9 am
5 September 2009

Zora Roh was at attention standing before the Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, Mr Cameron Rosier.  She was buttoned up to the neck, her hands folded tight at the small of her back, eyes forward.   The stolid veteran Auror had met her boss's boss before, but this would be the first time she'd give him a briefing, the first time they'd deal with each other one on one.

There were not a few Aurors who'd objected to Rosier's appointment, but Zora wasn't one of them.  She was experienced enough to know that the brass at the top didn't matter much, so long as they were Lawful Good and Imperius-Free.  She'd give Rosier all the respect his title awarded him, and then go about her job the best way she knew how.   Rosier did have one thing over his predecessor - a pulse.

She was making her report on the Kingstreet case.  And had some ... well ... interesting news.   She stood silent, waiting for leave to begin.  She was old school like that.  One of the older Aurors most often cited with an O.A.F or other infraction, and yet the one most likely to cling to the rigid heirarchies of Level Two.

Rosier grumbled to himself while reading a tattered-looking piece of parchment. After a small frown, the man tossed the document on his messy desk and focused on the witch in front of him. Unlike most of the Auror office, Roh wasn't as negative towards Rosier at the beginning of his...well, reign. But she was still a textbook case of a do-good Auror sprinkled with some attitude and some typical veteran self-importance. But Rosier knew how to deal with such people well enough, or so he liked to think. Well, as long as they didn't break the 'Don't mess with me and don't mess with my office' pact.

The past month was a difficult one for the Head of the Department. He hated the summer, was buried in work, never felt more lonely and on top of all that - he was fighting the already lost battle with his injuries. But things were getting better - well, some things. There was always crime out there, unfortunately.

He wasn't exactly eager to hear what Roh had to tell him. Aurors never had good news...well, they would never come to him with good news. He felt like he was the one they went to when there was no other option. He was there to pick up the pieces. Sat in his cozy, black armchair, Rosier raised an eyebrow, not bothering with the pleasantries this time. There would be no tea or biscuits, he was definitely too tired to be hospitable. He looked at the woman standing across the giant pile of documents and other trash on his over sized desk and finally spoke.

"Morning, Roh..." he grumbled unenthusiastically. Rosier definitely wasn't a morning person, so every meeting that took place before noon was a recipe for a disaster...especially when he'd drink two bottles of port the previous night. But that was another story... Finding his reading glasses among the mess, Rosier put them on quickly before she had time to notice the ugly, dark circles around his eyes.

"Take a seat. I'm all ears." He said curtly, just before lighting a cigarette, as per usual.       

Rosier looked a mess, there was no way around it.  His adventures at the hands of that blaggard Tawse in May[1] had left him with injuries, but he also just looked train-wrecked.  Roh cracked a smile at the 'morning' in his voice and accepted the offer to sit.

"Thank you, sir."

As she sat, she unbuttoned her heavy read Auror robes down half way so that she could slip out the slim file - the summary of the Kingstreet file.  She passed it across the desk to him.

"Report on Kingstreet, sir.  I'm partnered up with Ed Pratt now..." she paused, knowing that Rosier and Pratt had also had dramatics, so that he might commiserate with her lot being assigned his partner.  "And so I've also inherited the Remembering Day Murders."

She sat back in her chair and crossed on leg over the other, the confidence coming out.  She'd been doing right by her cases and so had no fear of being dressed down by Rosier, not today anyway. 

"We've been missing Kingstreet since November which was the last time we've heard from her.[2]  We found her old office in the Black Chimaera since then, but she's long gone.  Don't know where she is.  That's the bad news.  We've got some ideas, but we'll need new ones to stir her up."

It wasn't good news, and Zora felt a professional sort of annoyance at how difficult this witch was to catch.  But in the meantime, Kingstreet also hadn't been attributed to any crimes, so something was up.  What? Who could know.

1.	Midnight Madness, 24 May 2009
2.	On 28 Nov 2009, Zora intercepted a letter from Kingstreet to Jack Spade which allowed them to stop a plot to frame the Minister's fiancee.

