Chapter 29:
Don't Mess with the Brunette Witches
May 5, 1986
"I wish I were going with you," Sirius said as he watched his wife pack up her satchel just before dawn.
"Would you feel comfortable leaving the children without either of us in the country for the day?" Anwen asked him before she went back to loading her work files into the bag.
"No, but you and Alice are –"
"If you hope to have sex at all in the coming week, I'd be careful how you end that sentence, Sirius." He chose not to finish his sentence. "Good choice. Look, I know you and Frank are unhappy that Alice and I will do this interview, but every male interviewer they've sent in has come back out without a lick of information. She's a Veela. What better way than to throw her off her game than sending in two diminutive, average-looking witches who are also exceedingly powerful?"
"You just said it; you and Alice are diminutive."
"Yes, I did. Because of that, everyone underestimates us. Alice and I know more about what this Isabeau has gotten up to in the UK than anyone. If we want to start finding out what the hell is going on, we need to do this interview. You need to go over and press the Horcrux team for some idea of what we're to do about Harry."
"I still think I should be with you," Sirius said as he sat on the edge of Anwen's desk and pulled her between his legs. "I don't know how I'd live if I lost you."
"Sirius, I will be home for supper," she said softly. "Nothing is going to happen to me, and Amelia is sending us with a bodyguard of sorts; Kingsley is going along to watch our interrogation." Sirius leaned down and kissed his wife.
"Tell King I'll hold him personally responsible if you come home with a scratch on you."
"Sirius, don't be overprotective. I need to go; we have a scheduled Portkey to the Bulgarian Ministry in eighteen minutes, and there are a few files I need from my work desk." Anwen walked out of the library and toward the Floo fireplace in the entranceway.
"Be careful, please."
"I always am," she said before standing on her tiptoes to meet him in another kiss. "Kiss the children good morning for me and tell them I want to hear about their days when I arrive back." With that, Anwen flung the Floo powder into the Floo and took off for the Ministry.
"I was worried I would need to come and get you," Alice said when she met her friend at their desks. "How overbearing was he this morning?"
"Terribly," Anwen answered, grabbing the pile of files from her desk. "He still thinks I'm some precious little first year that needs him to protect me. He seems to forget that he hasn't bested me in a duel in over three years. I love my husband, but honestly…men. How was Frank?"
"Wanting to come along and grateful that Kingsley was going with us."
"King is only going to be in the outer waiting area, watching the interview. He's going to have nothing to do with this witch," Anwen said with a touch of disgust.
"Welcome to patriarchy in the Ministry at its best. Why did we pick these horrible boxy dresses again?" Alice asked. The dresses were wretched dropped-waist things with frilly collars that were embroidered with delicate flowers. They wore ugly lace-up black shoes with them. The outfits were wholly unlike the women's usual pleated trousers and warm jumpers; not the most cutting edge in fashion, but practical when running after children.
"To make her feel superior as a woman and Veela. It's all part of my plan to get her off balance," Anwen explained. "Apparently, she wants them to keep sending men in for the interviews, so she can tie them up in knots. We look in antithesis to her, so she'll discount how very sly and intimidating we can be. That we happen to be married to two of the most handsome men in all of Wizarding Britain is beside the point."
"You can say that again, cousin," Alice agreed.
"Well, don't you two make an attractive pair," Kingsley said facetiously as they met in the Department of Magical Transportation. "What happened to you?" He took in the dresses, lack of make-up, and their hair pulled back into severe buns and was underwhelmed.
"Not quite a disguise," Alice said. "But Anwen figures if we go in looking rather mousy, we might lull Isabeau into a false sense of security. Then we go for the jugular."
"Glad I'm on your good side."
"So true," Anwen deadpanned, and the trio laughed.
The trio landed in the Bulgarian Ministry well; all three managed to stay upright and, thankfully, without nausea on Alice's part. She hated long-distance Portkeys. They presented their passports and were greeted by one of their counterparts from Bulgaria. Iliana Ivanov was a tall woman with grey hair and piercing eyes. She'd been on the job as an Auror for over fifty years, had done battle with Grindelwald's forces and with Tom's. She now oversaw the Bulgarian Auror training program. She had been seeing to the witch, Isabeau, since she was brought in; however, as it appeared, the older woman unnerved the young Veela.
"Greetings," Auror Ivanov said kindly, and the three UK Aurors formally introduced themselves. "I am glad you could make the trip so early. We like to keep her off balance. Last night, the lights were on, and Aurors were conversing about Quidditch in the hallway until two. She will not have had much rest, as we awoke her at five to take her to the showers. I've read your evidence; if this is the same witch you are looking for, then I believe you can come to some answers."
