Evangeline Kuester had spent the morning holed up in her claustrophobic little office with the door characteristically open. For years after her incarceration, Eva had grown anxious in rooms with closed doors. With the passing of time, she’d found the anxiety settle, but still made an effort to keep her exit free and unblocked. It was, therefore, an extremely rare sight for her office door to not be open when she wasn’t in it. Most thought it meant what most open doors meant, she was welcoming any visitor and that she herself was being open. No one really thought to consider her true motivation and she certainly didn’t encourage it.

This morning, however, Eva had been in deep concentration and had grown frustrated with the many questions and pop-ins from colleagues. So instead of smiling and graciously waving at the chair shoved in the corner, she’d been quite unwelcoming in manner. Unfortunately, in the early afternoon, one dared to ignore the clear hint at not wanting to be disturbed and the doorframe was knocked on loudly.

From her desk, Eva looked up expectantly. Had they come to offer a fresh fruit tea or hot chocolate? A quick glance confirmed empty hands and caused her to raise eyebrows.

“The minister is expecting your presence, Ms Kuester.” The new staff member blurted out, eager to pass on his message and escape.

With mild irritation, Eva nodded. “Whatever he wills,” her mutter was under her breath, barely audible as she slipped her shoes back on and rose from her desk, grabbing a quill and note parchment. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good news to be summoned immediately after a meet with the Muggle Prime Minister.

It only took couple of minutes before Eva was stood in the doorway to Glass’ office offering her boss a polite smile.
“I trust you had a productive meeting, Sir?”

Minister Glass was stood by the enchanted windows of his office, regarding the ‘weather’.

“Prime Minister,” Glass had greeted, half an hour ago, ducking out from beneath the marble mantelpiece onto the rather fine Axminster, brushing ash from the sleeves of his suit robes. She had taken his hand to shake in greeting, though her face with its sharp nose and disapproving, thin-lipped mouth under suspicious eyes was entirely devoid of warmth. When they had first met, a week after Edwin had taken office, he couldn’t help but think she’d been more fond of Zephyr, if one could measure warmth in below freezing temperatures. Glass was fully aware his appearance, or his predecessors was only due to requirement. At least his predecessor had saved him the trouble of explaining their world.

Unusually for this occasion, the Muggle across the desk in 10 Downing Street had addressed the froglike little man in the long silver wig in the portrait that could not be removed. She had requested the meeting with him. As her Minister for Magical people, Edwin considered himself part of the Cabinet, after all, even if he operated alone.

Edwin eyed the decanter to one side of his office and then the tea tray, and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, in silent contemplation. Kuester saved him the decision.

“Oh yes,” Edwin agreed, “the confectionary market is at an all-time high, since a regular amount of chocolate has been endorsed by the National Health Service.” He slipped his hand from his pocket and rubbed his nose. “Would you close the door?”

He glanced back to the windows and then drew away towards his desk with slow strides.
“The Prime Minister is unconvinced.” He explained, “Last we met, as you know I explained at length about dementors. Well, she has had some time to think, and the Health Secretary, awful man with an unfortunate surname from how she described, is fighting off accusations of a mental health crisis in Britain. More people are going to their doctor - healer, with the symptoms of dementor exposure. Considering Muggle following of scientific theory, telling them to go home, have a sweet cup of tea and a bar of chocolate is, according to the Prime Minister, making the government a laughing stock.”

He sighed, “she quoted statistics,” he gestured to the rather Muggle-looking computer-printed paperwork on the desk, “deaths… said if we had our man in custody - by whom she means Musgrave - why the devil weren’t we doing something about the dementors.”

From a simple mention of chocolate, Eva lost her polite smile, frowning instead as she followed the Minister’s orders to close the door. The quiet click confirmed they were now completely alone in the soundproofed office, the words spoken to remain between the two souls in the room. At least the office was large enough to not feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable unlike her own which had only been turned into a workspace when Zephyr had created her job less than a year previous. Eva had always presumed it had been a storage cupboard or something akin before.

Now, the office that Edwin Glass strode across was lush, ornately decorated and certainly denoted the position of its tenant in the ministry’s hierarchy. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how lovely a room was when the topic of conversation became as dark as the situation they currently faced with dementors. With her superior’s explanation, Eva moved further into the office and grasped the paper he’d indicated on his desk. She lifted it to glance over, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Not all of these are dementor caused deaths, surely.” Evangeline muttered as bright blue eyes scanned over various numbers and explanations printed in the neat script she’d not seen in a couple of years, gaze zeroing in on a specific symptom listed with cases documented. “Do you know much of muggle illnesses, Minister? Mental Health, as they call it? They like ah… muggles value a coverall for problems. People have suffered with similar symptoms to dementor exposure for many years, Sir. They even have a name for it.” She didn’t need to explicitly state where her thoughts were going beyond a quick, “These numbers seem high, don’t they?” Then she placed the paper back on his desk, still holding her own parchment and quill as she stood.

