8:44pm, Friday
11 June 2010
Main Corridor, Level Three

They arrived back at Level Three, dirty and amuss.  Even though Quill Som had directed them straight to the hospital, one Obliviator was limping with assistance from a Muggle Worthy Agent.  Quill herself looked like a hurricane in a bell jar.  Her jaw was set, her shoulders were back, but she looked like hell.

They were just in from Nottinghamshire where Dementors had set upon a crowded muggle funeral.  The muggles couldn't see the blights, of course, and just began dropping one by one.  It was only so lucky for them that the undertaker was a squib and knew how to contact the proper authorities.

And the proper authorities were Edwin Glass's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.  It had been interdepartmental of course. Everything was interdepartmental under Zephyr.  There's been Aurors, Healers from Mungo's, and totally baffled people from Creatures.  No one knew what to do with the Dementors other than scare them off.

"Gas leak," she said by way of explanation[1], tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear and straightening her collar.  "Excuse Committee came up with 'gas leak'.  Outdoor gas leak."

It was clear that the rigid administrator wasn't completely satisfied.  With a long blink, she took a deep breath and directed instructions to others in the posse.

"I said St. Mungo's. You can file your report from the waiting room, please."

"Find Glass for me."

"Please, bring water."

Quill Som wasn't too old to be in the field.  She was fifty-three - still young for a witch. But she felt like she'd aged a decade in a night.[2]

1.	to whoever is there!
2.	Anyone from any Department or St. Mungo's could find a reason to be here, I'm sure!

Achieved as intended.

The three words were written in the middle of the pink memo in familiar handwriting and were enough to make Edwin hold his breath without consciously realising. He had been out at Hogwarts, enjoying a gathering to cap the Tournament off as the foreigners were off, and the Hogwarts students would be on the train in the morning. The alarm about the dementors hadn't been raised until it was absolutely necessary to summon him back. Som and the night shift were well prepared, but when the need for mass obliviation of a funeral party was clear, he had to return to London.

"They're back." Prewett rapped on Edwin's office door sharply and made the Head of Catastrophes jump ever so slightly. He drew his wand and the memo burst into flames, all record of it gone in the blink of an eye, leaving the uncomfortable thought of what level nine had potentially achieved while his own Department protected Muggles.

He opened his office door and crossed the main office to greet them, his eyes taking in their appearance above ruddy cheeks.
"Has the situation been made safe?" He asked directly, keen to establish if they were returning while others carried on, or whether matters were resolved. "Any casualties?" Answers had to be immediate, exact.

"Prewett," He snapped his fingers at the member of the committee, "report back to Knight, and see that the Daily Prophet has enough to be sated." His gaze took in Som's appearance, though his expression did not appear sympathetic but serious, which is exactly how Quill dealt with all matters anyhow.

"How many, and what triggered it? Slim pickings of happy thoughts a funeral?" He frowned.

Quill had been in a chair for a breath only ere she was handed a glass of water for one hand and served a thick file in the other.  She carried both over to an arbitrary desk and began taking quill to parchment.  With a glance and a nod, she bade Obliviators to dictate their report to her. 

So by the time Edwin Glass was on the deck, Quill had most of what she needed. 

"Good evening, Mr. Glass."

A cold greeting, but between these two it was a warm embrace.  Som and Glass were nearly the same height although Glass was more imposing, and there was little else about the look of them they had in common.  Broad versus straight, ruddy against dark. 

"Not clear.  Mr. Sticks - the squib undertaker - couldn't see them either, just knew what to look for.  Might thank the PSAs for that.  Four dementors when the advance team arrived, lost track of one in the eleven minutes it took for the full brigade to land."

She flipped a page and frowned.  "Twelve muggles were downed.  Three were well enough to be sorted in the field - chocolate and a cheerful memory charm.  Eight were taken to St. Mungo's for evaluation and we'll know their conditions shortly. And one perished.  Heart attack."

Quill Som sighed.  It was deeply sad.  A family already in grief to be stricken with another senseless and definitely inexplicable tragedy.  But there wasn't time or purpose to dwell on that.  Nasty thoughts only attracted the things, anyway.  Or so they said.

"Regulation & Control are following current recommended procedure - use Patroni to drive them at high altitude to the sea, although one may still be unaccounted for.  Is that really their best option?"

