|adam cautions against the ides of march. (disinterested) wrote in an_ill_wind,|
@ 2009-07-08 23:06:00
|Entry tags:||- 1980/07 july, adam williamson, hestia jones|
Who: Hestia Jones and Adam Williamson
When: 08 July, 1980; evening, directly after this.
Where: The Ministry of Magic
What: Adam's breaking some bad news.
Status: Completed log!
Adam was definitely not remotely pleased with how things were going this week. Except for his son's birthday it had been bad news after bad news and tonight was absolutely no better. Finding Michael Jones, certainly someone he saw from time to time though not particularly close to, was not how he'd anticipated his night shift going. Nor breaking the news to the family. This was not the part of his job that he was most adept at, but he prepared himself to be as patient as he could. It wasn't his strong point.
And so, he made his way to the Atrium, hoping that anyone else on duty would do their damn job and that his alert in the journals would bring some people in. Merlin, this was such a bloody joke. Twice in a week and a half.
Hestia was trembling. She had to calm herself and focus on breathing so she could apparate back to the Ministry without splinching herself. She'd been fighting the feeling that something was wrong since she came home from work without her father. And for Mr. Williamson to ask her to come back in, after she'd only asked him to check her father's office... she couldn't help but feel that something was terribly wrong.
She arrived in the Atrium with a soft pop, and looked around for the Auror. Her desire to act professionally around her fellow Ministry workers, especially one that had been here so long, helped her to keep somewhat calm. "Mr. Williamson?" she managed in a level voice. She couldn't frame another question. She reminded herself to breathe, that it would be over momentarily.
"Yes," he admitted, taking a few steps toward her. "If you'll just come with me, Ms Jones," Adam motioned curtly. He was stony faced, as was not particularly unfamiliar with him, but certainly at this time of night and given the current circumstance, was not a good sign. He led her into the lifts and down to the second floor, silent. It was simply good fortune that they hadn't run into the medi-wizards on the way. That certainly would have made this whole issue rather more messy than it needed to be.
He led her into the break room and shut the door behind them, if only so they could have a moment of privacy. "Ms Jones, when was the last time you saw your father today?" he asked, trying supremely hard not to be rude. After all, a man was dead.
Hestia was silent the entire walk, and the ride in the lifts. Unusual, perhaps, for her, but her mind was racing a mile a minute, and there was a lump in her throat. She didn't much care to be her usual self at this particular moment, anyhow. Something was wrong, and she simply wanted to find out what it was so they could move past that.
She ran through the day's events in her mind, double checking what she was already certain was the truth. "We sat together at lunch. Between noon and one." She knew he had brought her to the break room in the DMLE. But why here? Hestia suppressed a shudder and licked her lips. "Mr. Williamson, what is going on?" she inquired, her voice trembling at the end. She hated being kept in the dark, especially since this concerned her father.
Adam wasn't a particularly fidgety person. In fact, he rather prided himself on the fact of his control of himself. But at the question - and the tremble in her voice, that he noted in a very auror compartment of his mind - made him shift ever so slightly.
"Hestia," he started softly, using the familiar to at least make this slightly less impersonal. "I'm afraid your father has been murdered. The medi-wizards are on their way." If they weren't here already. And if they weren't, they were damn incompetent and St Mungo's had woefully low standards.
"W-what?" Hestia responded softly, her mind refusing to process the words he had just spoken. They twisted around in her brain, but she couldn't seem to make proper sense of them. It was illogical. Who would murder Michael Jones? Why? He was a good man, he didn't have any enemies, how could this have happened? "He--I--you're sure?" she stammered, brushing away the tears that had already fallen. She hadn't even realized she was crying. The full realization hadn't hit her yet.
Adam absently conjured a handkerchief, squashing his immediate annoyance at being asked to repeat himself. Of course he was sure, he'd found him. Again though, he reigned himself back in and simply responded as carefully as he could. "I'm very sorry." He was trying to sound sorry. Really.
"In any case, I can contact the rest of your family for you, if you'd like. You should go with the medi-wizards to St Mungo's." To identify the body.
Hestia grabbed the handkerchief, drying her eyes as best she could. She was barely listening to what he was saying. She turned the words over in her mind, again and again. I'm afraid your father has been murdered. This was unreal. It couldn't be happening. War or not, her family was not involved. His offer to contact the rest of the family brought her sharply back to reality.
"No. No, I should tell mum," she asserted, her voice no longer trembling, but still far from her chipper self. She couldn't let her mother hear the news alone. And she didn't want to go to St. Mungo's alone. She wanted her mother to be by her side. They'd have to go through this together. A thought occurred to her, one she didn't want to bear in mind, but she couldn't resist asking the question. "Was it Death Eaters?" Some of the tremble was back in her voice, and a hint of tears still to come. Who else could be responsible for a murder inside the Ministry?
A flicker of darkness passed over Adam's face. His immediate reaction was Obviously, but he couldn't say that to her. His own gut feeling meant nothing if there wasn't any evidence to back it up. This was a fresh case and everything was still unknown.
"There was no Dark Mark," he responded calmly. "We do not have a notion of who committed the crime as of yet. All in due time."
He opened the door. "I will be in contact within the next couple of days. Do get in touch with me if you think of anyone with a motive. I can escort you back to the Atrium if you wish." It was about as kind of an offer as he had right now. He supposed someone should not be alone after receiving the news of a death in the family. Particularly when they'd had lunch earlier that afternoon.
Hestia nodded absently. A part of her wanted to walk back alone, to absorb what he said. But she realized, on some subconscious level, that his presence was one of the only things keeping her from dissolving in tears right that moment. She said nothing as they walked back to the lifts and into the Atrium. There really wasn't anything more that needed to be said, no questions he could answer until they'd had time to investigate.
She stopped, preparing to clear her mind so she could apparate home. It would probably be the last time she would attempt such a thing tonight, if not for a few days. "Thank you," Hestia said softly. She wasn't entirely sure what she was thanking him for, but she needed to say it. Merlin only knew how many times she'd have to say those words in the near future, in return for condolences and the like.