Rachel arrived at the office for the Department of Mysteries on Monday morning, feeling slightly jittery. She'd talked over the decision with Theo as well and he had agreed that as long as she wasn't overscheduling herself that there was no reason she couldn't join the Unspeakables.
She tried to let herself inside the offices and found that the door wouldn't open for her, which she supposed wasn't terribly surprising. The Unspeakables wouldn't let just anyone peek inside the inner workings of the Department. She knocked on the door, wondering if there was even anyone to answer. If no one did, she could send a Patronus to Patrick.
The door opened and a woman peered out. Her grey hair was tied back and she wore spectacles low on her nose.
"Hello, my name is Rachel Snow. I was hoping to speak with Department Head Sumner at his invitation," Rachel said, feeling awkward. She didn't usually have to introduce herself.
The woman's eyebrows arched and she looked mildly amused. "Come to join the madness?"
"Er, yes. I think so."
"Potions, right?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes, that's my speciality."
"Well, we can always use another potioneer. Come on, I'll take you to Patrick," she said, moving further inside so Rachel could follow her. "You do sleeping potions, I have that right?"
"Yes, that's been my primary focus for the past decade."
"You'll probably want to join the team for potions that have an effect on the mind then, unless you're looking to branch out?"
"Well, I still have more work I'd like to do in sleeping potions, and my Mastery focus was non-traditional healing potions, but I'm open to looking into a variety of areas of research," she hedged.
The woman nodded. "Most people take a few years to define their focus anyway, unless they come in with one." She rapped her knuckles on the doorframe of Patrick's office. "Found this one waiting outside. She said you were supposed to meet her."
"Is it ten?" Patrick asked, looking around his office before pulling out a pocket watch.
"Five past. Get a proper clock already," the woman said before leaving.
Rachel was mildly bemused. She knew most departments in the Ministry were a little more casual behind closed doors, but she'd never heard anyone speak to a Department Head like that before. "May I come in?"
"Yes, please do. My apologies," Patrick said, standing and beginning to shift things around on his desk. "This is the problem with promoting an Unspeakable to do a Department Head's job. I'm afraid I'm more interested in research than I am in administration. I swear I'd lose my own head if Liesel wasn't keeping track of me. That's Liesel by the way, I'm not sure if she introduced herself. She's my second in the Department. Come, have a seat. Uh, let me clear a chair."
"Does the Department not have clerks?" Rachel asked.
"No, no clerks here. Unspeakables only. Section heads wind up doing most of the administration work, you're responsible for your own filing. I mean, I assume you are joining us?" he asked, looking up as he cleared a stack of parchment off of a chair.
"I am, on a part time basis. I still have my work in the Wizengamot I need to look after," Rachel said, hoping that wouldn't be a deal breaker.
"Good, and yes of course. I know your work in the Wizengamot is important and Rufus and Amelia would never forgive me if I squirreled you away down here. Come, have a seat, and we'll get started. Read closely, this is very important," Patrick said, handing her a thick scroll of parchment.
Rachel sat down and unrolled the parchment, finding it to be her contract. She began reading, wanting to know exactly what she was getting herself into. Some of it was a little concerning. There was a section stating she would be obliviated of certain knowledge - which it defined as a threat to magical peoples or magical Britain - and that she could request to be obliviated of any research that she felt was too dangerous to carry in her mind. There was also a provision that she would be obliviated of certain knowledge if she chose to leave the Unspeakables.
The section on healthcare was extended, indicating they had both a Healer and a Mind Healer on site to take care of injuries and accidents as they occurred, and that she accepted that there was a possibility that she could be seriously injured or killed during the course of her duties. "How often do people die in the Unspeakables?" she asked.
"Pardon?" Patrick asked, looking up from his work.
"How often do people die here?" she repeated.
"Oh, not that often. I mean it does happen, but not that often. More often it's people disappearing or changing dramatically, but since you're not planning on studying time or death, you'll probably be alright."
Rachel decided that was a fact she was keeping to herself because she could absolutely imagine Severus' expression upon hearing that. She went back to reading.
There was a section on disclosing information from the Department and on publishing. Even within the Department she wasn't allowed to share information on certain classified projects. Before she disclosed anything she needed a specific document granting an exception from the Department Head, and research papers and inventions went through a small board before it was decided if they were allowed to be published, and if not, what level of classification they held. That would be slightly annoying, but she really did not expect anyone to have a problem with her sleeping potion research.
"Have we scared you off yet?" Patrick asked as she set down the scroll after finishing reading it.
"No. I'll sign," she said. There wasn't anything in there she couldn't live with.
He handed her a blood quill and she signed and dated at the bottom. As always, when she wasn't using a charmed quill for handwriting, her signature was atrocious. She would have brought a vial of her Tremor Steadying potion, which she had invented a few years ago, if she had thought of it. The potion only worked for a few hours at a time, and it wasn't an everyday potion, but she took it when she particularly needed her hands to be steady for a project.
"Very good," Patrick said after examining it for a moment. He dropped the scroll into a filing cabinet and motioned her up. "Let's get you settled in the offices and then tomorrow I will take you into the Department itself and tell you about your project."
She followed him back into the main office area, though she was curious about what her project was. "Is it potions related? My project, I mean."
"Not this one, no, but you can do potions research at the same time. In general we put people with the larger group of their specialty when they first begin, but if you'd like, we can seat you directly with the people working on mind altering potions?"
"Just the general potions group for now, I think. I haven't picked a specialty yet really. I'd like some time to see what my options are before I decide."
