“Ma’am, please can you sit down?” The welcome witch said, clearly exasperated as Genevieve García-Gamp paced across the room for the umpteenth time, the heels of her black sparkly stilettoes clicking obnoxiously loud on the stone floor.

Gen stopped pacing and turned to face the welcome witch.
“We’ve been waiting 20 minutes. Can you remind her I’m actually here again? It’s not like I don’t have a job to get to.” Gen and Talisha had spent a considerable amount of time going through everything she had to say before she’d had a chance to shower and once more become a presentable human being with no more baggy cardigans, scruffy hair and morning breath. Now, Gen was once more clad in trademark heels, skinny black jeans and a black leather jacket over a cream blouse. Her hair was neatly styled and makeup once more impeccable. Her whole demeanour, however, ruined the image. She was fidgety and nervous and hadn’t been able to sit down still for more than a couple of minutes when they’d first arrived.

Failing to take the glare from the welcome witch seriously, Gen walked back over to Crowe but remained standing, arms crossed.
“This is ridiculous. She’s playing a game. I did say. Hates me. Thirteen years on and she’s-” Gen stopped when she heard footsteps approach and she span around to see Auror Roh. Thank Merlin she didn’t have her teenaged posse with her now. This would be unpleasant enough without the mannerless niece of a murderess.

It wasn't really possible to truly console Genevieve (not Genny). Talisha wasn't the consoling type (although she was placating, ameliorating, and deft as the situation required), and on top of that no hugs or pats or cups-a-tea would change the facts that had Genevieve in a worry.

They'd agreed on three things before they left the flat. Well, Talisha had advised on these three things before they left the flat, whether or not her client was on board, eh, they'd have to see. It was still a very new relationship. That cutesy phase with all the surprises. But anyway, the points were these:

1. Just because you aren't a suspect now, doesn't mean you won't be later so avoid confessing to things.
2. Don't lie. Aurors hate that and they tend to find out.
3. When you start feeling that need to run out of the room, channel it into shushing.

But here in the waiting room, Talisha stood quietly with Gen saying listening noieses like, 'yes dear' and 'mmhmm'. She wasn't concerned at the time the Aurors were taking. Genevieve had really popped the cauldron and the name of Kingstreet would probably add a bit of paperwork to what was promising to be a long day.

Zora noted her arrival bit off whatever Garcia-Gamp was talking about in mid-sentence. The Witch Weekly Editor was all put together again; still seemed a bit cracked, though, under the fresh veneer. Zora never ceased to be amazed at the witch's ability to transform herself, truly.

"Right. This way."

She led them back to a small meeting room. On their way, Zora noticed Abby Reid sat up in her seat like a well-behaved golden retriever. Zora kept herself from rolling her eyes to hard, but gave Carstairs's cheery assistant the wink-and-nod that yes, some of Level Two's spartan hospitality would be a help.

Zora closed the door after them, and started things off by taking a seat.  It was half-used for a stack of filing cabinets, half-used for situations where some peace-and-quiet was needed and the intimidation of an interrogation room wasn't.  The previous occupant's name was almost entirely scraped off the beaded glass door window.

"Thank you for coming in," she said. "You're not charged with any crimes, but this is a formal interview and you have the right to legal assistance. Our words will be transcribed for the record. Anything you say may be used as evidence in court."

The room was different, but the Zora couldn't help but hear herself thirteen years ago saying the same thing to the same witch.

No apology for keeping them waiting. None at all. Just a ‘This way’ and she was leading them down a corridor that seemed too familiar as Gen had been brought down this way years ago, also in regards to hr husband. Back then, however, she’d been far more terrified than she happened to be today. The similarity? Back then she’d been staring down a tunnel of no hope. Today, she felt rather the same.

Not charged…yet. Formal interview. Transcribed. Evidence in court. Gen had thrown herself head first into an enormous pile of dragon dung and she couldn’t even blame Leo for this one.

