It was a stoop she had not stood on for more than fifteen years. Not a brick about it was different, albeit slightly more weathered, and yet the entire threshold felt foreign. Except, it was not the stranger; she was. The last time she had been before this door, she had been an entirely different person. Naive. Innocent. Optimistic about the world and life ahead of her. A rebel of institutionalism. Engaged to the love of her life. Ignorant. A fool.

On a level she was not ready to admit to, the unemotional, war-hardened Head Auror was envious of that young woman of a lifetime ago who ambitioned to be a Healer. She was not, however, grateful of the baggage she had inherited from said first rendition. The Unfinished Business she had blissfully left to fester in blatant neglect. And that she now, a decade and a half later, had to face. 

Not by choice. But by necessity.

If Tamis Raynor had her way she would have never returned to the Aldridge residence, having worked very hard -- and succeeded very efficiently – at severing all positive relations with the remaining members of that family. Her dedication had finally won out several months ago when she had given a mother the cold shoulder about her son’s murder investigation, fifteen years in the grave, reopening. A mother who had almost been her own and Raynor fully believed still would have tried to be even after Tait died, if Tamis had just let her. In fact, Charisma Aldridge had tried for a great number of years. Each attempt unanswered. But it was not until that fateful moment several months ago that Raynor actually believed she had finally caused irreparable damage to that potential family connection[1] .

Which was exactly what she had wanted.

For as easy as it would have been to love the Aldridges , to survive Tait with them, that had not been the right path. Tamis Raynor had not deserved it. For she fully believed that their son’s (and her fiancé’s) death had been her fault[2]. She had, to be frank, been far too much of a coward to face them. She still was far too much of a coward. She had not been sorted into Gryffindor for a very evident reason. Back then, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined that she would need the Aldridges. That one day she would be Head of the Aurors Office. That Tait Aldridge’s case would come back to haunt her. That she would have to deal with his death with this level of professionalism. That, for fear of his murder investigation dropping back into the abyss, she would have to appear again at their doorstep again. For while progress could be declared for the Runespoor Smuggling Ring Internationally, Tait Aldridge once again threatened to become an unresolved victim of the conflict.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was the definition of irony.

If her pride survived this quirk of fate, it would be a miracle.

It was a meeting long overdue and she knew she had to be the one to conduct it. For her sake more than Charisma Aldridge’s.  But she was not stupid enough to come alone. The question then, was who take with her? Jonas would have added another personal layer to an already far too intimate ordeal. And no doubt would end up siding with the older woman. Eleor was too much an Auror.  Archer would… have been a mistake. Particularly if the Madam had read a certain copy of the Daily Prophet[3]. Pratt – absolutely not. And she would have voluntarily shrouded herself in a Lethifold before taking any of the other Aurors and allow them to bear witness to what would likely be a very personal display.

What she had needed was someone who would be impartial. Observant enough to take away from the encounter what Tamis needed but doubted she herself could collect. Someone who did not scream “Law Enforcement” and everything else about the Ministry Charisma abhorred. Someone the older woman might empathize with… and had enough indiscretion not to blurt the transgression to the rest of the world. Someone-- with big doe-like blue eyes, bushy dark hair, and a face innocent enough to give a puffskein a run for its money.

Early that morning, she had approached the trainee who met that description precisely.  And had been sparse about the details. Informed the young first year cadet that she would be accompanying her that afternoon to talk to the mother of a murder victim of an old case. That she was going to gain experience firsthand in what it is like to conduct interviews of family members. Raynor wanted her to be her Eyes and Ears, take away as much from the experience as she could. And that had been it.

… The Auror hoped that the girl looked innocent enough that if (or rather When) it came down to it, she would make a decent shield.

Taking a deep breath, none of this inner turmoil that occurred in the past several seconds crossed Tamis Raynor’s face, which was completely blanked behind an Auror’s mask. The epiphany of calm, she slanted a smirk to Fauna Blake beside her – though it was a slight more strained and a hair too encouraging than it should have been. It would have taken someone accustomed to picking up her subtle signals to recognize the barely registered emotion.

“Constant Vigilance,” she reminded the Hufflepuff alumni. And knocked.

1.	[March 17] Fool in Crimson Robes
2.	[Februrary 17] Into that Good Night
3.	[March 30][Article] Ministry Romance!

For the fifth time that day Charisma Aldridge cursed her injured leg. Upon being informed she would be back to normal within two months Madam Alrdridge had been inclined to believe her healer and had awaited being able to get back out in the field with impatience. Of course she worked abroad less and less these days but it didn’t mean she wished to be stuck in the bank sending younger, less experienced people off to have amazing adventures and explorations. Charisma just wasn’t the type to happily watch other people getting involved. Now she was forced to until her leg got over the damage a large amount of runespoor could do to a limb.