"That's just fine. Here we go. To your left you see the workspace for our people who work with time. To your right is the enchanted artifacts team," he said as they walked.
The section for time had several desks gathered together but no one was at them. The enchanted artifacts area was jam packed with a variety of things and had several people working at desks or speaking quietly.
"Up here, again to the left, is our mind group. To the right is spell crafting."
There were small individual offices for the mind group and Rachel recognized Esme Lloyd, who she'd met on a few separate occasions. The spell crafting group was spread out over a large area and Rachel saw rooms at the back for the safe testing of spells.
"Ah, here we go. On your left is our assorted smaller departments, life, death, magic, and those sorts where we only have a few specialists for each. On your right is potions. I'll take you to Mirabel; she's the section head for the general potions group. Mira!"
A woman with black hair and tan skin joined them. "Ah, I was hoping we'd get you. I'm Mirabel. Just shout Mira and I'll come running unless I'm bent over a cauldron. You're with the general group?"
"For now," Rachel said. "It's nice to meet you."
"I'll leave you in Mira's capable hands. If you ever need something just drop by my office. In fact, come by tomorrow morning and I'll get you situated on your project," he said.
"Will I be able to get in the door?" Rachel asked, since that seemed relevant.
"I'll have Liesel add you to the wards," Mirabel said, waving Patrick away. "Let's find you a desk."
Rachel followed Mirabel through the groups of desks.
"I won't bother naming our subsections for now, you'll figure it out as you meet people. I'll show you the door to the brewing areas and the door to the Department Archives and let you find your feet," Mirabel said, nodding to various people as they passed small groups of desks.
"How many potioneers does the Department have?" Rachel asked. The Department was much bigger than she'd been imagining.
"Nearly thirty now; Potions is a big field for the Unspeakables. The only section that's bigger is Spell Crafting. Is there a reason you didn't specialize in spell crafting? Usually people who are more powerful do so. Potions is generally thought of as a lower powered field and you're said to be exceptionally powerful."
Rachel felt herself flush. "I am fairly powerful," she began.
"Not fairly. There are less than fifty known elemental witches and wizards in the entire world," Mira said.
"I just enjoy potions. It's what I'm interested in. I've dabbled in spell crafting, but it's just not the same."
Mira smiled. "That's what I like to hear."
"It is?" she asked, a little surprised by that. It had sounded like Mirabel wanted her to do spell crafting.
"Yes. When you have the ability to do something else, but you choose the thing that you actually want to do. That's powerful. People who are forced into things don't last for very long," Mirabel said, coming to a stop by a group of desks. "I'm going to put you next to Cyril. He's a chatterbox, but he can help you figure things out. He's been here nearly two decades now and still hasn't picked a specialty. Which is fine, sometimes it's good to have a wide breadth of knowledge instead of a single focus. It lets you see places where you can apply practices from one field onto another. We'll just move Cyril's things back to his own desk."
Rachel helped Mirabel move a few stacks of books and potions journals to the already overcrowded desk next to hers. "Anything I should know up front? Uniforms? Department practices?"
"Uh, no uniforms. In fact, wear clothes that you don't mind if something happens to them. I know you'll be going into the Department itself and not just the offices, and sometimes things can get a little dicey in there. Anything you'd use for brewing should be fine. If an experiment is volatile, no matter how many precautions you take, bring someone else with you. Anyone in the potions group is happy to come along, mostly because we all enjoy seeing things explode. Report accidents immediately. There's a form, you should have some in your desk. And we require everyone to be out of the Department by eight. I know we all want to stay and get more research in, but actually go home and eat and sleep. I think that's everything, though there's probably something I'm forgetting."
Rachel nodded. "I'm not sure if Patrick mentioned, but I'm part time, since I'm still doing things with the Wizengamot."
"That's fine. Come and go as you need to. There's a sign in sheet for when you go in the Department itself, just sign out when you come out so we don't have to send people searching for you. Oh, and don't brew if there's no one in the potions group here, just in case," Mirabel said. "Come on, I'll show you the brewing areas and where the archives are."
"Thank you," she said. She found that she was actually really excited by all of this. It felt like the possibilities were just opening up in front of her. She hadn't felt like this since she'd spent the months working on her improved sleeping potion and that had been three years ago. She followed Mirabel deeper into the offices, eager to see what there was to see.
"How was your day?" Theo asked as they sat down for dinner.
"Well, I think I'm now an Unspeakable," Rachel said, raising her eyebrows. "We'll see how long it takes for the newspapers to find out." It was sort of a game they played within the group to see how long it took various pieces of information about Rachel to make it to the front page of the Daily Prophet. Sometimes it only took overnight. Sometimes it never showed up at all.
"Unspeakable Snow has a nice ring to it," he said with a smile. "Too bad they won't be calling you that in the Wizengamot chambers; I can just imagine some of their faces."
There was a rather complicated and convoluted system of titles within magical Britain and the Ministry, and people were either referred to by their highest title in open settings or their more relevant title within departments. So while Draco was Auror Malfoy when he was in the MLE, he was Wizengamot Member Malfoy in the Wizengamot chambers and on social occasions. Rachel's titles now included Potions Mistress, Unspeakable, and Wizengamot Member, though outside of the Unspeakables and the Potions Guild, most people would simply default to Wizengamot Member Snow.
