Chapter 28: The Threads Unravel

The feeling in the air was light as Amelia walked back into the office. She felt better than she had for a long time, suspecting that this potentially had something do with Fabian's arm now draping around her shoulders. Fabian. Wonderful Fabian. She glanced at him and blushed, even without him looking at her. Maybe now would be a good time.

Alice was perched on the edge of Frank's desk and she gave Amelia a small smile as the latter witch walked in. It was a question and the answer it received was positive; I'm okay. Dolores had a similar look in her eyes, as Amelia slipped out from beneath Fabian's arm and went to her seat, though the secretary voiced what Alice had left unspoken.

"How are you feeling?" the squat witch asked, "Did you visit the graves?"

Amelia nodded.

"And?" Dolores said simply.

"And," Amelia repeated, "I feel better. Somehow. It's strange how purifying crying can be."

Dolores laughed a little, the sound jarring Amelia just a bit. It was colder, more heavy than usual. The happiness she had felt at being with Fabian began to subside as her animal-like instincts sharpened at the change in mood.

"My mother used to say that crying was no good to anybody," Dolores explained, "She said that the dead wouldn't hear it and it only made the living look weak."

"Your mother was a bitch," Amelia replied flatly.

Her companion laughed again, softer this time.

"True enough."

Amelia frowned. Vera Umbridge. The blonde hadn't heard her friend speak of her mother since the latter's death many years ago. She had not been a kind woman, not by any account. It was a miracle, really, that little Jane had turned out as sane as she had. Sometimes, when no one else was around, Amelia thought she could still feel the pain burning beneath Dolores' surface.

"What made you think about her?" she asked quietly.

The other women, who was in the process of taking off a black funeral coat in exchange for her usual pink cardigan, gave a shrug.

"With everything that's been happening, I guess I'm just a little on edge," Dolores said, "Rowan's gone, just like that, we almost lost you and Fabian as well. It shows me-"

She took a breath, steadying herself as the weight of her words tried to pull her downwards.

"-it shows me how close we are, all the time, to losing everything."

And her eyes, Amelia noticed when she turned, were coloured with worry. She was paler too, looked like she hadn't been sleeping. Had those shadows been there yesterday? Amelia wondered how long Dolores had been feeling that strain. And how long everybody else had failed to notice it. Just as she was about to say something, Gideon interrupted.

"What are we talking about?" he asked in his low, calm voice.

Dolores gave a beaming smile.

"Nothing," she assured him, her manner bright, "Nothing important."

Still smiling, she accepted the arm her fiancé offered around her shoulders. Amelia didn't know whether to laugh or cry; that was how it always was. Dolores, the forgotten hero, the silent glue keeping everybody together, never asking for anything in return. What did she do it for? Loyalty, Amelia might once have said, but that would have been wrong. Gideon. The answer was Gideon.

"No rest for the wicked," Frank said suddenly, as a memo flew over to him.

"Apparent disturbance at St Mungo's," he read, "Routine checks, nothing major. Merlin, I can't believe we're back to nothing major after taking down a Death Eater ring."

"Do your job," Amelia said sternly, though she knew he was only joking.

Grabbing his coat with a grin, the auror headed off. The witch knew what he meant though. After every big case there was a certain lull, an unworldly feeling that suddenly what had once consumed their lives was done. It would take a few days, maybe weeks to wear off, by which time they would be swept back up again in another job. Such was the path they had chosen; it did not end until it ended for good.

"Bones," it was Philip Cho, "can I speak to you privately?"

He had stuck his head around the cubicle wall and he looked a touch worried. Amelia nodded, theories swimming through her head about his presence there. She followed him past the lifts and into a secluded corridor.

"It's about Darius Finch," Cho said finally, "Sorry for the amateur dramatics, but the news has only just come in and no one's really supposed to know yet."

"What's Darius done now?" Amelia sighed, preparing for the worst.

Cho's face was solemn when he answered her.

"He died."

The breath was sucked from her lungs.

"When?" Amelia demanded, "How?"