The knock at the door caused the 61 year old witch to release an expletive as she rested her head back against the armchair and closed her eyes. Five minutes was all she’d wanted to sit down after work and have a cup of tea spiced with her favourite ingredient. Firewhiskey.

Yet unfortunately Merlin didn’t look down kindly on this particular witch and simply one minute after taking a weight off she was once more wrapping slim, roughly worked and very aged looking fingers around the top of her cane and pushing herself back up onto the feet that were as usual clad in her old dragon leather boots.

It took several minutes to cross the busy artefact and book filled living room and walk through the hallway to reach the front door. The cane clicked against hard wood with every step, the sound echoing up the stairs and in the rafters before it was brought to a close and the witch pointed her wand at the door. She expertly twisted, waved and flicked her wand and the sound of locks sliding out of place was briefly heard before the handle twisted and the front door began to open inside, hinges creaking loudly.

“If you’ve forgotten the new charms again, Ryan, so help me...” A step was taken forward and around the door as the witch spoke extremely quickly, “your body’s going to found under that there patio in a dec-” The welsh witch stopped dead in voice and steps as her eyes rose and took in the sight before her.

Aldridge was faced with two red robe clad figures. After a flash of her blue eyes in the direction of the second figure, no more attention was paid to her. Instead the eyes locked themselves on the dwarfed figure of a witch she had spent hours upon hours wishing she could curse, hex, hit or bury her under the patio. These emotions and urges very quickly re-emerged.

“Coc oen...” The witch slowly cursed in welsh under her breath as her grip on the cane tightened and her fingers began to turn white. “Cachau bant...” her voice betrayed the struggle to keep calm, to not shout or cry or throw the walking cane at Tamis Raynor’s head.

A small breath was taken before very quietly Charisma spoke in English. “Get the hell off my property.”

Fauna Blake was not going to throw up, talk back, or otherwise botch this.

The mantra ran through her head as Fauna appeared with Tamis Raynor on a residential street, glancing at the familiar cottages and homes, overhearing southern English voices spilling out from an open window.

Feniton was only about an hour away from her hometown. She stepped onto the porch, looking especially wizarding in her black garb, but feeling like she was about to pay a visit to a neighbor and had forgotten to bring cookies.

Fauna caught Raynor's smirk, was jolted back to reality, and resisted the urge to shuffle her feet.

Her heart rate picked up at the knock on the door. She could scarcely believe Auror Raynor, Head Auror Raynor, was bringing her along to question a victim of a case that had been cold since the 1990s. Well, the mother of a murder victim, which seemed like the same thing to Fauna. Though Raynor had new leads that she wished to ask Mrs. Aldridge about, this was not a fresh case, nor was it regarding a minor crime. Fauna was thrilled to be here, but she had to wonder why her, when there were skilled Aurors sitting in their cubicles and grumbling over paperwork and coffee.

Raynor had explained that she wanted her to get a taste of what talking to a victim was like, but if there was anything Fauna had learned, it was to look beyond the Auror's surface emotions and explanations. Look beyond, of course, and feel as lost as ever about her motives!

Constant Vigilance indeed!

The voice could be heard through the door. Fauna stared at it, about to find out just what 'disliking the Ministry' meant. In the summer heat, beads of sweat formed on her back, and she was glad she'd pulled her thick hair away from her face.

When the door opened, she was faced with a person who shared her height, eye color, and brown hair. Laugh lines were evident, though she was definitely not laughing now. The welsh spilling out of her mouth sounded like a curse, and Fauna couldn't help but notice that every word was directed at Auror Raynor. Hmm.

Fauna glanced at Raynor, waiting for her to speak and smooth things over, but when the silence stretched, Fauna worried that the angry woman was either going to bean them with her cane or slam the door.

"Uh... we're sorry to bother you, Ms. Aldridge," she piped up respectfully. "We just have..." she glanced at Raynor. Still silence. Shite.

"A few questions. If you have a few minutes."

Fauna silently cursed her hesitance and uncertainty, imagining a miniature Pratt on her shoulder (with devil horns) taking illegible notes on her poor performance.

"I'm Fauna Blake, an Auror Trainee." At least for the next hour or so.

Fauna hoped the Head Auror would introduce herself. She mentally prodded her to do so, and resisted glancing at Raynor for the hundredth time.

