Friday, 4^th of November 2011 @ 1pm
Figaro Sellaphix's flat
Barking, muggle London
Rainy


A knock at the door, barely heard over some very loud Hawkshead Attacking Formation. Figaro took his time getting up from his marginally dry seat on the small balcony. He set down his beer and stopped at the kitchen counter to root through a drawer of cash he kept by the door. A miracle had occurred and he was on day two of three days off work, and he intended to spend every hour of it doing absolutely fuckall. So it was pyjama bottoms, long lie-ins, loud music, and junk food.

"Hang on," he shouted over the music, which he didn't intend to shut off. He padded to the door and scratched at his bare ribs before unlatching the chain and opening the door.

It was not Woo from Merlin's Pizza. It was someone positively less welcome and totally absent his lunch. Honestly, it was so unexpected to see her (anyone?) here that he didn't right away know how to react. Fig looked at her with furrowed brow, her standing there in her black uniform. He glanced down the hall and looked back at her.

"What?"

Like, what did you say? He was supposed to be eating pizza right now, and now he was probably going to have to put on a shirt. Sure, Halloween had gone fine enough - he'd been on his best behavior, but there weren't many pleasantries to spare between them. Fig let his arm holding the cash drop to his side and he looked back at the complete bin the flat was. There were books and papers and dishes and clothing everywhere. When he looked back at her, he made no move to ask her in.

Raine wasn't the kind of witch who held grudges. Many of her friends at Hogwarts had been hot-headed Gryffindors or slippery Slytherins, and you learned to let go of the small things when you were surrounded by people like that. You saved grudges for big things, like maniacal relatives or purist madmen who had killed your twin sister. Those kind of things.

Even so, she wasn't looking forward to interviewing Fig about this robbery. Of course she'd leapt at the chance to help Fauna with a case - a real case!! - because anything was better than more paperwork. But Fig was a selfish arse and she privately thought he might have done it.

The dumbfounded look he gave her when he opened the door did mitigate her suspicions. Here she was in full uniform, her curls pinned back and her game face on! Wasn't it obvious? Perhaps he wasn't smart enough to be responsible.

            "What?"

"Official business," Raine rolled her eyes at him and folded her arms.  "I have some questions to ask about a recent robbery. Do you want to do this inside or would you prefer I drag you down to level two in your loungewear?"

He could barely hear her, but he picked up enough to let her in. Figaro went to the record player and shut off the music, and the flat rang with quiet before giving way to the gentle sounds of the city outside.  On his way to the balcony he picked a shirt up off the floor (Falmouth Falcons jersey) and pulled it on. He dragged in the plastic lawn chair, wiped it off with a different piece of laundry, and set it down by the fire place across from his bed.

Figaro kind of waved at the chair, indicating it was for guests. He crossed his arms and scratched the back of his neck, uncharacteristically quiet in these last few minutes of cursory hospitality. Wasn't sure what he wanted to say to Raine who never did apologize for hexing him. That and of the many things Zelda Sellaphix had taught her sons (and what Figaro had been reminded of all too well lately) was not to cooperate with Aurors. It was a push and pull with Fig. Some of his closest friends were in the Corps. And some of his only fathers were in prison. His mother, if she knew, would probably be smacking him for not calling Raine on her bluff to drag him to the Ministry.

"Don't let them in, don't answer questions, don't do anything without a lawyer. Ever."

But here he was, doing the exact opposite and not sure why.

"I don't know what I can tell you, Raine. I don't know anything about any robbery. Unless you mean Bevans and them?"

He didn't have any details, but he heard Nick, Virgil, and Ariadne got broken into. But wasn't that forever ago? And what would Figaro know about it.

It was a relief on her ears when he finally turned turned off the music. Raine couldn't understand why Figaro still listened to music like that, the kind of music they'd rally around in fifth year. She wondered if he had ever moved on from that time of their lives or if he was just nostalgic for a simpler era - when all their dramas played out in Hogwarts' much smaller arena.

"Not Bevans," the witch replied as she gingerly took a seat, and drew out her notepad and quill. This wasn't a big flat. Was it really so hard for him to keep it in in order?? "There was a more recent robbery. The less you know, the better."

She wasn't about to explain what had happened, just in case. Raine figured it would be easier to catch him out if he did know something and accidentally let it slip. If Fig was involved in this, he wasn't composed enough to get away with it. Reaching for her wand, she charmed her writing instruments - the inked quill jumped to life and began jotting down their words.

"For the record, anything you say in response to my questions can and will be used in the investigation of this crime. You can choose not to answer... although that may or may not be incriminating in itself," she shrugged. "So. Where were you yesterday, the third of November, between the hours of one and two in the morning?"