Gen was sat stiffly upright in the chair beside her perhaps overfamiliar lawyer. The unpleasant angry morning wakeup and anxiety had taken their toll on the usually polished witch. She knew the cracks that she’d sealed together were once more starting to show.
“Evidence against my husband?” She couldn’t help it spilling out despite Crowe’s insistence that she think before she speak. “You clearly want him to be responsible.”

It was a strange feeling, to stick up for Leo. 13 years ago, the knowledge of what he’d done had almost destroyed her. Gen had been a mess, horrified that she could have fallen in love with such a monster. Now she kept swinging between all sorts of variations on his innocence and guilt. she had no idea what to believe. Except one thing. Leo Gamp wasn’t responsible for the murder of this Azkaban guard.

“It’s perfect really. Then he gets to stay locked up and Level 2 doesn’t look like the incompetent bumbling imbeciles that you clearly are.”

Fauna had just one job. That job was not to solve murders, oh no. She'd had a simple task: ask Queen G, the Queen G, a couple of questions about the magazine and about fashion and her whole intriguing life! Fauna had not done this. She claimed it hadn't been appropriate to ask while she'd been at Genevieve's flat this morning with Raine and Roh. Not the right time, Abby. I had things to do, Abby.

"What did her flat look like," Abby had hurried after her desperately. "Was it the most stylish place you've ever seen?"

"Er, it was nice. It was clean. There were a lot of books on the shelves."

"What kind of books?"

"I didn't get a good look. There was a, uh, book mishap."

"What about her clothes, her shoes, her wardrobe, did you check it out? The shoes, Fauna! The whole case is about shoes!"

"Erm, I did not. I was talking to someone else."

"Who searched her things then? Raine? Please say Raine."

Fauna smiled. "Roh."

"No! Noooo. She's not going to know! I can't ask Roh about the shoes, have you seen the state of her boots! Fauna! How could you?"

"I'm sorry," Fauna said. "You might get the chance to ask her yourself, you know."

And now that time had come, and Abby had the opportunity to meet Queen G, the Queen G, in person. Even if it was just a glimpse! Roh had given her the 'go on' glance, and Abby was now walking down the hallway with a tray of tea in her hands, feeling very happy about life.

She knocked on the door of the interview room, opened it, and paused for just a moment at the already tense atmosphere.

"Roh," Abby nodded at the Auror. Thank you, Roh! Sorry for disparaging your fashion sense to Fauna, Roh!

"Ms. Crowe, nice to see you again." That poor lawyer was always getting dragged into her client's messes!

"Queen G," Abby smiled at the editor, eyes sparkling. She was so put together in the face of tragedy! That jacket! "If you need anything, please let me know."

She gestured at the small stack of Ministry memos on the tray, next to an auto-ink quill, the teapot and the three teacups, the sugar and the cream.

Except they were not official Ministry memos. The memos were embossed with a 'W', not an 'M', and the profile of a witch in a fashionable hat. Abby had received this stationary a few years ago and enjoyed sending off little notes to her friends at the Ministry, sharing gossip with - what else! - her pink glitter pen.

The door opened and another young witch stepped in carrying a tea tray. She was beaming brightly, clearly oblivious to the already unpleasant tension in the room. Crowe had obviously made an impression before, a fact which Gen wasn’t sure that she was pleased about. One could only hope it was the right impression that a lawyer wanted to give.

At the greeting of ‘Queen G’, Gen forced a smile to her lips. The tray carrier was clearly a fan. What a time to have a fan show up!

“Thank you.” G responded calmly, her eyes scanning down to the stationary. Witch Weekly stationary. Very nice. Very briefly, Gen racked her brains, remembering seeing similar on the desk for Carstairs’ assistant when she’d come in to find out about Leo. The sign next to her name had said something about unicorns. Agatha…Alice…Abby. She chose to take a risk. “Abby, is it? Cute memos. You should try the glittery ones. They compliment you whenever you write on them. Great for cheering up on a bad day.” The editor winked and glanced down. Not even glittery complimentary memo pads were going to improve her day.

