A/N: So kill me. I have not updated in a long time...
Er actually, don't kill me. I've been hella busy and the muse had taken an unexpected vacation. Anyway, I come bearing chapter next, in which we see more of protagonists and that sort of thing.
Disclaimer: I don't own the billion obscure characters I write. I just have them on indefinite loan.
"Jugson has no living relatives beyond second cousins," Susannah informed him. "Goblins have been directed to transfer a significant amount of funds to the office of Messrs. Barton, Merrick and Woolworth for his trial. The Wizengamot has set the date for that, tentatively, for the 15th of next month." Susannah ticked off the facts on her fingers, and gave him what he fancied to be a slightly patronizing look. "I suppose you did not meet up with success in talking to Mrs. Jugson?"
Seamus thinned his lips and glared at her. "She's not letting me in."
"So it's true, then," she shrugged. "Where is she?"
"A shelter," Seamus muttered. "It's called the House of Pallas."
"The establishment run by Emma Dobbs," Susannah recognized the name, sobering slightly. "She must have gone through some rather unpleasant things."
"You know about that place?" Seamus asked, his antagonistic feelings towards his partner forgotten for the moment. "Miss Dobbs was terribly tight-lipped about it all."
"Yes, I know about the place," Susannah sighed. "It's a very highly warded house that shelters witches escaping from traumatic household situations. Emma inherited a fortune after the war, and she spent it on building the place. Unplottable charms, warded entrances, security trolls... she took meticulous care to make sure that the women she took in would be safe there. I suppose it would be a tough sort of position for her to be in, though she does it well enough."
"You're not supposed to sympathize with her," Seamus declared flatly, his eyes narrowed. "You KNOW how important it is that I talk to Jugson's wife."
"I'm merely being objective," Susannah remarked idly. "And you should continue talking to her. Give a little bit of time and all, you know..."
"I don't think Slytherins change their minds."
"And I think that you're enormously prejudiced about Slytherins," his partner declared. "Emma JUST took the girl in, after all."
"You refer to her by her first name."
"Why not?" Susannah raised a blonde eyebrow. "She WAS my housemate, even if I didn't know her well because of the age difference. She's only twenty-two."
"That's... rather young to be running an establishment like you just described."
"I'd imagine so," Susannah remarked. "But it's fairly successful. Many prominent people donate funds to help it along financially, but outside of that, she runs it along with a staff that works for her. From what is said, Emma is not very interested in the idea of having excessive outside help."
"Is she an unfriendly sort?" It had seemed that way, from Dobbs' stony determination to keep him out.
"Not exactly. I would say more aloof than anything."
"Which translates to acting borderline unfriendly around me."
"Because you're a heavy-handed prat and need to have more patience."
"Fine then! YOU go drag Susan Bones out of that establishment!" Seamus snarled. Susannah, instead of becoming at all offended, merely gave him a smirk.
"No, I'll leave the job of hacking off Emma Dobbs to you. I think it will be an excellent learning experience."
"Learning WHAT?"
"Dodging hexes, if nothing else," Susannah replied complacently. "Good luck."
Seamus gave a grunt and muttered something about visiting Azkaban personnel for information on the new prisoner, and scuffed out of the office.
"Mistress, Mister Finnigan from the Ministry is again here to visit you," Morry the House Elf appeared in Emma's study that evening, bowing respectfully.
Emma sighed and rubbed her temples. "Let him in."
The House Elf disappeared with a pop, and a few minutes later, the sound of footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway.
Seamus followed the diminuitive creature up a staircase and down an austere corridor-- white, narrow windows, dark doors shut tight. There was a single still-life painting on the wall, of seashells on white sand. The House-Elf gestured a door at the end of the hallway, and nodded at Seamus.
Emma opened it when he knocked.
"Mr. Finnigan," she addressed him, seeming to look him in the eye despite being several inches shorter. "What brings you here again?"
"I would like a conference with Susan Bones, if you please."
"She is at supper with the others," Emma told him coolly. "This isn't the best time."
"Then when WOULD be the best time?" Seamus crossed his arms over his chest.
"When she's ready to talk about it, and in that situation, I will notify you. Good night, Mr. Finnigan," she reached out a hand to shut the door, but he was quicker and grasped the appendage, taking a step forward.
If his sudden movement had surprised him, she didn't let it show. "I can't bring you to her. Not right now," she told him in an even, almost gentle tone.
"Then maybe YOU can answer some questions for me."
"Her husband can easily be convicted without the necessity of dragging her through it," Emma told him.
"Why can't you just let me talk to her?" Seamus groaned. "Or give me some sort of answer that isn't flatly negative?"
"You don't see this sort of thing enough to understand," she told him quietly. "I do, and I know what's best for them."
"My partner tells me that you started this establishment when you finished school, with an inheritance," Seamus told her suddenly. "It's very admirable." Perhaps, if he showed some sort of interest in the place, she would be more receptive.
"Thank you," Emma said, almost gently. "It's very important to me."
"I can tell," he said dryly. A corner of her lips quirked upwards, almost a smile, and for a moment, her face was transformed from a severe one that almost reminded him of Professor McGonagall's expression back in the day-- to one that was soft, feminine, almost girlish. But the half-smile was gone almost as soon as it had come.
"Maybe someday you'd know about it," she said a bit cryptically. "But... I hope not."
He was just about to ask what she meant by that when a House Elf ran up to her, whispering something. Emma's eyes widened, and then she turned towards him, looking almost apologetic.
"I'm sorry. I need to go," she told him. "Denny will see you out." One of the House Elves appeared behind her and bowed to him, leading him towards the door. "Have a good evening, Mr. Finnigan."
Seamus was led out of the establishment no less baffled than before, and with a vague feeling that he had likely not gained any ground with the enigmatic Emma Dobbs this time around, either.
