"That's her problem, M. Not yours. Yours is the law and only that. Don't get attached. Don't be her fucking conscience." He'd been in her place a long time ago. Roger had tried to justify and rationalise everything in the beginning and that only made it worse for him when he carried it home every night. "You have her wand, you know she is guilty. That's enough for the Wizengamot. Does the reason really matter?" To him it didn't. In Davies' mind, the woman was already to be sentenced and led to her punishment. Why waste the time in trying to find more answers?
And then another thought occurred to him. Likely just as bizarre as a purist lesbian killing her lover's ex-husband. "Do you think she even knows what she's done?" Roger turned and looked at the prisoner through the square of glass in the door. He couldn't say it definitively because each person reacted to the spell in their own special way. "Has she been Obliviated?" Only pulling her memories out and putting them in a pensieve could help prove that. Anyway, it wasn't his problem.
Roger's wide hands continued to work on Morag's neck before drifting down again to stroke along her spine, working out the tough knots. There were other, less professional ways to relax her, but not here. "Yeah, it's late." She was dismissing him. Typical Morag. "Are you saying you want me to go?" It wasn't exactly the same thing.