The Head Auror was making the young Fauna Blake nervous. If their positions had been reversed and Jason MacDonell had pulled her into a stunt like this – no, she would not have empathized. She would have scowled and dragged her feet and demanded a more insightful course of action. Someone would have ended up hexed by now. Probably her.

As it were, she was still the likely of the two to be hexed. Just not by Fauna Blake.

It had been right about this time last year that she had met the then Hufflepuff student. Wide-eyed. Clumsy. Unwilling to stand up for herself. If Merlin himself had walked up to Raynor and told her that a year later she would be standing with her in front of Charisma Aldridge’s house as an Auror in Training she would have laughed in his face, convinced that infamous beard was twisting his mind.

 Yet, here they were.  And from what the reports told her, Blake was becoming rather infamous herself for her stubborn, hair-tossing ways. Her hapless talent for diving head first into trouble over the past year no doubt played a major role in revelation of her backbone. Even so, in danger of further provoking her own arrogance, Raynor could not help but feel personally responsible for the young woman’s interest in the Corps.

That was precisely the reason she had avoided all direct contact with the girl’s training. Until now. There was something they both could gain from this experience.

Pretending not to notice Fauna’s fidgets beside her, Raynor kept her gaze locked on the door. When it opened, her back – if possible – straightened a little further. While she did not physically prepare herself for a duel, she became edged with the readiness of someone anticipating one.  Grey eyes lifted to Charisma Aldridge’s face; there was absolutely no warmth in the blue ones that bore back into hers. What little Welsh she had gleaned from her Hogwarts Sweetheart was not needed to interpret the words spat at her. The tone said it all. Her expression did not alter.

In fact, the Head Auror stood there in perfect silence. Doing her best not to glance at the decidedly new cane the older woman had clutched in a white-knuckled grip. Or return the looks sidled her way by the Trainee.

So silent that Fauna Blake was forced to take the imitative. And Raynor let her. It did more for translating Blake’s personality than any introduction on her behalf would have. Tamis did not want incriminate the girl by association.

“Charisma,” she finally said. Simply. Terribly informally for Tamis Raynor. Much more personal than their last encounter. In direct conflict to the way Fauna had introduced herself. “We would like to come in.” The Auror shifted her stance, but just so, chin lifting a hair as she let out a resigned breath. “It is about Tait.”

Now they just had to wait for the world to implode.

Tamis’ features were inexpressive. They were set in a manner Charisma had always loathed. They were set the same way that Tait had perfected in the years preceding his death. An auror’s emotionless, cold stare. Nothing was in the eyes, everything was concealed. It was tough to handle for a witch with a temper like a firecracker and eyes that revealed every ounce of a lie she considered telling. Tait had been like his mother in that respect until he’d started training. Then they’d corrupted him, transforming her boy into a different wizard that gave his own mother that look. A wizard that had stopped telling his family everything and kept secrets behind those empty, cold auror eyes.

Fifteen years after the death of her son Charisma was staring at the same look but through the features of a witch she’d almost taken as a daughter and still would have until their last meeting.

The younger witch spoke, the one in the dark robes Tait had proudly pranced about in for three years. She sounded young, innocent and somewhat unsure of herself. In the corner of her eye Charisma noted the girl glancing back and forth at Tamis who maintained a cold silence, those grey eyes revealing nothing but fifteen years worth of questions.

Discomfort caused the welsh witch to shift her weight, resting against the cane that she held in a vice grip. She had absolutely no wish to answer questions and as Fauna Blake introduced her young little self, Aldridge prepared herself to calmly repeat her previous words. She wanted them gone and she wanted them gone fast.

But Tamis spoke. 3 extremely short phrases stopped the curse breaker from setting a curse on these unwelcome visitors. 1 word especially made Charisma reconsider her wishes.

Tait.

There was silence for a few moments as the alert blue eyes scanned from Raynor to the auror trainee and back again. No matter how much she abhorred the ministry and how Tamis had hurt her, Charisma would never let her pride and anger stop her from possibly helping towards finding her son’s killer. If that’s what this was about.

The 61 year old witch turned on her heel of her boots and began to walk back down the hallway slowly, her cane clicking on the hard wood floor.
“My husband and I told you aurors everything we knew the first time,” Aldridge lied as she pushed the door to the living room open once more and walked in, not glancing back to see if her very unwelcome visitors were following her.

Fauna stared at the Head Auror, sure she'd misheard her. She'd just called the woman by her first name. This was just not done. Not by Raynor, not in this lifetime.

For a second, she wondered if she had said the wrong thing, addressing her as 'Ms. Aldridge', but she pushed the worry away with sheer logic. Either Raynor knew the woman well, or this was some kind of tactic that Fauna had clearly been left in the dark about.

