glanced at Lucille, following Max's gaze, and it was this that made her realize what was making him uncomfortable. Of course. He assumed they were going through illegal means to avoid the marriage law. Now, Claire was not one to do anything illegal. Of course, she had drank underage and whatnot, but she had never done anything of real caliber that was against the law. It would be incredibly counterproductive to her very occupation if she was going to go around breaking the laws she was obligated to enforce.

"Lucille's not a gossip, and there's no gossip in that conversation at all," Claire said. "I've done my paperwork best I could. I was pretty much told that for now I will not be obligated to the law, but as soon as the last of my paperwork goes in for my work visa, I will be married to a British citizen. I think, by then, I'll have enough proof from my employer back home that I am expected to resume normal duties and cannot be tied down in another country, so it should be okay. I'd love some extra time to be able to do my research, however. So, if you have found absolutely anyone... I'd highly suggest it for you. There's really only two routes if you're not marrying who you were assigned to, and that's either you choose your own spouse or you choose your Azkaban cell." She smiled. "Kidding. They don't let you choose your own cell."

And people said she didn't have a sense of humor. (For obvious reasons.)


Jack found Charlie's papers first, and she quickly took them out, pointing her wand at the papers and copying each sheet, before stuffing them all into her bag. She glanced at the door. One last file. Her luck dictated that it would be now that someone walked in. Still, she had not heard the noises of barking or scuffling, and she did not think Max would miss alerting her. She quickly went for her own file, unable to keep her eyes from wandering as she copied the sheets.

Claire suggested eloping again and this time Max avoided all shock or stuttering. He gave her a smile and nod instead, acknowledging her dry humor. "Well, we'll see. I'm still.. scoping out my options." Max shrugged his arms, readjusting the puppy box for comfort. "I've got a friend who I might talk to about it. He's just about as interested in getting married as I am so maybe that'll, I don't know, work?" Max felt surprisingly awkward saying it, not because he was proposing the idea of marriage to Gabby, but rather because he had not thought of his friend at all after Claire's first visit.

Her mistake surrounding Jack and him had stuck in his mind like a terrible virus, first to be rejected and then slowly thought over. The idea of Jack being his girlfriend still managed to strike fear in his heart but the idea of marrying her wasn't half bad. They already lived together and as far as Max was aware neither was planning on moving out any time soon. He had come to realize that a marriage (just on paper) really would save them like Claire was promising it would. The idea was so simple and so perfect and yet so utterly terrifying.

Terrifying enough to make him unable to voice his thoughts. To make him blurt out he was thinking of marrying Gabby. He wasn't even gay.

Claire lifted an eyebrow. So she had been on to something when she had briefly suggested boyfriend. All right - well, that did explain his odd reaction to accidentally being paired with the other woman. She wondered briefly if that's why he and Dyllan had ever roomed - she had heard gossip about the woman, and there were more than a few theories that the woman surrounded herself with attractive men that she never dated because she was not attracted to men. That would explain quite a bit, she supposed.

"Well," she said, speaking briskly to make up for lost time. "Whatever works best for you. This law isn't going to last forever, my bosses must know that, but for the time being, it is here. The threat is very real. They can force you out of your home, they can force you to provide proof of the marriage, and they can throw you in Azkaban. Please be wary." She forced a small smile. "Sorry I seem so mechanical about this problem, but I am very keen to avoid troubles and to avoid marriage."


Jack had gotten the last of the files and had stowed away the last. Her own file had somehow been slightly scrambled - Jack really could not help it - and she quickly checked her backpack. She had two Dyllan files and four Morrison files - perfect. She shouldered the backpack and did a quick sweep. Everything looked as she had found it. Wow. She was actually going to get away with this, wasn't she?

She quickly left the office, closing the door behind her carefully. She wiped a smile from her face, a smile that had crept onto her face - come on, Dyllan, you're not an amateur. She quickly resumed her somber expression and strode down the hall with purpose. She could not wait to see the look on Max's face when she came around the corner and-

She came around the corner and her steps faltered. There was Claire Bishop, casually speaking with Max. Had they just waited for her to be out of sight to resume this new found best-friendship or - oh, stop it. There was no reason to be grumpy. And yet, grumpy she was. She quickly resumed her stride, hoping neither had noticed. "Hello again," Jack said, attempting what was supposed to be a civil, causal voice. She glanced between them. "I'm glad to see you two are getting on so well." Lol no.

"It's nice to see you again, Jack," Claire said. "And yes. Desperate times often forge comfortable alliances." She smiled lightly.

Jack swallowed. "Yes. Well. Er, Max, I checked in with my friend. He wasn't in, so we can, er, head out. It was nice seeing you, Claire."

"It was nice-" but Jack was already hurrying for the lifts. Claire raised an eyebrow. "Busy woman."

Jack reappeared and Max's tension dropped slightly. What could have possibly taken her so long? Before Max could greet her she had stepped forward and started talking. But that tone - what was it? Max had never heard Jack sound quite that strange before. Even at Eis when she had been horribly good-natured it wasn't like this forced civility. When had Jack ever willingly been civil to anyone?

And she was off towards the lifts again, Max in hot pursuit, barely having time to call a goodbye over his shoulder. Whatever her reasons there was no way Jack was going to leave him in the middle of the Ministry about she had robbed the Minister's office. The doors on the lift slid shut with a ding and Max looked over at his companion. He really wanted to ask about their sudden departure but decided better of it and instead asked the other urgent question. "Got it?"

Max glanced down at his puppy box, counting the furry creatures the best he could to try and keep track of them. He could assume if there weren't any running guards or sirens that Jack had been successful in her mission. But then again, Max's experience with heists was mostly from spy movies. Ministry officials could be on their tail at this very moment and he would have no idea. Mostly, Max wanted to go home. The thought of their living room seemed like the most comforting thing in the world and he hoped whatever Jack had gathered was worth what damage had been done to his nerves.

Claire's last thoughts echoed in his mind but he dismissed them, instead pondering on the redhead. I'm glad to see you two are getting on so well. What was that supposed to mean? If he didn't value his life so much, maybe he would have asked her.