Dr Bombay’s scalpel was dropped onto the tray, metal clattering loudly against metal. The scalpel detached from the ME’s hand symbolised the end of this post mortem. Highly alert eyes, covered by dark rimmed spectacles looked up to the slightly older woman standing across the table and the mask covering the doctor’s mouth creased as the concealed lips beneath formed a small smile.

“Yes, Go ahead, Greer, I’ll clear up.” Hannah’s aide, Veronica Greer was actually hoping to be able to go home on time tonight. Apparently some people, even in her profession, went out on dates. Well good luck to the older woman. Bombay had promised her early release and without a second’s pause, Veronica had dashed out of the Autopsy Lab and behind the glass screen, Hannah watched her aide tear off her mask and scrubs and head merrily out of the room.

Here she was, now alone with a dead, and now mutilated body. Anybody else would have been scared, fearful of expecting the deceased inhabitating the room to jump up from its resting place and feast on the vulnerable and living body. Hannah had never even had dreams including such ridiculous ideas. No, sharing this room with one of the dead felt as normal to Hannah as having a mug of herbal tea in the morning. It left her feeling calm and at peace.

Hannah’s attention was now on the body laid out in front of her, naked and carefully sliced into. This was the bit that bothered Hannah about her job. No matter how much care she took to retain any dignity for her ‘patients’, little was ever kept. She was still degrading a human body for the means of both science and justice. It was for the good of the victim, but Hannah sincerely hoped to never be put in such a position herself. She didn’t want her body to be laid bare and vulnerable on someone else’s autopsy table.

“What happened to you, dear?” Hannah whispered delicately, her gloved hand tenderly stroking her young victim’s matted blonde hair back.

Hannah’s mind was so focused that she practically jumped out of her skin as some inconsiderate moron banged loudly on the glass window separating the lab from the viewing room. The ME snatched up the scalpel (closer to hand than her wand) and span around on her heeled shoes to settle her brown eyes on the moron. Dante Ward, head of the department of mysteries and man she definitely didn’t enjoy spending time with. Hannah would firmly state that she would rather stick flaming pins in her eyes than send any unnecessary time in his company. In truth, she didn’t abhor the man quite as much as she tended to state.

“Don’t try and sneak up on a woman with a scalpel, Mr Ward.” Dr Bombay said calmly having regained her composure. ‘I might just stab you with it.”

Wearing

It was getting late when the report was brought to him by one of the aides down on Level Two.  Every so often he would get these reports, much to his annoyance and discomfort that sent him down to the autopsy lab.  To make matters worse, it usually meant having to play nice with Dr. Hannah Bombay as it was her territory.  She was insufferable and the kind of woman who felt she always had to have the last word in a conversation.  She provided a challenge, and he would never admit that in some small way he did enjoy the verbal sparring.  It was simply easier to focus on the negative traits and feel like knowing off his own arm would be more pleasant.

She was alone in the lab, her assistant having passed him in the hallway on her way out.  He smirked slightly from the viewing room watching her talking to the body on the table before raising a hand to the glass and giving a sharp knock.  She jumped, much to his amusement, but his face didn’t show it.  Without waiting for an invitation he made his way from the viewing area into the main lab, sure it would only further add to her annoyance.

“I’ve always liked living dangerously, Bombay,” he quipped dryly.  “It keeps me from feeling like one of your victims.”

He glanced at the table, the report he had received in hand.  He was certainly not squeamish, but whenever he was forced to venture down to the lab did he actually look at the face of the person on the table.  He could remain the detached researcher that way and look at things from a purely scientific standing.  Without looking at the face of the victim it was somehow less real in his mind and easier to ignore whatever horror had occurred.

“So, it seems that someone in your department felt the need to drop this on my desk,” he said holding up the report slightly.  “Another exercise in interoffice cooperation.  You know how much I do enjoy those.”

First the ignorant man had the cheek, the disgusting nerve, the much resented impudence to bang rudely on the glass window, frightening the ME half to death. She’d been of the disillusioned opinion that she was alone in the lab. People didn’t just pop by for a coffee and a chat in the autopsy lab (except Tamis Raynor). It definitely wasn’t customary.