"Well, if they aren't spooked by the fact that I killed the Dark Lord or that I can do elemental magic, I'm not sure being an Unspeakable is going to faze them," she said, though she did enjoy when people who were arguing with her abruptly and belatedly remembered who they were arguing with. There was something powerful about just being able to sit there with an arched eyebrow and waiting until the other person ran out of steam and then their expression as they recalled who she was. It didn't work with everyone, but it had happened a number of times.
Their food appeared and Rachel was happy to see that it was fish. She'd found that she was fond of a number of fish dishes.
"That's true enough, but Unspeakables have a reputation. It won't happen right away, but people you don't know will start treating you with a little more respect and wariness," Theo said, taking a drink from his glass of wine.
"I don't really need them to treat me with more respect and wariness. Besides, given what I saw today, I think the reputation of the Unspeakables is exaggerated," she said as she dug into her meal.
"I don't suppose you can tell me what you saw?" he asked, looking curious.
"Mostly just people being people. Being researchers. From what I can tell everyone is enthusiastically obsessed with their projects. Hermione would love it if she wasn't so dedicated to being a curse specialist. You probably would like it too."
"I can't say I'm not tempted, but I'm not sure the Unspeakables are about to give me an invitation."
"Why not? You were second in our class, you have a Mastery in Transfiguration and head a department in the Spell Crafting Guild. The Unspeakables have a number of spell crafters," she pointed out.
"True, but I actually have a fairly good relationship with the Guild and most of the Unspeakables don't. I'm surprised it's not the same in the Potions Guild."
"I think it is, but I don't exactly have the best relationship with the Potions Guild either." She got along well with Ethan and Miranda, and still kept in regular contact with Emlyn, and she attended the Guild events, and she published and had her potions tested. Otherwise she didn't have all that much to do with the Potions Guild. She'd found people there to be very petty and small minded. Instead of working together they stepped on each other for their research.
"Yes, but the difference being that the Potions Guild would love to have you - you're the one who rejected them," Theo said. "Anything else you can tell me about the Unspeakables?
"Well, apparently I will have a project, but I don't know what it is and of course I can't say anything about it. For now I'm with the general potions group until I pick a specialty. And I only got a peek in the archives today, but they're enormous," she said. "Oh, and my contract says that they can obliviate me of knowledge that is a threat to magical people or magical Britain."
"Sounds pretty standard for the Unspeakables. I don't know that you're likely to encounter such a thing working with potions, but I understand why they have the provision."
"I think the hardest part is not going to be able to talk with you and Severus about the things I'm learning," she said, feeling a little guilty about that.
"Also understandable, but they're called Unspeakables for a reason. I think at some point you're going to hear something and it will be abundantly clear why those things have to stay within the Department. I mean, look at it this way: it's better than people trying to do that research independently. There's good reasons for the bans on some kinds of research, people were being killed," Theo said.
"Necessary, but still hard. I like sharing with you," she said. "How was your day?"
"Oh, the usual. I'm making good progress on my review paper, so that much is nice. I'd like to publish in the spring, I think, assuming no one in my department murders each other before then," Theo said with a shrug and a smile.
"How likely is murder?" she asked, both amused and thankful that it wasn't her department.
"Depends on the day. At least if there is a murder I can give Draco and Ron a suspect pool straight off."
They both laughed, Rachel feeling herself slowly relax now that she was home. As much as her work was important, she often found her time at the Wizengamot to be stressful except for when she was engaged in research. Researching proposals was really the only part of being a Wizengamot member that she actually enjoyed.
"Do we have anything these next few weeks? People we need to meet with?" Theo asked as they finished eating.
"Dinner with the Minister a week and a half from now. I'm going to introduce my proposal to the faction at some point in the near future, and we might need to have a few follow-up dinners with them before we move on to the general Wizengamot," she said, thinking about her calendar. The Wizengamot would meet nearly three weeks from now, and then she needed to start pushing her House Elf legislation. She didn't think it was likely she could reach everyone before the holidays, but she'd start with the people she knew and work her way out. First she needed to make certain her faction was fully onboard. "Anything for you?"
"I'm taking the department out on Saturday evening, you're welcome to join us of course, but it will be fairly rowdy," he said.
"Pub?" she checked.
"Yes. We're not a very cultured group, but if that's what makes them happy, then I can work with that." Theo shrugged.
"I think I'll pass." She didn't really enjoy going out in public, even less so with a group that she wasn't very comfortable with.
"Not a problem, just wanted you to know you're invited. Are we done for the night? Want to watch a movie or something?" he asked.
"I need to check on my cauldrons, then I can have a night off," she agreed. It had been a long day and she was ready for a break.
"I'll get set up. Popcorn?"
"No, thank you. I'm full." Rachel yawned and got to her feet. She'd change her clothes, check her cauldrons, and then curl up on the sofa with Theo and watch a movie. Not bad for a Monday.
On Tuesday the door to the Unspeakable offices let Rachel inside just by her touch. She supposed that made it official: she was an Unspeakable. She waved to Liesel as she passed, Liesel nodding to her before returning to her work. Patrick's door was open and he had a pile of parchment spread around him on the floor as he crouched in the middle of it.
Rachel watched, curious about what Patrick was studying, but figuring that she wasn't allowed to ask.
He set a piece of parchment in another stack and then looked up. "You're here already? What time is it?"
"Just past eight," she said, suspecting this was a recurring problem for Patrick.
"Ah, well." Patrick stood. "I'll just get you set up then. Everything was alright with Mira yesterday? She showed you the Archives?"
"Yes, Mirabel was very helpful. She showed me the Archives, they look great," Rachel said. She was excited to go back in and explore.