Abby was perfect. 'Queen G' seemed to relax for a few hot seconds to be gracious to the junior staff. A graciousness that Zora would probably not receive, but anything to give Garcia-Gamp some kind of lift. Zora needed her calm.

Zora smiled. "Thank you, Abby."

She gave the two a moment to say their farewells before continuing patiently.

"Genevieve..." she started, not remembering if she'd used her first name with her yet, "I don't care about your husband. As far as I'm concerned his case is for the courts. I want to find the truth in who killed Shahidi. And right now, the only connection between Leo Gamp and Shahidi is you. I think you can help me."

She glanced at Talisha Crowe, who was reflecting some of her client's suspicion.

"I..." Zora swallowed her pride. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you before. But I need you to work with me here."

“Before?” Gen asked quietly. She was still staring at the door where the young assistant had left them to it. She too wanted to just wander off, oblivious to the real terrors life could deal. But she was sat here face to face with an old enemy. Yes, there was an ally by her side, but this ally was being handsomely paid for the duty.  “You treated me like a criminal, Zora. I was terrified and pregnant and my husband was facing life.”

After a pause, Gen shrugged and poured herself a cup of tea. She continued speaking as she poured another 2 cups.
“What does it matter, anyway? It's in the past. This time I have actually @!&?ed up and I think I need you as much as you need me.” Leo himself had called her all sorts of names to do with being idiotic. He was right and now she was rightly scared.

Still needing something to do with her hands, Gen proceeded to top each cup with a dash of milk.
“Thank you for your apology.” She glanced up from the cups, offering a mildly strained smile. It did actually mean a lot that Zora had apologised. “I guess I'll start with why I went to see her? Sugar?”

Talisha Crowe placed a hand on the table in front of her client to stave of what was sure to be an unmitigated flow of information. As much as she trusted the intentions of most Aurors, they couldn't be trusted entirely. They said what they had to and could just as easily not follow through. Promises of 'not a suspect' were only as temporary as the meeting. 'I'm here to help you,' were hollow.

She wrinkled her nose in a smile at the Auror.

"Before we begin, we will require assurances of immunity concerning the hypothetical means of the alleged visit to the individual in question. My client has been through sufficient trials and travails without having to maneuver the arcana of hypothetical self-incrimination."

There was a long pause while the Auror considered it.

"In writing."

Zora shook her head in annoyance. She didn't have the authority. That would need one of Level Two's prosecution attorneys or Carstairs.

"That's going to take time. We need to keep moving. A man is dead. Just... tell me what you're comfortable with and I'll see what I can do about the immunity."

Talisha narrowed her eyes. Then went in to whisper to Genevieve.

"Righto, stick to what was said between you. Nothing about how you got in. Good girl."

She sat back and waved at Genevieve encouragingly.

It seemed apparent that, without a lawyer, Gen may have been capable of talking herself into an arrest and a holding cell. While Roh and Crowe (cool duo of names for a crime fighting pair in a comic book) were debating semantics, Gen stirred her tea, her dark eyes watching the swirling effect that her spoon had on the liquid. It felt like two adults talking about her, a naughty child who was about to grass on a schoolmate to avoid getting in her own trouble.

Crowe even sealed the deal with a ‘good girl’ causing Gen to find herself considering, not for the first time today, instructing a new lawyer. It emerged that quickly finding a lawyer at short notice gained you over familiarity and a patronising manner.

Biding herself thinking time, the editor lifted her cup to her lips for a long sip of the hot beverage.
“Right…so.” The cup was replaced on the table and she glanced up at the auror. “I went to visit Kingstreet.” No details on how she got in, right. “I wanted to write some notes but there’s some ridiculous rule about not having a quill and parchment in her company. But well, she started out asking me why I’d lied about her. Apparently, my book sullied her reputation by…” She glanced up, trying to recall the number, “fifteen percent, I think? Either way, it was weird. She’s clearly been stewing over that for a while. Apparently, I’m on a list. Slated for a ‘correction’. Like…she emphasised the word ‘correction’.

