WHO: Demeter Wiggleswade & her mother WHAT: What’s next. WHEN: 2nd June WHERE: Knockturn Alley WARNINGS: None!
As each case closed, there were less suspects on the list. Less that were readily available, too, with a few names of interest also having been noted as reported missing in the days since the Battle of Hogwarts. Demeter was working as hard as possible to ensure that there wasn’t going to be another surprise like the MacDougal girl, trying as much as possible to prevent it. They had to work in a different way now, and not just because of the lack of technology. Working with quills and parchment again would only be a hindrance if she let it. Working in the same office that now held so many difficult memories was enough to give her pause before she ignored her feelings and fears. Working without people she trusted like Divya — that was more difficult to get over.
And so she just worked, concerning herself with the job. She ticked names off a list as people in the department made more arrests or cleared names; she had some modicum of pride for her part in Avery, complicated sympathy for her best friend when she marked off Rosier as arrested, happiness for her coworkers whenever a job was well-done.
In private, sorting out a few things. Her mother had left, gone back to work after St. Mungo’s had ruled her dismissal unfair and paid her a generous amount of lost wages from the months she’d been out of work. Demeter had her privacy back, but it hadn’t stopped her from looking to move on from the place. At least, seeking a buyer for the flat turned into seeking a sublet for an undetermined amount of time. The letter requesting a return to assignments abroad went unsent, but it was ready for the moment that Demeter thought that list had become short enough. She had her privacy, but once again she craved anonymity and the promise of it loomed in her future.
She closed the door behind one of the prospective subletters, the only one to be shown the apartment that day. Demeter had been late to the appointment, but everything seemed to have gone well. Having few sentimental attachments to the place meant that it’d be easier to say goodbye when that time came.
“Well?”
Demeter turned to smile at her mother, lingering in a doorway. “Thanks for covering for me. I got held up at—”
“At work, yes,” her mother finished her sentence. Their eyes met, recognising that mutual need to continue working even past the time they were off the clock.
“Remember when you got stabbed here?” Demeter asked, a smile playing about her lips as if the memory were somehow quaint rather than painful. “And you drank up all my whisky and gave me a talk about having confidence in myself and how it wasn’t my fault, rather than going to the hospital like a normal person.”
“Thinking of that, I really can’t wait to see the back of this place.” Her mother confessed.
“Me neither.” The two glanced at one another and smiled. Demeter already felt restless, ready to give in that request and be somewhere else entirely.
“So will you be leaving soon?”
Demeter considered the question, not knowing exactly what the answer was. Her urge to run away was always present, her ambition to do more and learn more and be better was strong. But common sense and the need to stay and finish the task at hand seemed to be the prevailing idea at present. Her own wishes could wait, and for once it seemed like it wouldn’t be for long.