"Just don't get lost. Follow the directory if you need help getting back out. Decreasing file numbers lead back to the doors," he said. "Unfortunately navigating the Department of Mysteries itself isn't quite so simple."
Rachel recalled the entryway to the Department of Mysteries containing a circular room with unlabeled identical doors, but she didn't want to reveal to Patrick that she'd seen it in case he didn't already know about her visions. "What should I know about navigating the Department of Mysteries?" she settled for asking.
"Come, it's easier to show you than it is to explain," Patrick said. "Or rather, I'll explain while we navigate."
She followed him out of his office, through the main office area, back into the corridor and then they went down the black tile hallway.
"Go ahead and open the door, let's make sure it recognizes you," he said when they reached the black door with the silver handle.
Feeling odd again, and remembering how the Dark Lord had tried to lure her here, Rachel put her hand on the silver handle and felt something strange. She stood there, trying to probe back at what she was feeling. Recognition wards, yes, but something else too. "What's on this door? What am I feeling?"
"Feeling?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"There's a recognition ward, but there's something I don't recognize probing at my magic," she said.
"You can feel that just from the door? I'd heard you could feel certain types of magic, but I'd never taken it seriously."
"Heard from whom?" Rachel asked. She'd tried to keep that private as much as possible. It certainly had never been published in the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly.
"Just the various news sources that make their way down here. What does it feel like, exactly?"
"It's reaching for my mind, not for my blood. Usually recognition and identity are done by blood or by wand." Whatever it was wasn't stymied by her occlumency shield, which was interesting, so it stood to reason that it wasn't exactly legilimency.
"Ah, that would be the Department herself. She's seeking to know you, you're a new mind. This is what I meant about navigating the Department of Mysteries," he said.
"Herself? The Department is sentient? Like Hogwarts?"
"Ah, well, somewhere along the line someone started referring to the Department as her and it stuck, we don't believe the Department actually has a gender identity. And not sentient or sapient, not exactly. Aware, yes, but not a mind like our own. As far as we can tell the Department does not have a soul."
Rachel paused and thought of the age of the Ministry. "The Department was here first, before the Ministry?"
"Well, not in the form that it is in now, but yes, the Department was built around what was happening here and then the Ministry formed around that. Try opening the door and see if she'll let you in. We have this problem from time to time. Ask nicely," Patrick suggested.
Putting her hand back on the handle, Rachel reached out toward the presence she felt. "Hello, my name is Rachel Snow. I'd like to come inside to do research, please," she said in her mind. She felt the presence press against her again, seeming to assess her, and then the doorknob twisted in her hand and the door opened.
"There we go," Patrick said.
"How was the Dark Lord able to get through the door when he came here for the prophecy?" she asked.
"That's a good question, and she's not telling. I can only assume he made some sort of accord with her," Patrick said as they stepped inside the circular room with twelve doors. "Perhaps he had something that she wanted."
"What sort of things does the Department want?"
"Novel experiences, mostly. She likes new things, new ideas, new research. From time to time you might have the sensation of being watched in here, that's just her. Remember to sign in and out, every time you enter and exit the Department, that way we know if someone is missing," he said, moving to a book and writing his and her names down and the time that they entered. "Now, the tricky part. Each of these doors leads somewhere, but not to the same place every time. Do you understand?"
"The rooms move, like in Hogwarts?" she checked.
"Not exactly. More like the connections move. As far as we can tell the rooms stay where they are, but what door connects them at any given moment is in flux. As the Department gets to know you, you'll start to wind up where you're trying to be fairly quickly. In the meantime, expect to wander a bit before you get to where you want to go. Some have theorized that this is the Department's way of getting to know us, or the Department's way of showing us all of her possibilities. Since I'm with you today, it shouldn't take more than two or three doors to get to where we're going," Patrick explained.
Rachel stopped herself from asking how the Dark Lord went straight to the Hall of Prophecy, she shouldn't know that. But she was curious. And she was curious about how much direct communication with the Department was possible. She followed him through a door and they wound up in a room where half of it seemed to be missing. There was just a strange darkness looming, the tiles in the floor along the edge having fallen away.
"Ah, stay away from the void, please. It's best to go through this room quickly," Patrick said.
"What is the void for?" Rachel asked, peering at it as they hurried through the room. "Where does it go?"
"We don't know. Nothing that goes in there ever comes back and it has been here as long as the Department has. Occasionally we expand the room to keep a safe path through it, but it is slowly growing."
Rachel found that to be some mix of exciting and terrifying: a void to the unknown, right there inside the Ministry! They entered another room, this one containing several large tanks of murky liquids. "What is this?"
"A project of a former Unspeakable. Mostly we're just keeping them alive to see how long their lifespan is. It's been three hundred and seventeen years so far. They'll speak to you in your mind, but we can't really let them go free, they are frighteningly carnivorous and require a special balance of fluid," Patrick said, leading her through the gloom between the slightly luminescent tanks.
Rachel saw some shadows moving inside and decided she didn't want a closer look. She already had plenty of nightmares without carnivorous telepathically talking aquatic monsters joining them.
"Yes. Here we are. Thank you," Patrick said, glancing up as they went into another room. "Here is where you will be working."
The room was much smaller than the others they had seen so far. There was a wooden desk and a wooden chair, with a hardcover book resting on the desk. There was a shelf that contained vials of shimmering liquids. There was a large table, and inlaid in the table was a basin in some sort of reflective black stone that almost looked like obsidian. She stepped closer and saw that there were runes engraved into the stone, but she only recognized a handful. "Death. Birth. Punishment. Sacrifice. Mind or memory, depending on context," she said, pointing them out as she went.
