Woolworth corridors were empty. Only the staff was on their feet, cleaning before the arrival of the first employees and clients. Recently, more and more worried wizards waited in the corridors, which caused them to be cluttered with benches now.
The sight of the Director of Security was not at all surprised by the goblin standing by the elevator. He spoke with a friend who was responsible for the window cleaning group.
- Good morning.
- Morning? I would swear that all of New York sleeps well, Mr. Graves.
- Yes, Red. Well, some do not have it so well.
- You're telling me that? Department?
- Yes please.
They got in and Red twisted the wheel with his cane. He glanced at the man standing by and his strangely inclined figure. However, he didn't say a word. He had seen him much more beaten up. He remembered him from the kid when his father brought him and his brothers to work. All the men in their family were Aurors. Well, almost.
Percival got out, trying to walk on a straight leg, not to stretch the seams. In the morning he administered diptam, but he knew that he would need much more time to heal.
Under his office, one of the Aurors was sleeping on the bench, wrapped in a leather cloak. His fair hair fell on his unshaven face. Graves shook his head at the sight of his deputy. He opened the door and shook the man's shoulder.
- August.
- Mhm? Just a minute Ada, please ...
Percival raised an eyebrow. He shrugged and pulled out his wand. The tip flared slightly, beginning to burn the forehead of the sleeping man. In the end, the skin turned red and the auror jumped to his feet, aiming at the intruder.
- I would kill you ten times. Or transmuted a dozen or so.
- Shit Graves ... I sat on the reports all night. The bureaucracy will kill us sooner than those fucking Acolytes.
- You in?
- Yes.
August followed the boss and immediately threw himself on the couch in the further part of the room. He waved his wand, trying to open the bar hidden in the wall.
- It's closed to you. Save yourself.
- I'm Irish. I was born with alcoholism.
He tried again and again, but in the end Graves waved his hand and the wall turned, revealing a glass case with a battery of glass bottles of all sizes.
- I need to get promoted. Nobody gives me such things in thank you.
- And good, then you wouldn't leave the office at all.
- All in all, right.
Sorrow twirled his wand in the air and after a while a full glass appeared on the small black coffee table. He drank it and filled it again.
- On the desk you have a report for Picquery.
- I'm reading it. You didn't write about ...
- About your house, which is suitable for demolition because you threw on it a damn spell exploding against Apparition ...? Shit, Graves, what if it was one of ours?
- Apart from you, Tina and Seraphina, no one knows where I live.
- But the place was on the map.
- No one is assigned to it.
- Anyway, you just have to write something neat about where you were. Maybe Agatha could ...
- Do not mix her with it.
- Listen, Perc. What actually happened there? The place looked like a battlefield. No one else fought. At least not so fierce.
- I'd like to know that. I don't know what they expected. Me in the middle of the day?
- Listen ... Or maybe they had Agatha in mind? If they had her ...
- That's why she'll come back to her sister. Myra has always disliked me, so she will make sure that Agatha doesn't come near me.
- I don't know. I can't imagine Aggie on the bench.
- Now she has no choice.
Sorrow drained the third glass and looked at his friend sharply. He knew what plans he had for similar accidents. If it got too hot. It was the only thing that could divide them. And they did not agree on many issues.
- You don't think about clearing her memory ...
- She's pregnant.
August was speechless. He thought that despite 10 years of marriage, it was their conscious choice not to have children, though he had heard Agatha more than once that she would like to change this state.
- Wow ...
- Yes.
Graves got up from the desk, sitting down in front of his friend. He called himself a firewhiskey and took a sip. Sorrow frowned, seeing the grimace of pain on his boss's face. He was stubborn as an ox, and even if he was dying, the hospital was the last place where he would go. He shook auror's hand with a wide smile.
- Congratulations.
- Thank you.
- Seriously, how did you react?
- I don't understand.
- You know ... You like unconventionally to react to different ... situations. When she invited you on a date, you almost laughed at her.
- It was 12 years ago. I was stupid. How should a husband react to the fact that his wife is pregnant? It's probably a normal state of affairs.
- In your case, not really. Given that your wife's family doesn't know how you really look, except of her parents and siblings. And that no one has the slightest idea that the Director of Magical Security has a wife at all. Actually, a large part of people suspected we have an affair.
Graves choked on his drink, putting the glass down on the table. He hasn't heard that yet.
