He didn’t like to be kept in the dark – however, he was fortunate enough to get his claws on certain files they’ve kept away and illuminate his way through the darkness of Level Two’s secrets. Some of them, at least. Was Liadan O Morain as sweet, innocent and pure of heart just like her features implied? Or was she a clever, manipulative criminal? Rosier’s head hurt from all this already – the girl was being accused of keeping dragons on her farm, which considering what happened in that wretched place in the past wasn’t as surprising. But then, why Trevelyan? Why did the ginger poke his nose in this when it wasn’t assigned to him? Rosier didn’t care however – the harassment had to stop, it was not how Level Two dealt with anyone – suspects or not.

After the obligatory morning cup of tea, Rosier re-arranged some things around his desk, attempting to make it look less messy (but failing). Books were scattered all around the place, papers covered the floor around the desk and there was spilled ink everywhere. But the office still looked dark, cold and intimidating. Rosier concluded that nothing he will ever do will make it look more inhabitable. The place was even more pretentious than the old office of that toad Dolores Umbridge! And that was hard to beat…

But there was no time for enjoying tea or cleaning the mess. It was time to face Jonas Trevelyan and speak to him about issues brought up by Miss O Morain. Rosier planned this meeting in his head, but it was bound to happen exactly the opposite of how he imagined it. Trevelyan didn’t like authority, he despised lecturing and Rosier had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t too fond of his new boss. This meeting will be just splendid.

Fixing his standard, elegant black robes a bit before leaving the office, Rosier took a deep breath. Last time he spoke to Trevelyan, the ginger Auror practically shouted in his face. But Rosier was ready to pretend that encounter never happened; he hoped this could be resolved as rationally as possible. Otherwise he will be forced to smash his tacky tea set into Trevelyan’s arrogant face.

He marched down the corridors of Level Two, taking a turn to the Auror headquarters. He successfully avoided two rather young wizards who by the looks of them wanted his autograph and a rather silly-looking witch with a dream-like expression (“Mr. Rosier, the article about you in the Witch Weekly was the best thing I’ve ever read!”).

But finally there was Trevelyan. Walking quietly on purpose, he approached the Auror’s desk and lightly tapped the wooden piece of furniture to get his attention. “Morning Trevelyan.” His eyebrows flew up and then down in a swift moment. “My office. Now,” he added coldly and without waiting for a reaction walked back the way he came from, hoping the Auror would follow.

As with everything in life, there were two ways that he could probably go about this. 

Option One, Jonas thought as he was left staring perplexedly in his new boss's wake, was to oblige whatever mood had suddenly struck the new Department Head and immediately book it to Rosier's office.  The other wizard was obviously Not Happy about something, and cooperating would be the behavioral equivalent of pulling off the bandaid quickly.  Option Two, which was immensely more personally satisfying, would be to play things the same way that he had when he'd first returned to the office and Pratt had challenged him: delay for as long as possible, drag his feet, be an arse, and make it clear that he wasn't here to get ordered about.

He sat at his desk for a moment, fingers drumming on top of the file he'd been about to open, and then gradually levered himself to his feet.  Considering what they were in the middle of -- plotting to arrest or assassinate one of the Ministry's most wanted terrorists, investigating an upstanding Hogwarts Governor, and still keeping a wary eye out for a traitor within the government -- antagonizing his new superior was likely not the smartest move.  Jonas knew what Tamis or Adon would say: keep his head down, his tongue under control, and cooperate in words, if not in actions.

Cooperating didn't mean he had to walk into this without a plan for escape, though.  Jonas grabbed his notebook and a pen (he'd finally given up on quills), and limped to the door, pausing on his path across the office only to catch Adon's inquiring eye and mouth twenty.

A lot could go wrong in twenty minutes, but it was still better than a lifetime.

It was unfortunate that Rosier hadn't even been in his position for a month and he was already taking pains to avoid the hallway that contained the Department Head's office.  By the time he reached the doorway, Jonas had tucked his pen behind his ear, notebook secured under one arm. 