She watched Mrs. Aldridge shift her weight and consider them, and couldn't help but look relieved when she turned and walked away, leaving the door open.

"Thank you," she followed her in before she could change her mind.

Fauna glanced at Raynor, attempting to glean some meaning from her stoic expression. Though she was used to the Auror's lack of emotion and long silences, she didn't know if Charisma Aldridge appreciated it or understood where it was coming from (Fauna didn't understand half the time).

"I'm sure you did," Fauna nodded after a pause, her words simple and honest. "Uh, sometimes it's just a matter of finding the right questions to ask, to pull up the right details." That sounded like something the older Aurors she admired would say. She gave the woman a small smile.

They were all on the same side here, weren't they? That was how Fauna liked to think of it, and she was going to stay in her little bubble until one of the women reached over and jabbed it with a fingernail.

Not in this lifetime. What Fauna did not realize was that she was correct on both accounts. Tamis Raynor was very familiar with Charisma Aldridge and she had just utilized that familiarity to hopefully, at the very least, keep the woman from slamming the door in their faces. It was a tense silent moment. Both younger and older witches – with their rather disturbing physical similarities – continued to stare at her. One in ludicrous amazement. The other in tempered weariness and disdain. And both like she had suddenly transfigured into a three-headed dog. Time ticked by slowly and, at long last, Charisma Aldridge retreated back into the depths of the house.

Raynor dropped her chin a little, nodding slightly, unwilling to show how much the older woman’s words had affected her. She had already told ‘them’ Aurors everything her and her ‘husband’ knew. It was not a response she had not been expecting – it was better than she had hoped for. Charisma was making a point and she made it well. It had, after all, been Tamis who had set that tone between them.  But Raynor had not come here to beg for her forgiveness. She had come begging for something else.

The petite woman finally looked back into Fauna’s questioning blue eyes when the girl hesitated just past the threshold. Silently, Raynor indicated for her to keep moving and closed the door behind them.

“Do not bump the vase around the corner,” she warned ominously at Fauna’s shoulder as she maneuvered around her taller subordinate to take the lead in following the hobbling Cursebreaker. “It bumps back.” And that was the only subtle indication she planned on giving Miss Blake in confirmation that she was very much familiar with this house – as well as to serve as a reminder to be cautious of her surroundings. Not only did she know that Charisma’s décor had a habit of ‘bumping’, but some of it liked to bite as well.

The nostalgia was overwhelming. There was one crucial factor to this visit she should have prepared for; Charisma Aldridge was Tait’s mother. Mothers like pictures. Tamis stuck to the perimeter of the sitting room, one hand casually resting on the crook of her waist, pulling back her cloak and revealing the wand holstered at her hip. But she was not giving the usual Auror heed to her most precious possession. It was the various smiling faces on the walls. Trystan and Taryn had always visually remained the same age in her mind’s eye as when she had last seen them – their late twenties, pushing thirty. Of course they had grown up. Trystan had married. Had children. She knew their names. Charisma had written her an annual letter with the family ongoings. But it was different. Actually seeing them.

But there was one face in fifteen years that had not changed. At least, he had stopped progressing in age in the photographs. From a little boy to a young man of twenty one years. Tait Aldridge laughed and waved at her inside a frame perched on top of a bookcase. Her grey eyes froze on the small window to the past, of the vitality of his life. She almost reached out to touch the glass barrier when Fauna Blake’s last words pulled her back.

She had been vigilantly listening, letting the trainee spread her very inexperienced wings. Draw her own unbiased conclusions. The honesty in Blake’s agreeability to Charisma Aldridge’s claims caused one side of Raynor’s mouth to quirk despite the tension she felt for being here. That admirable Hufflepuff quality was the major concern in the various reports that made it back to her desk. And had a great deal to do with why she was here. For you see, Tamis Raynor knew Charisma was lying. The problem was that a blind and deaf mute hag could tell Charisma was lying. And Fauna Blake seemed willing to go easy on her because she was the mother of a victim.

Not the first person in this investigation to give the matriarch cursebreaker that courtesy.

“I believe it is very much a matter of ‘the right details’,” Raynor piped up, her gaze slid from the crampt room’s adornments to meet Charisma square in the eye, still keeping her outward expression of emotion carefully controlled. Occlumency helped.  “Would you not agree?”  The challenge was there in those grey irises, but she did not yet verbalize it. She turned her head away again, lifting an eyebrow at a statue she was almost certain, even with her limited interest in magical history, was suppose to belong to the Egyptian government.  She could ignore that.