'The less you know the better'? Honestly. Figaro scoffed and leaned against the counter. Was she actually serious?

He watched as Raine sat down and she was clearly not impressed with the venue. Then she continued on, set up a quill to record them, and asked him about his whereabouts. Incredulous, he scoffed again.

"Are you joking? Really. Did you really just advise me of my rights? Come on."

Figaro shrugged pointedly at her. Raine had always been more put-together than the rest of them, more driven more intense. But this was stupid. Showing up here as if she was important? If she'd wanted to make amends (and he knew she didn't), this clearly wasn't how to do it. The other scenario was more likely, that Raine was here to be a pain in his ass because she could.

"What are you doing? You're not a real Auror."

He tilted his head to the side and winced gently.

She was following the book. That is, the official Auror's Handbook, but the handbook didn't say anything about people scoffing upon being reminded of their rights. Raine had observed her seniors questioning witnesses who would roll their eyes or take on a weary attitude. Fig was acting like he was above it.

            "What are you doing? You're not a real Auror."

If she flexed the grip on her wand, it was only a twitch. So that was the problem. He didn't want to take this seriously because they used to be classmates and he thought she was putting on airs. Raine glanced at her notebook; they were still being recorded.

"That's... correct. I am an auror-in-training," she replied through gritted teeth, narrowing her eyes at the former Hufflepuff, "and I've been instructed to question you for our investigation. I'm doing my job."

A part of her wondered if it was this tricky for the older aurors when they had to question their old school friends who turned out to be criminals and suspects. Carstairs always told them to keep it impersonal but how could you not get personal?

"You're not exactly Lawrence Musgrave, you know." Raine remarked as she sat a little straighter in the chair. "Did you want a fully trained auror knocking at the door? I can tell them you didn't want to speak to me because I hexed your cock off."

Merlin help the trainee who had to read these notes.

Figaro couldn't help but feel satisfied when he saw signs he was getting under Raine's skin. The evidence was stacking that there was something about Raine Almasy that muted the better of Fig's survival instincts, and even a steady Fauna Blake upon his shoulder might not yet stand him down from that high. He caught her glance at the quill, catching their every word, and titled his head another half degree.

Instructed to question him? Garbage. No one could possibly think he had anything to do with any robbery.

"They only need an excuse. Don't give them one," he remembered his mum saying. 

Figaro almost laughed when Auror-in-Training Raine Almasy threatened to send in a grown-up, but he didn't get to finish the thought. At mention of their now months'-past incident, Figaro involuntarily flinched and then he began shouting.

"I bloody knew you weren't sorry! Do you know how much shit I've taken because of what --"


Figaro leapt away from the door, nearly colliding with a small table. His balance was off because he didn't want to put his hands down. He shot Raine a look of terrific awe - how the hell did she summon a proper Auror without even moving her wand?

"Merlin's Pizza!"

Figaro almost melted with relief, but he mood didn't improve.  "Shut up!" he snapped at Raine. 

He stormed to the door and nearly threw the coins at poor, innocent Woo. When the transaction was completed and the door closed, the pizza box was abandoned, unopened on the counter. Fig had lost his appetite.

Even though the one who knocked had not been Justice Herself summoned by the red-haired apprentice sitting in his plastic lawn chair, a moment of living in that particular reality inspired Figaro to a sliver of respect for the situation.

"Just sh-" he held up a hand, "What am I even supposed to have stolen? I've never stolen anything in my life."

Inaccurate.

"Shit, look, don't write that down. Everyone has stolen something - I was a kid, it was ages ago. Nothing, just some shite down the corner shop. This is stupid. My cock is fine for the record, by the way. Perfectly functional. Ask Virgil - don't ask Virgil. Not what I meant. Nothing happened. He just asked - Don't write that down, either. Don't - alright. Well, shit."

At some point, he just had to stop talking. He righted the table and sat down on the bed. All he needed was his name all over Level Two again.

"Shut up!"

Why was he telling her to shut up?? She had been just as surprised by the knocking, partly because Raine didn't think Figaro had any friends who dropped by in the middle of the day. And she was right. It was just pizza. That was a bit sad, ordering a pizza lunch for one. She felt grateful to have a flatmate, especially one who was good company.

After he had paid for his sad lunch, Fig proceeded to dig his own grave. Raine watched as the quill furiously jotted down every one of his urgings not to be recorded. Was he really that stupid?

Also, ask Virgil, why ask Virgil?? Were he and Virgil fu-- no, no she was not going to chase that down the rabbit hole of post-Hogwarts gossip.

