Warrington and Hughes were examining the living room behind him as Xin and Miranda engaged in some better questions. As much as she wanted to question Miranda, Ignan also wanted to know what on earth had happened.

"… I asked him what he wanted and he said me." Ignan visibly bristled at the statement. It was the way it was phrased - not her skills, not her knowledge, her. It was possessive, and much as Ignan did not consider him Miranda's 'owner' in the archaic form of marriage, he didn't like any other wizard encroaching on his territory. That and the thought of anyone frightening Miranda made him want to do worse things to them in return.

"He'd get really angry, as if a rage consumed him before suddenly he retreated." The wizard sounded unhinged. Why was he keeping so close to dementors? Had he been attacked and was seeking help from Miranda?

"Was he here when you returned home from the hospital?" Ignan asked, forgetting a moment that he was not the one conducting the interview. "Gerda arrived back after he left?" The house elf nodded cautiously, her ears flattened back against her head like a nervous horse.

"Can you describe him? How was he dressed?" He followed Miranda's answer, and then remembered himself, glancing to Auror Xin.

Pencil busily scribbling in her own jointed, closely looped handwriting, Adrianna watched as the words came into view. Some things were not adding up with what she'd assumed at first. It was best if she started from scratch with this one. She gently pushed the pencil to the next line - it wasn't actually configured yet to the pad - and looked back up to the taller lady, listening intently. All focus and ears on her, because she felt something was more than amiss and the pieces might be right here.

"Did he know about you before this?" she asked. "And--" She was duly interrupted by the older wizard, immediately silencing her but now including him in her focus. His questions were justified, they were definitely questions an auror - or at least a sufficiently restless head - would put forward.

"I would like to know the answers to those questions as well. Please, take your time to recall," she added to his words. "As much detail as you can will help in the investigations." There may be a lead here, though she was hoping against hope that it wouldn't lead up to something that failed right at the end. It had been hard enough for the other aurors to find people who could remember their encounters with Musgrave.

There was a barrage of questions from both the auror and her husband who was conveniently and evidently a former auror. Dark tired eyes shot between the two figures in the room. Firstly resting on the only auror who had arrived at their home that she wasn’t familiar with, Mira wondered how much good this witch could actually do to catch Musgrave when she was simply stood here questioning a very high up witch who she’d never heard of. Both figures stood above her, looking down at the woman who’d suddenly found out how vulnerable she could be.

The realisation caused still shaking hands to take another cigarette from her pocket and bring it to her lips to light. The female auror confirmed wanting answer to Ignan’s questions and Miranda took a moment to think, taking a long drag on what her brothers had always called a ‘death stick’.

“Of course he knew about me, most people do.” She wasn’t being immodest; it was a fact that Head Healer Miranda Elliot was a very well known and respected (if not liked) witch. “He was in the kitchen when I arrived; the house was dark; Gerda normally leaves it lit. I couldn’t see him but there was a figure in the doorway. He asked for chocolate. There was no sign of alarm at my being there; he was expecting me and he knew I was no challenge defence wise.” A quick glance was cast towards her husband before she looked back to the auror.

“I knew Musgrave well at school.” She was getting agitated, frustrated. “I was shocked to find you people had released him from Azkaban. He hasn’t even got a home he can bathe in properly; he’s showing numerous signs of homelessness and the ministry can’t even find him!”

Knew Musgrave from school. Knew target was vulnerable. Asked for chocolate. Spoke of voices in head. Adrianna did not like where this was going, but she hadn't the time to sit down and reflect about her notes. On the surface the implications from her notes were flashing bright lights and making more noise as decoy detonators. She silenced that ruckus in her head.

"He hasn’t even got a home he can bathe in properly; he’s showing numerous signs of homelessness and the ministry can’t even find him!” The auror gently pursed her lips a little in abject shame. Though she had mostly been in Wales and Musgrave seemed to have made London his stomping ground, it was still the Auror Office's responsibility as a whole and she felt to be part of that as well. Musgrave was as elusive as a lethifold, and just as deadly considering what she suspected him of doing right now.

"Could you tell me more about what you know of him?" she asked, the idea given to her by how little she knew of him apart from the notes they had. Yes, there were many aurors in the Office that had known him, but she didn't and as far as she was concerned she was the one asking questions. A fool for a night rather than forever. "Would he have a penchant for this sort of behaviour, or supported certain ideals that led to his activities today? You wouldn't have possibly known what they would have become, but at least knowing the seed of it might help in being able to predict his patterns."

“I’ve really no idea, auror.” A drag of the cigarette was taken as Miranda tried to think back to her schooling. “I really paid him no mind.” Just as now, Miranda hadn’t been the friendliest. She’d been too focused on her own work and success to bother with anyone else. But as she considered it, she did remember one thing.

“Willy.” She muttered under her breath as smoke rose into the air from her lips. “One of his thoughts; he should have made Willy stay. There was a Willy at Hogwarts. Rather, William. Shufflebottom. He was as thick as a troll with a head injury.” It seemed random but perhaps it was something of a lead that would direct the aurors in the right way finally.

Ignan would have felt conspicuously tall above both witches had he not been entirely concentrated on what Miranda was explaining to Auror Xin.

