He'd been at the office all weekend -- surveying, interviewing, following leads -- which was why it was something of a relief when Monday morning finally rolled around.  The representative from Gringotts Bank had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome on the premises until after their day had a chance to get going.  That meant that he had no option but to set the Corpus Inversus investigation aside, take a deep breath, and work on something else.

It had taken some doing to track down the case file that he was looking for.  In the end, he should have already known that it would have been stashed away in Tamis's office.  Jonas wasn't sure if the Head Auror had kept it there because she wanted to keep it away from him, or because she wanted to keep it out of sight of the others; considering that she knew how often he entered her private space to check up on her appointment book, her reasoning was most likely the latter.  Or maybe, she simply wanted to be aware of when he finally decided to access it.  That option probably sounded the most like Tamis: looking out for him and keeping a wary eye on him all at once.

Either way, he thought as he flipped through the folder, reacquainting himself with his own handwriting from a dozen years before, it wasn't as if he was looking now because he was curious.  It was simply an exercise; an example that he could use with the trainees.  It didn't matter what had happened in the end, or what had become of this particular investigation.  It wasn't personal anymore, not after so long.

Jonas had been one of the first ones in the office that morning, but a slamming door, heavy footsteps, and the sound of someone fumbling for coffee told him that that was no longer the case.  The red-haired Auror straightened up, nonchalantly flipping the case file shut and shuffling it under some papers on his desk.  Leaning back in his chair, he tilted back until he could catch sight of the new arrival who had just made it in.

"Pratt!" he called cheerfully.  Ed Pratt was not at his most chipper in the morning, but Jonas rarely let that deter him.  He stayed leaning back in his chair to catch the other man's eye, flashing the northern Auror a bright grin as he started by, presumably to his own desk.  "How's it, then?  You know, funniest thing happened over the weekend," he continued in a conversational tone, still grinning.  This sort of thing was the very best way to start the week.  "I got a letter from Gwen.  She's been writing every so often, but not as much since the term started -- have you been hearing much from Noah?" he inquired, completely innocently.

The voice was so perky, so happy, so Cornish. So much like a farmer leprechaun with ginger hair and an annoying grin. Pratt didn’t want to deal with that right now. He hadn’t finished his second morning coffee yet. In fact, he hadn’t even started it. And he was expected to engage the ginger baboon in conversation? To bond over their kids being friends as if it would further push those two to become the bosom buddies Jonas had always wished for? Eddie grunted something as he took the first sip of his coffee and started walking towards his cubicle; unfortunately also in Trevelyan’s direction. Bloody gingers…

“I’ve been hearing about him. Boy doesn’t really do owling. Or writing.” Or studying. Eddie stopped outside of Jonas’s cubicle and leaned against the wall, eyeing the ginger through bright green eyes, newspaper shoved under his arm as he cradled the coffee close to him. This was his life support, the thing that got him through the day. His addiction.

And Noah was his pain in the arse. Noah was the troublesome son that seemed to be failing every class going and would no doubt cause Trevelyan to gloat gallingly about his little princess who was doing oh so well. Eddie disliked gloaters. Unless it was him.

“So what hilarity happened this weekend? You found a soul to steal?” It truly was best to move the conversation from their offspring. Pratt would have been happy to shackle his to a desk.

"Really?" Jonas asked brightly.  "Sounds like he's been writing quite a few notes to Gwenna.  You reckon maybe he's just spreading his wings?" 

The relationship between their children was not a great concern to the red-haired Auror.  If Gwenna was going to make a questionable decision about a boy, it was likely to be along the lines of biting him in public or convincing him to help her mug a professor; his daughter was thankfully a few years too young to be thinking about back hallways and storage cupboards, and if Jonas had anything to say about it, she never would.  But Pratt seemed less than pleased about the budding friendship.  He'd been less than pleased to begin with, back when Noah had been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin.  The fact that he'd quickly found a kindred spirit in Jonas's daughter did not seem to have helped Ed's opinion of his son.