"Very good. You've been keeping up with your Elder Futhark," Patrick said. "Do you know what this is?"
Rachel took another look around the room and realized what the vials reminded her of, particularly in connection to a stone basin. "It's a pensieve, but I've never seen one that looks like this before."
"Correct again," he said, looking pleased. "This is called the Morsius Pensieve. Do you know what it does?"
She'd still never found the time to do more than a cursory study of latin roots but she recognized 'mors' well enough, particularly since 'death' was also carved into the pensieve. She moved closer and took another look at the pensieve, knowing enough by now to not actually touch magical objects until she was certain about what they did. The carving of punishment and sacrifice so close together concerned her. She also expected that this was Patrick testing her, seeing what she could put together based on given clues. "If I had to guess, I'd say that it shows the memories of dead people," she finally said, also wanting to say that was impossible, but over the years she'd learned not to throw around the word 'impossible' too casually in the magical world.
"Good. That is indeed what the Morsius Pensieve does, under very specific conditions. We're not entirely sure how old the pensieve is, or who carved it, but it came into the possession of the Wizard's Council some time in the 1200s. They used it as a punishment for murderers."
"What do you mean?" she asked, not wanting to guess at this stage, though she was growing more wary about this entire proceeding.
"The Morsius Pensieve can only be used by someone who has killed someone personally, either directly by spell or physically. The person using the pensieve will then see the life of the person they killed, with the intent that they experience remorse and understanding of the person they killed," Patrick explained.
"You want me to view memories about the Dark Lord," she realized out loud. They didn't want to study her, they wanted to study the Dark Lord. She just happened to be the conduit.
"Yes, we do, though I entirely understand it will not be a pleasant experience for you. Our goal is to understand You-Know-Who. We want to understand why he became a dark lord, with the intention of stopping more people from becoming dark lords. Eventually, when Grindelwald is on his deathbed, we will have someone kill him so that we can do a similar assessment of his life."
Rachel frowned down at the pensieve, understanding the punishment and sacrifice carvings now. "I thought I was going to be doing potions research."
"And you will, but this project is a high priority. I know you're aware of the cultural divide in magical Britain because I see you working to try to correct it. Right now we are weak. We've had four wars in the space of a century and we are vulnerable to another powerful witch or wizard taking advantage of that. Britain cannot go on as it has, and I believe you know that," Patrick said, sounding oddly impassioned.
The thing was, Rachel did understand that. She'd been worried about the possibility of another war ever since the last war had ended. The truth was that the foundations of magical Britain could not endure another war that took ten percent of their population. Hogwarts had an ever smaller student body, though Rachel's last year at Hogwarts had the smallest student population since Hogwarts had been divided into Houses. The Wizengamot was younger now than it had ever been, with six of them under the age of thirty five. The MLE was still operating at lower than functional capacity, several departments in the Ministry were smaller than they should be, and other training programs had reported they were having difficulty replacing people who wanted to retire.
"How will these memories help?" she asked.
"We want you to write down what you see in detail. We're hoping to understand what set Tom Riddle on this path, so we can prevent more people from following that path. We hope to do the same with Grindelwald, and we have a few other recordings of lives of other, less successful, dark lords and ladies. If we can understand what is happening, that is the first step to prevent it from happening again."
Rachel could see some of the logic in that, but she also wasn't expecting to come across a moment that made the Dark Lord the Dark Lord. She didn't think people worked like that, not exactly. But maybe there was something. Maybe with this they could understand how a half-blood muggle raised boy had convinced a group of pureblood elitists to follow him. If the Dark Lord could do it, it stood to reason other people could too. If they understood how, maybe they could caution people against falling for that sort of thing. "Alright," she said, consigning herself to the task. After all, she had wanted to help, and maybe this would help.
"I'm grateful, and I do understand the sacrifice I am asking you to make. There's no need to rush it, one memory a day will be plenty. You'll use one of those vials for each memory. Pour it into the basin, add three drops of your own blood, and then view the memory. When you're done, write it down with as much detail as you can. Remember to sign yourself out when you leave the Department. Someone will come looking for you if you're not out by five. Questions?" Patrick asked.
Rachel shook her head. She thought it was fairly straightforward. "What if I run out of vials?"
"Let Liesel know when you're running low, she'll arrange for some more to be brought here."
"How do I get back out of the Department?" she checked.
"Just keep following the doors out and try not to touch anything. Sometimes thinking the word 'out' in the direction of the Department will help. Not to worry, eventually you'll stumble across someone and they'll help you get out if you need the help."
She wasn't entirely reassured, but she figured she'd managed more difficult things in her life.
"Alright then. I'll let you get to work," Patrick said, turning and leaving her alone.
Rachel sat at the desk and drummed her fingers on the wood. This was not something she really wanted to do. But he had said she only needed to do a memory a day. That wasn't terrible. And it couldn't be all of the Dark Lord's memories, otherwise she'd be here for seventy years. She would view a memory, then she would find a way out of the Department, and then she'd explore the Archives until lunch time. Then she'd go back to the Wizengamot. She could do that.
She checked the book and found that it was blank. She supposed that was where she was supposed to write down the memories. It was a good thing she kept her charmed quills with her by habit. Deciding to get on with it, Rachel stood and retrieved one of the vials. It looked very much like other memories that she had seen in pensieves. She wondered what it was, exactly, since it obviously wasn't a memory they had gathered. She wanted to pour it in and see what would happen if she touched it without adding her blood, but she also knew better than to experiment with artifacts, especially not when she was alone.