Next the intolerable fool had the complete audacity to march straight into her lab, her sanctuary without so much as a polite greeting let alone waiting to be invited. He would pay for that disrespect. Her lips pursed, Hannah pulled the mask down off her face and let it hang loosely around her neck.

‘And it would be nice if you were one of my victims’ Hannah thought to herself as she lifted gloved hands to her glasses and pushed the dark rimmed spectacles up onto the top of her head, revealing her eyes as she used all her self control to not glare. The man irritated her, a difficult job to do but he managed it with such ease.

Sensibly, the ME decided not to rise to the bait and simply didn’t respond, however many times she’d briefly considered tying him down to the table and making him apologise for the rude comments he’d made in the past. Ward wanted her to get irritated; he enjoyed playing the cold, usually emotionless Magical Examiner. Apparently it was a game. Not one Hannah enjoyed. But she could bite back just as hard. First, she needed to get warmed up; she’d been taken off guard by the shock. Not that she’d tell her colleague that.

Hannah glanced across at the report he held up, secretly regretting taking her glasses off. She couldn’t see a word from this distance and she wasn’t getting any closer. The man already had almost a foot on her; she didn’t want to exaggerate that any further. He’d relish in that.

“I’m surprised you didn’t send one of your minions down, Ward. What with the mess you made in my sink when we had the exhumed body of that 3 years dead Death Eater in. I thought you were going to pass out to complete the chaos. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you gracing this room so soon afterwards.”

The woman had a superiority complex and she wasn’t usually easily irritated from what he had heard.  Yet somehow he managed to usually irk her without too much trouble, something he tended to relish in.  Dante would never tell her that there were times she too succeed in getting the better of him, she simply didn’t need to know that.  She might have a good poker face, but he had several more years of experience and it usually meant she had a more difficult time reading him.  Or at least he thought so.

“The last time I sent a minion down, or, more specifically, brought on with me, he made the mess in your sink,” he informed her coolly.  “Seeing as I rather like having my employees not lose their lunches I thought it would be best I came done myself and unaccompanied.  Although, if you would rather deal with another mess in your sink…”

He trailed off with a smirk.  It certainly had not been him on that occasion who had found himself suffering from a weak stomach.  Just because he didn’t like to allow himself to focus on the fact that a human life had been claimed and the body was laying cold and still on a slab didn’t mean he couldn’t be in the same room as a body.

Almost lazily he scanned the report again.  There wasn’t much there yet.  Some unknown cause of death, and it didn’t appear to be spell related.  Usually unsolved deaths were either spell or potion related, the latter pertaining directly to his own specialty.

“Is that the victim?” he asked motioning to the body as he looked up from the report.  “I mean it seems someone has it in their head that my department needed to be called in for this.  What have you found that a the Auror’s report isn’t going to tell me?”

Hannah looked up at the man, her eyes defiantly remaining on his. He may have been tall and imposing. He may have been grumpy and some big shot down in his department. He wasn’t here. This was Dr. Hannah Bombay’s territory and people would damn well respect her in this room. If they didn’t, they weren’t given the information they found so vital, or helped with things they simply couldn’t do themselves. Hannah held the key to knowledge in this lab and she was the boss of it. Not that she liked the power or anything...In truth she liked the solitude the room usually provided her with. Except when ignorant morons stepped in without invite.

“Of course it was one of your minions.” Hannah replied, the smallest tinge of sarcasm in her usually smooth voice. Trust Ward to cast the blame onto one of his employees like he would no doubt cast his underpants at the wall in his bedroom. It seemed like the typical thing for him to do. She wasn’t about to start an argument about casting the blame. Hannah was above that. In fact, she didn’t much care who had made the mess, it was more the fact she and Veronica had been forced into clearing it up. That had smelt worse than a dead body in her opinion and had taken several spells to remove it from the pipes. Sick really got everywhere. The thought caused the ME the purse her lips, unimpressed.

“You should warn them next time. It’s not the fact they’re sharing a room with the deceased that usually bothers most people,” Hannah stated plainly her tone having been set to her default, emotionless pitch “It’s the smell. Especially of a corpse that’s been rotting for three years in the earth.” The odour had even had its effect on the young witch when the corpse had first been brought in. One could never fully prepare themselves for the stench of rotting flesh, even after years of working with it.