"That's what we are hoping for, too," Alice said.
"It is your son, Auror Black, who faced the Dark Lord and defeated him?" Auror Ivanov asked.
"Yes," Anwen answered softly. "Although I believe it had more to do with the sacrificial love of his birth parents that destroyed Voldemort, rather than any special skill our son had at fifteen months."
"Ah, that does make more sense," the Bulgarian woman replied. Kingsley could see that Anwen wasn't prepared to discuss Harry, so he directed the conversation away from Harry and into a discussion about their Auror training program. He and Anwen would be teaching a course in the fall regarding evidence collection in the UK Auror Training School.
Upon arriving at the confinement area, the quartet watched the woman through a version of remote viewing, similar to a Muggle camera system. This was better than the mirrors that Sirius and Frank had charmed for the Brits. Anwen decided she would give the system a look before they left. Unlike the static shots that mirrors provided, this system could be shifted and zoomed, thus giving a more complete picture of the perpetrator and their actions while in the cell.
"She looks like she's ready to claw her way out of that cell," Alice said.
"I'm sure she is," Auror Ivanov said.
"Have her brought to the interrogation room," Alice finally said, Anwen intently staring at something.
"What do you see, Jeff?" Kingsley asked, using his pet name for her from the old comic strip, Mutt, and Jeff. Anwen was definitely the littler of the two.
"I won't know until we are in with her, but there's a spell around her. It's prickly, similar to a Notice-Me-Not Charm or some form of a Distraction Hex. What I can't figure out is why? The whole thing with Veelas is that they want to be noticed. It would be like a siren having a Silencing Charm on them. Defeats the protective magic they have."
"Interesting," King answered in the same hushed tone they'd been using. They watched as the Bulgarian Aurors took the prisoner from her cell and walked her into the interrogation. Auror Ivanov took them to the observation area, where she and Kingsley would be watching. There was the Bulgarian version of a Hit Wizard staying in the interrogation room due to the dangerous nature of the prisoner.
"Exactly as we planned it," Alice said once everyone was in place in the interrogation space.
"King, I can't see properly yet, but if I need you, I'll use our hand signals," Anwen said. Kingsley nodded at his former partner. They'd been on several undercover missions and found that having a way to communicate without speaking was imperative. Anwen removed the files she'd taken from her desk out of the bag she'd brought, they handed their wands to King, and she and Alice entered the interrogation room. King took the camera out of Anwen's bag with the women gone and prepared to record the interview photographically. It allowed them to review information the perps gave away without saying a word.
"Who are you?" Isabeau asked. She was chained to and magically restrained in the chair, and she wiggled in frustration. "What happened to the cute Auror who was in here the other day?" Score one for the British Aurors, Alice thought.
"This is Auror Black; I'm Auror Longbottom; we're from the British Ministry for Magic. We'd like to ask you about your recruitment of a young woman by the name of Calliope Carter in a smuggling ring."
"The Squib," the interrogated scoffed. "That's what this is about?" This was the strategy the two Aurors had agreed up on. They would make her think it was about nothing, a smuggling ring, and then spring the deaths of the Krisjan family, Emme's kidnapping and torture, and most importantly, what she knew about the false prophecy passed on to Dumbledore. Somehow, they felt that she was the missing connection to whoever was manipulating them.
Then again, she might connect to the unusual location of the Nott and Rosier fortunes. Anwen and King had found them in a bank in Belgrade, Yugoslavia. How they ended up in a Muggle bank in a communist country, the pair could not understand. It was yet another mystery on top of their already mounting mysteries.
"Yes," Alice answered Isabeau. "You are the one who recruited her."
"It was obvious from watching her that she was bored with her job and from speaking with her, she wasn't very bright. The perfect patsy."
"So, you took her under your wing for what purpose?" Alice asked. Anwen was working on picking apart the Disguising Spell the Veela had wrapped herself in. The Auror was quite convinced she wasn't only a Veela, but what else was remaining a mystery.
"I needed someone to tell me when shipments were coming into the country," Isabeau said with an air of disinterest. "Turns out she knew everyone who was staying in the hotel and who came through the pub on their way to Diagon Alley. I had no idea how useful she'd be."
"And the fortified wine?" Alice asked. Anwen began to rip the spell apart, stitch by stitch.