“Not all of these are dementor caused deaths, surely.”
“No, of course not.” Edwin muttered, as sceptical.

“Do you know much of muggle illnesses, Minister?” Edwin did not profess to be a doctor or any specialist in it, but he had more idea than the average wizard might.

“I know of, yes, though I am no expert,” he confirmed in a reasonable tone, “My mother has always kept me abreast of the culture, as much as I have in ours. Some of their newspapers call it an epidemic.” He shrugged off his jacket and let it hang itself up as he tugged his shirt sleeves back down to his wrists. “The numbers are increasing though. Even if they were predisposed, pre-diagnosed, the dementors don’t help the symptoms, they exacerbate them.”

He rested his hands on his hips and pressed his lips into a flat line as he thought.
“The Prime Minister asked me why we’d not sent them back to Azkaban,” he added, though there wasn’t any glee in his tone, more resentment. “I may have mentioned their historical role there to her last time,” he attempted to placate Kuester, “she implied it was hardly fair to subject her population to something it couldn’t fight while we protected ours who could.”

Glass had been asked why he hadn’t sent the Dementors back to Azkaban, something that Eva shouldn’t have been surprised about. Despite knowing that this would undoubtedly be brought up again, it made the Lawyer feel uncomfortable and her gaze dropped down to the parchment in her arms rather than meeting her boss’ gaze. The last time they’d discussed this, he’d not been shy in ensuring she knew his position and they’d certainly butted heads. Eva had been quite convinced that her position on Level 1 wouldn’t have much more of a shelf life. But it had been shelved and ignored while he waited for discussions with Head of Department. Now? She needed to be careful exactly what she said.

“You were elected to protect the wizarding population, Minister.” The witch pointed out bluntly, deciding that she needed to push her own feelings back and do her job well instead. “Just as her priority lies with her muggle society, yours lies with witches and wizards. There are many who would question your motives should you make a decision based on pressure from the muggle Prime Minister, Sir.”

With the assumption that this wouldn’t be a short meeting, Eva placed her parchment on the desk and folded her arms, casting her gaze to the magical window.

“What I am saying is…” She took a pause, choosing her words carefully as she stepped away and moved towards the bookshelf. “If you were to make such a decision, it needs to be for the right reasons. Placating the Prime Minister and putting your own citizens at risk by doing so would, doubtlessly, end in an outcry for your removal from office.”

“Placating the Prime Minister…” Edwin gave Kuester a sharp look but let her finish. He was very much mulling things over in his head.

“It’s a fair question from her, though.” Edwin replied, “I’m not rushing to placate her, as you put it. She’s very much between a rock and a hard place. What’s she going to do? Tell her citizens we exist and look like a crazed idiot, have Muggle scientists try to detect Muggles - equally laughable. No, she’s powerless. Powerless against me.” He sank down into the comfortable chair at his desk, brow furrowing.

“Longer this goes on for though, the more powerless I am perceived by our people, and her. I am however, intrigued she thought the possibility was workable.” He drummed his round fingers on the arm of his chair, thoughts still whirring beneath his thinning hair. “It is better to have her on side. The Prophet’s already published the efforts with chocolate, I will certainly have someone write up another release to mention how it is benefitting both health and economy. Could always pursue that idea of manipulating the weather short-term, give the Muggles some sun and that would cheer them all up, wouldn’t it?” He glanced up to Eva. “Thinking aloud,” he waved a hand as if to dismiss the ideas.

“Unless…” he looked at her intently, but narrowed his eyes and appeared to think better of whatever he was about to say.

“It’s a fair question from her, though.” The Minister pointed out and Eva gave a shrug of agreement. That, she certainly didn’t deny. But it was her job to look at the angles and how it might reflect on him and, more importantly, the ministry. She had to make sure things were viable, legally especially. One certainly couldn’t warrant such a thing for a mere attempt to pacify a muggle political leader.

During his thought processes, the witch stood near the large bookshelf, running over thoughts in her own mind. That was until the mention of the weather and her expression did nothing to hide her opinion that it was a ridiculous suggestion. She tried to temper her expression, glancing once more at the window, but it was clear that she certainly didn’t agree with the idea of sunny weather making any difference to a country of grumpy British muggles scared and depressed.

“Unless…” He looked unsure, yet his gaze was penetrating. Eva kept her arms crossed as she glanced at him.

“Yes, Sir?”

She wasn’t exactly coming up with her own ideas, but was ready to dismiss any that passed him. His pause caught her attention though.

“Well,” Edwin said, the word drawn out as he considered how to phrase it, "he’s hardly doing anything useful down there right now.” He shrugged, and rubbed his chin between thumb and forefinger, “and if he gets finished off in the process it’ll hardly be a loss.”

