The Brain Room was full of wizarding people.
Isabelle and Ademarus were working together on a brain, the French witch looking excited and tense, Ademarus wrinkling his brow in concentration. Honoria was talking animatedly to the platinum-blonde Vivi Gregorius who was standing beside a trolley full of prophecy globes. Bob, in his usual red overall, was carrying through the monthly maintenance of the brains in the big tank. He was bearing a tray in front of him, laden with vials and flacons. Firmin was sitting at one of the desks, scribbling something on a large parchment, a small tank with two brains in it standing at his side.
"Bonjour, Gwen!" Isabelle cheered at her when she approached, while Ademarus gave his usual absent-minded nod instead of a welcome.
"Mrs Beresford's been enquiring after you," Ad informed her.
"She looked rather stressed," Isabelle pointed out.
"I thought so." Gwen replied gloomily. "How's your work going?"
"You know that we've been able to prove that the Legilimens receives images transported by waves which I started calling 'empathic waves'," Isabelle beamed, proudly. "Now we've got documentary evidence, regarde ici."
She produced some rather blurred photographs which showed two brains and between them some sinus-shaped shining objects. "But that's not everything those waves contain. We think there's more to them," she explained, frowning at the brain in front of them. "We want to find out what else those waves contain."
"I like you giving them a name," Gwen chuckled. "Couldn't we call them the 'Gautier waves'? Sounds smart."
"But it was your idea, not mine," protested her colleague.
"You can't be serious," retorted Gwen. "Which wave would want to be called the 'Bale wave'?"
They laughed, and even Ademarus joined their mirth by giving a dry smile, even though his eyes betrayed that he was preoccupied by other thoughts.
Vivi, on garish red high heels with the rattling trolley in her wake, and Honoria, in her usual flowing earthy-coloured robes and adorned with amber stones, approached them.
"Have you all read the Daily Prophet?" Vivi asked, whispering. "Heard about the mess they made at Hogwarts?"
Isabelle, Ad and Gwen nodded. Isabelle and Ademarus were regular subscribers to the wizarding paper. Honoria looked mystified since she never read the newspaper, but only the Quibbler once in a while.
"Moi, I don't understand why it had to be a Hogwarts teacher and not the Aurors who caught Black," Isabelle wondered.
"And why in Merlin's name did the Aurors and the Minister of Magic let Black escape?" Ademarus frowned.
Gwen didn't say a word. Nobody of them knew that she had been in Hogsmeade at that time. She hadn't had the time to tell Isabelle; and Ademarus, who had approved her leave, didn't know where she had gone, only that she had wanted to meet Jonathan.
"I was wondering why people in the Atrium were standing around whispering," Honoria chuckled. "What has happened? Could you please fill me in?"
As Vivi started to explain what Rita Skeeter had written in today's Prophet, Mrs Beresford opened the door from the Death Chamber and looked at the gathered group.
She glared at Gwen, and the latter, taking the hint, rushed towards her.
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~
Mrs Beresford closed the door to Dusk's and Mayfield's office with a bang.
"Sit down, please," she pointed to a chair.
Gwen obeyed. "Good morning, Mrs Beresford, what's the matter?"
The Auror sat down. "You were there," she picked up a quill, drumming its point on her desk. "Isn't it a bit strange that you are always in the thick of things?"
"What do you mean?" Gwen crossed her arms in front of her chest, frowning indignantly and occluding her mind even more than usual – just in case.
The Auror dropped her quill to count on her fingers: "The day of the murder, accompanying the victim's widow, listening in the Hall of Prophecies, yesterday in Hogsmeade."
The woodworm started singing. "I went to the wood and got it; I sat down to look for it. And brought it home because I couldn't find it. I went…"
Mrs Beresford turned on her seat and flung the quill in the direction of the plant. It gave a shrill squeak. Gwen froze, then checked herself.
"What's that about Hogsmeade?" she retorted. "You gave me your permission!"
Mrs Beresford leant forward on the desk and asked in her deep rasping voice: "What do you have to tell me?"
"Nothing," Gwen exclaimed defensively. "Well, I was in Hogsmeade all the time. That's the absolute truth." She held up both hands. "You can trace my shopping activities if you like. And in the afternoon and evening I was together with Jonathan. The only one who was at Hogwarts was my colleague Roberta. And it was her who informed us about Black's escape."
"I interrogated Miss Dunphy this morning." Mrs Beresford sat back again.
Gwen wondered whether Roberta had finally told her about the hippogriff or not. "Where is Jon, by the way?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"Came back this morning," the Auror grumbled. "He's interrogating Macnair, by the way. Ever after you sent us your interim report about the victim's memory of Macnair we've been keeping an eye on him, but couldn't arrest him. Seems that he has friends or protectors in high places. But now with that escape business… he being there in the morning, and Black gone in the evening. I ask you!" She coughed.
The woodworm started singing his song again, but this time very softly.
"I want you to tell me exactly what you did the whole day out there, and what Miss Dunphy told you and Mr Hope in the evening."
Gwen was glad to have strengthened her mental defences beforehand, and plunged into a concise summary of her day at Hogsmeade, and Roberta's narrative about Buckbeak's release, but was careful to not mention Black's escape on Buckbeak, as she had promised her colleague.
