Night had already fallen, the first stars were sparkling in the sky and a cool wind was blowing, when Gwendolyn apparated on a deserted street near Hogsmeade. On her way to the main street she buried her nose into her scarf, hurrying as fast as she could to get to the Three Broomsticks. She was a bit late, but she had got astray several times. Apparating was not her favourite way of travelling.
In the far distance she saw a Dementor floating in the sky and shivered. She had, of course, read about the heightened security measures in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, but seeing them in real life was something different.
She averted her gaze and looked straight forward. The warm light of the pub was glowing through the window panes. She was looking forward to a little break as she had been drawing up reports, and verifying calculations the whole day. And she still wasn't finished.
When she opened the door to the pub she heard cheery voices and laughter, a pleasant warmth engulfed her, and she suddenly remembered her school days. They had come here so many times, enjoying the convivial atmosphere, sipping their butterbeers, or even trying some firewhiskey. She took off her fogged glasses, cleared them with a Tergeo spell and put them on again.
She caught sight of Jonathan who was sitting on a small table in the far corner of the pub, waving to her, and joined him. When she had taken off her cloak, gloves, and scarf, and taken a seat, Madam Rosmerta approached them, asking what they would like to drink. Jon opted for a butterbeer – "just like in the good old days", he grinned – while Gwen ordered a mulled mead.
When Madam Rosmerta had walked away on her high heels, swaying her hips, Jon addressed Gwen. "I am glad to meet you at last. After all those years! You look great."
Gwen looked at him, a bit surprised by the look of true admiration she saw in his eyes.
"Thanks," she said awkwardly, fidgeting a little. "I never knew you wanted to become an Auror," she added in a hushed voice. "Though I do remember your NEWTs were brilliant…"
With the exception of Potions, she thought, weren't you abysmal in Potions? She herself had got an Outstanding in her Potions NEWTs.
"Well, you are right I didn't consider it at first, did a lot of other things before I became an Auror. It's such an interesting job. And I am doing fine. And you?"
"Me, too, usually," she answered. "Well, at the moment it's different, of course. With that … incident in the Death Chamber, you know…" What an elegant change of topic, she thought.
"I hope we haven't given you too hard a time." He looked a bit miserable.
Gwen shrugged: "I suppose you're just doing your job, aren't you?"
Jon nodded and whispered: "We are. But all those Unspeakables and mysteries." He frowned.
Gwen couldn't suppress a grin. To investigate in the DoM of all places had to be a real nightmare for an Auror. He returned her grin.
"And there is a lot of pressure from above, as you can imagine. A murder in the Ministry! Besides, Sirius Black is still on the run. And there are even darker rumours…" He stopped, looking around.
Gwen looked at him, curious. This was going better than she had thought. Was Miss Carthew right? she thought. Has it something to do with You-know-who?
At that moment Madam Rosmerta brought them a bottle and a steaming mug. He raised his mug to her, she followed suit, looking into his brown eyes. Then both took a sip from their drinks.
"Aaaah," Jon sighed with pleasure. "Best butterbeer in the world!"
Gwen smiled. "You may be right there." Then she continued talking under her breath: "Do you think Black is involved in that… incident?" That was an audacious step forward. If he refuses to answer that one…
"Well, there was the Dark Mark, and he's a known Death Eater. We must take him into account. But we must take pretty much into account, you know."
Gwen sighed: "Who would have thought that Sirius Black would become a Death Eater. I mean, we've known him all at school, even though he was only in second year when we left. He seemed so glad to be in Gryffindor – so unlike his whole Slytherin family."
"Yeah," Jon agreed, "he was big pals with James Potter and his friends. But – we think," he lowered his voice, "that all this was cleverly planned a long time ahead."
"Ah." Gwen looked impressed, thinking of the good-looking dark-haired boy she, being in Ravenclaw, had only seen from afar. "But how could he have entered our Department?" she whispered.
"That's what we're asking ourselves, too," he whispered back, taking a draught from his butterbeer.
She squinted at him: "Oh, you think he must have had help, then?"
"Someone must have helped the murderer from inside the DoM, no matter who the murderer was – Black, or anyone else. That's obvious, isn't it? Apart from that some think that Black's here at Hogsmeade and wants to get at Harry Potter, too."
He leaned forward over the table, looking straight into her eyes: "How well do you know the Death Chamber staff?" His voice was barely audible.
She flinched. "Not very well. I've just started a … a project with Crow, as you know, and I think I'll finish that soon enough." She sipped her mulled mead. "At least I hope so," she added as an afterthought.
"You don't like him?"
"He, err…, he's a bit … withdrawn."