It was a flippant comment, given that Level 2 were heavily engaged in extensive interviews and evidence gathering from their long-term resident. The last time Eva and Edwin had discussed him in any real terms it had been over the arrival of a package containing a model telephone box. The new Minister had been spooked by the arrival, thinking all manner of possibilities, such as the Ministry imploding entirely like the Leaky Cauldron.

At the time, Edwin had mentioned to Eva then that Lawrence had once been his friend, and for those who had worked in government for just as long would probably remember. There was no sign of that old friendship now as Edwin showed less regard for life than he had the Azkaban community before. It might sort a very real problem.

“If we put him in Azkaban, he’s bait, or a threat.” Edwin reasoned, “Who knows what he’s plotting down there.” He shrugged, “and who’s visiting.”

It wasn’t at all necessary for he to be specified. There was only one he in the ministry that Glass would take interest in when it came to Dementors. It was the he that Eva had paid an unofficial visit to over 2 months prior. It was he who was probably the only man Eva would have wished dead in the past. But if she was understanding what Edwin Glass was alluding to, so did he. A well-practiced schooled expression remained on Eva’s features as she listened, not entirely comfortable with what was being said. No wonder he’d ordered the door to be shut behind her.

Did Glass really plan on disregarding human life and throwing his former friend to the dementors? Eva knew what Musgrave had done and the wizard had destroyed her life all of those years ago, but to use him as bait? It surprised her. Hadn’t Musgrave talked of wanting to help, of reasons for why he’d handed himself in?

“Who’s visiting him is on a record that you can request, Sir.” The lawyer calmly stated, very little was inaccessible for the Minister for Magic. With a frown and a sigh, Evangeline finally moved to sit down opposite him and she pushed the glasses she’d been wearing up onto her head, a few blonde waves of hair being pushed back from her face. “Has anyone approached Musgrave about volunteering to help? Or is it just presumed that force will be needed?” Her hands sat in her lap, fingers intertwining. “He handed himself in for a reason and from my experience, it only happens for one of two reasons.”

“Who’s visiting him is on a record that you can request, Sir.”

Good, so she did know. So whatever she’d gone to see Musgrave about weeks back was fine for him to query if he’d been bothered at the time. For all he knew she could have just been to gawp at him like a gorilla in a zoo.

“The moment we approach him to volunteer, he’ll want a deal,” the Minister pointed out. The former auror had wanted one of Level Nine’s nets and his irritating sidekick had made jokes about vacuum cleaners. “Once Pratt and his team have finally extracted everything of worth from his head, we face a long and arduous Wizengamot trial. Can’t ship him out to the North Sea in the meantime, because where he goes, dementors tend to follow. We had them here for weeks in April when he turned up.” Edwin gestured upwards with a hand.

“Besides,” the Minister added in a curious manner, “you believe he will help?”

It had taken a while for Evangeline to get her head around the fact that Lawrence Musgrave, unlike her, would receive a Wizengamot trial, he would be treated fairly by a ministry he had once betrayed. When he’d handed himself in, she’d thought over how it may have been better for him to have died a painful death, to have suffered more. For those thoughts, Eva had felt guilty. Musgrave had devastated her life, taking the very foundations of what she’d always known and believed from beneath her feet, but, as he’d pointed out, she was doing okay now. She certainly wasn’t doing as well as she would have been without ten years of keeping herself in France surrounded by muggles and too scared to return; but she was doing far better than him.

Yet he was still protected. Within the confines of the ministry the dementors couldn’t reach him and with Glass’ acknowledgement that sending him to Azkaban throughout the trial would be problematic, Musgrave would continue to live in far more comfort in his Level 2 cell.

The question took the witch by mild surprise as she looked across the desk at her boss. The whole topic felt too personal to truly be objective and the Minister knew this. The sensible thing to do would have been to tell him know what her position was, to be honest about her connection to Musgrave. It wasn’t, however, information she wanted to share with a boss she still wasn’t sure she trusted.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Sir,” She dismissed it quickly. “Lawrence Musgrave was a war criminal, and now he has control of probably the scariest beings in existence. I’d be trying to appeal to the side of him that you were once friends with,” her eyebrows rose, knowing she was possibly overstepping the line again, “to the man who was once a very good auror.”

Evangeline was working hard to side-step as best she could. The subject matter was difficult, he granted, but this was a new sidling technique. It was an opinion held back when others were freely distributed. Suggestions that he’d be asked to resign, that he’d be unpopular came easily to Kuester most of the time, but on Britain’s most wanted wizard after the late Ira Almasy…? Curiously mute.

Instead, she played the tact that he’d be best to befriend Lawrence again. She wanted nothing to do with it, in that sense.