"Where do you think Black is now?" Gwen finished, considering it a good idea to ask questions instead of being asked them.
"He could be anywhere," Mrs Beresford shrugged. "I assume he's gone abroad. More secure for him. Even to a ruthless wizard like him it must have been a shock to have been nearly handed over to the Dementors. As we haven't found any Apparition traces, I am convinced that he had help. I wonder whether he will come back one day to go after Harry Potter. He has no scruples…"
Gwen looked at the clock on the wall. "Where is Mr Crow?" she asked Mrs Beresford, who had finally turned to her own work, which meant littering her desk with a lot of memos, parchments, and newspaper cuttings.
Mrs Beresford looked up. "I don't know."
Gwen went to the desk where the tank containing the victim's brain was standing, took off the cloth they usually used to cover it and observed it with a sad expression. Why can't you tell me what happened?
She took out her wand and paused to think. The new spell had worked better than their usual Extracting method, that was true, but she wasn't satisfied. Maybe there were other more effective possibilities. Perhaps I should try a completely different spell? she wondered. She ran her finger through her brown curls.
"I'll be upstairs in the library," she informed Mrs Beresford. "Perhaps there are other possibilities to get information from this brain."
Mrs Beresford gave a short affirmative grunt, not looking up from her work, while the woodworm was humming happily.
Out of habit Gwen passed through the Brain Room to get to the Circular Room. Isabelle was putting a brain back into the big tank. Apparently she wanted it to get a pause. One iron rule of the Brain Room was that breaks had to be observed to protect the brains from exhaustion.
"Hi Isabelle, is Ad in his office?" Perhaps Ademarus could give her a hint as to what books she should be looking for.
"Non, ma chère, he's not in at the moment." Isabelle shrugged. Then she came closer: "Did that Auror give you a hard time?" she whispered.
"Yes… and no," Gwen grinned. "I think Jonathan is right, she seems harsh, but she's ok. I'm going upstairs to the library now."
"Oh!" Isabelle thought for a moment and looked around. "Can I go with you? I could consult 'Brain Research and Neuroscience' by Wulfo Hopkins," she smiled.
She put the cover on the tank, dried her hands and linked arms companionably with Gwen. "Allons-y, let's go!"
~ooOOoo~
The cool female voice announced the Divisions of Level Five. They were leaving the lift, when Isabelle asked: "And what about Norma?" She was clearly enjoying this, by now, rare opportunity to have a chat with Gwen.
"Funny you asking that right now. This morning I've got another letter from her," Gwen sighed.
"What does she write?"
"Like always: She wants me to go and see her. Wants me to talk to her." Gwen answered. "Or rather, she wants to talk to me. I wonder whether I wasn't being clear enough when I left her."
"Ah, non, j'crois pas," Isabelle soothed her. "You said good-bye. You left. You got your own place. What else should you have done?"
Gwen drew a resigned breath.
They opened the large oak door that lead to the Ministry of Magic's library. Gwen liked the dim, dusty room of the large Ministry library with its thousands of books, tomes and magazines on towering high wooden shelves. The air was musty, but the silence and warmth were somehow soothing and comfortable. Some wizards and witches seemed to think that it was also a nice place to take a nap.
Today the young dark-haired Corvin was in charge of guarding the library and book lending.
"Hi there," he beamed at them, "nice to see you. Can I see your ID cards?"
They produced the blank black cards made from thick parchment, which Gwen had also used to get her floo powder. Using the appliance that looked like a square piece of glass in a metal frame on four tiny silvery legs, he verified their data and whether they had any books in their possession (which they had not). Then he let them enter the library.
They went straight to the Research section. While Isabelle flipped through a big leather-bound tome, Gwen traversed the long shelf, somehow hoping for a flash of intuition.
"Perhaps you shouldn't even read her letters," Isabelle whispered suddenly, continuing her former conversation. Gwen turned around, a book in her right hand, and joined her at the desk.
"What did you say?"
"C'que j'veux dire, reading her letters, only opening her letters means that you are still at her disposal, tu vois? Just send them back unopened, "return to sender"."
"Sounds cruel." Gwen whispered in return.
"No, it's being straightforward and consequent."
"I'm sorry for her," Gwen admitted. "She's always been so jealous. Without reason, mind you," she added hastily. "Well, you know my attitute towards monogamy, but I've always been true to her. I mean, seeing that it was much more difficult for her – as a Lesbian, with me, you know."
Isabelle nodded: "But she knew. You needn't have pity, she wouldn't want that either. You, heed my advice for once and you'll see she'll give up. Perhaps you'll be able to be friends at some time in the future – when she has let go."
Gwen got up with a sigh, closed her eyes and put a finger randomly on a book in the shelves. "I'll try, Isabelle."
She opened her eyes again and looked which book she had chosen: "Oh, "Rekindling Memories of the Dead" by Marjory Witch, what's that?" She flicked through the brittle pages. "Hem, looks a bit old-fashioned, um, um, black candles, incense sticks and the dark moon, but you never know…"
~ooOOooOOooOOooOOoo~