“Is that the victim?”

“It is.” The Magical Examiner confirmed as she turned her attention from the imposing imbecile to the young girl lying on the table. People tended to ask Hannah how she coped with her work. Did she distance herself from what she was doing? Did she look into the face of her ‘patient’ or did that just make her emotional? In truth, Hannah fully connected with the fact she was dealing with a human body. She fully connected with what had happened to the poor individual before and after death. It was what kept her doing her work.  She had to find justice for these victims.

Someone decided Ward needed to be called and that meant Hannah had to put on a dance for him. Sometimes life really did bite you in the butt, even if you behaved. Hannah’s lips pursed once more as she stepped back over to the table and glanced over her shoulder at the tall man.

“Scrub up then and I can show you.” She waved a gloved hand in the direction of the sterile sink where several sets of clean scrubs, fresh masks and new latex gloves sat ready for a visitor to don. “Then you can help me clear up. Greer left exactly thirteen minutes ago for a date.”

He looked down at the report, not wanting to really think about rotting corpses.  Part of him wondered if she was really as completely detached as she appeared or if she was merely good at forcing down her emotions as he did day in and day out.  He ignored his own emotions as he had done for the majority of his life.  It would take more then the memory of that particularly horrific case and the current victim to truly rattle him.

When she confirmed the body of the slab was indeed the victim detailed in the report he had been sent he took another glance over at the body.  He had very few facts aside from that the victim was female and young.  A life clearly cut short too soon by someone who didn’t deserve the air they were currently breathing.  He pushed the thought aside though a little surprised when she told him to scrub up.  He watched her for a moment, and then conceded since he doubted getting information from her the easy way was possible.

“Dates are completely overrated,” he mumbled a bit, setting the report aside.  His employees knew better then to leave early when there was work to be done.  He wasn’t completely unreasonable but he expected when something important came in that they would remain to see things through.  Clearly Bombay saw no problem with leaving hear to flounce around on some personal affair.

Heading towards the sink he went about the processes of donning the scrubs and preparing for whatever she had in mind.  Honestly how was it he ended up at the end of his day not only having to associate with Bombay but apparently having to serve as her underling for this experience?  Was it so difficult for her to just tell him what she had figured out so far?  He knew too if he said no and demanded she just tell him what he needed to know she would forever hold it over him as if it was some sort of weakness.

He moved back across the room once he was properly prepared, mask and gloves in place.  It wouldn’t be the first time he had worked with corpses.  During his training he had sat in on more then on autopsy to learn the affects of poison on a person.  This would really be no different.

“Alright, Dr. Bombay,” he said his eyes showing the complete lack of amusement he was feeling, “now will you answer my question?”

While Ward took his time putting on the clean protective garment, mask and gloves, Hannah placed the black rimmed spectacles back on her nose and used her wand to once more sanitize her gloved hands. Cleanliness was imperative in her line of work. Any germs; any fingerprints could ruin evidence. That’s why she wore the gloves. And because getting all sorts of flesh and dried blood in her finger nails would just be nasty and unpleasant. People, probably like Mr Ward himself, no doubt presumed the garments and masks she asked them to wear were simply for her own amusement, laughing at the silly, weak stomached voyeurs while the real doctor wore her shiny white lab coat and high heeled shoes. Well she didn’t want them moaning because they’d been covered in blood and other, less appealing bodily fluids.

Hannah left the mask hanging around her neck as she stepped up to the table and glanced over it at Ward. “I’ll do more than answer them, Sir.” The ME stated as gloved hands approached the body and peeled back the layer of skin previously sliced into with the primary y-incision. From there, Hannah was able to show the department head the damage done to the inside of the body. The flesh of this young girl seemed to have been eaten away, eroding. Her organs were in a far worse state, the girl’s heart looking like it had been bitten into by hundreds of tiny ants, knawing at the outside to break through to the centre. The skin was now folded back and she carefully slipped a hand in to the girl’s abdomen to slowly pull out the young victim’s stomach.