Rosier decided to ignore the smug-looking smirk which graced his colleague's face. Perhaps she, like so many others, enjoyed to see him suffer and found his struggles amusing. He however didn't care enough at this moment, especially when the Auror said the name 'Kingstreet'. An ugly grimace crept on the usually rather good-looking man's face and he didn't even bother hiding it. A report on Kingstreet? Why in the blazes would he want to read that tripe before breakfast? He took the file in his hands, touching it carefully as if it were contaminated.

"Do you enjoy working with Pratt?" Rosier asked a rhetorical question while opening the report file in front of him. No one could ever enjoy working with Pratt - the man barely spoke English and purchased his socks in muggle department stores. It was atrocious.

He listened to Roh, still glancing over the files, trying to read the illegible mess she was so proud to present to him. "And what's the good news?" Rosier enquired after she mentioned her 'bad news'. He always expected the positive side of the story when someone started out with the negative. Somehow though, he was sure there were no good news this time...or any time soon.

Was this all she wanted? Somehow Rosier doubted she would dare schedule such an early meeting about something so...well, annoying. Everyone knew Rosier liked his reports and basically spent all his time reading, editing, finding them...and ripping them apart in anger. Maybe this was the time for him to poke around a little and try to get some inside information from Roh. He liked finding out what the Aurors were doing behind their boss' back. Still, Roh was no Pratt or Trevelyan and Rosier simply couldn't act the same way in her presence.

"What else have you got?" He asked bluntly, finishing his cigarette and automatically looking for another one through his drawers. If someone thought the desk was a mess - they should take a quick look inside his drawers...

Now that they'd had more than three words between them, it was clearer now what kind of wizard Rosier was.  Roh watched as he scowled and questioned her, as he glowered at her report and dug about for another cigarette.  Merlin, he could have been an ex-Auror with that level of devil-may-care and derision.  Roh wasn't bothered though.  A wizard had a right to glower and scowl all he wanted.  Roh did plenty of that to suit herself, anyway.

"Good news?"  She found that funny.  Hadn't he heard? She was reporting on Kingstreet and Remembering Day - two cold and bloody cases that they'd never be able to close.  She left her 'good news' about Kingstreet there.  It was too bad, in a way, that no one outside of Tamis Raynor's office knew about Devlin Matthews, that they were keeping him safe as a pearl.  So far as anyone else knew, the little rat, was serving some chafing punishment under house arrest or something - that wasn't Roh's job.  Roh'd caught him and it was up to someone else to fix him.  So no, dear readers, no good news to divulge at all.

She took out a second short report - again a condensed version for the politician's delicate attention span.

"Remembering Day," she declared passing it over.  "On that, actually, we've got some news."  Pratt and Roh were actually making progress on that one together.  It hadn't been a snugglefest, but no one had lost an eye.

"Our new theory's that Gibson was framed," Roh explained, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.  "It's been a distinct possibility since he came up dead last January and there's speculation that it's connected to the Robards Murder and the Katz Kidnapping.  Now," she said straightening up and offering her hands in mock surrender, "shite if I can find anything to connect Gibson with Robards and Katz - lot of work's been done to try.  But taking just Gibson, on his own, rocks are turning."

She stopped up a little short - he looked like he wanted to say something.

It was silly to hope for good news. Ever. He should have learned that by now. Time was passing, cases went cold and the people responsible for the crimes lived among the rest of them. Rosier tried to change how some things were handled within his Department, but it was hard work. Wizards were a stubborn, traditionalist sort (especially old Aurors) and changes in their beloved system were not welcome. Not that Rosier was really a contemporary thinker with revolutionary ideas - but there were still some things he would like done differently.

He listened to her theory about the Remembering day, but found himself unimpressed again. The murder of Gawain Robards was still a particularly sore subject for Rosier (and probably half of the Department), so he didn’t have anything to add to this. Finally finding a cigarette, he took a couple of seconds to light it and then scanned over the second report she presented him. God, he was tired!