After pouring the contents of the vial into the pensieve, she conjured a silver needle and poked her index finger tip on her left hand. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. She pulled out her wand and used it to heal the pinprick. For whatever reason, she'd never been able to get healing to work without her wand.
The blood had intermingled with the shimmering memory liquid. Rachel had a brief hope that this wouldn't actually work, and then leaned in and touched the liquid. There was the familiar dark whirling sensation of entering a pensieve, and then she found herself in a cold room that was somewhat poorly lit.
There were three people inside, none of them the Dark Lord, or anyone who might be the Dark Lord.
"Push," one of the women said.
Rachel moved around to see what was happening and it became clear. That was Merope Gaunt on a bed, in labor, her face pale and strained. There were two women attending her, one older and one younger. Rachel thought the younger one was the woman in charge of the orphanage, the one Professor Dumbledore had shown her in his own memory of when he took Tom Riddle his Hogwarts letter.
The delivery happened quickly and Rachel couldn't help but grimace. She hadn't been present when Hannah or Astoria had given birth and now she was glad she hadn't been. She was never, ever having children. Not just because of that, but still.
Before long they had cleaned up the baby and bundled it into a blanket. Tom Riddle was red in the face with a small shock of black hair.
"Rest," the older woman said. "Do you want to see him?"
Merope managed to hold out her arms and the younger woman placed the baby in her arms.
"Support the head now," the younger woman said.
"I hope he looks like his papa," Merope said, looking a little foggy. She was paler than before.
Rachel tried to recall what year the Dark Lord had been born. 1926, wasn't it? Why wasn't there a doctor here? It was clear Merope wasn't well.
"I'm sure he will, love. What's his name?" the older woman asked.
"Tom, for his father. Marvolo, for my father. And his last name is Riddle," Merope said, her head slumping back on the pillows.
Rachel looked around, trying to understand why these women weren't doing something. It was obvious that something was wrong with Merope. At the very least she was ill, even if they didn't know she was dying. Was this just how things were in the 1920s? Was this just how they treated people?
"I'll take him. You get some rest," the younger woman said, picking up the swaddled baby.
The memory followed the woman and the baby out of the room, but Rachel took one last look back at where Merope lay dying. It seemed so heartless and unnecessary. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was looking at the moment where Tom Riddle became the Dark Lord. Maybe if Merope had raised him, none of what had followed would have happened.
Tom Riddle was placed in a bassinet in a nursery where there were a number of other babies. He was looking out at the world, his dark eyes seeming unable to focus on anything.
The memory ended and Rachel found herself back in the room. The Morsius Pensieve was now empty.
Rachel went back to the desk and pulled her quill out of her pocket. She put today's date at the top of the first blank page. Then the year of the Dark Lord's birth, since she wasn't sure what day it was, and then began writing. She tried to stick to what she had observed, rather than her questions about what she'd seen. The whole thing just seemed senseless to her. She hadn't seen any malice in those women, but they'd let Merope die like it was just bound to happen.
What sort of place was the world when these things just happened?
She had no idea how to answer that question, or any of the other questions she had. So she wrote and decided that she was going to lose herself in potions research very soon.
It took Rachel about fifteen minutes to make her way out of the Department of Mysteries. She paused before every door and carefully thought the word 'out' in the general direction of the Department, but didn't feel any sort of response other than a mild feeling of being watched. She reached the circular room with many doors and sighed with relief. She didn't exactly mind the Department of Mysteries, but it was a strange experience. She checked her watch and then wrote down '10:34' next to her name in the log book. That meant she had a little over an hour to explore the Department Archives.
She went back down the hallway and into the offices, seeing a number of people at their desks or chatting in small groups. On her own desk she found a small pile of parchment and began looking through it.
"Forms," Mirabel said as she approached. "I put some on your desk so you'll know what to use. You've got a form for ordering ingredients, a form for ordering equipment, a form for reporting incidents, and a form for reporting injuries. I also tucked a few blank research books into your drawer; we try to keep the projects separated so we can file them without having to tear pages out."
"Thank you," Rachel said. It was always nice to know how things were done. "Who do I give forms to?"
"Ordering goes to me. For incident and injury reports, one copy goes to me and the other copy goes to Liesel. Any ideas about what you're going to start with?"
"Well, for today I was sort of just going to look through the archives and see what there is to see. I intend to eventually look into memory and mind alteration, possibly to do with dreams," Rachel said, still wanting a solution for her Dreamless Sleep problem.
Mirabel nodded. "That's fine. Take your time. You'll want to check in with Amber at some point, she leads the group on potions that affect the mind. You'll find potions in the 400s, there's guides posted on the shelves. Everything else alright?"
"Yes, everything is fine," she said, though she was still unhappy about her project. She had decided her goal needed to be to simply get through it and put it behind her.
"Good. Let me know if something is wrong and we'll sort it out," Mirabel said, heading back to her own desk.
Rachel continued down the space and went through the door that was labeled 'Archives'. It was a deceptively simple wooden door for the vast space that was behind it. The room stretched further than she could see in each direction, with shelves upon shelves of materials. This was the work of generations and generations of people in magical Britain. There was a guide on the nearest shelf and Rachel paused to look at it.