Jonas completely ignored the comment about soul stealing; Pratt had a way of confusing red heads with Dementors.

"Well, she mentioned that you'd stopped in to visit.  Sounds like the kids were worried that you were there to arrest their Astronomy professor," he said bemusedly.  Tapendra Trishna was not the most likely criminal on the Hogwarts campus; if Jonas had to put down money on who was likely to be arrested, he would have wagered in a different direction. 

"But she said something about Noah getting Trolls in most of his classes, too?"  He arched his eyebrows, looking entirely too entertained by this fact as he regarded his coworker.  "Too bad, innit?  He sounds like a smart bloke, from what Gwen's said about him.  Takes after you in all the right ways, I'd think."

It was true. Noah was very much like his father. But while Ed had been troublesome at school, he’d always got the grades to make up for it. Noah lacked the drive or interest to actually do so and Ed was at a loss as to what to do about it apart from threaten him and punish him. But what would that get him other than a strained relationship with his oldest son?  Pratt was stressed about it and Paddy proceeded to grin at his misfortune. That pale ginger face would have looked so much better with a broken nose right then.

Was that a compliment or even more insult? Ed regarded the other auror with suspicion. It wasn’t that he hated his son being friends with Trevelyan’s sprogg. Noah could do what he liked. But now Paddy seemed to think they have a personal connection, something to bond over in the workplace and Pratt didn’t like that. He didn’t talk about his kids at work. Personal life and work were kept separate. Especially after last March.

“I never got a troll. He’s bright. He lacks…concentration.” A sip of coffee was slowly taken. Paddy looked too happy. Had he figured what Ed’s meeting had been about? “I don’t suppose those notes from yer lass are too helpful. He’s easy enough distracted.” But it wasn’t Paddy’s fault. Ed knew that. Or Gwenna’s. It was Noah’s lack of motivation to actually listen to his professors and work.

“He ‘ent thick. But some of them have already written him off, poor lad.”

Jonas grimaced, making a face that was his best approximation of sympathy.  As much as he might ride Pratt, the real travails of parenting were not something for which he would ever fault the other Auror.  He understood all too well what it felt like to be plunged into the great mystery of children, when despite the fact that certain behaviors seemed completely illogical, one still couldn't force one's offspring to comply.

"I'm sorry to hear it, mate," he said, completely genuinely.  "We went through that a bit with Gwen, back at her Muggle school.  It's a bit worse there, though -- everyone and their bloody mother knows  when you've been asked in for a conference."

Which Pratt evidently had been, and which the haranguing of he was now unfortunately going to have to drop.  He doubted that the other man wanted commiseration; and besides, it wasn't as if the situation with Gwenna could quite compare.  Reading between the lines in his daughter's letters, it seemed as if Noah's trouble stemmed from the fact that he didn't put in effort.  Gwenna had fallen under attention due to the fact that she'd repeatedly insisted that her life's aspiration was to grow up and become a zombie.

"Well, I'm glad they're mates anyhow," he said, changing the subject slightly.  "The whole magical world bit is still a little new to Gwenna, so it's good that she's got Noah there to help.  I remember what it was like back when I was starting out at Hogwarts.  The whole thing can be a bit overwhelming when you're Muggleborn."

For a moment Eddie pondered Trevelyan’s words. He remembered how magical Hogwarts had been, how exciting. But for a few years he’d heard stories about it from Dan. Never really exciting stories as Dan had been a boring well behaved loser but stories nonetheless. Ed had known what to expect and had grown up with magic around him. His mum had been a pureblooded witch, his father muggleborn yet with more magical family. The wizarding world hadn’t been new to Ed and it certainly wasn’t new to Noah. But Ed knew Jonas’s wife was a muggleborn. His kids hadn’t grown up in the same environment.

“Well Noh’s grade’s tell me it’s overwhelming fer ‘im as well. Too much to distract him. Too little interest in actual work.” The auror shrugged and stepped into Paddy’s cubicle, leaning against the other auror’s desk. “They’ll get there. Noh ‘ent even mentioned Gwenna. Not that he owls unless I bug him to write to his mam. I swear the kid’s forget about his family at home.”

