Chapter 2. Paleness and bewilderment go hand in hand

Oh, holding my breath

Won't see you again

Something keeps me holding on to nothing

(Taylor Swift, haunted)

She woke suddenly, bewildered by the smell of burning and the pain spreading through her body like a wave. Above her was Aodh, slowly sniffing her face and licking her cheek, causing the pain to subside at the creature's gesture. There was no need to look for too many explanations of what might have happened.

Juliette knew it like the back of her hand.

She and Aodh had been in that position too many times after she had been forbidden to continue using sleeping draught because of the potion's addictiveness. After months of taking it Jules had sanely agreed to wean herself off it, especially when she had started to notice the side effects of the numbness and had ended up nearly cutting off a bowtruckle's arm by accident.

"Did you burn me?" Jules heard her own voice, hoarse and confused. She didn't remember having a nightmare for the bulgae to act that way, but it wouldn't be the first or last time. She blinked, letting him carefully treat the burn on her face as he had done countless times before.

If restless sleep was what she was having then Aodh usually woke her up the only way he could think of: by burning her skin with his forepaws. Jules had finally surmised that this was a recurring behaviour in bulgae in general, who had the ability to heal burns with their own saliva.

She cast a spell to check the time, discovering that it was just after five o'clock in the morning. Juliette didn't have to go to the Ministry until almost noon, so after having read the three files that had been given to her the day before, she had nothing more to do but finish arranging the plants that she had brought directly from home. Aodh was particularly fond of sweet chamomile, so Jules had grown a huge bush of that kind years ago. Besides, taking care of things puts her in a good mood, even if it was just watering them in the morning.

"Let's start the day," Juliette murmured, the words needed to get the creature off her back. She would simply put a few drops of essence of dittany on the burn to heal it.

She turned on the light and walked over to the mirror, two faint burn shadows on both cheeks, the skin beginning to heal rapidly from the saliva residue. The wound had taken some of her freckles with it, which Jules knew would pop back as soon as she got some sun.

Her hair was a mess too, a honey-blonde nest that was half tucked into the bun she'd put together before bed and half falling out in uneven strands. It had been years since someone else had cut her hair, and it had started to show especially in the last few months. At least when Stephanie came to visit her regularly in the first months after graduation she took the liberty of critiquing Jules' hair as if she were a specialist.

She followed Aodh into the kitchen-lounge. The beast was clearly waiting for Juliette to feed him even though it wasn't his time yet.

Jules drank a cup of coffee with cream in record time before getting into the suitcase to feed the animals. The witch's usual time for feeding them all was close to an hour and a half, especially as some of them, like the hippogriffs, liked to be petted a bit before being fed.

That day she had to pause to pluck one of the dead jobberknolls and carefully bury it. The creature's friends watched her keenly, flying around her, and one of them pecked her finger affectionately when she opened her palm with worms to feed it. She had always liked jobberknolls, little blue-feathered creatures that looked like birds but made no noise until the moment of their death.

Stuffing the feathers into a box, Jules realised that the amount she had accumulated was enough, and that she would have to find out about an apothecary or potioneer in order to sell it. It was only going to be when it was time to collect the glumbumble treacle, so she would make one trip and no more.

Juliette finished storing everything, laying out the plants so that she could call them in later. Most of the things she had brought from the States had come there, and the little house inside the suitcase had accumulated enough junk to cover her for a lifetime.

By nine in the morning Jules had finished her rounds inside the suitcase, leaving to have a breakfast once and for all, something more substantial than coffee, and finally arrange the plants to calm Aodh down. She felt like leaving the suitcase open, and letting the animals roam around the flat, but she thought it was a reckless idea if she wasn't present.

Thorfinn, the demiguise, unabashedly latched onto her leg, leaving with her and immediately releasing her to start moving around the flat. Jules knew that the creature would just nest somewhere, probably steal the bedding and stuff it into one of the empty wardrobes to accommodate itself.

She opened wide the living room windows that led out onto an elongated balcony. It was separated by just a few inches from the other balconies, which were exactly the same. Juliette was sure that each flat had specific spells, because they were bigger than they looked on the outside. The weather had improved by a thousandth compared to the day before, plus Jules had cleverly placed a heat charm to adjust the temperature inside the place.

Aodh watched her from his spot on the carpet, dragging his black nose against the fibre to scratch it.