She shook her head.  She didn't care for that Department.  If it wasn't Dementors it was dragons and if it wasn't dragons it was hippogryffs.

"… lost track of one in the eleven minutes it took for the full brigade to land." Edwin nodded, though his mind was already wondering if the missing dementor was he one the memo alluded to.

"… is that really their best option?"

"For now, yes, Som." Edwin confirmed, though his tone was not approving nor brisk about the fact. It wasn't efficient and staff needed good rest afterwards. If Gamp and his unknown team would get on with their research of a few other methods…

"The Muggle, heart attack - passed to the Muggle authorities to deal, yes? Police all up to speed? Good!" Edwin clapped his hands together. "This is what I like to hear - considering the focus is on Hogwarts and the end of term with our foreign visitors, I am pleased to hear they were causing havoc in Nottinghamshire instead." He smiled, genuine pleasure in his voice which was perhaps more than a little unsettling in his Department staff. They might put it down to the fact Edwin had been up at the school sharing wine with the guests and was a little merry.

"Well done each of you, I've notified the relief shift to get in earlier, so they're on their way to let you get back and rest. Mysteries may want a word - a few questions about what you saw, perhaps take a few memories. You all know the drill." There wasn't really an option, though Mysteries had only just started sniffing around to collect memories of the events with dementors as a way of collecting plenty of data.

"You seem cheery," Quill Som observed after a few blithely macabre comments from the Department Head.  She didn't disapprove but she was herself generally more tightly wound.  "Especially considering there's a Dementor unaccounted for."

She noted these sidebars even as she was scanning her notes for the information he requested vis a vis the dealing with Muggle law enforcement.

"Muggle, adult male, elderly..." she flipped the page, "sent to Mansfield Community Hospital. And Muggle police arrived approximately 12 minutes after our team arrived," she glanced up to do the arithmetic for Glass, "that's 36 minutes after we recieved the report from the undertaker."

She flipped another page.  "Muggle Worth Excuse Agent assigned to the area's preliminary report is that the police aren't buying  the gas leak and are considering the possibility of some kind of chemical attack.  MWE will be working to satisfy."

"I'm requesting the rest of the reports before end of day."

She waited stiffly but patiently at his flank as he addressed the team, but as soon as he was finished, took his attention again.

"Mysteries? I didn't see any of them on the ground."  Som appreciated interdepartment cooperation - so long as it wasn't Mysteries who were not overfond of sharing.  "I assume I can't expect any meaingful reports from them?"

"Does anyone ever see them?" Edwin countered at Som's question, and raised an eyebrow at the latter query. Mysteries didn't answer to them at all. He slid his hands into his suit trouser pockets as he did, his jacket bunching up above his wrists. 

"They may have their own theories as to why the dementors are increasing, after all." He remarked to Quill, considering the team could probably have supposed that without any information, his Deputy included. She was still flipping pages and taking notes, so he should probably leave her be, but she'd asked questions, and he had enough wine in him to feel more comfortable about elaborating.

"The traditional ways of letting them feast on the remaining glee of the Azkaban inmates no longer available to us, so we have to find more… ethical… solutions. We can't be off netting them every other day after all."

Quill Som did a fair job of concealing a sigh.  This was ground trod upon before, the dilemma of Azkaban and the mystery of how to decimate the Dementors. 

"If you'd just allow me accompany you to the Interdepartmental meetings, I could be of some use.  The Minister's been calling for it, but I'm still not seeing any reciprocity. I send full and abridged facsimiles of all relevant material to Mysteries and Creatures, but they're not returning the favor," she clipped.

But that was the thing - it was clear there was more going on that was actually documented.  She assumed there were interdepartmental meetings, but she also couldn't be sure.  And that made her ill.

She took a few paces so she could speak with Glass more privately and she did so in a tight whisper that was characteristic of Som.

"And this net - not a shred of paperwork on it.  The Daily Prophet knows as much about it as we do."

"… the MInister's been calling for it…"

"I know, and your notes and research are second to none, but the MInister calls for a lot of things, but it doesn't necessarily mean she's right."

His eyes creased up at the side as she whispered more closely, and he frowned at her comparison with their knowledge to the Daily Prophet's. Although the paper did have eyes everywhere, he did feel a little frustration himself as to not being able to deploy the net
"Possibly for good reason, Quill. Nine aren't always as ethical as the general public would like. The net might be dark magic, but it's a visible, proactive approach in the eyes of the press."