"Someone got a knife in his cell. Wasn't pretty apparently."

Amelia swallowed. Everything about Darius made her shiver, but the news of his death and how it had happened did not sit comfortably with her. Cho was not comfortable either.

"There's something else," he said darkly.

The witch raised an eyebrow.

"They say he was laughing before it happened. He said 'tell the bitch I was laughing. She'll know why. Or she very soon will'."

Amelia wasn't sure if she was offended by the assumption that she was the bitch. If it had come from anyone other than Cho she might've said something. But right now she was recalling what Darius had said to her that day in the cell. It wasn't over. But what was left? They had caught those responsible, followed that trail that Mitchie Williams had left behind. What was...

The colour drained from Amelia's face as the realisation dawned on her. The only thing left was the beginning; the only thing left was Mitchie. Frank's memo floated back to her, the words taking on a sinister significance. Disturbance at St Mungo's. Had Mitchie been discharged yet? The Auror thought she knew the answer already, though she hoped she was wrong.

"What is it?" Cho had obviously noticed the change in her demeanor.

Amelia shook her head.

"I don't know," she said, not wanting to cause unjustified panic, "Just a hunch. It might be nothing, Philip, but I've got to act on it. Please excuse me."

Amelia marched back into her cubicle.

"Fabian, Gideon," she barked, "you're with me. We've got to check something."

"I didn't realise any cases had come in," Fabian straightened in his chair, caught off guard by her abruptness.

"Is it something Philip Cho said?" Gideon asked astutely.

"Let's just call it a bad feeling," Amelia muttered, "I hope that's all it is."

Alice slid off the edge of her desk.

"Do you need back up?"

Amelia hesitated.

"Be on standby," she said.

"Where are you going?" Dolores' eyes were wide.

"St Mungo's," Amelia sighed.

"That's where Frank went," Alice said sharply.

"Yes."

There was a small silence and it was only then that Amelia felt the tension in the air. Not sure she wasn't just jumping to a ridiculous conclusion, she hadn't wanted to make a huge deal of it, but clearly she'd been giving away more than she had planned.

"Darius Finch is dead," she explained quietly, "That's almost everyone involved in this case, gone. Apart from us, the only one left is Mitchie Williams. And he's in St Mungo's."

"It isn't over," Fabian echoed the words that Darius had spoken in his interrogation.

He seemed to understand. "Find out which ward Mitchie is in," Amelia instructed him, "We'll meet you by chimneys."

They would take the floo network into the hospital Director's office, a connection that was only used in an emergency. If she was wrong, then she'd get a ticking off by a surprised and potentially irate healer, but that was a chance she was willing to take. Fabian sprinted off, his speed turning heads in other cubicles. Alice went to Amelia, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll ready my team," she said, "If there is even a hint of trouble, you send for us."

"Thanks," Amelia smiled.

Alice left the space, Gideon following behind her. Amelia went to leave, but found her path blocked by Dolores, who, now that Gideon was gone, had given up all pretenses of chill.

"This is a bad idea," she said.

"I know," Amelia replied quickly, "I know it is and, if there were more time then I'd do recon, all that, but we don't have any time. Not if I'm right."

"I don't feel comfortable letting you go," Dolores hissed.

"That's not really your decision," Amelia said cooly.

She could sense it again, that burning behind her friend's eyes. And she wasn't sure she liked it. Her own tone had been cruel, perhaps unnecessarily so, but Dolores knew the risks, they had taken them before. This was not the time to question.

"I know," Dolores replied, calming herself, "I don't make the calls, I'm just a secretary, I know, but I'm not, not anymore."

Amelia got it.

"Gideon-"

"-is all I have," Dolores continued, "This is his job, this is who he is. I try to make peace with that everyday."

"I understand," Amelia said softly.

"Do you?" Dolores interrupted.

"This isn't the time for this conversation," Amelia shook her head, "We can talk about it when I get back."

"That's what Gideon always says," Dolores replied coldly, "And I can't help but think what if he doesn't come back. What happens then?"