"Why don't you go see that Thorfin doesn't break something?"

The bulgae huffed, closing its eyes and giving her the clear signal that it was not going to get up. The creature's actions caused Jules to roll her eyes. Sometimes Aodh behaved as if he were an older brother tired of his younger siblings, though the creature had served to keep the more rebellious ones in line; Juliette had raised him, mended him in the early burns, and nursed him every chance she got until she started at Ilvermorny. Obviously during her school years she had not been permitted to take the bulgae with her and, unlike Thorfinn, Aodh could not follow her discreetly.

She raised her wand, intending to put up a temporary guard in case any creature wanted to peek out of the case.

Jules tied her hair back into a ponytail, opening the suitcase and setting it on the balcony floor to summon the plants. She had chosen matching pots for all of them, brown with little dots sticking out of the ceramic.

Putting on her gloves, she arranged the pots and trimmed back the few leaves that had wilted to the point where they were non-salvageable. The mooncalf manure had paid off apparently because the chamomile, wormwood and rue had doubled in size since the last time Jules had taken the time to really care for them.

"I guess you're Daphne's new neighbour," Juliette looked up at the voice to find a woman on the right-hand balcony. Jet black hair brushed her chin and made her sharp features stand out far more than -probably- with any other hairstyle. She was dressed in a sophisticated manner, a loose emerald green skirt and a cape of the same colour crossed over and pinned with a flower pin of some sort with silver details.

She reminded her strangely of Stephanie, who was a spoiled brat and forced everyone to wear the latest fashionable nail designs when they were in fifth year. However, there was a heavier aura around the woman on the other balcony, more snobbish and refined.

Jules wasn't particularly good with people so she simply nodded in the woman's direction, assuming she wasn't dealing directly with her neighbour but with some sort of company, as she continued to pull out of her bag the potted plants. Most of them were plants she had a use for, either for potions or for healing creature wounds directly.

"That's an awful amount of plants to carry in a suitcase."

"I just brought the case, I have everything in it," Jules explained, her voice barely loud enough for the woman to hear. She was sure she had acquired enough of an American accent for the woman to notice.

"Pans? Are you talking to yourself again?"

Juliette guessed that the other female voice, coming from inside the neighbouring flat, belonged to Daphne. It was a few seconds before the girl suddenly looked out onto the balcony to join her friend, to actually see if indeed she was talking to herself.

"I'm chatting with your neighbour."

Jules saw out of the corner of her eye how Dorian, the niffler, quietly but very obviously peeked out of the suitcase.

"Ah. Good morning!"

Daphne was as sophisticated as her friend but rather happier at that time of the morning. She was perfectly dressed with her ash blonde hair tied in a half ponytail and a long sleeved dress with a high collar.

"Good morning," said Juliette, carefully. She didn't want to seem wary, but it was almost unavoidable for her, who was capable of leaving her life in any of her magical creatures but hardly in those of a few other wizards.

"You're the blond man's girlfriend, aren't you? I saw him with the landlord here the other time," said Daphne. She had a cup of something -probably tea- in her hand, and looked ready to hear all about Jules' life.

"He's my brother, he wanted to have the key secured before I arrived in the country."

"I'm Pansy, this is Daphne, I don't live here but you'll be seeing a lot of me."

"Juliette, people usually call me Jules."

The niffler had been taking his time looking at the plants already in place, probably looking for his next shiny target, and finding it directly in the woman on the other side and her pin. Seeing all the intent in him Juliette prepared to reach out and catch him.

"Dorian," Juliette tried to warn, however the creature leapt - wanting to fly the few inches that separated one balcony from the other - and slammed into the protective shield, bouncing backwards and looking at Juliette with a look of instant confusion. "Sorry, he usually does that."

Jules stood up, shaking the dirt out of her gloves and tossing them into one of the pots for later storage.

"Is that your pet?" Daphne crouched down from her side of the balcony to look at the niffler that had taken the ring off his hand and was staring at it. The loose blonde hair fell like a curtain in front of Daphne's face.

"Something like that. I'm a magizoologist," Jules looked at her no-maj wristwatch, "and it's about time I changed to go if I don't want to be late."

"All right, that makes two of us," Pansy said. I guess we'll be seeing each other soon.

