Saturday, 7 May 1994

"Alone?"

They were standing on a flat green cliff where the first bright yellow dandelions showed up. Sea waves broke against the rocks in the depth and a cold wind was blowing. Amber Dancer ruffled his feathers, and Roberta fed him some Hippo treats, patting his crest.

"Why not? We've been flying for a long while, now you can try to ride him on your own."

Gwen fumbled nervously with her packet of cigarettes, but didn't dare to light one, as she thought that Rob wouldn't like it.

"You're right, we've been flying quite a while. Let's have a break," Gwen suggested, eyeing the cliffs, "it's very beautiful here."

"All right then, let's have our picnic here." Roberta extracted some acid-green chewing gums, took one and offered Gwen another. "Do you like the sea?"

"Yes, I live near the sea," Gwen took the proffered gum. "What is it?"

"Cheer-up gum. Makes you happy and perhaps – a bit braver."

"Really?" Gwen chewed the gum slowly, while they spread out a fluffy checkered blanket, and opened the bagpacks they had brought. Roberta just grinned.

Gwen poured some tea into their cups while Roberta put their sandwiches and some fruit on a plate. Then she sat down, took a cup and wrapped herself tightly into her thick woolen cloak.

"Do you know where we are exactly?" Gwen asked.

Rob smiled, her grey eyes shining in the sun. "Near Bude. Did you like the ride?"

"Yep," Gwen replied truthfully. Sitting behind Rob she had been able to relax more and more, appreciating the flight over the Cornish coast.

"I haven't seen you lately in the Ministry. Are you still working with Crow?"

Does she know that we help investigating the murder? To Gwen it seemed everyone in the Department of Mysteries assumed as much by now. She was now lying flat on her back, one arm behind her head, nibbling some grapes. Keeping as near as possible to the ground seemed the best way to take shelter from the wind.

Up to now they had succeeded in extracting one single memory. It had been awfully blurred, but Crow insisted that he was able to identify two people in it: Archibald and Jacobus, which wasn't such a big surprise, since they had been working together.

"Yes, we're still working together, but I go back to the Brain room occasionally," Gwen replied.

She had asked Agatha Hill to return with her own team more often, and stay in touch with their project, since the investigation of the murder seemed to take longer than expected, and her boss had agreed. One reason for this was that the victim's brain, not having been conserved like their research brains, needed more pauses than those (a golden rule in magic brain research was that breaks had to be observed to protect them from exhaustion).

"Do you like the sea, too?"

"Yes, it's lovely." Roberta tossed Amber Dancer some more treats.

"And how's your work going? Still dealing with those time-turners?"

"Yes, that's my area of expertise. We're trying to refine their settings. Yesterday we took an inventory. We always do so at the beginning of the month." She suddenly stopped and frowned.

"What is it?" Gwen took a bite of a tuna fish sandwich.

"Uh, got some problem because we're missing some time-turners." She took a sip of her tea.

"What!" Gwen knew that they were very rare and desired and that the Ministry controlled them strictly.

"Yes, please – please don't tell anyone," Rob shushed her. "That's why I have to return to the Time Room later today. Graham is recounting them just now, but I want to check again in the evening, and I'm afraid that I'm not mistaken."

"And what will happen if they're – lost?"

"Hem, I don't know. It's never happened during my time there." She stroke her short black hair. "I mean, accidents do happen, you know. Like the missing hour glass three years ago… And there are rumours that five years ago someone opened the door to the Love Room."

Gwen looked sceptically, but then remembered the runespoor fangs venom incident: "How many time-turners are missing?"

„Two. I suppose they will skin us alive when they get to know it. But I think we'll try to find them first. Now how do you feel? Want to take a ride on Amber?"

Gwen plucked up her courage and nodded. They approached Amber Dancer, and bowed obediently. Gwen climbed clumsily onto the hippogriff, then Roberta handed her the reins and smiled.

"You'll like it," she assured her, while Gwen gripped the plumage on the hippogriff's neck tighter.

Rob patted Amber Dancer, whispered something into his ears, and he took off immediately. Gwen suppressed a scream when they left the ground, clinging to the beast's neck as tightly as she could. The wind was roaring in her ears and underneath she could see the wide grey sea. Roberta was just a small grey dot in the green surroundings.