"Might have to be quick," he said easily as he stepped into the Department Head's office, pulling the door shut behind him.  "I've got to chat with Catastrophes at half past."  He didn't, but the excuse of a meeting with the Department of Magical Catastrophes had yet to fail him as an excuse; no one on Level Two wanted to antagonize their downstairs neighbors any more than was strictly necessary.  If this discussion ran long enough that his partner felt like he needed to interrupt, he was certainly sharp enough to play along.

Without waiting for an invitation, Jonas started across the room, keeping his leg straight to minimize the usual limp.  He grabbed the chair in front of the Department Head's desk and pulled it out, blue eyes flickering to Rosier as he carefully lowered himself to sit. 

"Must've somehow missed the paperwork you left me about this meeting," he remarked cheerfully, dropping the notebook onto the desk in front of him.  "What did you need, boss?"

"I've got a meeting with Catastrophes at half past."

“I don’t care,” he cut him off coldly. He was obviously more important than any of Trevelyan’s real or fictional meetings.

As the door of his office closed shut, Rosier sighed and sat down waiting for his colleague to join him. He was glad he followed swiftly, but Rosier didn’t actually expect he wouldn’t. Ignoring the horrendous mess on the desk and beyond it, his eyes met Trevelyan’s equally blue eyes. He didn’t offer him tea, or a pleasant smile. Just a look of appraisal.

“Funny,” he said silently, commenting on Trevelyan’s remark about paperwork. He didn’t look like anything was funny though; the atmosphere in the office was rather unpleasant, but Rosier guessed this was something he wanted for now. Deciding to play along, he thought of how to approach the issue. He didn’t know what kind of reaction he’ll get from the Auror, but he was hoping for him to show some emotion other than fury or sarcasm.

A sly smirk appeared on Rosier’s face. “I have heard you are quite an adventurous man, Trevelyan,” he started. “There I was, thinking how I’ll have a hard time finding something in common with you, but then I found out– you and I seem to both go a little mad when a lovely lady is involved!” 'A little mad' was probably an understatement considering Rosier was a man who married and divorced four times, but it would do for now. Still smirking at the Auror, he took another breath and continued, probably more amused than he should have been.

“But I think Trevelyan, that following a lady into a dress shop is a bit too extreme, don’t you agree?” He wanted to emphasize the phrase ‘dress shop’, to make it sound a lot worse than it actually was before Jonas actually realizes what his boss is up to.

Opening a folder in front of him, he took out a picture, more like a magazine clipping and showed it lightly to the man opposite him. Liadan O Morain’s face smiled at them both from the small picture. “Ah, she is quite lovely, isn’t she? But please Trevelyan, do explain…is she really worth following into dress shops?”

Rosier was a gem.  Charming, elegant, friendly, and generally good-natured.  It was no wonder that the Prophet loved him or that he'd already won so many admirers in the office.  Flowers bloomed beneath each step when he walked; songbirds launched into flight to announce his presence; trumpets sounded and cherubs took wing, or so he probably thought.  Jonas had no doubt that the man in front of him believed most of the praises he read in the Prophet, or that he thought that half of Level Two was scurrying about, hoping for an excuse to ask for his autograph.

The New Face of Magical Law Enforcement did not look particularly idol-like at the moment though.  His expression was cold, his gaze icy, which Jonas supposed was probably supposed to be intimidating.  It probably would have been, if he hadn't gotten over that sort of thing about when the bloke who had once had Rosier's position decided that magical heritage was a good enough reason to throw a quarter of his staff into Azkaban.

True to his demonstrated mastery of good management skills and inspiring leadership, Rosier's mouth twisted into a smirk.  Jonas stayed silent, eyebrows raised and expression perfectly amiable, as the other man began to talk. 

Even after the dictum began, it was impossible to be sure where this conversation was intended to go.  'Adventurous' could mean any number of things, from his mostly unofficial snooping into random casefiles to the somewhat unofficial delving into Vedir Prideaux's history, and ending with their completely-unofficial conspiracy to find Macduff, who had taking his one-man campaign of terror to new levels of deserving damnation by murdering innocents. 

What he hadn't been expecting, though, was a lecture about Liadán Ó Móráin.