"I suppose. Please don't panic if you hear any strange noises from the creatures, I'm not sure how well the soundproof charms are set up," Jules grabbed Dorian's hand, before waving her wand and closing the suitcase. "Oh, and you might smell a bit of a burning smell but don't be alarmed because it's normal."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"Burning smell?"

"One of the creatures sometimes plays with fire, but it's theirs and it's not dangerous. I've got most of the flat set up so nothing catches fire, plus an alarm in case it happens."

"Well, that's just being cautious" Daphne seemed almost fascinated.

[ / ]

Dudhald was waiting for her at the Ministry entrance. It didn't take Jules long to recognise him mostly because of the man's height and distinctive burgundy hair, which was really more to do with her being overly observant than a memorable fact per se.

The man was a few inches taller than her -which wasn't complicated- and perfectly dressed in a white shirt and matching waistcoat and trousers in a light brown. Jules had overlooked the day before that the man had a single dimple on the right side of his face, which came to light when he smiled at her the moment he finally saw her.

"Miss Scamander, good morning."

"Good morning," Jules glanced at her watch. "The meeting with the Department of Mysteries is in ten minutes, isn't it?"

"Exactly. Did you get a chance to read the reports?"

They got into one of the lifts, going to level eight.

"Yes, although I want to see the bodies to wrap up my thoughts. There were some things that didn't quite convince me based solely on what I saw in the photographs."

Especially the post-mortem cut on the necks of both victims.

"You don't think it's a creature then?"

"I don't know, not a beast at least. Maybe a being? Why are all the investigations focusing on a magical creature? Can't it be possible that we're dealing with another wizard?"

"The brutality and filth seems unbecoming of a wizard."

Jules looked at him. "Of course, because wizards are incapable of getting their hands dirty, aren't they?"

"That's not what I meant. Things were calm before this, an outburst like this. We all want to believe it's a creature and not another wizard."

Not after the last one, Dudhald must have been thinking, just like Jules.

The witch adjusted her cranberry-coloured cardigan, which didn't seem like a smart wardrobe decision given that it was unravelling when she didn't have her coat on. She had drunk a moderate dose of calming draught before entering the Ministry solely because the brutality of the wounds the bodies apparently bore was too much.

"What about Granger and Potter?" asked Jules "Or how are we supposed to be working in general?"

"You are with me," Dudhald said simply. "Granger is about to go on maternity leave and Potter is still in charge of the auror department so he's just handling the scenes first hand. "

That meant they were expecting another death.

"Good."

Finally they went down to the eighth level.

"We have to go from the Ministry atrium to the ninth level. Dawlish is supposed to be waiting for us, he's the head of the Ineffables' office."

Jules said nothing until they finally arrived and were met by Jonah Dawlish, who introduced himself curtly before leading the pair into a room. The Department of Mysteries was definitely gloomy, with a much, much darker tone than the rest of the Ministry.

Juliette realised very quickly that the only corpses that were tolerable to her were those of creatures, needing burial or post-mortem care. As soon as she saw the two bodies levitating inside the room on some sort of stretcher, she almost got sick. Bile rose in her throat and she had to bite her tongue to keep from throwing up what little she had eaten in the morning.

"Are you all right, miss?"

Jules nodded, not yet confident enough to speak aloud. She noticed at that moment that there was a female healer present, dressed in full lime green robes and gloves. The woman greeted them with a nod.

"Please put on your gloves" the healer said. Dudhald and she both comply quickly, taking a pair of gloves each.

"What do you think about the cut throat?" was the first thing Jules asked the healer

"Well, as it's in the reports, both cuts were made post-mortem, it's an accurate cut," the woman settled down to show on the first of the bodies, the youngest man Juliette remembered was surnamed Flint. "It's not a long enough wound to have severed the carotid arteries at the sides."

"The medical report didn't say anything about the blood," Jules said briefly, looking at the cut carefully and bringing her fingers close to it. The edges of the gash were even, with no irregularities. "If the assailant was a magical creature and as you reported the time of attack and time of death did not match exactly then it should be death by poison."

"Indeed."

Dudhald watched her as if he were assessing her, and Jules looked around for any extra signs on the corpse.

The healer stepped away to bring with her a vial of darkened liquid, which Juliette assumed was poisoned blood preserved by some kind of special spell.

"It had traces of a poison that we have not yet been able to identify. But we also found nothing on the body that could prove what kind of poison it was, although there are bruises that we don't know exactly where they came from."