"Everyone's as close as a clam in your Department," Jon chuckled.
Suddenly Gwen heard a familiar voice, and searched the room. It wasn't easy to distinguish people through the smoke and haze of the pub. Then she spotted Honoria, enjoying a butterbeer with a woman Gwen didn't know. Both were deeply engrossed in conversation.
She tried to wave, but Honoria didn't see her.
"Who is that?"
"Honoria, my colleague, don't you know her yet?"
"Ah, yes, now I recognise her." He turned back to Gwen. "Listen, Gwen, perhaps we could stay in contact and you could tell me things you … learn when you're working in the Death Chamber…?" His question hung in the air like the smoke from the many cigarettes.
"Whom do you suspect?" Gwen asked, not replying to his question.
"Everyone's a suspect in our field of work. Even you," he grinned. "I, of course, trust you and believe that you are not involved with Death Eaters. And that you're clever. I am sure you can be of help."
"I'll do what I can," she smiled, and lit a cigarette. "But as I said: We'll soon be finished, and then I'll return to the Brain Room." She gave a contented smile.
Some goblins at a nearby table started singing a raucous song in Gobbledegook.
She took a drag from her cigarette: "What about Mrs Beresford? I mean – do you like working with her?"
"She's a nice guy, you know, she seems a bit harsh, but she's all right. Got on to the track of some dark wizards, she did," he said, admiringly.
"That's good to know." She took a deep breath and screwed up her courage. "Tell me, Jon, who reported the murder?" She looked at him from under her eyelashes. "And when?"
The goblins broke into laughter and applause, and ordered more butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta smiled and obliged.
"Hey Gwen, it's usually me who asks the questions…," Jon tried to slow her down.
"Well," she raised her hands, "if you want me to help you down there in the Death Chamber, I'll need some information."
He sighed: "It was Tim. Timothy Oakden. He reported the murder at a quarter past eight."
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~
Monday, 25 April 1994
"Now, now, you must tell me how it was," pouted Isabelle. Today she was wearing high-necked beige-coloured robes and a beautiful amber collar. Gwen loved Isabelle pronouncing the word 'must'. The 'u' sounded like something between an o and an e.
It was only eight o'clock in the morning and they were alone in their tiny office. The sky outside the window was grey, the low clouds were heavy with rain. As usual, Isabelle had brewed an excellent coffee, and they both had a cup while Gwen was poring over her long columns of numbers and values.
"It was nice," answered Gwen, checking something on her list. "He's a nice guy, Jon. And he has seen a lot of the world. Went abroad after school, you know, went to Tanzania, Argentina, Madagascar, and Iceland. Then he worked as a dragon keeper for some years. And…"
Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Alors – did he say anything about …," she jerked her head in the direction of the Death Chamber. She was sitting in front of a small tank that contained two brains, which were emanating thin silver threads.
"I think he wanted my help," Gwen grinned.
"Oh! And – will you help him?"
"Of course. I scratch his back, and he scratches mine."
"Comment?" Isabelle looked aghast. "What…? In the pub? In front of all people?"
Gwen laughed, and put her parchment aside. "It's only a figure of speech. I'll help him, and he'll help me – even though he doesn't know the latter…"
Someone knocked at the door.
"Enter," both witches chorused and Ademarus opened the door.
He went to Gwen's desk, and handed her the reports she had issued on the weekend. "Good job, Gwendolyn, thank you very much." He turned to Isabelle: "I made some tests with the Indicimaginis spell on the weekend." Gwen rolled her eyes, unseen by Ademarus. "We wanted to find a way to stabilise it when working on memories outside a brain. I am quite confident I've found one and suggest we continue our last weeks' experiments…"
"Ad, I want to help, too," Gwen interrupted. "You wanted to show me that spell."
He looked at her, apologetically, and coughed: "I am sorry, Gwendolyn, but Mrs Hill asked me to tell you to come to her office a nine o'clock."
"So?" she said. "I won't be away forever?" She pretended to be undisturbed by the fact that she was summoned before their boss.
Ad blushed, and this made Gwen more nervous than anything else. What was this about?
"I'll show you the spell as soon as you're free," he promised rather cryptically, not looking at her. Then he left the room as fast as he could.
Isabelle and Gwen looked at each other, dumbfounded.
"What does that mean?" Gwen frowned. She remembered this morning's tarot card – the Queen of Swords – and felt uneasy.
"J'sais pas," Isabelle replied. "But don't worry, I'll show you the spell as soon as I can. I am not as deft as Ad, but I can show you the basics. We can practise after work, si tu veux."
Gwen smiled at her. Isabelle was a dear.
~ooOOooOOoo~