She was waiting. To see what Fauna would start to make of this. And if Charisma would continue the charade or finally call Raynor out. However deserved the dose of professionally disinterested karma the Mrs. Aldridge was giving her might be. 

The Alrdridge house had an eclectic mix of decoration. The house itself was old, not appearing of any impressive size until one stepped foot into the hallway. This corridor was long, dimly lit and filled with collections from the family’s travels. Wooden panelled walls were home to paintings, masks and sculptures taken from various tombs and caves. Moving photographs of the Alrdridges smiled and waved at the unwelcome visitors as they passed through to the living room which was decorated as elaborately. The living room walls were covered top to toe in books and leather bound files. 40 years worth of clutter, books and treasure was housed in this home.

And yes, some of it certainly did bite.

The large brown leather settee looked extremely comfortable as the Welsh witch glanced at it but she remained standing, watching the trainee and Tamis step into the room. Blue eyes observed the pair carefully, darting between trainee and head. Charisma couldn’t deny how strange it was to have Tamis Raynor back in her living room after fifteen years but the irritation surpassed any possible nostalgia that could arise from this situation.

The smile from the trainee was not returned. There was no ounce of warmth in Charisma’s eyes. There was no sign of her usual welcoming nature in her expression or body language. She frowned at the comment, forehead creasing and subtly revealing her age as the slowly appearing crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes were accentuated. What details did they suddenly wish to know? And why had Tamis come instead of sending another ministry minion? After all this time why had she decided to acknowledge Charisma Aldridge’s existence?

“Would you not agree?” Raynor questioned; a challenge in the eyes that stared into her own. Charisma felt her temper rise and gripped her cane even tighter. Apparently rage and blood boiling wasn’t much appreciated by a runespoor injury and the witch closed her eyes for a few moments, breathing slowly as she felt a painful wrench in her thigh and knee.

“What...details exactly, are you hoping for?” The cursebreaker asked under her breath as her eyes opened slowly. “You,” a slim index finger was pointed at Tamis “Miss Raynor were there. I wasn’t.” Her right hand was opened; palm facing the head auror as she shook her head, loose waves of hair floating down from the scruffy bun it had been pulled into.

“Why are you even here? Have you decided that the family of a victim is ready to be emotionally taxed?” Aldridge hissed using the words Raynor had back in March. “And what is she?” The spare hand was waved in Fauna’s direction. “A bodyguard in case your bothersome former mother-in-law gets too angry with that Merlin dammed stoic expression corrupting your features?”

Somehow, Fauna's innocent comment got twisted into a challenge as the Head Auror sent a bald stare at Mrs. Aldridge. Fauna watched the older woman grip her cane and close her eyes. Worried, the trainee took a deep breath, caught a whiff of leather and parchment, and barely resisted stepping back when Charisma Aldridge hissed.

The finger she pointed at Raynor spelled certain death more than a wand ever could. But whose?

Things began to get even weirder. Raynor had been there? At the crime scene? Fauna threw the Auror a surprised look as the rant continued, remaining quiet and still as the woman flung her other hand in her direction. Harsh words hung in the air. Confusion slowly settled on her face. One particular word, that she was sure she'd... no.

Mother-in-law.

For those first painful seconds, Fauna stared at Auror Raynor, eyes slightly wider than usual, so shocked that surprise didn't even register properly on her face.

She opened her mouth, then shut it. The sense of dread building in her told her that Aldridge wasn't lying. There were too many signs leading up to it for it to be false.

The vase that bumped back did not just mean that the Head Auror had visited once or twice before. Raynor's focus on the photos in the frames was not a fancy Auror trick that allowed her to glean clues. Mrs. Aldrige's hostility wasn't only because she hated the Ministry.

Fauna had no answers for the irate mother, and blinked at her, guilt flickering on her face. She shouldn't be here. Not during this private moment between family.

It took a measure of will to pretend not to notice Charisma Aldridge’s grip tighten on the cane in anger. Took even more control not to comment. The elderly Witch had amble use of both of her lower limbs at their last encounter. Certainly had not been favoring one over the other with the same stubborn determination she had witnessed in MacDonell in the first several months following his career-ending injury.  Any concern she felt disappeared with the cursebreaker’s blunt hiss.

Several heartbeats passed. Fauna was gawking at her. She could feel it. The young woman’s slack expression was just apparent in her peripheral vision. It would have been difficult to admit any of this before anyone, she tried to convince herself. At least, with Blake, there was something she could learn.