“You should know by now I care very little about theories, Roh,” he said, his  voice becoming a note harsher than before. He hated treating his employees as if they were schoolchildren, but sometimes he couldn’t contain himself. “I want evidence…solid proof. I want to live enough to see Kingstreet burnt at the stake.” It was unfair really - to blame it all on one woman who was once one of them and who just found herself on the wrong side at the end of the War. The same thing could have easily happened to Rosier. But he was a man who liked to blame someone, rather than no one.

He got up from his armchair, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He paced a bit, staring at the floor, not caring about the fact that he probably appears completely neurotic to his colleague. “I want you to stop wasting time looking for clues in the dark. I want you to forget about your morals. Clearly something isn’t done right - or else these cases wouldn’t be turning cold.” Rosier looked at the Auror dead in the eyes. For the past month he worked harder than ever - but what he did he did for himself. It was time to make amends and work for the society again.

“What do you require to make actual progress? Whatever it is you require, I can probably make it happen.” Why else was he here other than to bend the law? Crouch did it, Umbridge did it - any politician worth something did it.

His condescending tone, it grated, and Roh set her jaw and exhaled slowly out of her nose.  Stuffed up brass and their demands for proof.  They all wanted proof! No one liked being given a scolding, least of all Zora Roh. But she took it.  For the moment.

"Sir, I -"

She cut herself off, and restarted, checking her tone. 

"Mr. Rosier, I quite agree.  This new line of investigation on Gibson is very promising.  We should be able to prove soon that Polyjuice Potion was used, and very likely source it to the potioneer.  We're re-interviewing everyone who had contact with Gibson, sourcing out who had reason to frame him, and any connection to the victims[1]"

"Progress will require time and quick warrants," she admitted.  Warrants to search apothecaries' records, to dredge up confidential records, to consult the Department of Mysteries - they all required seals from Wizengamot Elders, who wanted higher-up approvals.  Everything took so much damn time and paperwork. 

She paused.  She didn't want to go over Raynor's head, but Rosier was asking her directly.

"And more Aurors."  Zora wondered if Rosier had any squirreled away in his desk.  Crime was up.  And so was recruitment, but Trainees were nearly useless. 

1.	Leon Carter, Wizengamot Elder; Benjamin Timmins, Auror.

Rosier ground his teeth while listening to her. Maybe it was tad unfair he reacted this way because it was hardly only Zora Roh’s fault the Aurors did a piss-poor job on these cases, but it was early morning and she certainly hit a nerve. Making a few more paces behind his desk, the Head of Law Enforcement attempted to calm down. But he didn’t like her wording - ‘promising’ - nothing was ever promising. Promises meant very little here on Level Two. This time however, he said nothing, he let her finish.

“We don’t have time,” he said calmly, but still in a dangerous tone. Many Aurors were used to procedures, and some old-fashioned ways this office operated with. What they all failed to see is that Rosier was the only one who could provide them faster warrants, ways to bend the law and ways to find loopholes in the system. He might have been the paperwork-loving, stubborn old politician, but he knew when to support his employees. “What you need to understand, Roh, is that when you require something bureaucratic and time-consuming, you skip that step and come to me instead. Why are all of you terrified of asking me for help?” Said the man who preferred to live in squalor and who burnt down his garden with Fyendfire.

“More Aurors,” he repeated, but somewhat smugly this time. He didn’t have an extra Auror up his sleeve, but he had some allies who would be willing to do extra work if asked. “How many do you need?” The cold, light-blue eyes looked straight at his colleague’s, which meant only that Rosier was completely serious. He wanted things sorted, one way or the other. 

As the conversation continued on, Roh felt more and more like she was under review.  Every little tick and gesture seemed to paint this new boss as a hot-headed, perpetually angry maniac.  No wonder Pratt had a fit and let her come alone.  Roh couldn't imagine a thing she could have said in this moment that might have pleased him.  No wonder Raynor wasn't happy.  Roh apparently just had to see it for herself.