Edwin shuffled his feet slightly and slid his hands into his pockets,
"Look, if you needed to know something, I would tell you. You'd be the first person to tell." He tried to adopt a sympathetic and reassuring expression, but he had the suspicion even this approach would frustrate Som. She wanted to know everything in exquisite detail.

Why didn't he just pat her on the head!

Quill Som scoffed openly and rolled her eyes.  She even turned away to leave this silly man on his own, but had to turn right back around, upper lip stiff.

"I don't care about Nine's ethics, Mr. Glass.  But if things don't change around here, they're going to be just the same as before and there will be consequences.  I need paperwork on these things.  We'll classify them if we have to, because I am not looking forward to the inevitable moment we fall on our faces - and find that it's Gamp holding the cord."

She lifted her chin and her nostrils quietly flared.  "And we're still missing one." 

That was less at Glass and more reminding herself of a rather large item on her to do list. 

If anything, the few hours of jet lag that Adon was still staving off was a help, rather than a hindrance.  Adon was already beyond feeling like it was time for sleep, and the after-adrenaline rush was swooping in.  What was a few more hours of work? 

So, fresh from the scene and prepped with several hours worth of reading of case files and sundry documents, Adon had made his way to Level Three.  He had been ordered--by someone in that mess--to go to Mungo's.  Adon had all but Apparated there to realize, to his dismay, that the Healers were flustered and bustling to treat the Muggles.  And that none--or very few, at any rate--of the initial response team were present.  He'd only had time for a quick Patronus from one of their staff assistants to request pertinent files.

Jaw set, he'd flood immediately to the Ministry, collected the amassed files, then shouldered his way to Level Three and was immediately gratified in his assumptions.  He already saw the tell-tale signs of a long night: the key players vaguely shuffling about a man and, at his side, a woman--who he had identified from earlier events as a "Ms Som" or other--and a man he didn't know. But probably should.

Initially, Adon's investment in the London Ministry had been marginal.  He had never thought to have been a permanent installment, and even when that began to change, his hasty departure never gave the option to return.  Over half a year of negligence had dulled his recall.  He'd never been good with names, but he could see their black-and-white faces smiling from the Ministerial directory.  Names, positions, personalities--if he'd ever known them, seemed lost.

It would be a lot of catching up, he realized ruefully as he approached the woman Som and the man, sensing a potential for tension between them--their lowered voices--but with the British--who damn well looked irascible every day of the year, it as hard to tell.  And things needed to get done...Well, first things first. With a soldier's squared shoulders, Adon approached the pair--clearly the ringleaders of this ersatz committee--and tucked the files under an arm, extending his free hand.  "Auror Adon Eleor," he said, "I was present at the site."

He looked around; several Obliviators and Healers--whose faces he could also place at the site--were glancing at him sidelong.  Did he catch an eyeroll?  In hindsight, that information was likely superfluous and certainly didn't give him any greater level of importance.  He pressed on.  "I intend to check in with Level Two and will be preparing the official report there shortly.  I wanted to make sure, since we've seemed to have congregated here, to make sure I was apprised of any further steps that you lot tend to take?" Before they were set into motion went unsaid.

He looked expectantly between the two, something in his demeanor softening somewhat with an affable smile.  "I'm sorry--if I seem a bit disoriented in this.  I'm trying to get to speed quickly," he shifted the weight of the files briefly, "but I only returned to my posting this morning. I have already taken down Ari Stamp's official statement--in brief.  He will come in for an interview tomorrow.  And cnce I've read up--hopefully before then--I've been given permission from the healers to visit their patients for further questioning." Not that the poor Muggles would likely even begin to give a comprehensible sort of examination of matters.  While Adon understood, to some degree, the necessity of Obliviating, it had a tendency of causing absolute hell for witness testimonies down the line.  "I just don't want to be working at cross-purposes with any other efforts."

Damned if he'd let the whole entourage speak to them before he got the chance.  He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

A wizard came upon them in Som and Glass's silence and Som was quick to change focus.  She had always been good at multi-tasking. (It left little time to let the mind wander into grim corners.)  He introduced himself. She looked him up and down.

"I know who you are," she said by way of greeting.  Someone who was expecting niceties would be offended. Someone with more pragmatic expectations would find her manner sufficient.