“I was,” Raynor finally agreed through a clenched jaw. The words were harsher than even Fauna Blake’s wide blue eyes realized. The Head Auror had never talked about it. The personal trauma she had experienced paled in comparison to what had been done to Tait Aldridge. But that cruel dismissal from the closest thing she could remember having as a mother… It was not undeserved, but it stung.  Tamis Raynor had been tortured within a millimeter of insanity. When she first joined the Auror Corps many had speculated that she had crossed that line. Raynor herself was not convinced that they were wrong.

“If I could have identified the murderer I would have fifteen years ago,” she said, with the first touch of defensive heat in her voice since arriving. The accusation had not been actually verbalized. It was unclear if Charisma had even intended for her to take the statement as an allegation, but Raynor had. The delivery of the appellation ‘Miss’ preceding her surname did not help. The fact that she had never been able to offer the investigation anything more than a bare basic description of the criminal had done little to assuage her guilt.

Though, her statement was not entirely true. She could have given the Aurors her pensieve memory back then. It had taken Tait Aldridge’s best friend asking for it for her pride to finally allow her to hand it over. Her love for her ex-fiancé and her determination to preserve his memory in a dignified and honorable fashion had been more important than solving the case. So had preserving others opinions of her. Tait was dead. Nothing could change that, not even catching the man who had ended his life. But now, years later, others had died and more lives were at stake. Lives that could have avoided jeopardy if she had come forward sooner. She had not considered that in her mourning. And the one thing she did know about Charisma Aldridge was that they had been a lot alike.

The woman was hiding something. That truth was in her bones.

“Almost mother-in-law,” she corrected before holding up her own hand, not quite in apology, but as a buffer. She did not want to turn this into a shouting match. Taking a deep breath, Raynor turned once in a frustrated circle, the hand on her hip still instinctively pushing back her cloak to reveal the wand holstered there. She was not reaching for it. But aurors did not do well when they felt emotionally cornered.

Her gaze connected with Fauna’s, something she had carefully avoided. Her face was clouded with a small measure of disbelief, and no insignificant amount of discomfort. The girl’s features were far too openly expressive for this line of work. But Raynor could also tell she was processing the situation, evaluating the two older woman, even if she felt evasive doing so. She was still naive, but she was perceptive. “Aurors investigate in pairs. That is… one of my own policies.” It was a feeble if not untrue brushing off of why Blake was present. Notably, she had not denied the notion of a body guard.

The grind of teeth on teeth was becoming painful. Have you decided that the family of a victim is ready to be emotionally taxed? She shifted her stance, actually looking away from Charisma.

“We,” she stressed, “are here to inform you of the status of your son’s case.” There was a pause when she continued honestly, “I did not want you to know the Auror Office had reopened the investigation – our leads have been fragile, at best.”  That was going to have an explosive rebuttal so she added quickly and forcefully, “I did not want to tell you so that I would not have to extend the Ministry of Magic’s condolences, again. The case has gone unresolved.” How she phrased her next words was going to be critical. She lifted her chin and steeled herself, meeting the older woman’s eye again, “The leads dried up. I cannot afford to continue to expend Aurors on the investigation.”

She could have been more sensitive. Should have been more sensitive. But she purposely had not been. Nor was she, for the second time, being entirely truthful.

Charisma Aldridge’s immediate reaction to being told her son’s case had once again become cold and was closed was to let her fury increase and very possibly smash her cane against the head of the woman that out of almost everyone in the world, should have fought her damndest to find out why it happened, who did it.

Strangely, the wording was so impersonal, scripted like every other ministry employee in Britain. The information was delivered with the straight, unfeeling expression and Charisma couldn’t help but question the validity of the words.

The older witch’s expression primarily flashed with disbelief. This was followed by anger tinting the cheeks that were paler than normal, less tanned. Finally the irritated cursebreaker’s lips twisted into a knowing smile and she shook her head as an awkward laugh rippled her vocal chords.

“No. If that were true it wouldn’t be you here, Tamis. You’ve avoided me and my family since we lost Tait. Why would you pick this as a time to finally show your face?” The discomfort from being on her feet for so long was getting too much but she remained stood, white knuckles tightly gripping the handle of the cane.

“Don’t lie to me, madam.” The words came out sternly, like a mother reprimanding her child as the smile that had failed to reach her eyes vanished completely. “She said you had questions to pose.” The cane was waved in the silent, evidently dumbfounded girl’s direction before it slammed back down on the rug at their feet. “Why would your trainee tell me you had enquiries to make if you had closed the case?