She was slipping down the beast's back, and desperately tried to clamber up again. Suddenly she felt Amber Dancer trying to help her by adjusting his body horizontally so she could sit more at ease.

Gwen sighed with relief. She was even able to release her grip on his neck a bit, and looked around cautiously. The sky was azure and the sun was shining. Gwen smiled proudly. She was nearly enjoying this!

~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~

Sunday, 14 May 1994

"Nine o'clock, time to get up," piped the round red alarm-clock on Gwen's bedside locker. Gwen yawned heartily, stretched her limbs and started to think. Today's the funeral.

Napoleon peered through the crack of her bedroom door and miaowed. When Gwen didn't react immediately, he pitter-pattered in. Who says that cats are pussyfooting? Gwen thought, still a bit tired. She really wasn't a morning person. Napoleon jumped on her bed, nudged her nose with his own gently, and collapsed beside her head, purring.

"All right, I've got your point," she laughed and propped herself up to get a better look at the alarm-clock. She took her glasses, cleaned them with a Tergeo spell and got up slowly. Then she opened the window and took a deep breath. The sky was grey, and some big black clouds started rolling in. It's going to rain, she thought.

Followed by Napoleon she traipsed to the kitchen, where the coal furnace was running, radiating a nice cosy warmth. Wookey was pouring steaming hot tea into Gwen's mug.

"Good morning, Wookey."

"Good morning, Miss."

While she was enjoying her bacon and eggs, and some toast, and Nap his favourite cat food, someone knocked outside. Gwen hastened to open the door. It was Isabelle, dressed in graceful black robes.

"Bonjour," she greeted her. "Oho, you're still in your pyjamas!"

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind," Gwen mumbled, "the funeral is at ten o'clock. Want to have breakfast with me?"

"Oh, I've already breakfasted with my children. And as they're going on a tour with their papa, je m'suis dit, alors I'll go to see Gwen and we can go to the funeral together."

"Nice idea, just let me finish this excellent breakfast. Do you fancy a cup of tea?"

"Mais oui."

Wookey beamed when Isabelle entered the kitchen, laid a second place in spite of Isabelle's protests, poured her some tea, and insisted on serving her some scrambled eggs. Gwen picked her dark-blue satin pouch containing her tarot cards, and drew a card without further ado.

"Are you sure it works if you don't concentrate properly?" Isabelle frowned.

"I can't help it this morning. I'll see in the evening. Let's consider it an experiment." Gwen contemplated the card showing one of the major Arcana, "Justice", a figure sitting between two grey pillars, holding a sword in her right and a pair of scales in her left hand. She wore a red gown and was sitting in front of a violet veil.

They hastened to finish their breakfast, trying in vain to prevent Wookey from serving them more tea.

After Gwen was finished in the bathroom, Isabelle helped her to decide what she should wear. There wasn't really much to chose from, let alone black robes, so they agreed on some dark aubergine-coloured ones. Gwen refused to magic them black. "I like that shade and I'm not sure I'll manage to re-Transfigurate it all right." At the last moment she put on her rock crystal pendant.

When they bid Wookey good-bye, the elf was running water in the sink to wash the dishes.

"Where is the portkey?" Isabelle asked, and Gwen pointed to an old plastic bottle lying on the ground.

"Ready?"

Isabelle nodded.

They both touched the bottle, and Gwen felt the weird sensation of being suddenly hooked behind the navel.

Their transport completed, they landed on a clearing near a small grove.

Several witches and wizards had already arrived, Gwen recognised Eleanor's long blonde hair, and the red-haired Lilian Scantlebury, the Planet Room manager. There were some other people, standing at her side. Gwen knew some of them by sight as they were Planet Room staff, the others were probably family or friends.

When Honoria, wearing black linen pants and tunic, and Ademarus, wearing his usual grey robes, arrived one after the other, a light drizzle started falling. Both were followed shortly afterwards by the elegant Vivi Gregorius, wearing noble anthracite robes flowing around her slim figure. An elegant shawl in the same colour covered her platinum blonde shock of hair.