"Right, so, your turn to shut up," she finally cut in as an act of mercy. "Nobody said you were a suspect, you're just being questioned as a person of interest. Some of the papers stolen from Pilpher and Stride yesterday were relevant to Sellaphix Apothecary."

Somewhere in that empty brain of his, Fig probably thought he was being unfairly bullied by level two. Merlin forbid they got some real work done when the reporters weren't looking! She flicked her wand. The quill halted, its charm on pause.

"By the way, of course I'm not bloody sorry for hexing you." Raine narrowed her gaze at him with the expression of a witch who didn't have time to fumble around for words. "You stormed on to level two, took advantage of Fauna, and tried to talk a story out of Carstairs. Do you honestly think I'd be okay with someone who used their friends like that?"

Or, for that matter, someone who brought up her surname like it was a curse.

Raine's clarification of the purpose of her visit and that he wasn't a suspect didn't alleviate Figaro's panic for even a second, and mention that Apothecary documents were in the mix? No. No no no no. If they were talking to him, where they talking to his mom? There was no way that would go well for anyone. They had just reopened this shop and his mother was only recently not dying. No no no no no.

He rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He'd already blown it. He might have decided to be less defensive (in defiance of his mum's rules) just to get Raine to leave, but she paused the quill and went off.

"Bullshit! That's not why you did it. You really think Fauna's that stupid? It was a bloody misunderstanding and you know it. Don't try and pretend you were going to hex me until I brought up your sodding aunt."

He probably shouldn't have challenged her. Raine had gone violently insane since school. His eyes flitted to his wand which he'd left on the mantle behind the Auror-in-Training. His eyes flitted to hers, in her hand. He set his jaw. It would be mad for her to hex him here, but she'd done it on Level Two, so who knows. As if he'd be any match for her anyway.

Figaro was growing more visibly agitated. With everything their family had gone through in the last few years, he was becoming more and more protective.

           "Don't try and pretend you were going to hex me until I brought up your sodding aunt."

"Are you always this stupid?" Raine snapped back, pointing her wand at him demonstratively. "I said I wasn't sorry for hexing you, not why I hexed you. Of course I burned your crotch for bringing up Ira!" Sometimes it felt like they didn't even speak the same language - Fig was always jumping the shark and making assumptions. Much like the Daily Prophet.

She could taste a kind of poison rising inside her, the kind she had talked about with Abby. It was the instinct to look at anybody she didn't like as nothing more than a bother. A cretin. Because that's what her aunt was good at, forgetting other people's humanity.

"I don't remember ever bringing up your sorry excuse of a family history," Raine muttered as she breathed out heatedly, "and, really, the nerve you have comparing[1] Sellaphix to Almasy? Like it's the same thing?"

There were places in London where people would mistake Figaro's surname for a sneeze, and he thought he could just throw around hers like it was equally significant? Raine wasn't proud of the Almasys but she was learning to own the name.

"People will forget about the apothecary and Runespoors in your lifetime," she shook her head and forced herself to unclench her jaw. "Ira killed so many people. Children, Fig. They died on hospital beds, hysterical and covered in... in blood and sick. And she enjoyed it. Don't you read anything your newspaper writes? That's my history."

It hadn't been clear when Ira died in April but the extent of her aunt's crimes had been laid out like a tapestry since joining level two. The ones they knew about anyway.

"If you bring her up like that again, I will hex you and answer to Carstairs for it." Raine held up her wand emphatically and met Figaro in the eye - she'd already made a cursory estimation of where his wand was. "Or you can answer my questions so that I can leave you to your hovel and pizza."

1.	"And why did you think it'd be a swimming idea to give out my name? Almasy knows what I'm talking about."  He looked to Raine for a bit of support, there. Didn't she share a surname with some mass murderer or something? - Okay, Spill

Raine raised her wand. Figaro swore and leapt up from the bed and fell back against the wall, one hand up and the other down. He hissed in a breath, bracing for a hex that didn't come.

"Sh-!"

When all she ended up doing was yelling more, he let out the breath but didn't move. It only took a temper and a titch to cast a spell and Raine had plenty of both. But this time was different than the last - she seemed to Fig less angry and more upset. And after a moment, it was clear why.

As she spoke about the horrors of what Ira Almasy had done and the blight that had fallen on their family name, Figaro let his guard down. He'd thought that he and Raine had something in common, but he'd missed the mark by miles.

He felt terrible, but he couldn't warm up to Raine dealing with her problems by assaulting him. As he stood there hoping she didn't crack and blow his bollocks off, he wondered if she could even see how messed up this was. She'd used her badge to get into his place and was now holding him at wand point because he'd hurt her feelings, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Raine raised her wand again and Figaro winced.

