"She didn't have anything to with this," Fig's concern for his mum was almost touching. Almost.

Raine rolled her eyes but didn't reply. It was weird how people said things like aurors were obliged to believe them. Anyway, in spite of what had happened to Zelda with the pentrals, she still remembered how horrible the old witch had been when she came to survey the apothecary. Apparently insulting Almasys was something the Sellaphixes enjoyed.

"No," she replied bluntly when he asked if they were done. "I need to see your wand to verify your most recently performed spell." Raine glanced at the mantel, where she had spotted his wand earlier.

There wasn't much else she could ask Figaro - he already claimed to be asleep and alone, already denied knowing Pilpher and Strider. Any further questions would mean revealing the nature of the other things stolen. She didn't feel senior enough to make that call.

"Unless you'd rather not?" Raine held out her hand and raised her eyebrows.

Figaro's heart sank into his stomach and his eyes followed hers to his maple wand on the mantle.

"No!" he blurted indignantly, but didn't yet make a move to go grab it.

He set his jaw. "No.  And I don't think you can make me. I'm not a suspect," he said with more confidence than he had rights to.  He didn't know how any of this worked, other than the WWN detective programs his dad had liked. They were always dumping wands on those things, always busting down doors and Apparating directly into people's homes. Apparently proper paperwork got in the way of pacing an episode.

Fig was again risking pissing off Raine, but he figured that was going to happen regardless. Might as well try and maintain some semblance of privacy. He was wracked his brain trying to think of what he'd actually cast recently but it was surprisingly difficult.  He'd just been sitting around. Then the clutter in his place reminded him. He'd been going through some old books on Pentrals and Dementors and one of them needed an encryption disenchanted.

Not the most dreadfully incriminating (or even embarassing) spell to be in there, but that didn't matter.

"So no, I would rather not," he said again.

No?

She had no idea why anyone would refuse to cooperate unless they were genuinely hiding something. This was the second time in their interview that Figaro was proving to be a problem - he wasn't acting like an innocent person, regardless of whether or not he had actually broken into Pilpher and Stride's. He was being a big baby about it all.

"That's too bad -" Raine muttered as she got up and approached the mantel herself, "- because you're legally obliged to, as a person of interest in this investigation. And I have authorisation to do this, by the way, even if I'm not a real auror, as you so nicely put it."

Casting priori incanto was one of the few things auror trainees were permitted to do even if their subjects didn't consent, mostly because of the time factor. If someone refused, they might tamper with their wand in the time it took a fully fledged auror to come down. Worse, they might break or claim to have lost it.

For a moment it looked like Fig was going to stop her - but then he didn't[1] so she slowly reached for the wand. "I am going to quickly use a reverse spell to examine the last spell you have cast."

She adjusted the position of Figaro's wand before pointing her own at it.

"Prior incanto," Raine uttered solemnly as a gold light focused on the other wand, causing it to spit out a demonstration of its last spell. A revealing charm. That.... that was one of the spells used at the break-in. She had her back to him, and quickly composed her expression.

His guilt suddenly seemed a lot more serious. Raine turned around, addressing the notepad. "The last spell cast by Figaro Sellaphix's wand, a 12 inch maple, was Specialis Revelio..." she trailed off to consider Fig for a second.

"Unless you have anything further to add, I think we can end this interview now. Thank you for your cooperation."

1.	Permission from Sarah!

"That's too bad," she said and Figaro scoffed in exasperation. Then why did she ask. If only to have him on 'quill' saying no? Great. Just lovely.

It was difficult to stop himself going for his wand, to try and stop her from meddling with it. He didn't care what was on it, he hadn't done anything illegal, but it was just the principle of the thing. He folded his arms and covered his mouth instead. Figaro had never seen Prior Incanto cast, only heard it described on the Wiredless. If he wasn't so freaked out, he might have been curious.

Sure enough, the tightly coiled smoke-like spell-light of Specialis Revelio appeared, and to Figaro's surprise, Raine recognized it. It hadn't been a spell that had just been on the tip of his tongue - he'd had to look it up. Also surprising: she didn't have a comment. He'd expected her to have something nasty to say about his last spell cast, but she was dry as a bone.

"Unless you have anything further to add, I think we can end this interview now. Thank you for your cooperation."

He took his hand off his mouth and flipped her the bird, his expression mostly disgust.

With the encounter quickly ending, he was beginning to queue up his next moves. Namely, getting his arse to the Apothecary the second Raine was gone.

Her lips twitched into a crooked smile when Figaro flipped her off - she couldn't help but take some satisfaction in upsetting him. Raine brandished her wand at the notepad, then folded it up with the quill before slipping both into her pocket. There were still a couple of other errands to run - and then she would have to report this to Fauna.

"Have a good afternoon," she flashed him a superficial smile as she turned to leave. "We'll be in touch should we have any further questions." It took a lot of will power not to add don't leave town.

In the corridor outside Fig's flat, Raine paused to check her to-do list. But there was something... something familiar in the air. She lifted her nose slightly. That scent. Birch and black pepper. A very English cologne, in the colonial sense. The kind a handsome woman might wear to lunch or an older man...

No. No, it wasn't him. Anyone could wear that cologne, especially around this part of town. Layton was dead. Dead as Ira. Raine suppressed a shudder and left, trying not to think about the last time she had breathed in that understated scent. Now wasn't the time to linger on the past - she had work to do.

It was all Figaro could do not to slam the door in Raine's smug, psycho face. She departed as if she'd just been doing a courtesy inspection of the Floo Network and hadn't just interrogated him.  It was eerie how seamlessly she could elide from calm to chaos.

As soon as she was gone, Figaro snatched up his offended wand and locked the door. Then he set about frantically cleaning up.  There was approximately zero chance that this was over. If Aurors were coming back, he'd rather not have his life on display.

He cast a tidying charm on the piles of laundry and dishes, the subjects of the magic folding and stacking and finding their places. Figaro handled all the books and notes by hand. Since the incident at St. Mungo's where Dementors came hungry for Pentrals, the Daily Prophet had been able to cover more and more of the details. Figaro had been doing some of his own research - it still wasn't clear how Zelda had come to be possessed. It had all been a bit of a dead end, but the leftovers of his efforts were everywhere.

He gathered everything up into an empty suitcase, and pulled on a proper pair of trousers. In five minutes' time, he had Apparated to Knockturn Alley.