Wednesday. Lawrence rubbed thoughtfully at his neck, wondering if he’d nicked the skin while shaving that morning. He pulled a face, thinking to get up and check, only part of him really didn’t give enough of a crap.

Wednesday was not ordinarily the day they let him shave (for who was going to trust him with a set of razor blades longer than a quick shave?) but this Wednesday he was due some visitors. Not just a shave today, but proper clothes. No longer stuck in temporary prisoner robes from Two, or patient robes from the hospital. He wore a white t-shirt (which had seen one too many washes, and was a little grey) and jumper (not the frightful Christmas one, but a navy blue one that rather more resembled school sports kit) and a pair of pale jeans, (they were a little long in the leg, folded up at the hem). Even though the hospital was always rather warm, he wore a pair of plain white socks as opposed to the patient slippers. They were tucked under the edge of the bed behind him.

The three armchairs clustered dead ahead of the door in out of the room, were empty apart from Lawrence. He sat in his usual middle chair, able to see the door to his left, the enchanted window to his right. The other two chairs sat at right angles, but faced each other. One normally for Sandy Misslethorpe, one for Yavin Morgenthau. But they were not his visitors today.

I wonder if she's still working with Edwin. Lawrence thought momentarily, gaze turning to the door. To his surprise, it opened. Two beats later, he got to his socked feet to receive his guests.

“Good morning,” he greeted, the brightest of his expressions to Harper, faltering when he looked to Eva Kuester. He swallowed and nodded, “Uhm, welcome to my humble abode.” He mumbled to the blonde witch, unable to meet her eyes for long.

Although he was expecting her, their last encounter - and practically any encounter before that - had never been that lovely. She was a keen reminder of some of the worst times. If he didn’t trust Harper so much, he’d never have agreed to let her come. He’d certainly not agree to see her again unless Harper was there. The Ministry were forming their cases against him, and there was no chance Kuester was here to help with the defence.

“So, erm, Kuester, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Evangeline Kuester didn’t want to be in Lawrence Musgrave’s claustrophobic hospital cell room as much as he probably didn’t want her there. She’d seen him at the ministry shortly after his arrest, a failed attempt at closure as she asked him why. Not knowing what answers she’d wanted to her questions, Evangeline found that she’d left with more questions. She had, however, been quite certain that she wouldn’t be coming face to face with the excuse of a wizard that unfairly locked her up again.

Unfortunately, the clandestine investigations into the legitimacy of Minister Edwin Glass’ activities had made this meeting necessary. Harper had managed to get Eva in under the ruse of seeking further closure. No one questioned a former muggleborn prisoner wanting to come face to face with the wizard that had almost been her executioner. It was a suitable alibi for the visit.

In the doorway to the small room, Eva froze for a moment. Lawrence was standing to greet them in fairly normal clothes with a bright grin directed at Harper. He looked ordinary. Eva wanted him to resemble the monster she still saw in her dreams, or at least the bedraggled mess that had been in the cell on Level 2. Perhaps this might make it easier to talk to him.

They stepped further into the room and the door was locked shut behind them. This sent a chill down the witch’s spine. She didn’t do locked doors. she couldn’t do locked doors.

“We need to speak with you.” The German witch said coolly, pulling a notepad and self-inking quill from the pocket of her cloak. she gestured for him to sit, and sat down herself. “It’s pertaining to…well, I’ll let your lawyer explain that.”

This was the second time she was breaking the law since taking on Lawrence's case - who would have thought criminality could be so contagious? But their intentions were good and their heads clear; or at least hers was. Harper had tried, in her own subtle way, to imply to Stump and the others that she was humouring Eva's unquenchable desire for closure.

She didn't think Eva would ever see Lawrence clearly. To both their detriment, maybe.

Harper smiled warmly at her client when they entered, eyes coloured with both fondness and disquiet. Musgrave's days were numbered and it was hard to be reminded that as his mental health improved, Azkaban drew closer. Sometimes these things just didn't make sense to her.

              “So, erm, Kuester, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
      “We need to speak with you. It’s pertaining to…well, I’ll let your lawyer explain that.”