Together they entered the grove, heading to a particularly beautiful beech where nearly the entire Death Chamber staff was already assembled. Tiny droplets of rain were speckling Alex Campbell's short white beard and Ivo Gilmour's spectacles. Mercia Borthwick, their team member, wore a black hat over her brown hair and had red eyes. Ivo Gilmour was patting her shoulder.

Manisha Cullen had applied just a pale lipstick, and not her usual bright red one. She was talking softly to Timothy Oakden, who looked tired and drawn, not at all his usual hale and hearty self. Manisha opened a black umbrella over their heads. Suplinius Crow was standing a bit separated beneath the beautiful beech, as did Jacobus Mayfield.

Suddenly a murmur could be heard, then all the attendants gathered behind the tree, where a small grave had been dug. A wood urn was standing beside it on a small pedestal. The dark clouds overhead began to thicken.

Silence fell, and an old witch in black robes started to play a lovely mournful tune on her harp, while two others held their umbrellas over her head to protect her from the drizzling rain. Tears were running down Eleanor's cheeks, and Gwen suddenly noticed Mrs Beresford and Jon standing in the background under an elder bush.

There was a slight commotion when Agatha Hill, their Head of the Department, wanted to start her eulogy, as Evelyn Anderson hurried to join the mourners, her face crimson, her long brown hair slightly tousled. "I am so sorry," she whispered, "dreadfully sorry". Suplinius Crow raised his eyebrows as high as they would go; Alex Campbell frowned at her.

Gwen was unable to concentrate to Hill's words, terms like committed, trustworthy and cooperative floated by, as she couldn't help observing the two Aurors, and what they were doing. Did they suspect anyone of those present? Cautiously, Gwen opened her own umbrella and tried to surreptitiously follow their glances. All of a sudden she noticed that she was even trying to read their minds, and she felt a bit ashamed.

Mrs Beresford was certainly watching Honoria. This is laughable, Gwen thought, Hon wouldn't hurt a fly. Jon seemed to observe the blond Timothy – he is the one who found the dead, poor Timothy, this seems to have shocked him more than he lets on – and Mayfield. So, even though they've released him, they still continue suspecting him. Jon's glance wandered to the blonde widow, then to the people standing at her side. Mrs Beresford's gaze suddenly met her own, and Gwen looked down at once.

A second harp playing followed, as did a second eulogy by a friend – or was it a member? – of the family. The urn was put into the ground, and then everyone passed by the grave to give their blessings or say their farewells.

The rain drops were getting bigger. Gwen felt like she was in a bad dream, as if she wasn't really there. She was glad that Isabelle was walking in front of her, radiating tranquillity in every step she took. Gwen shivered. I still can't believe it, she thought. But it has happened. Murder. In our midst. Eleanor was sobbing, Lilian was standing beside her, one arm around her shoulders, as one after the other expressed their condolences to the grieving widow. It seemed to go on forever.

A wind arose, and the rain started falling in torrents.

"Are you invited to the funeral reception?" Isabelle whispered in Gwen's ear, after they had offered their sympathies.

"N-no, I think it's just family and close friends." Gwen was trying to see where the Aurors had gone. The last she had seen of them was their condoling Eleanor. It seemed that they had left already.

"But je me suis pensé – since she asked you to accompany her the other day…"

"No, she didn't invite me, and that's fine with me. She's got enough on her plate."

As people were standing in groups again, Ademarus and Honoria joined Gwen and Isabelle.

"Anyone fancies a cup of tea or coffee?" asked Honoria.

At first nobody answered. Then Isabelle said calmly: "You're right. This will help us to recover."

Everyone nodded, even Ademarus who normally wasn't what you'd call sociable.

They said good-bye to Eleanor who thanked them profusely for coming, and then marched away on the muddy ground, trying to find Honoria's portkey, which would bring them to her house.

Before they all grabbed the old yellow t-shirt, which was Honoria's portkey, they saw a small figure in the far distance. Gwen squinted her eyes, dabbing at her glasses. That's Mabel Tancock, she thought, recognising the erect walk of the tall witch.

She'll probably say goodbye to her ex-husband after everyone has gone. Can't blame her.

~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~