"I'm sorry. Fine. It's fine," he said. He was embarrassed that his hands shook as he gestured for her to back off.

When she did, he sat down on the edge of the bed again and crossed his arms. He nodded at the quill.

"Okay. You need that?"

He had no idea what he could possibly tell Raine that would be any help, but he resolved then not to say anything about the Apothecary. He knew his mom never would, not unless she was dragged in front of the Wizengamot itself.

He flinched, and she barely caught herself thinking: coward.

Raine pushed the thought away just as quickly - Fig wasn't a coward, he was just making a reasonable assumption based on their last interaction. Not that flinching would help anyone take a hex. At least he was agreeing to her original intent of interviewing him for the investigation. His hands were shaking. Was he actually afraid of her? That made her feel.... odd. Like looking at yourself through someone else's eyes.

            "Okay. You need that?"

"Of course," she pointed her wand back at the quill and it impatiently danced back to life. "An interruption to questioning, for personal reasons, took place at approximately -" Raine checked her watch as she addressed the quill, " - 1310 hours and resumes now at 1314 hours."

Fauna was going to have to be told about this. Just in case. She cleared her throat and crossed her legs before turning her attention back to Fig. "I'll repeat the question. Where were you between the hours of one and two in the morning yesterday, November third?"

The adrenaline was fading away, but the sense of dread remained. It was eerie how Raine seemed to transition so easily to making threats to going back to the measured comportment of a routine interview. Routine for her, maybe. 'Personal reasons?' Hell.  He had an impulse to report her, but realistically, how far would his complaint go? Carstairs had his number.

She repeated her first question.

Yesterday. What was today? He'd been holed up in indulgent solitude and it was easy to lose track of time. It was the fourth. He had work tomorrow night, the fifth. So night before last.

"Here. Sleeping," he said.  Weren't most people home at two in the morning? He didn't look up. Had he just established a (weak) alibi, or confirmed that he didn't see anything. "Alone," he added.

Figaro knew he shouldn't say anything else, that he should just answer the questions. The sooner he did, the sooner Raine would leave, and the less information he'd given Aurors. But he was who he was.

"But, what papers?"

His mind was racing. He had no idea what Pilpher and Whatever was, and what information could they possibly have about their family's shop? Coupons? Zelda Sellaphix had a death grip on the books and the of discretion with their, well, more discreet clients was rock solid. And if papers about their shop had been stolen, why was he a person of interest and not, like, a victim or something? And why did they send bloody Raine Almasy of all people?

            "Alone," he clarified and Raine snorted softly.

Fortunately, the quill didn't record derisive sounds. The idea of someone sharing a bed with Figaro seemed laughable now that she had seen the state of his flat! If he and Virgil really were knocking around together, she hoped for Carstairs' sake that they did it at his place in Diagon.

"The papers were relevant to a private investigation instigated a few years ago." Raine informed him after she had given herself a moment to consider whether that would help or harm the questioning. "I can't disclose any more than that," she shrugged.

Her thoughts were racing with possibilities. First possibility: Fig did it to protect his mum and wants to know how much level two knows. Second: Fig didn't do it but he's trying to find out what dirt Pilpher & Stride has about Sellaphix Apothecary. She wasn't going to let on, either way.

"Have you ever met or seen Foy Pilpher or Guiseppe Stride?" she continued with her questioning, reaching into her front pocket to retrieve a photograph of the two wizards. "Or maybe you've heard of their names before? Heard your mum mention them?"

Didn't seem like there was a single thing he did or said that didn't illicit some stuck-up comment or disgusted sound from Raine. It was exhausting. Where the hell was she two nights ago? Sipping fine wine at some charity gala surrounded by white tigers?

Every new piece of information Raine placed in front of him was less comforting than the last. Who would try and spy on the Apothecary? Better question, maybe: who wouldn't? They'd lost a lot of business after the Runespoor thing, Aurors snooping around didn't inspire much confidence in their customers on either side of the alley.

Figaro had to stand up to reach the photos, but hesitated when Raine brought up his mum.

"She didn't have anything to with this," he said, a note of warning in his voice.

Figaro didn't know if Raine had heard about what had happened to Zelda Sellaphix these last few months, but he doubt she'd give a shit. He glanced down at the picture, and shrugged. It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate long enough to give a confident answer.

"I don't know. I don't recognize them."

He handed the picture back and crossed his arms again, trying to figure this out.

"That it?"

Now that his mum's name was on the table, he was more and more impatient for this to be over.