Just as Mirabel had said, Potions encompassed the 400s, with Herbology taking the 300s. Spell Crafting took the 500s. Life and Death were found in the 200s. The Department itself encompassed the beginning through 99, which Rachel supposed must have meant that was the first thing that was studied here. Rachel realized she should have asked someone how many chambers were in the Department of Mysteries. The 100s were simply labeled as 'Magic', which was interesting because usually when people spoke about magic they were referring to a specific field. Time was in the 600s. Prophecy was in the 700s. Mind was in the 800s, and Rachel would like to know if that just meant mind magic or if they were studying the mind in other ways too. Arithmancy was in the 900s and Rachel wondered if Malcolm wouldn't want to join the Unspeakables when he was done with his second Mastery. There wasn't much call for theoretical Arithmancers in the general scheme of things. Cosmos was listed as the 1000s, which Rachel decided she needed to check out at some point, because she wanted to know if they just meant Astronomy or if they were actually studying space like muggle astronauts. Then there was 'Unclassified' with an arrow to the right, and 'Citizens' with an arrow to the left.
Rachel looked right and left, but didn't see anything particularly distinguishing in either direction. She decided to go forward, figuring that the higher numbers would be further back in the room. The shelves stretched high over her head and while there was enough space between the shelves for two people to walk side by side comfortably, Rachel was glad she had worked enough on her claustrophobia that she wasn't too uncomfortable here.
She checked the numbers on the books every few minutes, and sure enough she was going higher, but not particularly quickly. The titles were almost all handwritten and the books varied in thickness. Sometimes she saw multiple thick volumes on a subject, all in the same hand. It was incredible and a little overwhelming. There was easily more here on a single row than a person could read in a lifetime. She supposed that was why people specialized.
After about a twenty minute walk she reached the 400s. There was another guide here, dividing the 400s by topic. Mind altering potions had their own section in the 460s, with sleeping potions being in 462. She began walking down the first aisle in the 400s and came to a stop. There were back issues of the journals here. Rachel found Modern Potions and located the very first issue. It was from 1728, the year after the Potions Guild was officially founded in Britain. The front cover topic was a review on healing salves. Rachel found herself smiling at the idea of what a 'modern' potion had been three hundred years ago. She reshelved the issue and went through the stacks until she found the most recent issues. Her front cover issue for her work in sleeping potions was here. Her own research was in the Department Archives!
Rachel grinned to herself and continued down the aisle. The Potions Guild library was big, but it had nothing on this. Eventually she wound up in sleeping potions and found two full shelves of books on them. She recognized less than half of the titles, which was truly exciting. She might actually find answers here.
One by one she pulled books off the shelves, finding both published books and handwritten books. Some of them didn't have tables of contents or indexes, or even page numbers, which was a little frustrating. She put those ones back for now. She wound up with five volumes on sleeping potions, deciding that was where she was going to start her research, and then she'd come back for more.
She checked her watch and discovered she'd been in the archives much longer than she'd intended and now needed to hurry if she actually wanted to have something to eat and then get some work done for the Wizengamot. She went back down the aisles, clutching her books and checking the numbers occasionally to make sure she was still heading in the right direction. This was why she'd signed up to be an Unspeakable.
"Hey," Rachel said, leaning in for a hug.
"Hey," Millie said, enveloping her tightly. "So, Unspeakable Snow. When the hell did that happen?"
Rachel laughed as Millie released her. "Just this week, actually. I'm surprised it took the Daily Prophet so long to catch up." It was nice to visit Millie and Natalie's flat and get away from her routine.
"Tea?" Millie asked.
"Sure," Rachel said, following her into the kitchen. She watched as Millie put the kettle on and then both of them settled at the kitchen table.
"What's it like? Can you even tell me?" Millie asked.
Rachel shrugged and managed not to wince even as it pulled at her shoulder. That had been bothering her today, which meant she'd spent too much time this week hunched over her desk. "I can't say a whole lot. I'm spending part of my time in potions research, which is what I wanted to be doing, so that's nice. The Department Archive is amazing. It makes the Hogwarts library look tiny."
"I bet Hermione would love that."
"She would. I can't see her joining though, I don't think she'd like not being able to share her research with people." Perhaps later in life, when Hermione wasn't traveling so much, she might consider it.
"Probably not and I'm not sure how receptive to her ideas on healing the Ministry would be anyway," Millie said.
"The Ministry as a whole, probably not. The Unspeakables would probably be more receptive. They seem very open to just about anything," Rachel said. Hermione had consistently been bumping heads with the healing community ever since she had been in the Healers Training Program. Some of it was anti-muggleborn prejudice, and some of it was an unwillingness to accept that they didn't have to do things the way they'd always been done. It was a problem Rachel had run into with the Potions Guild too. They liked new versions of old potions, but were a lot less keen on entirely novel potions and methods.
Hermione had solved her problem by only publishing in journals relating to curse related healing, rather than the journals with a more strict focus on healing. Rachel simply relied on her name to get things published. If she was some random person that no one recognized, she knew she'd have a much more difficult time publishing than she currently did.
"How are the Unspeakables themselves? I've always heard they're very strange people," Millie asked, getting up as the kettle whistled.
"I've only met a handful of them. They've been nice so far. Everyone is very focused on their research. Actually, people don't surface for very much, and even then, they only want to talk about their research." Rachel had met a few other members of the potions groups and their way of introduction had been to tell her about their potions projects and to ask her about her work. It was very different from the Wizengamot, but it worked for Rachel.
"Sounds like you'll fit in just fine," Millie said, returning with tea cups.
