"Quite a trial, I must say," Minerva commented from her seat beside Alastor.

He smiled faintly, his thoughts mainly on Poppy, who hadn't been herself since Rory died. "I quite agree, Minerva."

"Do either of you mind if I ask a few questions?" Conner asked from where he sat across from them.

Both shook their heads. "Not at all, Conner."

"Ask away," Alaster added, forcibly pushing his thoughts of Poppy away.

Conner consulted a list of questions he'd written down. "Well, first of all, why were you chosen to investigate Rory Flynn's murder?"

"I wasn't chosen, Conner," Alastor answered quietly. "I _asked_ for the assignment."

Conner blinked, apparently surprised. "May I ask why?"

"As a favor to a friend," Alastor told the reporter.

Conner nodded as he wrote that down. All three of them knew without being told which 'friend' Alastor meant. "All right, what set you on Anatole Lestrange's trail in the first place?"

"I noticed several common threads in the course of my research," Alastor explained, running a hand through his hair. "In following them up, Anatole Lestrange was the one to whom all the evidence pointed."

Conner consulted his list of questions again. "Let's see, ah, here we are: did Mr. Lestrange put up much of a fight when you arrested him?"

Alastor and Minerva exchanged looks, considering the question. "I'd say about as much of a fight as usual."

"Yes." Minerva nodded her agreement. "The same as usual, but he was subdued more quickly because the two of us were working together."

Conner glanced from one to the other. "Do you two work together very often?"

Alastor exchanged a glance with Minerva. "Not often, no," he admitted, his eyes on Connor's quill, which was scribbling away on the parchment.

"I see," Conner murmured, squinting a little as he read through his parchment list of questions. He frowned a little. "Why so this time?

"Well, Alastor was free to ask anyone he chose to assist him and he asked me," Minerva replied with a shrug.

Conner looked to Alastor. "What led you to choose Min over other heads?"

Minerva frowned. "Don't call me Min."

"Hush, Min," Alastor grinned at her before addressing Conner's question. "Of all the aurors, she's really the only one who knows what's going on and would understand why I do certain things."

Conner grinned. "In other words, she knows you best."

"Yes, that, too." Alastor grinned back.

Conner frowned a little as he looked over his questions. "If I remember correctly, in the course of the trial, Anatole seemed to slip when Sendrile asked him if he had murdered Rory of his own volition, or on someone else's orders. He mentioned two others: a person named Natrix and someone named Circae."

"Yes, he did," Minerva agreed as Alastor, deep in thought, rose and began to pace the room. "He said something about being told by someone named Natrix to go to Circae, who would tell him where to await his victim, whom Natrix would send to him."

Conner noticed Alastor's pacing, which was becoming very agitated. "Al? Is something wrong?"

"The term Natrix is familiar," Alastor told them, his brow furrowing. "I'm almost certain I've heard it before."

Minerva frowned as she watched Alastor pace. "Perhaps it's someone you know?"

"Perhaps," Alastor agreed absently, and then stopped short. "Of course! How could I be stupid?!"

The other two exchanged concerned glances as Alastor resumed pacing. "Al? What is it?"

"Have you figured out who it is?" Minerva sounded eager.

He waved off their questions, thinking furiously. As he'd moved up in years at Hogwarts, he'd become more aware of what went on around him, particularly within Slytherin. Though he'd never considered himself a true Slytherin, he'd learned how to act like one and had actually managed to pick up some useful information in the process. One such item of information had been the nickname Aurelius had used only among his closest friends: Natrix. Latin for water snake, Alastor was surprised it had taken him this long to figure out who Natrix could be. He turned to the other two, eager to share his discovery, but stopped short as another thought registered: _What if Aurelius is the dark figure in Fianna's dream?_ Deciding to keep this information to himself, he told them, "I have an idea, but I need to do some thinking first."

"Oh." both looked a little disappointed, but Alastor ignored it for the moment. "Very well, then, Alastor, we won't press you. Will we, Conner?"

The reporter glanced from Minerva to Alaster and back again. "No, we won't."

"Do you have any more questions?" Alastor asked as he resumed his pacing.

Conner looked down at the list in his hand. "Er, did you have any doubts regarding the outcome of the trial?"

"Of course not," Alastor answered, waving a hand. "I knew he was guilty right away."

Conner looked at Minerva. "No, I did not."

"Well, that's everything," Conner told them, rolling up the parchment after making a few notes. "Now I need to go write the article."

Alastor had the presence of mind to walk both to the door. "Thank you, Conner, for doing this."

"Not a problem, Al," Conner replied, shaking his friend's hand. "I'm just glad I had the chance to snatch up the assignment."

Minerva nodded as she followed Conner out the door. While he disappeared with a crack, she turned back to her friend. "Alastor, I want you to promise me something."

He blinked, startled. "Promise you what, Min?"

"Promise me you'll take a sleeping potion and go to bed?" she requested, her face and voice earnest.

He blinked, very surprised. "Min, I--"

"No, Alastor," she cut him off. "Promise me. You need sleep right now and I know you won't get any if you don't take a potion."

He sighed. There was no way out of it. "All right. I promise to take a sleeping potion."

"Thank you, Alastor."

"You're welcome, Minerva."

After she'd disappeared with a quiet pop, he headed into his bedroom and began to prepare for bed.