She let him finish with his report, nodding at two different points to affirm his intended protocols.  "Good."

However...

"You won't be speaking with any muggles without one of our people with you.  Since you say you're new, you should know: this is all interdepartmental from now on.  Straight from the Minister's office.  Everything interdepartmental, everything accountable. Everything by the book. Hm?"

Quill Som was doing her best to give this Auror the benefit of the doubt. She had always found most Aurors to be undependable concerning interdepartmental cooperation, accountability and paperwork. They were cowboys.  But this fellow, Auror Eleor, he had made a good first impression.  She noted that he spoke with an accent.  Her mother did as well.  She didn't

"I'll assign someone from the Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee to go with you to St. Mungo's." Immediately worried he would bristle, she added with a sigh and turn of her head. "You'll take lead, but we need the Committee there.

"I know who you are," she informed him with an unapologetic directness.  Well, that statement about summed her up.  He couldn't say he was very surprised.  Her sort of strong, crisp presence had filled the room since his arrival, even when looking haggard.  In a way, it was reassuring.  Adon had had no trouble working with Brits like that--so long as they kept to the task.  It was when they started making idle conversation about the weather...

That prim meaninglessness of British mannerisms he hadn't quite perfected.  It made him restless.  He glanced at the man beyond Som, wondering if that was what he was like.

With an amused smile, he considered just how he was known to them.   Did she know him as the Auror that had ruffled feathers by carrying--naively--an assault rifle on a patrol?  As the brother of the missing head of MAO?  When they didn't have fires to put out, he might get around to asking.

He was certain he'd get his chance.  It seemed like he'd be seeing a fair bit of Level Three in the future.  "Ah, well.  I love the book.  Far be it from me to counteract anything that came Straight From The Minister's Office," he gave an acquiescent bow of his head. He hoped they could handle a bit of impertinence better than he could tolerate weather-talk.  Surely, in their knowledge of him that must have come across at some point? If not, they were receiving an education.

Adon supposed he himself didn't know precisely, how he felt about this new interdeparmental effort--it sounded like a headache for those officials far above his pay grade--but opinions at the point in the game were futile.  It was here that years of training as a soldier came in handy: you received your task--what you were told to do--and you did it well.  Once completed, you gathered your next task, and you performed that just as efficiently.  Adon wasn't particularly thrilled to have an Excuse-Maker present during his interview, but he'd make do.

In the murky area of this new, interdepartmental Ministry, as well as with the new changes on Level 2, he supposed that Som's inclusion of her own personnel made as much sense and took as much priority as any.  So long as the paperwork was adequately filled out and the appropriate signatures gathered. All government was the same: parchment rolls, wax seals, dry speeches, and meetings, meetings, meetings.

"I will expect your representative at St. Mungo's.  I'll add to that a representative from the Muggle Affairs Office.  Make it," he pause to prepare the next four words in a round, drawling English accent, "a grand old party." That had turned out rather well. Perhaps he should try that accent more often. Clearing his throat, he resumed.  "First thing in the morning--7 am.  Mungo's healers informed me that it was too late for questions tonight--visiting hours only until 9.  They are keeping them overnight to be overly cautious, but expect they should be free to go by mid-morning." His smile grew wry, "Paperwork permitting, of course."  He supposed they'd generate a fair bit of it themselves.

There was one more thing.  Adon paused, considering the duo cautiously.  Historically, in any law enforcement office, this was the primary point of contention.  The ever bothersome Statute of Secrecy. "One more thing.  We cannot permit Obliviators  into the patients' presence while they are..." he paused. Incarcerated? Checked-in? "--recovering  at Mungo's.  And absolutely no obliviating until it has been determined whether or not they are needed as witnesses for testimony."  He'd be prepared to dole out any paperworks or signatures needed to stay their hands, but he would not let that damned Statute impede their progress. He was frustrated enough that the Obliviators had already made quick work out of most of the Muggles present.  For a law enforcement stance, it was aggravating.  From a humanist stance--he recalled Jacoba's fears of having her memory wiped, utterly powerless.  He recalled his friend Yon's addled memory, the result of an Obliviator's botched and quick work.  It had taken him a good two weeks to remember his own birth day.  He frowned; Som had not been unreasonable.  He added, tone a bit softer, though his expression visibly pinched, "The supervising Auror will be in touch when that is cleared to go."

