Minerva McGonagall glanced at the clock and sighed. Time to find out what
lead Alastor had found. Putting the report she'd been writing in a drawer
of her desk, she picked up the group picture. Nothing had changed from the
day before, except that her picture-self was standing right by Alastor now.
Nodding, she tucked it into the pocket of her robes and pulled her cape on.
The rain from the day before was gone, but it was still chilly out. Leaving
her cubicle, she made her way to Alastor's, finding him staring at the
group picture himself. She coughed slightly to get his attention. He looked
up and smiled when he saw her. "Hello, Min."
"Don't call me Min," she answered automatically as he stood up. "Where are we going?"
He pulled his cloak on. "My place. I have some things there that I need to look at."
"Very well." She nodded and waited for him to gather up the stack of parchment on his desk.
Shifting it to one arm, he offered the other one to her and she took it. They left the Ministry and made the trek to his London flat in silence, dodging the puddles left over from yesterday's rain. Reaching his flat, he unarmed the wards that had been protecting it and let her in. After he took her cloak, she moved through the entry and into the living room. "Lumos." The lights flared up to reveal a spartanly furnished room. What little furniture that was present was impersonal. Anyone would have had it in their flat. Shaking her head, Minerva turned to her friend. "Not much, is it?"
"Well, I cannot say much, considering my own flat is rather bare," she admitted.
He gestured to the couch. "Have a seat."
"Thank you." She sat down and watched as he set his stack of parchment on the low table in front of the couch.
"Would you like something to eat or drink?" he asked solicitously.
She thought for a moment. "Some sandwiches and tea would be nice."
"You don't ask for much, do you?" he chuckled as a wave of his wand prompted a plate of sandwiches to appear on the table, along with two cups of tea.
She shrugged as she picked up one of the cups of tea and took a sip. "Well, I know cooking is not your strong point. Not like--"
She stopped speaking, remembering how much he loved Poppy, like she loved-- No, she wouldn't think of him. Not right now. A soft, sad chuckle from Alastor drew her thoughts. "Don't be afraid to say her name in my presence, Minerva."
"Yes, well, shall we move on?" she suggested, struggling to compose herself.
He nodded, understanding in his dark eyes. "Yes, we shall."
"Very well." She leaned forward and picked up a sandwich. "What lead did you find?"
"Well, when I was reading the reports that had been written about Rory's murder yesterday, I found several details that showed up in _all_ of them," he explained as she ate the sandwich, a conjured napkin spread across her lap. He pulled a piece out of the pile on the table and handed it to her before taking a sip of his own tea.
She took the parchment and read it carefully as she finished off her sandwich. "Hmm. That is interesting."
"I know," he agreed after swallowing the bite he'd taken of his own sandwich. "So, I did some research."
He pulled another piece of parchment out of the pile and handed it to her. She read it and her eyes widened. "Anatole Lestrange?"
"Yes, Anatole Lestrange," he confirmed with a nod, wiping his hands on the napkin he'd conjured up for himself. "We'd found a lock of his hair at the murder scene and he hasn't been seen at his house since Rory's murder, so I secured permission to stake it out until he arrives, and then arrest him."
She raised an eyebrow. "He most likely won't go quietly, Alastor."
"I know." He took another sip of his tea. "That's why I asked to speak with you."
Catching on, she stated, "You'd like me to help you."
"Yes, Minerva, I would." He fidgeted with his teacup.
She smiled slightly. "You have it, Alastor."
"Thank you, Minerva."
"You're welcome, Alastor."
"Don't call me Min," she answered automatically as he stood up. "Where are we going?"
He pulled his cloak on. "My place. I have some things there that I need to look at."
"Very well." She nodded and waited for him to gather up the stack of parchment on his desk.
Shifting it to one arm, he offered the other one to her and she took it. They left the Ministry and made the trek to his London flat in silence, dodging the puddles left over from yesterday's rain. Reaching his flat, he unarmed the wards that had been protecting it and let her in. After he took her cloak, she moved through the entry and into the living room. "Lumos." The lights flared up to reveal a spartanly furnished room. What little furniture that was present was impersonal. Anyone would have had it in their flat. Shaking her head, Minerva turned to her friend. "Not much, is it?"
"Well, I cannot say much, considering my own flat is rather bare," she admitted.
He gestured to the couch. "Have a seat."
"Thank you." She sat down and watched as he set his stack of parchment on the low table in front of the couch.
"Would you like something to eat or drink?" he asked solicitously.
She thought for a moment. "Some sandwiches and tea would be nice."
"You don't ask for much, do you?" he chuckled as a wave of his wand prompted a plate of sandwiches to appear on the table, along with two cups of tea.
She shrugged as she picked up one of the cups of tea and took a sip. "Well, I know cooking is not your strong point. Not like--"
She stopped speaking, remembering how much he loved Poppy, like she loved-- No, she wouldn't think of him. Not right now. A soft, sad chuckle from Alastor drew her thoughts. "Don't be afraid to say her name in my presence, Minerva."
"Yes, well, shall we move on?" she suggested, struggling to compose herself.
He nodded, understanding in his dark eyes. "Yes, we shall."
"Very well." She leaned forward and picked up a sandwich. "What lead did you find?"
"Well, when I was reading the reports that had been written about Rory's murder yesterday, I found several details that showed up in _all_ of them," he explained as she ate the sandwich, a conjured napkin spread across her lap. He pulled a piece out of the pile on the table and handed it to her before taking a sip of his own tea.
She took the parchment and read it carefully as she finished off her sandwich. "Hmm. That is interesting."
"I know," he agreed after swallowing the bite he'd taken of his own sandwich. "So, I did some research."
He pulled another piece of parchment out of the pile and handed it to her. She read it and her eyes widened. "Anatole Lestrange?"
"Yes, Anatole Lestrange," he confirmed with a nod, wiping his hands on the napkin he'd conjured up for himself. "We'd found a lock of his hair at the murder scene and he hasn't been seen at his house since Rory's murder, so I secured permission to stake it out until he arrives, and then arrest him."
She raised an eyebrow. "He most likely won't go quietly, Alastor."
"I know." He took another sip of his tea. "That's why I asked to speak with you."
Catching on, she stated, "You'd like me to help you."
"Yes, Minerva, I would." He fidgeted with his teacup.
She smiled slightly. "You have it, Alastor."
"Thank you, Minerva."
"You're welcome, Alastor."