Rachel put sugar and milk into her cup and stirred and waited for a moment while it cooled. "How are things at Spell Crafting?"
"Oh, pretty good. Busy, but good. I'm still adding to the new edition of the master charms book. Polly actually recommended me for the project because she knew that I did most of the work on the OWL and NEWT Charms guides. It's really not the same at all, but it's good for my career to be involved in the project."
"That's great," she said, fully meaning it.
Their OWL and NEWT guides had only been published for four years now, and they weren't all that profitable, but Rachel didn't mind. It had taken the group three years of writing and research and they'd had to contract with a few other people they knew who had specialized in topics that the study group hadn't taken at Hogwarts.
Unfortunately their History guides would soon be out of date, but it was for a good reason. Professor McGonagall had managed to hire a living history teacher and they were in the process of revamping the entire History OWL and NEWT curriculum with the Department of Education. Unfortunately Rachel hadn't had any luck with getting Muggle Studies to be a required class or to implement any kind of magical culture studies class. For the time being, people would have to make do with the books that she and Hermione had written, though their books on muggles were now both assigned textbooks for the Muggles Studies class.
"How are you and Theo?" Millie asked.
"Good. Busy, but that's pretty usual for us. We have a dinner with the Minister coming up, which should be as fun as ever. What about you and Natalie?"
"Well…"
Rachel set down her teacup. "Well?"
"We're thinking of getting married!" Millie said, her eyes wide and her face slightly flushed. "I mean, nothing is official, but we're talking about it."
"That's great!" Rachel was happy for her, but also it wasn't entirely unexpected. Millie and Natalie had been dating for nine years now and living together for four. "What are your parents going to say?"
"Oh, you know them." Millie rolled her eyes.
Rachel did know Millie's parents and wasn't super fond of them from the times that they met. She didn't think they were bad people, but they had bought into some of the stranger conspiracies that surrounded Rachel. For the most part, Rachel tried to avoid them. "Do you think they have any idea?"
"Eh, hard to say. I think they've accepted that this isn't a phase and I'm serious about Natalie. It doesn't really matter what they say. They don't get to pick who I marry. If they don't want to come to the wedding, that's fine with me."
She didn't think that would be fine with Millie, but she absolutely understood needing to make her own decisions about who she was in a relationship with and not letting anyone else decide that for her. "Are you going to propose to her? Or is she planning to propose to you? How does that work?"
"I wish I knew," Millie said with a laugh. "I mean, I think I might propose to her. We just need to finish figuring things out first. I want to be sure it's what she wants before I propose. And then there's engagement rings and all that. I might have to talk with Draco and Neville and see how they did all of this."
"Maybe ask Hannah and Astoria how they would have liked to be proposed to?" Rachel suggested.
Millie nodded. "Good idea. I mean, Natalie isn't Hannah or Astoria, but some ideas would be nice. I both want it to be a surprise, but to be totally expected, if you know what I mean."
"The moment is a surprise, but the fact that you're asking her is expected," Rachel interpreted.
"Yes, exactly." Millie sighed. "It shouldn't make me this nervous. Natalie and I have been together forever. I know she's going to say yes, but still."
"I think it's understandable that you're nervous. I think people are supposed to be nervous when they ask someone to marry them."
"Are they?" Millie asked, her eyebrows raised.
"I mean, I would be. It just seems like a thing that would make pretty much anyone nervous," Rachel said, though she knew from experience that the things that made her nervous weren't always things that made other people nervous.
"Speaking of which, you and Theo?" Millie asked.
"No," Rachel said, shaking her head.
"Why not? I mean, who am I to ask that? Natalie and I have been together for nine years, but you seem pretty sure."
Rachel traced her fingertip along the rim of the teacup. "I just don't think I want to be married, that's all."
"It's not some mystical thing. Lightning doesn't strike and suddenly you're married, though it honestly might be easier that way. I keep thinking of all the things we'd have to do, and that part I'm not super looking forward to. I mean Draco of all people got married and he's doing fine," Millie said, her eyes focused on Rachel.
"Draco and I are fundamentally different people," Rachel said firmly. Draco was a good friend. She was godmother to his first born child. But the things Draco wanted out of life were not the things that Rachel wanted out of life.
"I mean true, but you could say that about anyone. What does Theo think about marriage?"
"I haven't the slightest clue. It's not something we've discussed," Rachel said, thoroughly finished with the topic of her and Theo getting married. "When are you thinking of asking Natalie? Fancy dinner? Moonlit walk? Ball gowns?"
Millie laughed. "Definitely not ball gowns, Natalie would murder me before I got her into one of those. Um moonlit walk sounds nice. Might be a bit cold though."
"Oh, on the beach," Rachel suggested. "Private beach, just you and her. You wouldn't have to go in the water and if you did it soon it shouldn't be too cold."
"Hmm, maybe. I like the idea of doing it under the stars, but if it's too dark she might not see the ring."
"Well, I think you're supposed to say something with the ring, and she'll get the idea," Rachel pointed out.
"I suppose so. Dinner you think? But wouldn't a fancy dinner give it away?" Millie asked.
Rachel managed to catch herself before shrugging. "Doesn't have to be fancy, it can just be food you both like."
"I feel like I need more ideas before I pick."
"What about the internet? There's got to be lists or something," Rachel suggested. "I mean, it will all be for muggles, but they can't be that different."
Millie nodded. "We could try that. Here, let me get my laptop and we can look together. I want you to veto things that sound ridiculous."
"I can do that," Rachel said, happy to spend her Saturday afternoon like this with Millie.