Most animal poisons left certain marks on the body that evidenced their presence in blood, or even at the sites of bites or stings. However, as far as Jules could see, at least Flint's body bore none.

She approached the second body, that of Mr. Westerfeld, and did a quick check that ended with the same result as the other man. However the poison had gotten inside the victims, or whatever the poison was, it had not been from the outside in.

She still had the bile in her throat and there came a time when she had had enough.

"The arm thing," Dudhald reminded her, he had at some point pulled out a quick-quotes quill that was writing down what everyone was saying.

"Yes, thank you," Jules leaned closer to Flint again to see what was left of his arm. Bloodless and in vivo it was clear that it was not an animal bite, maybe it could have been torn off. But that theory didn't match that it had been slashed ten centimetres below the shoulder, due to the slightly irregular pattern it could have been by claws, which had cut into the flesh and torn off from there.

"Well, I think I've had enough for today," Jules muttered, pulling a notepad and invisible ink quill out of her satchel bag. She quickly jotted down her first-hand notes as the healer and Dudhald continued to talk about the blood.

Juliette would have time to compare her thoughts with the departmental reports when she arrived at the flat.

Dawlish broke away from them, from Jules and Dudhald, when the three of them reached level eight. He didn't say another word to them, nor did he offer an opinion on the murders or what little had come out while they were all with the bodies.

"Dudhald, can I have a copy of your notes?"

"Yeah, sure. What are you going to do now?"

Jules looked at her watch.

"Probably go and see my brother before I go home. Do you know what I need to do to seek outside assistance with the case? Where do I go to ask for permission?"

"A consultant? For what?

She noted how crowded both the corridor and the lift were.

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

Juliette had been made to sign a confidentiality agreement and was a little uneasy about the number of curious eyes around them at the moment. Dudhald seemed to have been taken by surprise at the woman's request.

"In your brother's office?" The man cast a time spell. "It's almost lunchtime, we can ask him to let us talk there, or we can always cast a muffliato."

Jules nodded carefully.

"I prefer an office"

The walk for her took almost forever, too many people in the same place and time moving faster than she liked. They had to take the lift to the fourth floor, where the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was located.

Rolf was luckily arguing with someone about a nogtail problem outside Manchester, though this fact caused him to barely pay attention when Dudhald and Jules approached him. Juliette stood a few feet away, listening incessantly about how one of the nogtail had eaten almost an entire flock of Muggle sheep.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your moment of decision. Rolf, I need to use your office for a moment," Jules caught her brother's eye, who turned to look at her slightly surprised at the interruption and nodded slightly at the request. She glanced at her watch. "By the way, you just need to go with a squad of white dogs and have them scare off the nogtails, a confundus to the no-majs, and check that no other nogtail hatchlings have snuck in with the real hatchlings."

The wizard who was talking to his brother stared at her in confusion, but seemed to begin to make a quick note.

"Dudhald," Jules called. "Come on."

Juliette waved her hand in her brother's direction and hurried to the office with Rolf Scamander's name engraved on the door. The place was covered with papers, and she instantly raised her wand to soundproof it so that whatever they were talking to each other would remain there.

Dudhald seemed excited to hear her speak, as he simply folded his arms and watched her as she closed the door. Part of his burgundy fringes fell over his face, and the man said not a word.

"I think we should consult a potioneer, expert in poisons perhaps, or experienced in alchemy. There were no poisonous animal bite marks on the bodies and I don't think any of the cuts were made by a creature per se. I think we're either talking about a creature we don't know about or that they were given poison in an artificial way."

"And do we need a potion maker for ...?"

"You need an alchemist's lab to do the separation of the blood and the venom, to study just the venom wizards can probably separate the blood but I want to be present when it's the venom study to make sure nothing is being misappropriated, each animal's venoms have to be treated in different ways, so there are going to be decisions needing to be made immediately."

"A laboratory?"

"There is alchemical material that is expensive, it is something that is very difficult to study. At Ilvermorny we only had it as an optional in the final year, and they teach the basics. But an excellent potion maker usually has a basic or intermediate knowledge of alchemy."

"OK. We're going to have to get permission, but I'll owl you the necessary paperwork and the options of Potioners available in England."

Jules nodded. Her heart had begun to beat faster and she realised that the potion had begun to evaporate from her system, whether it was due to the nerves caused by the corpses or the number of people around her.

It was time to go.