Jonas blinked, his face going momentarily impassive, as he considered the statements.  The investigation into Miss Ó Móráin was more or less completely by the book.  He'd been careful to do his homework on that one; according to Spencer and Adon's views, he'd probably forced them to do too much homework, but hopefully the research would pay off in the end.  The arrest warrant had been quietly put through.  As soon as they were ready, they could grab her.  Nothing about the case seemed anything close to 'adventurous,' save for the fact that he was entirely looking forward to trapping Ó Móráin during an interrogation.

Something else must have triggered this.  Harping on 'dress shops' likely  meant that Rosier had stumbled upon one of Ó Móráin's official complaints, though why the Department Head thought it was appropriate to bring it up out of nowhere, Jonas had absolutely no idea.  Unable to shake the uncanny feeling that he was being set up for something, he leaned back in his chair, resting his hand on top of the notebook.

"If we're going to be formal, it's Auror Trevelyan," he said cheerfully, stretching out his bad leg alongside the desk.  "And I couldn't tell you, Mr Rosier.  Reckon we could check with Witch Weekly, though.  They've probably run an article on that, yeah?" he asked, his forehead creasing.  "Ten Things That'll Tell You If She's Worth Following Into a Dress Shop?"

From the seemingly blank expression on Trevelyan’s face, Rosier guessed his colleague was more than a little confused. But how could he forget about his adventures? Soon enough however, it looked like it dawned on him. How will the Auror worm his way out of this one – Rosier could only guess, but whatever his colleague has to say in his defence, he’ll make sure to play along like he always did.

Rosier wasn’t quite sure if he should be grateful or annoyed with the way Trevelyan replied to him. He of course preferred this version of the ginger Auror than the furious, shouting one. Keeping his smirk glued to his face, Rosier listened. If the situation wasn’t so dire, he would have even laughed at the mention of the Witch Weekly. Everyone knew Rosier didn’t exactly enjoy that kind of media attention, but at least he knew how to joke about it; something told him however that his colleague wasn’t here to joke about it though.

“An excellent suggestion, Auror Trevelyan!” Rosier exclaimed, of course emphasizing the word ‘Auror’. If he wants it like this, so be it. They will just have to see how long this kind of conversation could last. “Could you be so terribly kind and lend me your copy of the magazine though. I believe it’s the one with me on the cover – you know – the “Most Desirable Ministry Employee” one?” He was still smiling and one could think he was even genuinely amused, but his cold eyes told a different story.

“And you couldn’t tell me, without consulting a magazine?” Rosier curled his lip. “Can’t deny I’m a little disappointed, Auror Trevelyan. I mean, I expected you to be an expert in this field.” Before going on he glanced over the file in front of him for a second or two. “How much time did you spend sneaking into dress shops; you should be better at this!”

“There is a fine line between investigation and harassment it seems. Do you really need me to tell you which is which, Auror Trevelyan?” This was said on a more serious note, if anything could be considered serious in this conversation any longer. To emphasize on the ‘seriousness’, Rosier got rid of the smirk as well.

Jonas's smile slowly faded as he listened to Rosier's words.  All hints of a friendly demeanor vanished, and his posture straightened, his jawline going hard and sharp as he clenched his teeth.  Since his return to the Ministry, he hadn't been the victim of a furious interrogation.  Raynor had grown frustrated with him plenty of times -- many of which he would have admitted to instigating -- but even when she lost her temper, she'd always given him a chance to explain first.

Rosier was doing none of that.  Jonas wasn't sure if the new Department Head was really that bad of a manager -- if he'd already made up his mind, already played the judge and jury -- or if he was just trying to shock him into playing it straight.  Either way, any desire to irritate Rosier vanished in an instant.  He wasn't putting up with this.  The muscles in his jaw tightened.

"But the line's not so fine between jumping to conclusions and gathering information," he fired back, voice sharpening.  "Or do you lot over in the law offices ignore that part of investigation?  We already hand it to you, case made, so you just have to clean up the language a bit, is that it?  No reason to do any proper thinking on your own?"