"Fortified with a Sleeping Potion," Isabeau said disgustedly. "It allowed the little man who was buying them to rob houses in their sleep." Alice quickly wrote a note to hold this over Dung if he wasn't talking with Frank, or they'd just overturn his plea agreement. She'd wait until they were back in the UK.
"I see, and what did you get out of this?"
"The pleasure of messing with wealthy men," she said bitterly, and Anwen had her first glimpse of the creature underneath. She'd only ever studied them, never seen one. Before she pulled the remainder of the spell apart, Anwen erected an Auror strength shield.
The last of the spell was removed, and it fell away like a thin cape, leaving the two women facing an Erinys, or one of the fabled Greek Furies. Alice jumped back, but Anwen held herself in place. King wanted to rush in, but Auror Ivanov held him back.
The Fury was a terrifying thing to behold. Taller than a human woman, she had snakes for hair, although they did not writhe about like Medusa's. Her eyes leaked a greenish fluid that bubbled and crackled upon her cheeks. There was blood on her skin and staining her white garment. She'd also grown leathery wings like a bat. In her hand was a whip, the ends studded with brass barbs. At her feet, a Grim appeared. Anwen had thought her husband resembled the grim; seeing a true one let her know Padfoot was nothing like the mythical dog. There was a strong smell of decaying flesh around the woman.
"We knew she was disguised, but we couldn't remove it," the Bulgarian said. "How did she do it without her wand?"
"Anwen isn't your average witch," King said, again in awe of his former partner.
"You didn't create that spell," Anwen said. "Who entrapped you?"
"Two wizards and a witch," Isabeau said, although the name seemed ridiculous now, as there was no way she was French.
"You can drop the accent; you're obviously not French," Anwen countered. "Do you have a name?"
"I am Tisiphone," the Fury said, "the Face of Retaliation, as Gaia named me. I was separated from my sisters by a witch and placed in this spell. My sense of justice has been corrupted for the wizard's use."
"Who trapped you?" Anwen asked softly and with great empathy.
"I do not know her name, but she spoke with a French accent. She was not the one who commanded me, though. That belonged to a shrouded man with sunken eyes. Could you please remove these shackles? You are not the one who has hurt me; therefore, I am of no danger to you." Anwen wiggled her fingers, and the shackles fell away and the spells holding Tisiphone disappeared. The protection Anwen had erected also fell.
"You are a gifted witch," Tisiphone said. "You have an intense sense of justice as well. I will tell you anything you want to know."
"Did you see anything else about this man or the woman who entrapped you?" Anwen asked.
"She was no woman," the Fury said. "She was a fallen one, or at least that is what she was trying to hide behind her glamour."
"A fallen one, as in a fallen angel or a demon?" Anwen asked. She felt like she'd fallen into one of her childhood Sunday school lessons.
"Yes," Tisiphone replied. "You seemed surprised, and yet you are sitting here speaking with me. Is it so hard for you to believe in the Christian beings you were raised with?"
"It's quite disconcerting that you know things about me that I haven't stated," Anwen said.
"The cross you wear indicated your faith to me." Anwen's hand immediately went to the cross she wore every day, forgetting it was there.
"Observant," Anwen said with a smile. "A trait as an Auror I should have considered. Who was there with this fallen angel?"
"There was another man there with her, old, perhaps nearing one-hundred years. He stayed in the shadows, but I could see the deep lines on his face. He was quiet; it was the other two who spoke. The last man was called Nate, and he did not seem as old as the first man, although he was not young."
"Where were you captured?" Anwen regained senses.
"I was avenging a mother who had been murdered by her husband in the country you call Switzerland."
"How did they entrap you?"
"It was a powerful spell, one powered by Dark Magic. I believed the spell they used was lost to antiquity. I have not seen it in millennia."
"I know you were involved with the deaths of the Krisjan family, the torture of Emmeline Vance, and the false prophecy which was given to Albus Dumbledore."
"None of the crimes I committed were of my volition," the Fury explained. "The fallen wielded a great deal of power. You are the only mortal woman I have met who could have bested her in a magical fight." Anwen was shocked by the words but recovered quickly. "I will walk you through all they made me do, but then I must return to my sisters."
"We will not detain you longer than we must," Alice said. "Thank you for your assistance."
"The one who trapped me was full of darkness. I loathe Dark Magic and men who wield it." Tisiphone began speaking, and Anwen and Alice took notes and asked questions until late into the night. When they were done, they had a fair idea of who was behind the manoeuvrings they'd been plagued with.