She again checked her temper as even in extending his assistance he insulted the Aurors.  He had an entire Department to oversee.  He administrated the Wizengamot, the Hitwizards, and Magical Security, all in addition to the Auror Corps.  Of bloody course they didn't go running to the top every damn day - there was a hierarchy.  You lost a leg trying to short-cut that.

But even though he was being a right arse about it, the content of his words were clear enough:  you'll get what you need.

"We don't have time," he'd said, and Zora muttered under her breath, "time-turners then..."

She kept her seat while he paced and when he was through, ending off with a question, she blinked.  How many did she need?  Of all she asked for, he was going to arrange more wands? 

"A half dozen.  Lot of legwork to be done to make progress.  Sir, if I can speak plainly?"  She was tired of this feeling like he was their adversary somehow. 

He finally decided to sit back down. Someone wise once said that if you need to sit down, you definitely shouldn’t be standing up…and especially pacing around like some crazed beast. Once back in his armchair, Rosier instantly felt better. Just a little better, though. He finished the second cigarette and put it out in a dirty, crystal ashtray.

Half a dozen…blimey. He couldn’t just conjure great, new Aurors for her, so what did she expect? He could pull some strings and get her one or two, but that was it - more than that was asking too much. Instead of saying anything back, he just looked over the files she presented him once again, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. All this stress was so bad for him, isn’t that what the Healer told him? It all just worsened after his attack, but Rosier was too stubborn to listen to medical advice. Instead he was permanently exhausted, sleep deprived and constantly in a grim mood.

“Yes, you may speak plainly, I don‘t bite,” he said calmly, but with a small sigh, knowing full well she thought he was insane anyway. It wasn’t his fault he started losing his marbles lately, it was all the pressure. They all needed to be a little more patient with him! “No seriously, go ahead. Erm, don’t mind me, I’m just stressed out and nervous.” It was unlike Rosier to actually try and justify himself to anyone, but he had to watch it, because more and more people seemed to think he was a maniac.

Puzzling, puzzling man.  But, Zora had to suppose, that came with power.  People didn't climb ladders like Rosier had done without having something different about them.  A charitable thought, coming from Zora, but it had a great deal to do with what she wanted to say.

She furrowed her brow and sighed.  Given leave to speak freely, she knew it was even more important to choose her words.  During formality your words were practically chosen for you - you couldn't be candid, but at least you knew what was called for.  Speaking off the record, well, you had many more words to choose from.

"We're on your side.  Least I am.  And Pratt - my partner - he'll do his job if Voldemort himself sat in that there chair, I'd bloody well not doubt it.  You can stop treating the Aurors like we're your enemy.  We've got plenty of enemies out there in the big wide wold.  Not asking for snuggles and hugs  - least of all me.  But I'm going to do my damn job.  And so are the rest of us.  And we're going to bloody well do it until Merlin himself curse us dead."


She leveled his gaze on him and was probably more serious and determined than she ever was.

"I'm going to catch her."

The last thing Rosier wanted was for this to turn out into another 'Stop treating us poor Aurors like enemies' discussion. It was Rosier who was constantly treated like an enemy, but he was tired of arguing about that and there was no point. Slowly but surely they were learning how to cooperate with each other; it was difficult and it made an antisocial, neurotic old man out of Rosier, but he guessed it will be worth it in the long run. He learned a thing or two about Auror mentality in the past few months and he was still learning...he wished a previous Head of MLE had written a manual on the matter. It would make things a lot easier for Rosier and his successors. Maybe he should write one - now that was an amusing thought!

"I admire your ambition," he said to Roh in a casual tone. And while he indeed did admire her ambition (or the ambition of any Auror), he was going to take her statement with a grain of salt. Well, as Rosier usually did. "And I do believe you'll catch her...one day." He added the 'one day' after a small pause, shrugging. "However I would prefer if we wouldn't have to wait too long for that 'day', you know? So, I have to ask once again - how else can I help you in this process? Extra Aurors you'll get...not twelwe though."