He clamped his mouth shut, teeth gritted, and forced himself to breath.  Blowing up at Rosier wasn't going to help the situation.  The other man was obviously trying to provoke him -- doing his best to draw out some sort of reaction.  Jonas felt frustrated, furious with being cornered, but this wasn't a conversation he could just walk out of.  Even so, like hell he was going to keep his mouth shut and let his new boss run right over him.

"If this is about O Morain's complaints, they've already been addressed," he informed the Department Head in a low, dangerous voice.  "The first happened before I was even working for Level Two, and yeah, I was being an arse.  That's not illegal.  The second was whilst I was gathering information during an investigation.  It was a public establishment," he said coolly, raising his eyebrows in challenge.  "You want to tell me where I can and can't investigate, then?  Or d'you reckon you want to lay all the cards on the table and admit you were just looking for a reason to jump down me throat?"

It was plainly obvious this was the end of their little banter. It was time to be business-like and serious, it seemed. On one hand Rosier was glad about it, but on the other he quite enjoyed cornering his colleague with witticisms. It was the only way to sort of get back at him after how the Auror treated him during their last meeting. Things however needed to be resolved and hopefully they will be before Trevelyan’s tone becomes even more argumentative and furious.

Rosier ignored his comment about how the law offices work – this was a completely different argument and it will always be there between the Aurors and the administration. The only person in this room who was jumping to conclusions however was Trevelyan, but his boss was kind enough not to mention this to him at the moment. The only thing he could do is to let him finish with his excuses and stories.

“It is really none of my business what sort of things you get up to in your private time, but unfortunately I am responsible for what you do when you’re in my employ.” Rosier cared very little about the things Trevelyan did prior to joining the Auror office – him ‘being and arse’ however was probably one of the very last things he was interested in. But at last – now Rosier had some sort of an honest answer out of his colleague. This was progress – at least he admitted he was a part of this deal.

“I’m certainly not going to tell you where you can and can’t investigate,” he started patiently, his expression now much less threatening the Trevelyan’s. “And I’m certainly not looking for an excuse to jump down your throat – why would that be in my interest?” He shrugged a bit.

“I’m just going to say how odd it is – you are working on the Runespoor case, so why bother so much with Miss O Morain?” The issue with the dragons on her property was not even Trevelyan’s case, and even if it was , it still made no sense why he followed her around and harassed her (surely he had bigger fish to fry). Rosier refused to believe this was it – there was something still hidden from him and he didn’t like it one bit. He will stop jumping at Trevelyan’s throat the moment he agrees to cooperate and see him as a superior, not someone who came to this office to cause chaos and disorder.

“The cards are on the table, Auror Trevelyan. I want the truth from you, I want to hear the reason why you followed around Miss O Morain and harassed her.” All that was said in a calm, but steel-cold manner. Rosier bit his lip and continued; “You don’t have to tell me, but then I’ll find out in some other way…but that would just be a waste of my time. You don’t want to waste my time.” This wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Jonas's teeth were gritted so tightly that he was in danger of biting off his tongue.  He sat stone-still, glaring back at the Department Head, fire burning in his gaze.  He would have liked nothing more than to continue to bite the other man's head off, to give his best impression of Adon and let loose a furious tirade before stomping off elsewhere, but the other man had dropped the act as quickly as he had.  The discussion was cold and businesslike now, turning to what was apparently the real matter at hand.

Rosier wanted answers.  On another day, with another superior, Jonas would have been perfectly willing to deliver them, but the new Department Head's twisting, roundabout way of getting at them made him want to refuse.  The manipulation felt like a dagger getting shoved in his back.  Giving in would only reinforce this as a successful management technique, which was the last thing that Jonas wanted.

But like him or not -- detest his methods or not -- Rosier was the new Department Head.  Jonas considered this thought for a long moment, the muscles in his jaw tight as he eyed the other man.  If he lied or refused to answer, Rosier would go at this with a vengeance.  After months of building their case, they were on the verge of arresting O Morain.  He couldn't afford to let the case get torn apart by a rampaging lawyer with an entitlement complex, not if he ever expected to be able to look Spencer in the eye again.