That was her cue. Harper was the last to sit, undoing her coat and letting it fold back around her on the comfortable armchair. They neatly bookended the wizard. "It's about your memories," she crossed her legs as her smile lessened and a slight wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. "We've had reason to look at them, Lawrence. Eva has some questions."

In all honesty, Harper herself had many questions. She was furious with what they had learned - but she burned through her anger quickly, because you had to when you did what she did for a living. Letting go of anger was what enabled her to act.

"You see," she exchanged a look with Eva, "we have resolved to do something about the Minister of Magic."

Grim as ever, Kuester. Clad in grey, she’d brought something to take notes with. If her pointed stare and quill weren’t weapons enough, those heels would probably take an eye out. She took a seat, referring him back to Graves. Your lawyer. Very official. This had to be about the trial. There was nothing else he could think short of Ira or Layton rising from the dead.

Where Eva was icy blue, Harper brought flame. Not just in hair, but warmth of her greeting to him. He had missed her periodic company, even if it had been mostly bad news or scrolls to sign. There was no patter of paws behind her, but given their frosty company, this was not news to him.

“It’s about your memories,” Harper explained. A crease formed between Lawrence’s dark eyebrows. There’d been an awful lot of digging around and brushing up on his memories. As what tends to happen to anyone, his mind shot through several possibilities in a panic: that Sandy and Yavin had noted something and passed it on, that there was a discrepancy between his account and his actual memories, that there was something else they wanted to question him about… but the continuation of her sentences took him to a very different place altogether.

“We’ve had reason to look at them, Lawrence. Eva has some questions.”

The crease was deepening, and at the mention Kuester had been in those bottled memories, he glanced to her and back to Harper widening his eyes. He’d told Harper she’d know when the time was right, but he’d not accounted nor invited Kuester into whatever those memories were. It was disconcerting not to quite remember or have an idea what the memories had contained.

“… to do something about the Minister of Magic.”

Edwin? Edwin. That… that sounded plausible, but Kuester?! He looked again from Eva to Harper, as if to say but Eva?!

“Right. Right.” He replied, unsure of himself. “You both looked at the memories? Both of you?” His one remaining forefinger pointed from one to the other and back again from his lap, ending on Eva where it lingered. “But you work for him?” It was a rhetorical question. Last they’d seen each other, Kuester had advised Glass. “What are you doing looking at my memories, or even knowing they exist?!” He looked back to Harper in alarm. More that he’d no idea what was in the memories, but that it had been a scramble to do it before he’d been obliviated.

Musgrave was unsurprisingly perturbed that Evangeline had seen his memories. He’d given them to Harper for safe keeping before the obliviation, not expecting someone he’d arrested years ago to play witness to them. Musgrave’s comfort, however, didn’t rate high, if at all, for Kuester, so her gaze remained fairly icy and professional, a great contrast to her friend in the other chair.

“I don’t work for him.” Eva corrected him with a shake of her head. “Not directly, anymore.” Just like when she’d been in Azkaban, the world stopped still in the cell of the imprisoned, whilst it moved at hyperspeed outside, it had always seemed. Musgrave was clearly experiencing the same sensation as he sat in this little cell clueless as to what these witches had been up to.

“I am the Deputy Head of Law Enforcement, Musgrave. And I…we have reason to believe you may be able to help us; Miss Graves and I.” How much could they trust Lawrence? If he’d been friendly with the minister, what was to say he wouldn’t pass this visit on? They were now taking tentative steps on a dangerous path with no chance of return.

“Before the war, you and Minister Glass were friends?” She’d heard it from the man himself the preceding April[1] when Lawrence had sent his warning about handing himself in. “Can you describe that friendship?”

1.	[Apr 6] The Fire that was so Trim

Kuester clarified her new role within the Ministry of Magic, and Lawrence’s brow, creased with confusion, suddenly smoothed at hearing her lateral promotion.

“… and … we have reason to believe you may be able to help us; Miss Graves and I.” Lawrence glanced to his left to Harper sat between them and the door, checking her reaction. She seemed as sane as ever. He trusted Harper. She wouldn’t have brought Kuester unless she had something worthwhile to say, she’d have already advised Lawrence against saying anything the moment they arrived if she was here despite his legal representation’s best interests.