- Well, they were still betting Tina, but they probably gave it up. We were better topic. Speaking of romances. How did you pick the ring without Agatha's knowledge?
- What?
- Well, you know…
- Why do you ask?
August rolled his eyes and stood up. His leg was hurting him again. He looked at the puzzled friend.
- Seriously, Graves. Sometimes I have the impression that your skull is thicker than troll's. I want to buy a ring for Adelaide.
- Girl from the reception?
- Uh-huh.
- I thought you said it was a fleeting affair.
- She shot a cupid arrow well.
Percival looked at his friend strangely, finishing drying the glass. August began to laugh, his eyes were already a bit misty.
- It's a pity you don't see your face. Hypocrite. "Love blinds. It mixes the senses. It can even kill. " Do you remember? And then you went to your own wedding.
Graves smiled, barely perceptible. Even he couldn't combine work and home life well, so it all agreed with his belief that Aurors should be less attached to others. Especially in romantic way. But love was stronger than reason.
- Take one of her rings and take it to the jeweler.
August smiled broadly and thanked with a nod. He looked at the mirror in the corner of the room and waved his wand, hiding the bar.
- Tina ... always not in time.
There was a definite knocking in the room. Graves let the guest in and sat down at the desk.
- Mr. Graves, Augustus. Any news?
- No. We're waiting for the rest and we're moving.
- You know, Graves, I thought you could interview those from Groove Garden. We'll manage in the search.
Tina frowned. She looked at her boss, who began to think about it. It was possible to get to know it after his eyebrows are approaching each other and his lips are raised in one corner, as if he was biting the inside of his cheek.
- Personally, I think that this isn't a good idea. Someone has deliberately let them there. Maybe that's what they expect.
Graves looked at her. She always had her head on the back and a practical approach. That's why he liked her and turned a blind eye to her stumbling. But this time he was going to take on the enemy's hand to satisfy the desire to hear the truth. Even if it was half of it.
- Go. If something happens, send a message. Check their apartments, check all the hiding places. If they escaped, let them come back free. They will be brought to justice and accused fairly. Let nobody touch them.
Tina nodded and left the office, followed by Sorrow. Percival looked again at the report. He couldn't lie. Nor to hide the truth. He took a clean piece of parchment and wrote it in a sloping handwriting only a little coloring. After all, he didn't save Agatha and he didn't take them to a safe place but no one knew that ... He didn't want the situation to be questioned. Even Congress had already had a mole.
He folded the report and put it in the file. As he left, he glanced at his watch. It was 7.
The corridors were slowly filling up. The secretariat smelled of coffee, but the secretary disappeared somewhere, so Graves laid the papers on her desk and walked quickly to the elevator.
Coming to the underground, he wondered about the questions he had for captured. He had to skillfully direct the conversation. But when he saw the first one of caught men, he cursed under his breath. The man was sitting in a chair, his head tilted to one side and saliva dripping from his mouth. His eyes were completely empty.
- Who interrogated him?
- Ms. Pendragon.
- Pendragon? Someone supervised her?
- Yes sir, guard Jenkins.
- Lead me to the other one.
The stuttering man led auror to the other cell. The second of the arrested had a slightly more conscious look. Seeing the Director, however, he began to whine like a wounded animal.
Open.
But sir, this man is dangerous.
Graves looked significantly at the guard. He had to be new when he questioned his words. Seeing man's lips and cloudy eyes, he pulled out the universal key and opened the cell.
Stand here.
Auror pulled out his wand and walked carefully to the man curled up in the corner.
Who sent you to Groove Garden?
I-I don't know. Please, I don't know anything. They only asked if I wanted to earn.
Who asked?
A man with a strange accent, like a German ... and a woman. American.
What did you have to do?
I don't know ... They just asked if I wanted to make a profit and then I was lying next to a wall, my head was breaking. And aurors came. They took me here.
It is a very convincing, isn't it? There is no proof of using Imperius. You have to try harder.
Graves felt the growing frustration that began with the trembling hand, making the wand lightly illuminate the dark cell.
P-Please, take my memories, I will gladly give them back.
They are useless. If someone has really charmed you, he had to clear your memory. But we can check it out.
Percival nodded to the guard and he conjured chains. Man began to howl again, begging for mercy. Graves finally stunned him and together they moved him to the upper floor to the interrogation room.
Is Jenkins at work?
He took sick day. He was vomiting like a cat yesterday.