“Of course he knew about me, most people do.” Most people did - Miranda and Ignan were both recognisable if one read the papers, but Miranda was far more recognisable given the recent issues with the hospital’s supplies and Witch Weekly’s spurious notions. “He was in the kitchen when I arrived; the house was dark; Gerda normally leaves it lit.” Ignan looked to Gerda who was wringing her hands. The elf nodded in agreement, attentive to her mistress. "I couldn’t see him but there was a figure in the doorway. He asked for chocolate. There was no sign of alarm at my being there; he was expecting me and he knew I was no challenge defence wise.” Miranda’s quick glance was met with a lowering of Ignan’s gaze. Despite the impossibility of him being there all the time, he couldn’t stop himself feeling furious he wasn’t there.

“I knew Musgrave well at school. I was shocked to find you people had released him from Azkaban. He hasn’t even got a home he can bathe in properly; he’s showing numerous signs of homelessness and the Ministry can’t even find him!” The fact he was homeless as Miranda suggested put Lawrence’s situation even more tricky to track. He doubtless could move on at a moment’s notice and might not frequent the same places or follow a pattern. Without willing informants and witnesses to say they’d seen him, the aurors had little to go on. However, Miranda recognising him meant his appearance had not significantly changed over and above natural ageing or illness. Someone would spot him. Either that or he was being sheltered for some reason.

"Could you tell me more about what you know of him? Would he have a penchant for this sort of behaviour, or supported certain ideals that led to his activities today? You wouldn't have possibly known what they would have become, but at least knowing the seed of it might help in being able to predict his patterns.” Auror Xin asked. It seemed like a very open question, but Miranda was intelligent enough to consider an answer if she wasn’t too rattled.

“I’ve really no idea, auror.” Perhaps not then. He observed Miranda furrowing her brow. “I really paid him no mind.” Ignan wondered if there might be something to jog her memory, perhaps photograph or common history. The auror looked younger, too young perhaps to have worked with Musgrave or known him at school. Ignan was about to open his mouth to suggest possible breakdown questions when Miranda suddenly muttered, her gaze levelled away from them as she was thinking.

“Willy. One of his thoughts; he should have made Willy stay. There was a Willy at Hogwarts. Rather, William. Shufflebottom. He was as thick as a troll with a head injury.” Ignan sharply looked up to Gerda, their house elf, one hand extending towards her without realising in his wish to ask her directly.
“That awful house the other end of the village you got eggs from once when we moved here."
”Shufflebottom!” Gerda squeaked and clapped her hands over her ears in horror. ”Master, Mistress, Gerda meant no harm-“ The house elf curled in on itself, upset she could have done something wrong to hurt her mistress when ordinarily she could put no step wrong in their service.
“Quiet, Gerda. Elf, there is nothing you have done wrong -“ Ignan hated it when house elves needlessly attempted to discipline themselves, and quickly sought an order, “- just pour your Mistress another drink.” He let his arm fall back to his side and looked between the two witches.

“There’s a house the other end of the village that belongs to a family by that name. They keep creatures. Gerda what was the Mistress of the house called?” He watched his obedient house-elf screw up her face as she poured Miranda something that obviously was no longer tea.
”Gladys-May, Master. Her children tried to play with me Master. Gerda is not accustomed to children, Mistress.” The elf offered the glass to Miranda.

Miranda tried not to show how unnerved she was by the discussion of Shufflebottom’s house at the other end of the village but unfortunately her emotions were heightened. Hands still shook as she took a drag of her cigarette, closing her eyes and trying to remain calm. Thoughts flooded her mind of the moronic boy that had eagerly tailed a charismatic Musgrave all those years ago. So close to where she’d previously relaxed and called home. There was no way the Old School would once again be a comfortable place for Miranda to sleep alone.

“Gladys-May, Master.” Gerda told Mira’s husband and the witch’s hand froze in mid air as she’d been about to tap the ashes from her cigarette into the glass tray.

“Shit. Of course…” She’d only seen Gladys-May a short time ago at St Mungo’s with a sickly child. Her cousin had been eager to be dealt with by Miranda, panicking over affording potions that were sent home with her. Miranda had put it to the side, never having liked her cousin, the entire Carter family not having bothered with her since her marriage to a Shufflbottom. The embarrassment!

Was it too embarrassing now to mention to the aurors?

“Gladys-May is my cousin…unfortunately.” Her words were quiet, ones she didn’t really want her husband to hear. Related to the wife of a poor farmhand living in an ‘awful house’. “Family embarrassment.” She explained, glancing at Ignan. “It could be why Musgrave came here.” Fingers grasped the tumbler Gerda had placed in front of her and Miranda took a sip, struggling with her lack of control in the present situation. She was horrendously out of her comfort zone.

“I’ve told you all that I can now.” Dark eyes glared at the auror pointedly.

Adrianna's quill scratches were light on the parchment and gave away nothing of her piqued interest and perked ears. Not to say that an Auror with new information would not be wary, but it was a lead nonetheless and that was something to look forward to.

She would have asked further, but Elliot's tone suggested a flat finality to it. The auror was thankful anyway - she felt rusty with asking such pressing questions, instead of jotting down a description of escaped swans from a farmer with an unfortunate name. "We'll look into it," she said curtly, flipping the notebook closed in a significant sweep of her fingers, as if asserting that she'd duly received the hint. "Thank you for your help, we'll investigate the situation and hopefully it'll lead us somewhere closer to apprehending Musgrave. If possible I can have a detail sent around to patrol for a while as soon as possible, but I - we - can make no promises except to shut him down."

The auror would have said more, but she was of the opinion that she - and her colleagues - had rather overstayed their welcome and duration here. After a cursory farewell she went to collect her colleagues from the living room, hopefully with more evidence that they could use to track Musgrave down, and departed Godric's Hollow with the new lead safely tucked away in her coat pocket.