Eva wasted no time in asking a question about the nature of the friendship between the former auror and the now Minister for Magic. He took one further glance at Harper and wet his lips, grazing his teeth over them while he thought about his answer.

“Yeah, we were friends. Not close, but work friends,” he shrugged at his answer. “We had friends in common, like most people do. He was an obliviator, I was an auror and we’d do the odd job together.” He licked his lips properly and shuffled in his seat, taking the cue Kuester wanted a little more elaboration without her having to say another word.

“We got to know each other a bit better because we were both groomsmen at Octavius Pepper’s wedding. You know the guy who painted Minister Bagnold in the nud? He was a family friend, turned out also a friend of Edwin’s. We were both looped into helping out, or rather keeping the groom out of trouble. We got properly talking then I think. He knew everyone’s name there. On the cusp of impressive and creepy.”

Lawrence pinched his fingers and shrugged. His mind was trying to drag forward any other useful information, and there was that strange blank feeling again. Like reaching for an object in the dark and grasping short of it, fingers combing through empty air.

“The memories were about Edwin then? I asked you to keep them before he had me obliviated, yes?” He looked back to Harper. “He’s definitely obliviated something from me about him. I can feel it. My memory is trying to grasp for records that just aren’t there. What’s he done now?”

There was something really weird about hearing Eva refer to her as Miss Graves. Probably, she thought, because neither her friend nor her client ever called her that. Harper guessed this was Eva's way of maintaining an emotional, professional distance - facing Lawrence was hard, considering their painful history. When Musgrave looked at her, she dipped her chin into a reassuring nod.

She didn't want to say anything just yet. It was important that the other two got their footing in conversation first, or things would become awkward very very fast. Luckily she didn't have to worry for long: Lawrence got things started by explaining the nature of his friendship with Glass.

            "Yeah, we were friends. Not close, but work friends..."

Put this way,  it didn't seem unusual for the two men to have known one another. In another time, another place. Before the two made a series of decisions that would set them down entirely different paths. "The memories were about Edwin then? I asked you to keep them... definitely obliviated something ....What’s he done now?”

"He hurt you." Harper replied without missing a beat, smoothly and in the cadence of someone having a much more relaxed conversation. "Among other things. I mean, that's what Shufflebottom[1] has lead us to believe...." she added, sitting forwards slightly, hands meeting over her knee as she crossed one leg over another.

So Glass really had taken all those memories out of Lawrence. It was unreal, having seen things he couldn't even remember now. She glanced at Eva and then back at the wizard. "The memories you gave me, they were about how Edwin was helping you. When you were working for Ira Almasy. How he... he seemed to know things he shouldn't have. Like the Leaky Cauldron explosions."

1.	31st Dec 2011 - The Party Has Arrived

Shufflebottom? He blinked twice, trying to place what Willy had to do with it. Last he’d heard, Shufflebottom was still very much in Azkaban. They must have spoken to him. But nobody could believe a word Willy said, he was a habitual liar.

“… they were about how Edwin as helping you. When you were working for Ira Almasy. How he… he seemed to know things he shouldn’t have. Like the Leaky Cauldron explosions.”

It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d come to in the inferno of the Leaky Cauldron’s kitchen, impaled and worse for wear. He remembered that alright, but he didn’t recall anything to do with Edwin about it. Just what had happened after. Hannah, broken bones, Ira. The memory was as good as turning on a cold shower down his neck.

“Edwin was helping me?” Lawrence asked, as if testing how that tasted in his mouth. “He wanted me apprehended, I hardly think the … “ He stopped, his mind grasping into that blackness of obliviated memories.

Lawrence’s expression dropped quickly and he spoke quietly. “I don’t remember… I can’t remember.” He sighed in frustration, chastised himself, “State the obvious.”

The growing clarity of not knowing instilled a panic. Lawrence suddenly brought his feet up onto the front of the armchair, curling his body protectively. Behind raised knees, he bit his remaining thumb between his teeth and stared unseeing across the room, busy running through his memories of the Leaky Cauldron of anything about Edwin after.