He was just like Glass! Were these two wizards drunk this afternoon? There had just been another catastrophe, and these two found it all a joke.  Gallows humor.  She'd never understand it.

Quill Som rolled her eyes and was very near to letting this Auror's paperwork speak for him, when he suggested that the Oblviators be restrained.  She had a few words about that.

"All muggles witnesses to magic are Obliviated in the field, Auror Eleor.  And those under care at St. Mungo's will be Obliviated and released as soon as possible before they're missed by their families.  I'm sorry if you've been misinformed."  She furrowed her brows in sincere concern.  She knew that some disagreed with Obliviation and found it disruptive, but it was absolutely necessary.  As little contact as possible with muggles was a key principle of their department. 

She looked to Glass for his affirmation. 

The two Department leaders were stuck at odds for the moment and Eleor's interruption was a relief to Edwin in defusing matters for a short moment. He observed the interchange between this auror and his Deputy for a few moments, while taking in the wider Department's motions, large ears picking out snippets of conversation around them. He was glad Som was on duty tonight, she had it handled.

"The statements of obliviated Muggles are hardly informative, Auror." Edwin remarked, "Besides, they do not see dementors, they just feel. Stamp's the only witness of use. There has been no evidence so far to suggest that dementors are attacking for any more than their own hunger." His tone indicated pity that this auror was so ill informed of recent developments, whereas really he prickled at level two having much to do with it all.

"A more worthwhile exploration would be to review magical traces within the local area." He advised Adon, "There's still a theory from your floor that the dementors are working with dark wizards. Not that I see any particular motive in sending a swarm of them to a funeral, but the fact these people are not happy does make one wonder why dementors were there at all, unless they were simply finding weak pickings to extract souls from."

"All muggles witnesses to magic are Obliviated in the field, Auror Eleor.  And those under care at St. Mungo's will be Obliviated and released as soon as possible before they're missed by their families.  I'm sorry if you've been misinformed." 

"I'm sorry if you have been misinformed that [insert opponent's viewpoint here]" held as much rhetorical sway as  "No offense, but [insert offensive comment here]"

It was the sort of grating insincerity that he'd hoped that someone like Som--direct and straightforward--would not have been prone to.  To add to the smarting insult, when Glass informed him which witnesses were of use, Adon nodded stiffly, lips whitening as he pressed them together.  Years as a minor officer in the Israeli army taught him well to respect rank, and when to concede.

"Yes, yes, I see," he acknowledged to both of them.  "And I appreciate, sir, your expert opinion in this matter, and expect me to be in very close touch, so that we can build off of each others' findings."  He gave a wry smile, reciting the piece of bureaucratic mumblings he'd heard just moments before.  "As a unified Ministry, we cannot do this job thoroughly without each other's assistance." It sounded so laughably lofty, echoed from a jet-lagged Auror, that he shook his head with a light sigh.  "But we will look into all angles.  I will call in support if needed, to perform a close inspection of the scene at hand as soon as possible."  No doubt the 'support' would likely be limited to himself. Maybe a straggling Auror.  Who needed sleep, anyhow?

His list of action items continued.

"I will also relay your views to a contact in the Magical Creatures division whose expertise may be particularly key: Alberic Grimm.  I will have him deliver his findings to you. Expect these by the end of tomorrow."   And now for the final point.  His tone softened slightly, and he looked to both of them.  His squared shoulders seemed to drop, and he toss his hands up in the air slightly. 

"I really do hope you understand that it is my job and procedural obligation to follow up with every witness possible, and I must account to my superiors on this matter once it is done.  As I have said, we cannot accomplish this without mutual cooperation. Which entails a bit of compromise, I think."  Som was not happy.  Glass was dismissive.  And Adon was not any happier than either of them, but his feelings didn't matter.   After all, Adon was a subordinate of so many, carrying out rules and enforcing others.  They may dislike him all they wanted.  But he was responsible for actual deliverables.  And they needed answers.

"Your division and mine both have our procedures, but they are not at odds--as you may think.  What we are speaking of is mere issue of sequence.  The Muggles at Mungo's need to be cared for, I must interview them, and they need to be Obliviated, and they then need to be returned to their families.  Why not proceed in this order? It does not lengthen their return by more than mere minutes, and in this way, it does not obstruct the course of the investigation."