Ademarus grabbed the sheets and immediately buried his freckled nose in the long columns of numbers and annotations Gwen had completed the day before.
"What a beautiful day!" Gwen said aloud.
"What?" Ademarus raised his head for a moment and looked at her uncomprehendingly. She pointed at his window with the beautiful view. Gwen often tried to involve him in common small-talk, and mostly failed abysmally.
"Ah. Could you please try again brain number 4, there seem to be a lot of discrepancies there, in my opinion." He indicated several lines in one column, and Gwen was amazed once more how quick Ad had detected her flaws.
"All right, I'll fish number four."
Ademarus was their team leader, and used to press them to meet their project deadline, which they regularly failed to do. Nobody in the higher ranks of the Ministry ever complained, since the researchers were regarded as some exotic wizarding species down in the deepest bowels of the Ministry and therefore shown a kind of cautious respect.
Yet the red-haired Ademarus was not only a magicoholic, but also a workoholic. He was always the last to leave in the evening, mostly the first to arrive in the morning, always giving his best. However, he never boasted about it. That was presumably why many people thought he was a bit crazy.
Gwen opened the door to her office. Through the window she could see that in London, as at home, a heavy wind was blowing, driving dark clouds across the sky.
Their office was a bit larger than Ademarus's and contained two desks. Isabelle's desk was tidy like always; there were several orderly stacks of parchments, some quills, some books, and a wizarding photograph of her two children (who were right now playing with a quaffle). Gwen's desk was a mess as usual, and she imagined Ademarus standing in front of it in despair, trying to find her test results.
She put her cloak on a hanger and deposited her leather bag beside her chair. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her desk. The coffee Isabelle made was very delicious. She felt a bit tired.
She took a sip and threw a glance at the Daily Prophet which was lying on top of a heap of parchments, files and letters. There were the usual headlines regarding the hunt of Sirius Black. She frowned. What's the matter with the Aurors that they can't get him? But then, Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, he must be a very powerful wizard and a real match even for the Aurors. As she wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch, she skipped the articles about the latest World Cup matches, continued flicking through the paper, then closed it and started opening her mail.
Half an hour later she extracted one of the small glass tanks from their wooden cupboard, got some pieces of parchment and a quill, and left the office.
"Are you finished with that picker arm?" she asked Isabelle, who was sitting at one of the desks in the Brain Room with a small glass tank containing brain number three, which she used to call 'Jerôme', in front of her.
"Oui, you can use it."
"Hallo Gwendolyn!" Firmin Warrington looked up from his work. His desk held two glass tanks. His project consisted in comparing muggle and wizarding brains. Like Isabelle, he used his wand to carry out some tests, but he was not as deft as her. Sometimes the brain – probably the wizard's brain – seemed to escape from his spell, as if it were trying to flee, but could not due to its constricted encasement.
"Hallo, Firmin." Gwendolyn waved in his direction. "Are you making good progress?"
"Oh, but this is really very difficult," he answered rather vaguely. Tiny drops of sweat showed on his slightly balding forehead. "And you?"
"Have to repeat some tests with 'Ernie'," she explained. "Seems that the results contained some anomalies." Firmin nodded, but was already trying to focus his wand on the brain again.
Gwen took the picker arm out of the bucket where Isabelle had left it and looked for 'Ernie', brain number four, floating in the green liquid. When she had found it, she submerged the small glass tank with the help of the picker arm into the liquid. Its glass cover was open. She extracted her wand, pointed it on Ernie, made it move into the smaller tank, which now was also filled with the green liquid, and closed the cover with a Closing spell. Finally she extracted the smaller tank, put the picker arm back into the bucket and used her wand to Vanish the liquid on the outside of the glass tank and the picker arm.
Then she carried the tank to one of the other desks where she had deposited the quill and the parchments.
Isabelle looked up from her work. "Bob filled up the preservation solution this morning, n'est-ce pas?"
"Yep, I saw him. Why do you ask?"
"Alors, there is something I do not understand. Our dear little cauliflowers seem to be a bit drowsy today. I wonder whether the concentration of the solution is … correct?"
"Oh!" Gwen looked worried. "No need to start my tests if it is not. I'll ask him."
"Merci, that's sweet of you", Isabelle beamed, fluttering her eyelashes playfully. Gwen laughed.
Minutes later Gwen returned with Bob. "What's the matter, girls?" the Tank Manager asked brightly.
Isabelle explained her worries. Bob had a closer look at Jérôme.
"Hm, that's strange, indeed," he admitted.