“Why now? Why did you look at them now? Why has Shufflebottom said anything to either of you?” He broke out of his staring match with the wall and looked to Eva for this answer. She was the one who suggested he would be able to help. If she were deputy on Two, then she was the one opening any investigation on the Minister.

It was a brush off, to put it down to friends in common, but Eva wasn’t exactly inclined to give Lawrence Musgrave any benefit of the doubt. This was the wizard who’d happily arrested innocent muggleborns during the war and, upon his eventual release, had cavorted with dementors. It was wizards like Musgrave (mainly Musgrave) that Eva had never considered returning to her role as a defensive lawyer at the Ministry. From her pocket, Eva pulled an enchanted notepad. Level 2 issue, enchanted for her eyes only. She scribbled the name Octavius Pepper down with her self inking quill.

Of course, Lawrence wanted to know more about why they’d come with the topic of Glass, but Kuester was reluctant to tell him anymore than necessary. Harper, however, was far more open with her client. To Harper, Musgrave appeared to be a stray dog in need of love. To Eva, Musgrave was a stray rabid dog in need of putting down. Harper hadn’t spent a year in Azkaban thanks to the stray dog.

“I can’t tell you why.” She wasn’t willing to tell him why. Who said this wizard was even remotely trustworthy? For all they knew, knowledge of their little visit would find the Minister soon enough.

“When you were handing yourself in, you sent the message to Glass alone. Why inform anyone beforehand? Specifically, why Edwin Glass?”

"To shit him up," Lawrence replied without hesitation. It was the truth, and he held Eva's gaze in silence for two beats, allowing her to understand that. "And because I always sent notes." He looked away, down to the arm of the chair he was sat in, not really seeing the weave of the material. "Almasy liked me to do it," there was the hint of a smile on his face. "Touch of drama, anticipation for the recipient."

He glanced up to Eva with the slightest suggestion of disappointment across his brow.
"Take it you haven't waded through my encyclopedic case file." He had sent word to the Head Auror about Hannah's kidnappers[1], then an exploding cauldron[2] before the Leaky Cauldron. At Christmas, it had been the Loch Ness monster[3] about the werewolf kid Almasy had him deposit in the snow. It was then he'd doubled his efforts to find something he could overpower her with, and the warnings had stopped.

Turned his attention to Harper, knowing she'd been through those hours personally, at his elbow. Looked her expression up and down, deciding whether it was worth the effort to fill in the gaps. Eva wouldn't have come if she knew all the answers.

"I had to stay on the right side of Almasy. She could have killed me the moment she found out I'd ruined her werewolf fights. That was the first I sent anything to Edwin, to tell him where[4] it had happened. Tip him off. Thought he'd know what to do with it. Once remaining friend, and a momentary lapse of moral conscience." He sighed irritatedly. It had ended the fights, but death at Almasy's wand at that point would have been a kindness.

"She caught up with me and made me regret it. I put..." Lawrence stopped, as if he'd had the sudden thought he'd left the stove on. "... missing something. I told Almasy about him[5] but he's scrubbed something[6] about it." His hand curled into a fist.

"We were at odds." Lawrence looked to Eva, though his hazel eyes flickered back and forth as he raked through his memories. "I wanted to take her down. For what she did to Hannah, but I couldn't do it alone. I'm missing pieces..." He landed the bottom of his fist forcefully into the armrest and looked to Harper sharply.

"What were they? What did I give to you?"

1.	30th Sept, 2010 Handed on a Silver Platter
2.	5th Nov, 2010 A Warning
3.	25th December, 2010 Bearing Gifts I traverse Afar
4.	July 27th, 2010 - The Scene of a Crime?, Lawrence sent the address of the fight and his initials LAM to Edwin after getting Hannah out.
5.	28th July, 2010 A Pound of Flesh
6.	28th July, 2010 My Old Friend

Notes, thought Harper, were good. Listening to Lawrence and Eva speak gave her a moment to think - she had never been involved in any of the Almasy business but the touches of drama were good. Drama meant an auteur, meant someone susceptible to pride and ego through the artistry of their crimes. It reminded her of something recent but she couldn't place her finger on it...

