Afternoon, Interview Room

Minister Glass knew every obliviator who worked for the third floor, as he had overseen them as their Department Head until the spring. Amongst the team were many fine wands. There was his predecessor’s favourite obliviator, Zamperia, Roth, the Order of Merlin winner, job juggler Bagman and pretty and a peach Woolfolk. Then there was Hartsell who took on the trainees… they were also a consideration.

Each of them were under oath to not speak of anything they removed from the memories of those they obliviated, but the Minister simply could not risk one of their heads ever containing these memories. The request would never be suitable for a trainee, due to the complexity and the high profile of the subject, so a senior obliviator would be a natural choice.

Hopwood owed him a favour, outstanding for eleven years. As Head Obliviator, she would appear a natural choice through seniority, but she would be perfect to keep her mouth shut - not that she would have anything to remember. That was the horrible sensation obliviation brought - the blank silence where memories should be, but nothing could be perceived. Every obliviator knew it - they were subjected to it early on in training to make them aware of what they were doing. It was a sobering sensation to say the least.

“It’ll all be over soon.” Edwin had assured Solomon Carstairs outside the interview room. The Head of Magical Law Enforcement had returned a careful nod.[1] Nothing had quite been straightforward all summer with his unexpected Level 2 tenant. While the Minister appeared calm, verging on happy, Obliviator Hopwood had gripped her wand grimly, staring at the interview door before them in deep thought.

“Shall we?” The Minister asked Morwenna, reaching for the door.

1.

From Nuri

Level Two seemed cheerier today. People often scowled at him, if they acknowledged him at all. Through the door of the interview room, the office had been reduced to a dull rumble of muffled voices, bumps, bangs and squawks. There was an energy out there amongst the red robes that Lawrence missed. The hubbub kept away the distant mumbling only he could hear from the dementors.[1]

Across the table, Fenny was whistling merrily as he continued reading Twilight. He still had some of George’s curly dog hair on his uniform. Without anything else to look at in the room, Lawrence had studied the hitwizard’s shiny bald head, stubble, beard and lingering dog hair. He didn’t know proper occlumency, though he knew enough of the basic theory, so his attempts to shut memories away behind doors since the covert copying earlier that day[2] could well amount to nothing. But in the circumstances, it was something. Nothing made him feel helpless, and he had to be on his guard permanently now.

They were cheerier because they would be rid of him. Only explanation. Their mirth grated on his mood.

The door opened, and the cacophony of Level 2 beyond filtered through loudly for a brief moment. Fenny was on his feet in an instant, the book vanishing into an expandable pocket in his uniform, wand returning to hand. Lawrence couldn’t stand to address the arriving party, as he had been bound to the chair, and the chair to the floor. He recognised both of the visitors, but delivered a long stare in return.

“Minister, sir.” Fendrel efficiently addressed the leader of their magical government, standing to attention. “Madam Hopwood.”

She’d not got married then? Lawrence thought in passing as he glanced over the much older face of the obliviator he remembered from his auror days. She acknowledged Stump with a polite nod, and gave Lawrence an uncomfortable glance. Why was she not smiling like the aurors? His attention moved to the shark behind, Edwin’s round face looked as tired as Lawrence remembered from the war, only much older now, and he wore that same self-satisfied smirk.

1.	4th August, 2011 On Hand
2.	In Safe Hands

“Mr Stump,” Edwin greeted, and extended his hand, making out he was pleased to meet the wizard. Stump was neither here nor there, but he had kept order and provided some stability for Level Two in the duration. He would be useful in heading up a little team at St Mungo’s to ensure there was no chance of escape while Miranda and Yavin conducted their research.[1] “Guard the door please. Outside.” The bald hitwizard’s proud expression diminished with the final word, and his handshake weakened.

He turned to Morwenna, drawing the Hitwizard’s vacated chair backwards, and offered her the space the other side of the table. He drew his wand behind her and cast charms wordlessly. The noise from the rest of Level 2 faded away, enveloping the three of them in a bubble of secrecy and disillusionment. Stump would make sure nobody interrupted them.

It was only then that Glass properly looked at the figure bound in the chair. Lawrence’s stare screamed his desire to murder Edwin. The hazel eyes were the same ones that had bore out of the front page of the newspaper more than once, but he looked less harrowed now. One hundred and thirty nine days of Ministry hospitality had built up the emaciated version of Musgrave who had surrendered in the atrium.[2] He had made a calculated move, and to all intents, it looked like it had paid off.

Edwin hated him for it.

“Lawrence Musgrave. It has been a while hasn’t it?” His thick lips turned into a smile that lacked warmth. He reached out gently to the obliviator stood before the table. “You do remember Morwenna, don’t you? She’s Head Obliviator these days, done marvellously. Well, we both have.”

1.	22nd August, 2011 In Good Hands
2.	6th April, 2011 Shadow is Round the Eaves

“Yes sir.” Fendrel Stump shot Lawrence a look that read no funny business, but there was an underlying distrust that the prisoner read as not directed at him. Lawrence suppressed the rising fear creeping up is throat. He wanted to yell out to Fenny, tell him to stay. Tell him to knock seven bells out of the Minister because he was about to commit a crime. But it would be the ranting of a madman if he tried.

“How lovely for you both.” Lawrence replied through gritted teeth. His remaining hand balled into a fist on the arm of the chair, and he tried to steady his breathing. Obliviation under stress was risky, and increased the chance that something would go wrong. He had to preserve as many memories as he could and fight the process. He’d tried so hard over the past weeks to keep an even keel, through dementors, questioning, dates for Azkaban and deepening depression, and seeing Edwin stood here had pulled the rug out from under his feet. He had to hold it together. Had to.


No good. He wanted to curse Edwin into next month. Smug git. He didn’t deserve to be Minister. He did not deserve the nation’s trust and goodwill (as far as one could extend to any politician). Edwin Glass was a fraud.

He desperately appealed to Morwenna, whose expression remained grim and grey throughout the introduction. She didn’t want to be here any more than Lawrence did. She’d fled when the Death Eaters had taken over, and been one of the good guys. Why on earth was she here helping Edwin?

“You know what he wants you to obliviate, do you? Has he told you?” Lawrence asked, wanting to give her a good shake, “He wants you to remove memories about what he asked me to do to the dementors.”[1]

1.	2nd January, 2011 Through Gray Mist Creeping

Edwin laughed, amused at Lawrence’s futile efforts to appeal to Morwenna. He was telling the absolute truth, of course, but it wouldn’t help him. His former Hufflepuff classmate turned to look at Edwin with sickening suspicion. Of course she’d be suspicious. This was the repayment of debt she’d owed for eleven years. Edwin had helped her salvage her career after a terrible mistake, and she would now do the same, repaying with interest.

“I did tell you he’s absolutely addled,” Edwin shrugged, smoothly continuing, despite Lawrence's noisy protests. “It’s why Head Healer Storm offered to take him off our hands. It is for the best. We have a duty of care.” Morwenna’s lips wobbled in the way he remembered from their time together. She didn’t believe him, and she was entirely right too.

“You’ll both be fine,” the Minister assured them with a malicious glint in his eyes and a broad smile that was anything but reassuring.



End