“You’re lying through your teeth Tamis.” Charisma levelled; her voice suddenly quiet but careful, determined. “If that’s all I’m going to get out of you then I want you out of my house immediately.”

Oh Merlin, Fauna was going to mess this up. The thought kept running through her head even as Raynor and her almost-mother-in-law postured at each other; Aldridge wielding her cane, and the steel-jawed Raynor dropping words like bombs.

Raynor's news seemed crueler than any questions, and Fauna couldn't help the confusion that flickered across her face. The hopeful part of her concluded that maybe Raynor's sense of honor dictated that she be the one to deliver the news. Still, did the mother even have to know?

"Wait," Fauna interjected, a desperate tinge to her tone. "I kinda... assumed we had questions for you," she looked at Mrs. Aldridge, avoiding glancing at the cane, as if that would give her the idea to wave it. Even as she explained, she got this hollow feeling that she wasn't catching on to something, that this game being played went way over her head.

Before arriving at this house, Raynor had said she'd wanted to conduct an interview. She'd neglected to tell Fauna, along with many other important details, that the apparent purpose of the visit was to inform the poor mother that her son's case was cold.

Why in the world would she bring Fauna along just for that? To learn that life sucked?

"There's more to it than..." she gestured, unable to find the right words, and gave the Head Auror a frustrated, beseeching look. "Isn't there?"

Animosity. Fury. Disbelief. Frustration. The emotions in the room were palatable in their individual flavors. All of them were directed at the petite, far-too-composed Head Auror.

Composure that was slipping.

She could take it -- or so she told herself. After all, she had purposely instigated each emotion in each woman for two very distinctly different reasons. Not that it made Fauna Blake's imploring doe-sized eyes any easier to bear. Or Charisma Aldridge's emotionally cornered visage. From the elder of the two, she deserved every ounce of resentment and loath spat at her. The chiding stung in a way only the Cursebreaker could. There was no excuse for the way the Auror was showing up on this stoop after so many absentee years. Yet, Raynor held her ground. On this issue, when it was about Tait, cornering Charisma was exactly what she had to do. Just as Jonas Trevelyan had cornered her[1].

"There is," she replied curtly to Fauna. The crisp heat, the first hint of any real emotion since they had arrived, was not directed at the Auror Trainee.

Her gaze remained locked on Tait's mother. Several seconds passed. "I never said the case has closed," she pointed out calmly to both of them. Everything she had said was accurate. They were out of leads, had been for nearly a year, and she could not afford to waste department resources that could be spent on other crimes. The threat of the Runespoor Smuggling ring was no longer imminent. And there were other threats rising that now were.  "Half-truths, Charisma. They might as well be lies."

It was a statement as much as an accusation. At first, it appeared to be driven by a bubbling anger or frustration, but one who knew her well could see the desperation, hidden so carefully until now, under all of that self-righteous pride.

"This case will close. I have done everything in my power to stop it." She took a deep breath, nearly half turned away, suddenly feeling very trapped herself in the cluttered sitting room with the cane wielding ex-mother-in-law and trainee that looked in need of a nausea potion. Much calmer and quieter, "By your own admission, do you believe I would be here if I had not exhausted every other option?"

"Tait Adridge was your son," she pointed out the obvious. "You cannot tell me that, as his mother, you did not suspect he was in trouble before he died." Tamis had known. She had just been so very young, so very naive, and so very certain that if she ignored it, the problem would go away. Tait Aldridge had been invincible in her eyes until suddenly he was not. But she had seen the stress in him the weeks leading to his death. The detachment. The longer days at work. The renewed and failed insistence that she learn how to properly defend herself. The way he had escorted her home every night from the Hospital, as if expecting the shadows to suddenly jump out at them -- the Auror swiftly slammed the door on that memory. Compartmentalized it away.

Charisma Aldridge had not been a young naive and in love twenty something willing to bury her head in the sand. She had been a mother. And a fiercely protective one with a natural propensity to distrust the governmental body her son had worked for. Tamis had tried to get Tait to talk to her. Tried and was fiercely rebuffed every time. Not allowed to talk about the job, she knew that. It was safer the less she knew about his cases. She had not argued with him enough. 

"Eight me, Charisma. Eight men against one fledgling Auror and his pacifistic Healer wife. That was not a retaliation for some petty vendetta."" That was the closest she had ever come to confining in Charisma about what had happened that night, now nearly sixteen years ago. It would be sixteen years. In just nineteen days. It was an understatement of the most extreme. She had known it had been personal if not to the Irish Man, to someone. There was a reason that, to this day, she could not find a single good excuse to justify the use of an Unforgivable. Yet, she had refused to release that information to the Ministry for many years. Tait Aldridge was dead. Nothing was going to change that. And revealing the information was not going to bring him back. So she had kept the manner in which he had died to herself, wishing to preserve the deceased's integrity. But the case HAD resurfaced. And his killer was still out there. The people responsible for his death could elicit the same fate on another. Charisma and herself had shared so much in common. She would want to protect her son. Even in his death.