Zora relaxed with caution. Genevieve and her lawyer wanted to cooperate, Zora could tell, if Zora pressed too hard they'd tie up, she was sure.

She did what did all the time, took her time scratching notes. Time to hide the awe at Genevieve's brazen notion to visit Kingstreet in Azkaban. Only to find herself on some ... list. Kingstreet biding her life sentence dreaming up revenge seemed believable, but Merlin, there had to be dozens more sorry souls that Kingstreet would hate more than a gossip columnist.

Zora tapped her quill.

"What else did you talk about?"

The auror asked for more information and Gen, without casting a glance to her lawyer, chose to continue.

“She seemed to think that I should be grateful.” Gen was looking down at her hands as she tried to recall the exacts of the conversation. Hindsight said she should have written it all down as soon as she’d left the room, but she’d been too perturbed to do anything but get off the island as swiftly as physically possible.

“Apparently, it was obvious why she’d used me in the trial. Said how I pretended to not know anything about what Leo was accused of doing. She made it sound as if I put him away.” The witch wasn’t only looking at her hands now; she was wringing them nervously. “I told her how his lawyer’s play is based on her being insane. She said it wouldn’t matter.” Gen paused, taking care as she repeated the words that she’d committed to memory. “The facts will speak for themselves.  And you can be certain the facts are sound; I arranged them myself.”

“I tried to press that point,” she glanced up and shrugged. “you know, wind her up a bit. Make it sound as if she’d never be capable of that. It backfired. She just…snapped.”

Genevieve was either the bravest or most foolish witch Zora had ever encountered. Who in their right mind would attempt to 'wind up' Kingstreet, a witch whose vindictive nature had become an existential threat to wizarding society. But in contrast to Genevieve's brashness, she'd had the clarity of mind to memorize Kingstreet's words verbatim.

Zora kept her cool by taking her time with her notes. The connection she was trying to track down - the connection between Leo Gamp and Shahidi - was fading quickly. But, to Zora's anxiety, the connection to Theodora Kingstreet was coelescing. She'd been desperately hoping this wasn't the case. To interact at all with Kingstreet was massively risky. And it was becoming grimly clear that her imprisonment was not the impediment that everyone thought.

The Auror looked up from her notes. Genevieve looked as nervous as Zora felt inside. Crowe was trying to hide it, but Zora could tell she was on edge. As Genevieve's lawyer in this case, she was directly in the line of fire.

"What do you mean 'snapped'?"

It was Zora's first question regarding what Genevieve just said, but wouldn't be her last. What the hell was going on?

She didn’t want to go into this. She didn’t want to relive her interview with the maniac. But, clearly, Gen had no choice and here she was, now picking at the skin surrounding her thumb nail, staring down at her hands.

“She started hissing at me. Said that I was inept, nothing. Said she could find me and crush me like a cockroach.” Gen took a breath as she considered the words. Before, she’d taken them as an empty threat, but now, with the guard dead, they were real. “Told me my death certificate is written.” Glistening dark eyes shot up to meet Zora’s face. “I thought nothing of it. But then you showed up and said about the guard. I panicked. She’s had someone come into my home. My son lives there.”

Zora frowned. The threat to Genevieve - Kingstreet had more than implied it.

"We can place a guard," she offered. "Or if there's someone else you two can stay..."

She flipped the page in her notebook. "Just a few more questions, if you can."

"Before that day, did you ever have any reason to believe Kingstreet had a vendetta against you? Any cause to think she'd manipulated unethically in Leo's trial somehow?"

After getting the responses, she had one more. She glanced at Talisha Crowe with a raised eyebrow before making prolonged eye contact with her subject.

"Genevieve, do you have any other connection to Gilgamesh Shahidi? Do you have any possible idea of why killing him would be a message to you."