 Roh should feel lucky with one extra Auror to be honest, not because Rosier wasn't a generous boss, but simply because they had no Aurors to spare and training them was a long and arduous process. Also, the new trainees just weren't of the same calibre as they used to be some generations ago. It saddened Rosier that those kids will one day lead this place...He could only frown in distaste.

Zora felt wierd making speeches, and again weird when Rosier commented on her ambition.  In her forties and still not a senior Auror?  It didn't feel like ambition, it felt like doing her damn job.  It was like an anthem on the Auror floor - just doing our damn job, la de dah...  Rosier had never been an Auror, though.  And Zora had never been an administrator.  That was that then.

"Ease the rails," she said with a shrug.  "Paperworks needs to get done and it can get stuck between the Corps and your office.  Isn't always easy to get warrants out of the Wizegamot Elders either - if they got a memo from you might well ink their quills."

"And make nice with Raynor," she suggested a little bit impudently.  No secret Raynor and Rosier weren't getting on and that it make the whole floor tread on egg shells.  But she shrugged again.  She was an Auror.  All she knew was catching baddies, not making government work.

The paperwork discussion again. Rosier just kept his mouth shut this time. No one in this Department did any paperwork, especially within the Auror office. Some like Jonas Trevelyan went to such lengths to hide their paperwork from him. It was a baffling situation and it made Rosier furious how they still complained. His office often looked like a parchment battlefield just because he was desperately trying to catch up with things and maybe attempt to sort them out. But he was tired of arguing about this matter. His expression was impassive as he watched the witch across the table that was covered in piles and piles of dusty folders. It was as if he was saying something like 'Oh sure...no problem, go out and enjoy the sun while I rot here and sort the paperwork myself.'

But he could do something about the warrants, so instead of a nasty, sarcastic reply about paperwork he had ready, Rosier decided to ignore the subject and skip to the part he was ready to help with. "Next time you need warrants, talk to me first. I agree we have no time for the usual form-filling and waiting. But don't tell this to everyone - I don't want to see any trainees with ludicrous requests breathing down my neck tomorrow morning." He added the last bit bitterly, trying not to think about the obnoxious children who called themselves Auror trainees.

At her last remark, Rosier crossed his arms slowly and raised an eyebrow. He knew it was obvious to everyone there was tension between him and the Chief Auror, but did they really care that much? Raynor and Rosier avoided each other these days, so why was Roh bringing this up? The Aurors sometimes behaved like spoiled children who apparently thought of Tamis and Cameron as their parents on the brink of divorce. But how does one make nice with a woman like Tamis Raynor? He couldn't barge into her office and apologize for his existence, he couldn't erase the past of his family...or his past. Nothing would make him look better in Raynor's eyes, he knew that much about the woman. "Tamis and I get along just fine," he said with as much sincerity he could, reaching for the drawers again in search for another cigarette.

"You asked, sir," Roh said with a stiff shrug. 

It was extremely difficult, it seemed, to please her bosses's boss even a little.  He demanded what he could do to help them solve cases, she made the Aurors' needs plain, he resented her for it.  But if that was how he wanted to play it, there wasn't much Zora could do if he'd already made up her mind.  Perhaps in offering to help he was just covering his own arse like all politicians - he could claim he tried but never actually change anything.   For an Auror who just wanted to do her job, the fact of all this was just another drop in the Jaded Cynic potion they were all drinking day after day.

She pursed her lips.  She knew that her call for him to make nice with Tamis wouldn't go over well, but it was the truth.  Things would go more smoothly if they worked as a team.  The Aurors knew that.  There were Aurors Zora would never get on with - Adon Eleor, her partner Frank Pratt - but when it came down to doing their job, those quarrels vanished.  It seemed a load of bollocks that their superiors couldn't do the same.  But then, Aurors faced life and death encounters that the brass never did. 

"Happy to hear it.  Is that all, sir?"  If his offers to help were not sincere, or impeded upon his ego too much, Zora could find better things to do.  She knew she hated meetings for a reason.