Call Pendragon. Immediately.
Yes, sir.
When the man left, Graves woke up prisoner, bringing a metal chair to him so that he could look straight into his fuzzy eyes.
I-I'm begging ... she'll kill me like that one.
Who?
Woman. British. Auror.
Have you seen her doing it?
She took us both here. She told me to look. He also didn't remember anything. She tortured him until he went crazy.
Percival stood up, walking around the room. Pendragon have crossed the line too far. He'll deal with her later.
When did you lose your memory?
Two days ago.
Percival pulled out his wand and put it on the sweaty, dirty temple of the detainee. With a bundle of memories he approached "Sieve" as the bowl of memories was commonly called, and threw it into the swirling smoke. He looked at the image forming on the surface, but it was indistinct and chopped. Like a movie tape. However, there were a few details. A scar on man's face, a gray eye painted with a dark shadow. Graves moved back to the memories that were intact. Card tables.
Where do you play?
W-what?
Where do you play cards?
T-the Fat Hog.
Auror stirred the memories again, recalling the freshest ones. He saw himself and Agatha, spitting spells. Then the facade of the building and dust falling around. Five aurors. Two people pulling man from the garden, one kneeling next to him and two raising the body from the house.
Arrest. Jenkins dragging him across the floor to the interrogation room. Iris Pendragon, with her sleeves pulled up to the elbows, throwing Crucio on a fellow prisoner. The man, however, didn't look like he said anything but shouted.
What did he say? The other one?
Nothing. He writhed so long until blood went all around. He screamed and then just hung and looked like he was dead.
He didn't die. He survived.
It's not life ... it would be better if she would kill him.
A British Auror finally entered the room. She cast an indifferent gaze on the prisoner, staring at the Director of Security.
You called me.
As far as I know, I didn't give you permission to interrogate the detainees.
You didn't have to. The president did it.
What?!
You probably forget that someone is above you, Graves. You are not god here. So, wife? And I heard you're campaigning against romantic relationships among auror.
You interrogated one of the Groove Garden agitators. What did he tell you?
Same as this pest here. That he remembers nothing. Imperius, for sure. Someone cleaned his memory.
And you decided to restore them with another curse?
Iris came closer to him. She had blue eyes. A different shade than the one in the gambler's memories. She leaned against the desk he was standing at, bending down so that he could smell her perfume.
Do you know a better way? Well, buddy, what do you remember? - she walked to sitting man, pulling out her wand with cruel smile only he could see.
Please ... please! I don't know anything.
If you want to have a clear conscience, I can take care of it - she turned around to auror.
Leave. And don't go to detention ever again. As the Director of Security, I forbid you to take part in this matter.
Under what complaint?
Chicanery.
The woman snorted, blushing on her pale face. She sat down on the chair and looked expectantly at the auror. She wasn't leaving anyway.
Please, in that case I'd like to see how you do it.
Percival gritted his teeth, but approached the man, concentrating on what he wanted to get out of him. The eyes of the chained to the chair widened in fear. Sweat was dripping from his greasy hair and dripping down his face.
Legilimens.
The man's thoughts were chaotic. There were shrieks of plead for not to let Pendragon take him in turns or that he remembers nothing. There were also thoughts about family, children. On card debt and people who want to collect these debts. And there was one more thought. A thought repeated like a mantra, under the cover of the rest. It looked like a scratch on the wall. Graves imagined that he was reaching this scratch. Detached from his body, he felt only a strange warmth.
Suddenly, only one thought drowned out. The cry of agony. Auror tried to reach the scratch, though the growing scream began to shake him. Imaginary fingers ran over the crack, which parted. He saw only hair in it. Long, blond hair. Something blocked him. He wanted to break the bond, but his mind was stuck, a scream of stabbing pain resonating in his skull, as if he had been tortured. He focused all his will, imagining that he was falling down.
They stood in the room. Iris was aiming at the man with her wand. Graves silently threw the protego between them, eliminating the curse. He could feel the blood in his mouth that ran down his nose.
Pendragon!
You see. Your burying in the brain has no strength. Do you think you opened it? Only curse can do that. He was wiped clean.
This man knows nothing. The one who tinkered with his mind secured himself well.
Percival sank back into a chair, massaging the temples in which blood pounded painfully. He shuddered feeling nauseous. He had to pull himself together. He sent memo for the guard to come and take man to his cell.