            "What were they? What did I give to you?"

She woke from her thoughts and met her client in the eye, lips pressed into a grim line. There was no longer any dancing around the subject. Harper would have to trust that Edwin was not going to get into Lawrence's head anytime soon.

"There were several memories. Let's start with the first two or three, seeing as I've already brought up one of them," the witch uncrossed her legs and sat back, fiddling with her drop pearl earring as she spoke. "You broke your arm. Almasy's doing? Edwin fixed you up, sent you on your way even though you were a wanted man. And then on the night after the Bonfire explosions, you visited Edwin in his home."

Harper paused, glancing at Eva for a second. "You were both listening to that Haunting Hour show. Edwin knew about the explosions. He was in on it. Does that sound right to you?" she watched him carefully.

Glass might have removed those memories but she hoped that, given them in summary, Lawrence might be able to contextualise their information. Help them find other paths to getting at the seat of power.

“You broke your arm…. Edwin fixed you up, send you on your way even thought were a wanted man.”

It was unnerving to hear Harper tell him what he had done, in those missing gaps. Nobody’s memory was perfect, and though Lawrence’s had always been sharper than most for useful detail, it boggled at these details. And yet, it was as if the edges left by missing pieces could fit her account.

He had broken his arm, and it had been Almasy. That was still very much a sharp, painful memory. How he had quite gotten out of it was hazy, as he had noted a moment before. He’d been unable to cast, as she’d broken his right arm, and he couldn’t hold a wand without a left hand. He’d posed as muggle, ended up in a plaster cast.

Going to Edwin for help definitely seemed plausible. If Glass had meddled with that meeting of Almasy in Lawrence’s memories, it meant Lawrence had told him about it. Or he’d drawn it out through association when he’d taken his wand to Lawrence’s head. Bastard. You could really go off a wizard.

“And then on the night after the Bonfire explosions, you visited Edwin in his home. You were both listening to that Haunting Hour show... knew about the explosions… in on it. Does that sound right to you?”

Again? He had been pretty beat up after that, despite how well Hannah had healed him under duress. He’d have needed somewhere to recover, but this was starting to sound like…

“We sound like an effing couple.” Lawrence muttered, a mix of disgust on his face and resignation. “It fits, yeah, it fits with what I have.” He poked his head and blinked, confused. “Makes sense we were cozy if he was so determined to wipe my memories. And if I wanted to preserve them.” He shook his head, a general resentment for Edwin’s Ministerial power and the obliviation in general now added to by a cool dread pooling in his stomach.

“Shufflebottom,” he hissed, looking back to Eva. “I told him not to say anything. Idiot. Not that you can trust a word he says. If you two want to use my memories as evidence against Glass, you’ve just got the word of a serial liar and the Ministry’s number one manpower drain. Quit while you’re ahead.”

            “It fits, yeah, it fits with what I have.”

Her heart sunk a little, and Harper Graves stopped fiddling with her pearl earrings. She believed Eva's suspicions but to hear Lawrence link his current memories to the obliviated ones so securely was akin to the sound of handcuffs closing. In her mind it confirmed and laid down a path for the coming months - not an easy one, and possibly very dangerous.

Well. Measures would have to be taken.

Lawrence was speaking to Eva but the redhead cut in as she sat forward in the armchair, picking up his final words.

"Quit? No!" she exclaimed, with the incongruous cadence of a witch protesting luncheon plans. "Lawrence it isn't only you affected by Edwin's actions, and if he remains in power Merlin knows what damage he will do to wizarding society here. Incrementally, maybe, but surely."

Edwin Glass was a bad wizard and no good could come from a bad man wearing a crown. She reached over, firmly placing her hand on Lawrence's - his only one. Her eyes were hard.

"We will get more than your memories, evidence that can be used against him. I doubt you are the start and end of Edwin's sins," Harper spoke in a soft voice that did not have to try to convince, so sure was she of her opposition to quitting. "Until then, let's... let's lay low. And dig deep."