“Well, Kuester, I disagree.” Edwin replied, taking care to keep his tone reasonable and calm. “I ask your advice and your views on matters and you’re generally eager to voice them in the majority of cases.”

The Minister laced his fingers together and rested his hands in his lap, studying the blonde sat opposite. Perhaps she was hoping he hadn’t found out, or had forgotten. He blinked, but the intensity of his stare was reminiscent of how he’d prey on aurors when they blew the Statute of Secrecy when he was Head of Three.

“You’ve seen him more recently than I have, after all. What was your measure of him? ... Did you have a nice chat?”

The manner in which Glass pointed out that she’d seen Musgrave made it feel like more of an accusation than a statement. His question was pointed, and as Eva felt, biting. His tone alone was enough to set her on edge but accompanied with the stare, she suddenly felt quite awkward, as if she’d done something unacceptable and she was about to get a telling off from a disapproving father. It was with gritted teeth that she met his gaze, uncomfortable with the direction he’d taken the discussion.

He’d evidently seen the visitors log or spoken to someone on Level 2 for him to gleam the information. But the way he looked at her, it was as if she’d withheld a dirty secret and he wanted to know about it. There was no secret in that she’d been to Musgrave’s cell, it had been approved by Solomon and Harper, she’d passed hitwizards on her way in, even handed over her wand and been checked. Glass had certainly waited to pick his moment to mention it.

“It would be unprofessional of me to share my opinion about Musgrave, Sir,” Her tone was cool, slipping into the professional demeanour of an experienced lawyer; it was a façade to hide behind in order to protect herself and her emotions. “On this matter, I am not able to maintain any objectivity.” With some thought, and a deliberation she’d been deep in for weeks, Eva took a breath before glancing back at her boss. “As such, Sir, I feel it would be prudent to politely request I be removed from duties regarding this case and the dementors.” She had tried during their last discussion, refused a need to pull back, but it was too personal and too close to subjects she’d spent a decade trying to avoid. There was absolutely no chance of her being able to withhold bias.

“I will gladly hand over any research I’ve partaken in on the subject to whomever you chose.” With that comment, she began to rise from her chair, hoping for a quick dismissal.

He had given her opportunity to come clean, and now he asked her directly. As much as the two of them had been getting on better of late, Edwin needed to be able to trust Kuester - at least as far as he could throw her. Cornered, she resorted to her professional tactics in the courtroom, which was only to be expected.

“… I am not able to maintain my objectivity… politely request I be removed from duties...”

This was not entirely out of the blue, given Edwin had offered to reassign Kuester[1] back in April. She’d declined at the time, but that was before he’d pressed about her ties with Musgrave.

“He arrested you, didn’t he.”

Edwin’s reply was rhetorical. He’d taken the time to read Kuester’s file in the intermediate weeks after discovering her visit. He’d been avoiding sating his curiosity by doing so until her visit had made him suspicious and cautious. His gaze followed Kuester, but Edwin blinked, lessening his intense stare with a little empathy. He did not remember those days fondly either, and had been incredibly fortunate to not suffer an even partly comparable fate.

The Minister lowered his gaze to his desktop and swallowed, deciding there was no benefit at all to labouring the point. This was to all extents just an overdue decision. “Alright, I accept your request, Eva, but I am sorry to lose you from this.” He gave a little sigh, “do send Holmes in.”

1.	11th April I walk the line

“He arrested you, didn’t he.” Glass didn’t hold back the punch, failing to have picked up on his assistant’s avoidance of the subject. Or perhaps he understood but wanted to continue prodding. Now at her full height, Eva froze, blue eyes fixed on his unwavering gaze. He was watching her for a reaction, for a sign that it might spark something more than a calm professionalism. But she wasn’t prepared to expose herself with such a reaction, it wasn’t necessary. It would only prove her to be some emotional wreck that couldn’t do her job without taking everything to heart.

A response wasn’t needed but, with her arms now crossed defensively over her chest, Eva frowned across at her boss. “So, you can see why I can’t advise you on this, Sir.”

As the Minister’s gaze softened, Eva felt some of her stiffness abate with his accepting her request. Glancing down at the papers strewn across the desk, Eva sighed. “Thank you, Sir. Just so that you know, my visit was approved by Solomon himself; and Musgrave’s lawyer. It’s nothing I have intended to hide but it is my own business which I do not expect to be shared with anyone outside of this room.” Her tone wasn’t stern, but it betrayed an urgency she felt to keep it private. Lips were too loose on Level 1 and tongues wagged too eagerly. Evangeline was an exceptionally private person who would normally manage to stay out of the chosen topics of gossip. Maurice Holmes, however, had never taken much of a liking to the witch that he thought competed with him for the Minister’s attention. He was a member of the Minister’s staff that she would never trust.

“What I meant to say, Sir, is that I would appreciate a suitably mundane reason being given for my withdrawal from this work.”