“This young girl was tied down by her neck, wrists and ankles,” Hannah’s head nodded in the direction of each, where burn lines had torn into the victim’s skin, rubbing away at the flesh, showing evidence of a lot of struggle and pain on the girl’s behalf “and force-fed a potion which perforated the lining of her stomach” with a gloved finger, Hannah indicated the small puncture in the stomach’s lining before lowering it back into the abdomen “and began to eat into her flesh and organs. “ He didn’t need a pointed finger to see that damage.

“Blood results show she was injected with magically enhanced adrenaline to prevent passing out before this potion was forced down her throat. She was alive to feel the whole thing.” Hannah paused and frowned up at Ward. “The bizarre thing is, Mr Ward, this killer gave her an antidote after about 3 hours. It halted the process before he left her for what I’ve found to be about 22 hours before finishing the job with the Avada Kedavra.”

Hannah’s lips pursed as she looked over the body once more. After a few moments, her glass covered eyes scanned back up. “I found traces of the acidic potion in her blood but I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He watched, once again focusing solely on the body as a specimen to be studied and not a person, as she opened the y-incision that had been made earlier.  There was more damage then he had been expecting, his eyes taking in the eroding organs.  The damage had to be potion related, as no curse would inflict that sort of harm.

He nodded slightly as she went over what had happened, his eyes slowly examining the robe burns on her skin first, followed by the puncture in her stomach, and then once again scanning her flesh and organs.  He hadn’t encountered anything quite like that in his experience, although he was already starting to piece together possible combinations that could produce such damage if ingested.

“Blood results show she was injected with magically enhanced adrenaline to prevent passing out before this potion was forced down her throat. She was alive to feel the whole thing.”

He shook his head slightly, trying to not to ponder what sort of sick bastard could have done such a thing.  That meant he would have to not be completely detached from the scene before him, and he refused to allow that to happen.  He would not be analyzing why some psychopath mad the choices they did regarding the girl on the slab.  There were other more qualified people who could do that, he was merely there to help determine exactly what had been force fed to the victim.

“Is there a sample I can take for analysis?” he asked when she mentioned finding traces of whatever had been given to the girl.  “I have a few theories on what exactly that might do something like this, but I’ve not countered something this severe before.  Leads me to believe whoever did this knows a thing or two about potions and mixing highly toxic ingredients.”

“Of course,” Hannah clipped in sternly. As if she wouldn’t have a sample ready for the very moment! “I’ve run the usual preliminaries on the blood but I can only pick up on a few of the potion’s ingredients used. This mix was quite expertly brewed.” Hannah indicated the blood samples lined up in thin test tubes, some colours differing from the regular warm red it had been upon extraction. “Help yourself to the two on the left when you leave, Ward.”

But he wasn’t leaving yet. There was more to show him and to be honest, she liked the idea of the infuriating Dante Ward doing the skivvy work for her and hopefully feeling a little ill. Hannah was definitely unsure what it was, but there was something about this aggravating male that always made her very fractious. It exasperated Hannah further because she was usually an incredibly calm and reserved woman. Very little ever usually perturbed the ME, and if it did, she never showed it. And then Ward came along.

“Come a little closer, Ward. The victim’s not about to bite you. I doubt you can see from that distance.” Hannah beckoned him closer to the body with a gloved hand before running her index finger down the length of the young girl’s oesophagus. “Most erosive potions would have started at the throat, travelling down the oesophagus, meaning that there would be damage here also. Extraordinarily, there isn’t any damage until it reaches the stomach. It’s some sort of mix that is harmless until it reaches the stomach where it reacts with the acid.”

“Poor girl’s only about 18. I still haven’t got a positive ID on her. She’s muggleborn, though.” Hannah sighed as her eyes scanned over the poor girl’s body before she folded back the flap of skin and pulled the thin plastic sheet up over the girl’s legs and pelvis. I’ll get you a bone marrow sample and a liver sample, Ward. They’ll help to create more conclusive results. Could you pass those tubes and that large syringe?” She pointed across at the surface behind him and waited.

He took a breath to maintain his composer when she answered him in that stern tone as if he were one of her underlings.  No one spoke to him that way.  He was a department head, he was the one who gave orders and made decisions.  So what the hell he was doing dancing to the tune of Hannah Bombay was complete beyond him.  Still he nodded when she said he could take the two samples on the left his face not betraying his annoyance.