He rushed to his office, and soon came back laden with some vials, a cauldron, several bottles, flasks and pipettes. He put everything on a free desk, went to the big tank and cautiously took a sample of the solution with the help of a vial and his wand. Then he sat down and began to analyse the sample, muttering under his breath: "Phenol red 8, yep, atenolol and furosemide, 0.83mM and 0.20mM, ok. Fluxweed hem hem, pH at 6.5 ± 0.02, essence of two scarab beetles, correct, osmolality at 290 ± 10 mOsmol/kg, that's fine. No problem here. Let's see, lovage, all right, powdered moonstone …" He went on wagging his head, muttering so low now they could not understand him anymore.
Honoria Brum left her office in her flowing earthy-coloured robes, went to Firmin and asked him something. They talked for a while. When she saw Isabelle and Gwendolyn, obviously waiting instead of working, she joined them for a little chat.
"What's happening? Hi, Gwen, how are you?"
Gwen murmured that she was fine. Isabelle explained the problem she seemed to have encountered with the dozy brains and admired the aquamarine stones Honoria wore.
"Aquamarine opens and balances the throat chakra, thus helping you to express your personal truth and your true feelings." Honoria looked meaningfully at Gwen. "It's one my favourite gems."
"I like it, too", Gwen answered. "What are you doing today?"
Honoria Brum examined brain activity during trances and prophecies. She often used the brains in the tank, but also worked with wizarding people who were able to fall into a trance, or wanted to learn having trances and visions. She held these seminars outside the DoM. Besides she often collaborated with the staff in the Hall of Prophecies.
"I'll meet with a group of witches and wizards to examine their brains during a trance induced by staggering movements," she explained excitedly. "I'll try some monotonous drum music today. The trance per se…"
"Good morning, ladies." Suplinius Crow, clad in his usual black robes, was suddenly standing behind the three witches, having emerged noiselessly out of thin air as was his custom. He had long black hair, a crooked nose, black eyes and a pallid face. "May I ask your help?"
They stopped chatting immediately and turned to Crow, who worked in the adjacent Death Chamber. They knew he studied the process of natural death. Gwen found him a bit creepy sometimes.
"How can we help you, Monsieur?" Isabelle asked him in her friendly way, stroking her short brown hair.
"Haven't you developed a method to extract memories from a dead brain?" he asked, looking sullen as ever.
Gwen nodded and Isabelle said proudly: "Yes, indeed, that was a project of ours half a year ago. We succeeded in isolating and conserving memories from some of our brains." She lifted her index finger. "Alors, … the brain must be preserved as early as possible after the death of its owner. The process is very difficult, there are several complicated wand movements involved and you need, of course, talent, determination and skill."
Because if handled wrongly, Gwen thought, they attack you.
Crow said nothing and seemed to ponder about something.
"Could you show me your technique?" he asked finally.
Isabelle and Gwen looked at each other, hesitating. The tension was nearly palpable.
"Why do you need it?" Gwen asked in order to buy time, taking off her glasses and scrutinising them pointedly, as if she'd found a spot on them.
Crow raised an eyebrow. "I do not know whether I can tell you."
Isabelle turned around to look at Bob and hide her irritation. Bob, however, was still analysing the solution, muttering under his breath.
"Mr Crow, you want us to show you a newly developed method pending to be patented, and would not tell us why?" Gwen glowered at him.
Crow drew himself up to his full height. "Miss Bale, you know that the staff of the Death Chamber …"
Bob suddenly cried: "It's the venom from the runespoor fangs. I knew it!"
They all turned around, Crow looking haughtily, Isabelle, Honoria and Gwen smiling encouragingly at him.
"I do not know how it could happen, but the venom in this vial has a lower concentration than it should." Bob looked confused and held up a vial containing a shiny green liquid.
"Perhaps you should rather mistrust your own team members and processes than suspect decent Ministry employees," Crow remarked with an acid look at Gwendolyn.
She ignored him.
"I'll have a closer look at this issue," promised Bob, took the sample and part of his vials and things and withdrew to his own office.
Gwen, Isabelle, Honoria, and Crow stood silent for some time.
"Time flies," sighed Gwen, just to break the silence, and looked apologetically at 'Ernie', brain number four, which was still floating lonely and drowsily in the small tank on the desk.
"As regards your showing me this new technique…," commenced Crow once more.
Gwen looked him straight into the eyes. "I know that the different sections of the Department of Mysteries are supposed to cooperate, but I think …"
"I can assure you that I need it for purely internal purposes. Research purposes, of course. And when I'll prepare the corresponding report for the management, I will certainly mention your names." He did not look at her directly, but somewhere over her right shoulder.
"I'd like to confer with my team colleagues first. Excuse me, please." She turned on her heel and strode to Ad's office, Isabelle following in her wake.
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~