"The Robin Adani investigation."  He forced the words out, crisp and matter-of-fact, without bothering to put them in context.  This was one case that, buried in paperwork or not, Rosier couldn't have missed.  The story of the Auror whose adopted son had been kidnapped had been plastered all over the front page of the Daily Prophet, and it had deep, inextricable ties to the Office of the Department Head of Magical Law Enforcement.  After all, before her son had been taken, Aberdeen Spencer had been known for her imperioused assassination of Gawain Robards.

"The kidnappers obliviated the memories of Luke Adani and Auror Spencer," he said coolly, as if reciting the statistics for a Quidditch match between two teams that he couldn't give a damn about.  "But St. Mungo's says that the memory charm's been slipping.  Auror Spencer now recalls a young blonde woman casting the Obliviate spell."  He held Rosier's gaze warily, looking as if he half expected him to cut in and deny it.  "I'd met O Morain before whilst I was working as a private detective, and I realized she matched the description.  So I started digging around."

Finally they were getting somewhere. Rosier wasn’t sure if he should be pleased though or if he should smash his head against his desk. What he thought to be a rather insignificant incident, according to Trevelyan was something rather unpleasant and much darker than he even dared to imagine. But he listened patiently, after making a mental note that next time he wanted something from Trevelyan probably the best thing would be to just ask him straight forward...Ridiculous! He enjoyed annoying him, even a little bit.

He was well aware of the case details of the abduction of Robin Adani…or at least he thought he was. This made him furious, but what else could he do than struggle to keep that same calm and collected expression. This was Spencer’s son…Spencer who, under the Imperius Curse assassinated Gawain Robards, the man whose chair Rosier currently sat on. Gritting his teeth, he could do nothing else but follow the Auror.

Something told Rosier there was a lot more to this tale. Though temperamental, Trevelyan was not a fool – so there was no way he concluded this was O Morain’s work purely based on the fact that she’s a young blonde woman. But why would she be a part of this? She seemed so…focused on her own life, her own work. She seemed perfectly in place! Rosier was usually a good judge of character, could it be that he was wrong about her? Yes, well of course…he might have been a good judge of character, but he was utterly pathetic when it came to good looking women.

“Tell me more,” he insisted. This will not end so simply, Trevelyan will have to share everything he knows. “I refuse to believe you based all your accusations on the fact that Liadan O Morain is a young, blonde woman. Let’s hear it.” He hoped Trevelyan was wrong about this though; O Morain was a friend of Whitman, how would he take this news? And why was Trevelyan not more subtle in his investigations? Why did he attract so much attention to himself?

If he hadn't already committed to telling the new Department Head what he wanted to know, Jonas would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he nearly did.

"No, that's the only thing I'm basing the accusation on," he said, a sarcastic note creeping back into his voice.  "I was thinking of accusing Dean Bailey of masterminding the Macduff attacks next.  He's short and Irish; seems like as good a reason as any to pin him for it."

Giving a snort, he let his gaze drift past Rosier to the wall, frowning as he took a moment to gather his thoughts.  His accusations weren't quite accusations -- not yet.  He wasn't ready to say for certain that Liadan O Morain had personally kidnapped Robin Adani, even though the facts seemed to be adding up that way.  That was why he'd asked Spencer to go through the trouble of digging through her financial records, looking for something else they could pin on the woman.  With Polyjuice, the Imperius Curse, and Metamorphmagi, accusing an upstanding citizen -- especially an upstanding citizen with the money to hire a good lawyer -- of any sort of heinous crime was an uphill battle.  So far, the evidence was mostly circumstantial.  But if they never took the risk and brought her in, they'd never get anything solid.

"It just started as a hunch," he said at last, eyes flickering warily to meet Rosier's.  If his new boss wanted to bloody well know the basis for his accusations, then he could damned well listen as he spelled out the case.  "I reckoned it was a bit of a long shot when I first noted the resemblance, but the pieces started coming together.  Auror Spencer's husband, Adani, is a graphic desig-- a Muggle artist," he amended carefully.  "I had him try and use Spencer's description to sketch the woman who had obliviated them, and he started remembering what the suspect looked like, too.  Drew a pretty good likeness of O Morain all on his own, mismatched eyes and all." 