"If you are sticking by your story that you told us 'everything the last time', we will take our leave. But when we walk out that door, this case will close. This is over. Permanently."

To most, it would sound like a threat. That if Charisma did not divulge squandered away information about Tait Aldridge, the case closing would be the consequence. But behind the carefully laid composure was sincerity. Tamis Raynor was begging the curse breaker.  She had not come here to make amends. If those were even still in the cards, they would be slow and a long time coming. She was not here to play nice or finally explain everything to her mother-in-law. She was asking the woman to put aside their history for a common goal. She was asking Charisma Aldridge to, despite everything, Trust her. And she knew she was likely asking for too much.

1.	[Feb 02] The Adventure of the Speckled Band

"I kinda... assumed we had questions for you,"

Charisma’s bright eyes shot to the young trainee auror. It appeared she was even more in the dark than the witch they had come to visit. The cursebreaker hadn’t missed the surprise registered on Blake’s face when she’d found out the relation between the witches in the room. Trust Tamis to keep information from her own staff as well as her family. The visit to the ministry in March had made her daughter-in-law’s new methods clear. She did what she wanted, kept things impersonal and didn’t care about the family that had treated her like their own. She’d just thrown it back in Charis’ face. Ryan hadn’t believe her but he’d not been there. He’d just had to listen to his wife’s fury when she’d returned. And now he’d have more to deal with.

The head auror continued and Charisma’s gaze fell upon her. A furious, unrelenting stare. Her knuckles grew pale, completely white as she gripped the cane in pain and anger. Hey eyes glistened when reminded of the circumstances of Tait’s death. The thought of him surrounded, outnumbered and murdered continued to drag up old wounds. And Tamis threatened her another case closure. Yet again Tait’s death would go uncared for, the mystery behind his murder unsolved and the answers no doubt lay in the journal in the cellar beneath their feet. But Charisma had made a promise.

“Herby!” She yelled out, her voice strained. The tiny houseelf popped into the room and looked around. She seemed to momentarily ignore her mistress and instead scanned around to see who was in the living room.

“Miss Tamis!” She squealed, excited. “Oh Miss Tamis hasn’t been around a long time. Makes Mistress sad. And angry!”

“Herby!” Charisma scolded, causing the small shabby elf to spin around and stare up at its mistress. “Fi angen wisgi tân, yn gyflym” she muttered in welsh, demanding the elf bring her firewhiskey to ease the growing agony within her left thigh, “dwbl.”

“And tea for Miss Tamis and her friend! Ie mistress!” And the elf vanished. Charisma looked back at her visitors.

“Don’t tell me what a mother should and shouldn’t know, Auror Raynor. Did he tell you anything? His devoted fiancée?” The cursebreaker’s accent grew stronger the angrier she found herself getting. “So devoted she completely adandoned his family, the family she’d quite happily become a part of when it suited. So what did he tell you? My son? The secretive damned auror that he was? What did he tell you?”

Eight of them? Fauna stared at Raynor a moment, then quickly glanced away to hide the sympathy and horror in her eyes. She swallowed. If Raynor could act unaffected, so could she. It wasn’t her experience to grieve over, especially not now.

Even Fauna caught on to Mrs. Aldrige’s defensive reaction, her deflection to the Head Auror. She shook her head, not quite understanding her place here, but feeling like if it continued this way, Raynor would only coolly stare down any opposition while Aldrige waved her cane and poisoned the tea.

"Does it matter?" Fauna couldn't help but ask the mother, her respectful tone a contrast to her choice of words.

"Whatever information she has or knows isn't enough to solve the case. That's why we're here," she gestured around the house. "It's the only way we're going to find something new, to move forward."

It must be Raynor's last resort if she were here.

"If the attack was personal,” she paused as she collected her thoughts. “Maybe he let something slip, or you noticed something later. Family picks up on things that other people don't."

Fauna doubted she was offering anything new or anything the mother hadn’t heard a million times. But she had to make an effort. She had to be here for something other than staring at them wide-eyed. She looked at Mrs. Aldridge, relating her to her own mum, and how her mum would react if her child were killed so young and so cruelly.

In that light, Mrs. Aldridge showed a great deal of restraint.