“Anyway…” The wizard took a sip of his coffee and placed the mug on Jonas’s desk, folding his arms over his chest. “You worked with Musgrave? The auror that got sent down for helping with torture and trials during the war?”

"The Auror who what?"  Jonas gave the other wizard an uncertain look.  It had been a year since he'd officially returned to the Auror Office, but in all that time, he'd yet to sit down and really read an account about the end of the Second War.  He still didn't know the full extent of who had lived and who had died; no idea of which missing faces simply had yet to resurface, and which had disappeared forever. 

In many ways, it was easier just not to know.  He'd much rather assume that an old friend was dead and hold out for the hope that he might be pleasantly surprised one day, rather than check some sanitized list and know for certain.  But Jonas had a feeling that the 'pleasant surprises' were now becoming few and far between.  It was hard to imagine that that many of his old friends and colleagues had really vanished into quiet retirement.  Dan Pratt, Ed's older brother and a former Auror, had been one of the mysteries that had resolved itself for the worse. 

Musgrave was one of the ones that he hadn't known about.  Jonas frowned as he tried to recall him: a tall, weedy Auror with a straightforward manner and a mop of dark, curly hair.

"Musgrave was involved in torture?" he asked disbelievingly.  "Lawrence Musgrave?  You're sure?"  He hated this feeling -- like he was a decade behind everyone else, like the entire world had gone on without him, and he only sometimes caught up.  Jonas hesitated, looking cautiously at Pratt -- he wasn't sure if the other Auror would throw down with him for not knowing.  "What did he do?"

Well at last they were discussing a topic other than his son’s failing grades and relationship with the ginger’s sprog. Eddie didn’t much appreciate the prospect of small ginger Cornish people wondering around his cottage. His puppy Winston was enough trouble when he didn’t have the kids. Discussing Trevelyan’s failings at keeping up with life was a far more inviting topic to delve into.

Eddie looked rather smug as he stepped further into the office and sat himself on the edge of Jonas’ desk.
“I’m as sure as you are a carrot top.” The auror stated, basking in this great knowledge that Paddy lacked. “Musgrave did exactly what an auror with a conscience should not and he got sent down for it as he should. Pureblood shit got high on the power of Voldemort’s take over and got what he deserved.”

With a small frown now, Pratt took a sip of coffee, letting it slowly slip down his throat before he got to the point.
“He got released first thing this mornin’.”

Where the comparison to the top of a carrot had ever originated, Jonas didn't know.  The simile would have made more sense if it had been referring to green hair; after all, the bushy part of the vegetable was the only section that wasn't orange.  But far be it for him to point that out to Pratt.  Acting contrary towarsd the other Auror's nicknames would only make his use of them worse.

Besides, he wasn't really in the state of mind to quibble.  This was new information, the situation with Musgrave.  Jonas frowned, steepling his fingers together as he leaned back in his chair. 

This was the part of the magical world that he'd never quite come to terms with.  Musgrave had never struck him as a purist; he'd always been perfectly decent, even to his Muggle-born colleagues.  Back in the day, Jonas had had nothing against him.  And then suddenly to find out that his former coworker had been imprisoned for abetting the crimes that had driven him away...even when he'd seen the world fall apart around him, it still felt so long ago that it was hard to reconcile. 

And it didn't help to know that someone who had evidently been perfectly happy to see him and his kind get marched off to eternity in Azkaban was now strolling out of the prison himself.  Even now, his stomach was twisting a little at the thought of it.  Jonas took a deep breath, heaving it out again.  Time wouldn't stop ticking on just because he was uncomfortable with the thought of coming face to face with some old potential oppressor.  This was the sort of potentially avoidable discomfort that he would much rather confront head on.

"Well, that'll be one worth keeping an eye on then, innit?"  He cleared his throat, and then met Pratt's gaze, his own expression perfectly nonchalant.  "Don't know where he's due to surface, do you, mate?  I can't imagine he's going to swing by work to chat the lot of us up."