Jonas shrugged, taking a deep breath.  "So I reckoned that at the least, I had someone who had used Polyjuice potion to take on her likeness for the kidnapping," he admitted, crossing his arms against his chest.  "But it was enough to give us reason to start looking into her more.  O Morain used to visit the Black Chimera -- not a lot, but every so often, which suggests she may have had dealings with Tawse.  She was --"  He paused, glancing cautiously at Rosier again.  "It's public knowledge that for a while, she was involved with Christian Colburn," he said carefully.  That was one Level Two operation that he only knew the basics of; he didn't need to complicate this meeting by voicing any speculation about the undercover Auror trainee.  "I know Colburn's one of ours, but he's also got ties to Tawse.  If O Morain hadn't met the bloke on her own, it's easy to assume that Colburn introduced 'em."

"Started investigating her finances after that, and aside from some shady trading habits that we stumbled on to, she spent quite a bit on baby items right after the kid was taken," he went on.  "There were some rumors that she had been secretly pregnant, but as far as we can guess, she was buying for a kid who must have been a bit older.  A toy wand, toy broom, boy clothes that'd fit a toddler.  The records from the watch on the Chimera start mentioning her a bit more frequently after the first of the year, too.  Seems like she was suddenly a lot more invested in Tawse's establishment."

As far as he could prove it, those were the facts they had.  None of it might be good enough for the Wizengamot.  One of their lead suspects was a Muggle.  O Morain would certainly hire the best lawyer she could find -- and knowing that she was linked to Prideaux, who had once gotten Atalana Kanika off the hook, meant that she likely had plenty of connections to call upon.  If the young entrepreneur didn't confess on her own, they'd have an uphill battle getting the charge to stick.

But it was still a case.  There was no doubting the logic.  Jonas met Rosier's gaze across the table and held it, his jaw set.

"I wouldn't say I'm certain, boss, but I'm at 95%.  It all fits," he said, quietly yet stubbornly.  "Adani's ID of her is enough to convince me that someone matching her description was there that night.  The rest is circumstantial, but it adds up.  She had contact with Tawse.  The contact increased once the kid was grabbed, and she started buying items that appear to be for a kid of a similar size."

He gave another half-shrug, though there was no doubt or apology in the gesture.  "At least it's worth questioning her on it, yeah?"  Even though it was phrased as a question, the forceful, steely edge to his words and the hardened expression on his face made it clear that the red-headed Auror was only looking for one answer.  "If it was her and she confesses it, that's the closest link we'll have gotten to Tawse and Macduff in months."

Rosier listened patiently, not interrupting the Auror even once. Things made sense in theory – from the artist who allegedly drew someone who resembled O Morain very much, her alleged friendship with Tawse, to her buying things for a small child. But then again…the pieces somehow still didn’t add up. It seemed Trevelyan was aware of that as well – this wasn’t enough for them to arrest her, she would without question worm her way out, guilty or not guilty. But something told him that Trevelyan wasn’t so deeply convinced in this just because of all this ‘evidence’, something told him there was some personal hatred between them. However, he will not get into this.

“Unfortunately you being 95% certain is not going to be enough for the Wizengamot and you and I both know O Morain is going to arm herself with the best lawyers if you even lay a finger on her.” He knew this; the biggest mistake they could make now is to rush this – they would end up with nothing again. “The evidence you gathered might be enough for you, but it’s not enough to put her into Azkaban, especially after she says in what way you acquired most of that evidence, Auror Trevelyan.” He was not giving him a lecture, but Trevelyan should have known by now how these posh, old-school rich wizards who frown upon the Ministry would shield themselves from justice. If Trevelyan wasn’t careful he could be the one needing a lawyer soon, if Miss O Morain decides what he did was in fact harassment.