He moved closer to the table his voice completely flat as he answered, “Funny, Bombay.  Could we just stick to the facts of the case?  Perhaps your comedy routine is best left for later when it’s just you and your ‘patients.’”

He took a close look at what she was pointing out, and she was correct of course.  It meant a few less possible combinations, but also that they were looking for someone who knew as much about potions and brewing as him.  That much knowledge in the wrong hands could be dangerous, as evident by the young victim on the table.  Whoever had done this had certainly known exactly what they were doing.

“The way the potion reacted does limit the ingredients list a bit,” he said, continuing on with his dry, flat tone.  “I should be able to determine what was used once I can test the samples with my own equipment.”

She pointed at a syringe and he raised an eyebrow at her.  Still, turning, he grabbed it off the table.  Holding it out he replied, “Expecting me to play assistant simply because you decided to be soft and allow yours to leave early?  Really Bombay, wasn’t getting me to put on this ridiculous garment enough?”

Hannah blinked. Had she honestly just been accused of being soft? Was Ward fully aware of whom he was speaking to? Dr Bombay was not ‘soft’, she was professional. Professional people didn’t display emotions in the workplace and they certainly didn’t appear soft and sensitive. What was this? A children’s fairy tale book? Hannah thought not and the very accusation of being soft appalled Hannah.  What in Godric’s name had she said to Ward to make him come to such a preposterous conclusion? Hannah was about as soft as he was friendly. In their line of work, feelings and emotions were an unnecessary distraction.

“Allowing my assistant to go home on time is hardly ‘soft’, Mr Ward. She doesn’t get paid overtime and I don’t take advantage.” It was Hannah’s choice to stay late. It wasn’t like she had anyone to go back home to in the evenings. She’d be going home to an empty apartment and an obtrusive neighbour loudly playing the incessantly annoying piano into the early hours.

If anyone asked the Magical Examiner why she remained so late at work? She’d inform them that she was a perfectionist. Every job had to be done with precision to the absolute highest standard. Absolutely nothing could be rushed. If Hannah missed something, the wrong person could end up in Azkaban for the rest of their lives. She didn’t want that on her conscience. Unfortunately, exactitude took time. That meant the ME spent the majority of her waking hours locked away in the brightly lit laboratory. She liked it that way. It meant people kept their distance.
Most of the time.

Recently Hannah had dealt with a few who wanted to ‘get to know the woman behind the labcoat’. Auror Eleor – he seemed to think she had feelings, emotions, a personality. He would stop by, just to check she was ‘okay’, offer a bit of human contact, try and get her to show a little bit more than the professional doctor of the dead she demonstrated at work. He was only one of them. Was it so difficult to realise the sensible idea, which was best for everyone, was to leave well alone? People never learnt.

“Do you want the information of not, Mr Ward?”

He fought a smirk.  She blinked at him for a moment and he knew that he was definitely starting to get to her a bit.  Really it was just fun to see the usually stone faced Dr. Bombay crack just a little.  It wasn’t as if she was completely innocent in all of this either.  She tried to bait him every chance she got as well…turn about was fair play after all.

“I would never imply that you should take advantage,” he said.  “But, in my department on the occasions the work absolutely can not wait until tomorrow my employees are more then willing to remain and see that their responsibilities are met.”

He ran a tight ship, and he made no secret of that.  If people wanted someone who would hold their hands then they should seek a career change.  He was a supervisor, not a babysitter and he certainly cared little for fussing over things like dates.  If there was work to be done, the date could be patient for an extra hour or so.

“Do you want the information of not, Mr Ward?”

He sighed his eyes meeting hers.  Why did everything have to be such a song and dance with this woman?  He came in to get a sample, listen to her findings, and go back to his cave in the Department of Mysteries.  He didn’t come for a lesson in what it was she did day in and day out, he was well aware of what it entailed.

“Of course, Bombay,” he said, motioning to the syringe still in his hand.  “But, I am not her to play lab minion.  I completed my education while you were probably still in diapers and I don’t need further instruction.”