Er actually, don't kill me. I've been hella busy and the muse had taken an unexpected vacation. Anyway, I come bearing chapter next, in which we see more of protagonists and that sort of thing.
Disclaimer: I don't own the billion obscure characters I write. I just have them on indefinite loan.
"Jugson has no living relatives beyond second cousins," Susannah informed him. "Goblins have been directed to transfer a significant amount of funds to the office of Messrs. Barton, Merrick and Woolworth for his trial. The Wizengamot has set the date for that, tentatively, for the 15th of next month." Susannah ticked off the facts on her fingers, and gave him what he fancied to be a slightly patronizing look. "I suppose you did not meet up with success in talking to Mrs. Jugson?"
Seamus thinned his lips and glared at her. "She's not letting me in."
"So it's true, then," she shrugged. "Where is she?"
"A shelter," Seamus muttered. "It's called the House of Pallas."
"The establishment run by Emma Dobbs," Susannah recognized the name, sobering slightly. "She must have gone through some rather unpleasant things."
"You know about that place?" Seamus asked, his antagonistic feelings towards his partner forgotten for the moment. "Miss Dobbs was terribly tight-lipped about it all."
"Yes, I know about the place," Susannah sighed. "It's a very highly warded house that shelters witches escaping from traumatic household situations. Emma inherited a fortune after the war, and she spent it on building the place. Unplottable charms, warded entrances, security trolls... she took meticulous care to make sure that the women she took in would be safe there. I suppose it would be a tough sort of position for her to be in, though she does it well enough."
"You're not supposed to sympathize with her," Seamus declared flatly, his eyes narrowed. "You KNOW how important it is that I talk to Jugson's wife."
"I'm merely being objective," Susannah remarked idly. "And you should continue talking to her. Give a little bit of time and all, you know..."
"I don't think Slytherins change their minds."
"And I think that you're enormously prejudiced about Slytherins," his partner declared. "Emma JUST took the girl in, after all."
"You refer to her by her first name."
"Why not?" Susannah raised a blonde eyebrow. "She WAS my housemate, even if I didn't know her well because of the age difference. She's only twenty-two."
"That's... rather young to be running an establishment like you just described."
"I'd imagine so," Susannah remarked. "But it's fairly successful. Many prominent people donate funds to help it along financially, but outside of that, she runs it along with a staff that works for her. From what is said, Emma is not very interested in the idea of having excessive outside help."
"Is she an unfriendly sort?" It had seemed that way, from Dobbs' stony determination to keep him out.
"Not exactly. I would say more aloof than anything."
"Which translates to acting borderline unfriendly around me."
"Because you're a heavy-handed prat and need to have more patience."
"Fine then! YOU go drag Susan Bones out of that establishment!" Seamus snarled. Susannah, instead of becoming at all offended, merely gave him a smirk.
"No, I'll leave the job of hacking off Emma Dobbs to you. I think it will be an excellent learning experience."
"Learning WHAT?"
"Dodging hexes, if nothing else," Susannah replied complacently. "Good luck."
Seamus gave a grunt and muttered something about visiting Azkaban personnel for information on the new prisoner, and scuffed out of the office.
"Mistress, Mister Finnigan from the Ministry is again here to visit you," Morry the House Elf appeared in Emma's study that evening, bowing respectfully.
Emma sighed and rubbed her temples. "Let him in."
The House Elf disappeared with a pop, and a few minutes later, the sound of footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway.
Seamus followed the diminuitive creature up a staircase and down an austere corridor-- white, narrow windows, dark doors shut tight. There was a single still-life painting on the wall, of seashells on white sand. The House-Elf gestured a door at the end of the hallway, and nodded at Seamus.
Emma opened it when he knocked.
"Mr. Finnigan," she addressed him, seeming to look him in the eye despite being several inches shorter. "What brings you here again?"
"I would like a conference with Susan Bones, if you please."
"She is at supper with the others," Emma told him coolly. "This isn't the best time."
"Then when WOULD be the best time?" Seamus crossed his arms over his chest.
"When she's ready to talk about it, and in that situation, I will notify you. Good night, Mr. Finnigan," she reached out a hand to shut the door, but he was quicker and grasped the appendage, taking a step forward.
If his sudden movement had surprised him, she didn't let it show. "I can't bring you to her. Not right now," she told him in an even, almost gentle tone.
"Then maybe YOU can answer some questions for me."
"Her husband can easily be convicted without the necessity of dragging her through it," Emma told him.
"Why can't you just let me talk to her?" Seamus groaned. "Or give me some sort of answer that isn't flatly negative?"
"You don't see this sort of thing enough to understand," she told him quietly. "I do, and I know what's best for them."
"My partner tells me that you started this establishment when you finished school, with an inheritance," Seamus told her suddenly. "It's very admirable." Perhaps, if he showed some sort of interest in the place, she would be more receptive.
"Thank you," Emma said, almost gently. "It's very important to me."
"I can tell," he said dryly. A corner of her lips quirked upwards, almost a smile, and for a moment, her face was transformed from a severe one that almost reminded him of Professor McGonagall's expression back in the day-- to one that was soft, feminine, almost girlish. But the half-smile was gone almost as soon as it had come.
"Maybe someday you'd know about it," she said a bit cryptically. "But... I hope not."
He was just about to ask what she meant by that when a House Elf ran up to her, whispering something. Emma's eyes widened, and then she turned towards him, looking almost apologetic.
"I'm sorry. I need to go," she told him. "Denny will see you out." One of the House Elves appeared behind her and bowed to him, leading him towards the door. "Have a good evening, Mr. Finnigan."
Seamus was led out of the establishment no less baffled than before, and with a vague feeling that he had likely not gained any ground with the enigmatic Emma Dobbs this time around, either.