“You want to arrest her for keeping dragons on her farm and then make her talk?” Rosier remembered the arrest warrant he read last night; it would be a cunning, but dangerous way to approach this case. He wasn’t sure what to think of it – on one hand he wanted this resolved, but on the other he secretly wished Trevelyan was mistaken about Liadan O Morain. “What makes you think she would confess? She is not required to talk to us without her lawyer. How do you intend to scare her?”

The red-haired man raised his eyebrows, giving Rosier a wary look.  The off-handed comments about O Morain made him wonder again what had prompted this meeting.  Rosier was speaking as someone who was personally familiar with her, and even though the pureblood world was a small place, making a reference to 'how she says' he had acquired any evidence suggested that there had been a specific conversation.

"Whatever she says, O Morain's got no idea how I gather evidence," he said, more cautiously than irritated.  "And it's all been above board, boss.  We've been quiet, but we've gotten all the records legally.  I know what posh purebloods are like; I've been covering me bases."

He paused, pressing his mouth firmly closed as he considered the second set of questions.  But his expression was more cautiously thoughtful than frustrated now; his posture slightly more relaxed, losing some of the tension.

"Part of it's the fact that we need to take a risk," he said at last.  "This isn't a murder investigation -- it's a lost kid, and the longer we wait, the better the chances that Tawse will go to ground and we might never find 'im.  For all we know, O Morain knows exactly where he's at.  And we've been looking into O Morain since February," he added, giving the Department Head another wary look.  Rosier was, if anything, even more cautious than Jonas was, and he seemed to be treating his moment of appointment as 'Day One' for all Auror investigations.  If the older man was going to be hesitant to push forward, then Jonas needed to preempt that.  "We're not rushing into this.  Short of finding someone else who witnessed it, we've built as good a case as we're going to."

The question of how he'd convince Liadan O Morain to talk was one that he'd put some thought into.  There was always the Archer Radley method, but somehow imitating Leeroy and throwing tables around didn't really strike Jonas as his style.  In this case, it didn't feel necessary.

"I don't think we need to do anything to scare her," he said simply.  "O Morain's skittish, and she's really just a kid.  She's not a career criminal, even if she associates with them.  She's got a temper, and I've seen her let things slip when she loses her cool.  I was planning to sit her down, let her sweat for a bit, and then bring Spencer in.   Need be, reckon I can push the dragon thing and plea bargain with her.  But I really reckon that if we apply the right sort of pressure, she'll crack."

Maybe O Morain had no idea how Trevelyan gathered evidence, but what she thought of him and his investigative methods was far from positive. Legal or not, the way he treated her obviously made her complain and something told Rosier she would take it further if the investigation continues in the same manner. But he will not argue about this now when they have more pressing matters.

He agreed with Trevelyan that this needed to be resolved quickly because there was a child in danger, but there should be no place for a word like ‘risk’ here. Taking a risk also meant risking the boy’s life and even though the Auror insisted they already ‘had a case’, Rosier felt this just wasn’t enough. He thought of O Morian and how she asked him if she should be worried – if she’s under some investigation. He thought very little of it then, but even then he had a sneaking suspicion she wanted an answer from him. Could that be right, was she indeed guilty and was her little trip to the Ministry not only to act as a victim but to try and get some answers from him?

“It could work, if your theory is right and if she’ll want to negotiate with us,” he said with a sigh. Even if she was guilty, Rosier agreed that he would let her go if she told them enough valuable information. “But what if you’re wrong?” Rosier wasn’t paranoid, he just always wanted to test all the possible outcomes – something he thought Auror Trevelyan might have forgotten in this case. “What if she doesn’t crack that easily?”

Then he thought of something else she had told him during their meeting. Something that he thought he forgot, but it stayed in the back of his mind. It might be nothing…but could be worth checking. He lifted his eyebrows and gave Trevelyan a quizzical look. “Did you know that Liadan O Morain keeps very detailed journals? Might be something worth reading, no?”

The conversation had unexpectedly settled into something bordering on reasonable.  Jonas was noticing the pattern -- Rosier, probably as a result of the training he'd gotten with his legal background, fired off an incessant barrage of questions every time he made a point.  But in the case of the Department Head, questioning and doubting didn't seem to be quite the same thing.  He was feeling out the logic, looking for cracks -- just much more overtly than Jonas usually did, voicing his questions out loud rather than silently mulling them over.

And in some cases, he was assuaging them himself.  Jonas blinked at the mention of the journals, and then gave the other wizard a considering look.  Clearly, he'd been right to suppose that Rosier had some sort of inside knowledge on this situation.  At least it might prove helpful.

"Can't say I'd think much of her forethought if she records details of a kidnapping in her diary," he said, with a slight, crooked smile, "but I reckon it's a thought.  She seems like the sort to keep records on everything.  It'd be something reasonable to look into, if we haul someone in on charges of dragon trafficking," he stated nonchalantly, eyebrows raising as he glanced back at the Department Head.  "She wouldn't be happy about handing 'em over to us, though.  Might need someone to push it through the Wizengamot to get us permission to search her house."

That was as much of a bridge as he could build on this one -- inviting Rosier to help move along the investigation.  Jonas paused, studying the man across the table for a moment.  It was suddenly becoming clear why trying to deal with their new Department Head felt like negotiating in a foreign language.  Jonas had only been back for a few months now, and he'd already slipped back into the Auror Corps' way of thinking, of acting.  As he'd pointed out earlier, Rosier had never been an Auror -- just a lawyer.  The two professional cultures clearly employed different procedures, but they still shared the same desire for results.

"Look, Rosier," he began, and then stopped.  For once, he wasn't certain what exactly he wanted the other man to see.

"Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot," he said at last, feeling each word along and speaking much more slowly than his usual clip.  "I shouldn't have snapped at you, and I'm sorry for that.  I know that it can't be easy, getting thrown into the thick of this mess -- I've been back with the Corps for a few months now and I'm not supposed to be up to speed on all of it like you are, and it can still be a bit overwheming." 

He met the other man's eyes, his own gaze cautious, questioning.  "I reckon I can refrain from smart comments about lawyers and paperwork if you can trust me a bit," he offered.  "I'm not trying to bring the half the Wizengamot and the Prophet down on your head by not doing a proper job on this one.  I'd hate to see this case get mucked up as much as you would -- and I do appreciate the help."

Rosier had to admit he was slightly taken aback, but in a good way. So, he knew something the Aurors didn’t – this was a nice change considering how they started. But he was grateful it turned out this way; he never expected to come to such civil terms with Trevelyan on such short notice. He was an impulsive guy, but also very protective of his work – which was a characteristic Rosier will have to learn to appreciate more. Above all, they really needed to start trusting each other.

What was that saying ‘Good girls keep diaries…bad ones never have time’? Or they are smart enough not to keep such obvious evidence around. Well, they were about to find out what kind of girl Liadan O Morain was. It won’t be too difficult to get a search warrant in this case. He will run it through the RCMC, claiming they need to search the property because of dragons, then send in Trevelyan or someone to fetch these journals. She would not give them willingly; that much he was certain of.  He thought about it for a second then looked up to Trevelyan. “You’ll have a search warrant ready by the end of the day.” He wanted this over and done with and he knew this was the Auror’s wish as well – after all he was the one for immediate action. This was as immediate as Rosier would dare at the moment.

And then something rather unexpected happened. Trevelyan apologized. Rosier raised his eyebrows as the Auror kept on talking. Suddenly he felt relieved; he knew he shouldn’t because nothing was resolved yet, but this gave him some…hope. It was like a sign that not everything will be as grim as he imagined; maybe he will not need to fight a war with his employees after all. But this was only one of them, and even though he didn’t exactly pledge his allegiance to Team Rosier, he was extremely grateful for this. “Thank you, Trevelyan. It means a lot to me,” he said calmly, without any trace of smugness or his usual stern demeanour.

“Keep the smart comments  - I like those,” he smiled a bit, probably for the first time in Trevelyan’s presence. “And I think we need to learn how to trust each other. I know I’m not the person you or any of your colleagues would have picked for this job, but we all want the same thing in the end. The enemy is out there – not in this….exquisite office.” Still smiling, he glanced around his office – one was clear – he hardly thought this place was exquisite.