Edgar has retired his stilettos. FOR NOW. (goodoldbones) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-11-16 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | edgar bones, frank longbottom |
16 November 1979
Who: Ed Bones & Frank Longbottom
What: Ed's back to work, and he and Frank pick up where they left off investigating the possibility of Barty Crouch Jr being the Ministry's leak.
When: Monday morning
Where: Ed's office, Auror department, the DMLE
Rating: PG-13. Tut, tut.
Status: Completed log!
They'd manage to work out a rough timeline of Barty Junior's activities on the day of Gavin Avery's death. Edgar didn't remember seeing the kid at all, but from Isis Hargrove to Junior vomiting for the rest of the afternoon in the loos following Avery's murder, a hell of a lot of people had. And then not one bloody person had for a two, solid, 20 minute chunks, first while paperwork was getting shuffled around, then again around the time of death. Ed and Frank were sitting in the formers office, going over, once again, the nonsensical bullshit that was at the core of the god damn investigation. "Right," Ed was saying, shaking his head. "Coffee. Disappears. No one in Magical Hazards sees hide nor hair of the kid until about 20 minutes later. He comes back to the office, distributes said coffee, wanders around aimlessly just to make himself visible for what I can tell, then off he goes again. Then Avery's dead. Then Junior upchucking his innards all over the loo for the majority of the afternoon." "And meanwhile we've got Avery bleeding all over the place and guards who seem more confused than anything else," Frank sighed, one of his hands coming up to run through his hair. His hand stopped in a fist at the back of his head, his gaze not really looking at anything in particular as he thought it through. They had been thinking it through for what felt like forever, though, and he was ready to say fuck all and just grab Crouch Junior and toss him into a cell. "Yeah, that's another thing. What the fuck is the point of slashing the guy across the face after doing him in? That just seems personal to me. I have no fucking clue if Junior and Avery ran in similar circles." I suppose I could find out, he thought to himself, thinking of Regulus Black. He didn't want to push the young man with questions like that, not yet, not after he'd only just agreed to play the spy. "I'm think that the guards had their memories screwed around with. And I'm not one lick sure about this first block of disappearing, before he came back to the DMLE with coffee. We know it's likely he took polyjuice there, but why? Was he scoping out the area? Did he lock one of the cell guards in a closet somewhere?" "Or was he just trying to get himself seen?" Frank replied, furrowing her brow before shaking his head. It had to have been more than just that. He brought his thumb up to his mouth and began to gnaw gently on his nail as he thought aloud. "Or maybe you're more onto something with the last bit. He had to get someone's hair if he was polyjuicing himself and he sure as hell couldn't let the lot of them remember that he was doing any of it." "We should question the guards further, in that case," Ed replied, picking up the original casefile that outlined the initial questioning of the guards who'd been guarding Avery. "This is just a clusterfuck of information right here. Nothing adds up, or makes sense. They all seemed 'disoriented and lost' and 'seemed to have lost memories of the entire day'. We know that someone had to fuck with those guys to get in there and kill the kid. So say he scouts the area and where Avery is, and who is passing by on what basis, that kind of thing. He knocks out Guard Number One, steals some hairs, takes the first dose of polyjuice and just hangs out for a bit. He comes back to the floor as Barty Junior. He gets the go ahead on axing Avery, turns into Guard Number One again, and then does the job. After a fourth go at the polyjuice, his insides scream 'what the bloody hell are you doing to me' and that's that." "Sounds logical, but now we have to get someone to remember it," Frank sighed, leaning back in the chair. Both of his hands came behind his head as he thought about it, his gaze locking on the wall just over Edgar's shoulder. As he churned it over in his mind, a thought occurred to him and he glanced back at Edgar. "And, y'know, the only time I've ever seen someone attack someone like that after they're already dead is if they've got some kind of grudge. I don't think this was just him being pissed the fuck off because he blabbed to his sister. There's more to it than that." Edgar considered it. It was certainly a possibility, but what would the grudge be? If Crouch Junior was responsible (and it sure as hell seemed like he was, even if they were still missing a few puzzle pieces), then what could the kid hold against a guy who seemed to enjoy eating death on the same level, least minus the not being able to keep his mouth shut. "Well. If we're speculating, I suppose there's always the possibility of the death eater ranks being competitive. Maybe they were up against one another in some way?" "I could see that," Frank nodded thoughtfully. It would make sense if they had some kind of level. "It would keep some sort of competition alive among the lot of them. Besides, that whole damn society is all about class systems and respecting your elders and the people with more money than you and purer blood..." He'd feel like he should apologize for generalizing it like that if he didn't come right from it himself. "They're probably always fighting for being You-Know-Who's favorite." "Well, least fighting over who gets to think that they are. Psychopaths don't amass armies of people they're going to regret losing. I think that death eaters are all probably dispensable, even if they are all upper-class with superiority complexes," Ed mused. "An actual ranking system, perhaps. Training. Levels. Merit badges. Whatever. Maybe Avery was getting a few extra brownie points for being Xavier's kiddo? Crouch Junior doesn't have a death eating daddy to answer to." "True," Frank replied. "And, you know, if they follow through like how they always do, I'll bet Avery got away with all sorts of shite for being the heir. Or at least it was easier to smooth things over. This time was probably just a step too far. Not only did he tell his sister, but he told his sister who happened to be married to a Muggleborn. Seems like he'd be throwing away a sure thing, if you ask me." "Right, right, so Junior had to work a little harder to be given 'respect' or whatever it is they trade in," Edgar said tiredly. "Avery fucks up a guarantee when Junior been working his arse off to be Super Death Eater, and takes that rage out on Avery's face. Okay. So we've got motive for that, anyway. Now we just need something a little more concrete. Chat with the guards, see if the kid's obliviating was sloppily. Too much of one thing, not enough of something else?" "Sounds like a good idea," Frank agreed with a nod. "Maybe we could get them looked at by an Obliviator? Check if there's anything there to be recovered. They're already acting like there's something there that needs to be tapped into, so he might have been in a hurry. He'd had to have been on a time frame." "Probably for the best. Should've been done in the first place, really, but Circe knows that nothing was done properly after we found Avery's body," Edgar said with a cluck of his tongue. "If we can get something from the guards, it might be enough to warrant an arrest, and an interrogation at the least. I think we'd have to attach Barty Senior to a wall while it's happening, else he's likely to kill me, you and his kid all in one go of it. And we're going to need him to sign off on us using truth serum to drain this kid of everything he knows." "Ah, yeah." Frank breathed out a sigh, not really having thought of that just yet. He really didn't want to actually see Crouch Senior's face when this was brought to his attention seeing as the one he was imagining in his mind's eye was scary as fuck as it was. Frank leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he shrugged that one off. "I reckon he'll have to see reason with this one and not give us a public lynching. I mean, fuck. Especially if we can get something useful out of the guards." "I can't imagine..." and Edgar really couldn't. The idea of one of his boys doing something like this was absolutely terrifying. They could joke about Junior not getting enough hugs all they wanted, but it couldn't change the fact that, really, something had to push such a bright, intelligent man with a Ministry man for a father to leak the DMLE's information to the likes of Death Eaters. "I don't even want to imagine having to deal with finding out that your kid has been selling you and yours out to a dark wizard intent on destroying the moral fabric of society." He shook his head. Enough of that. "All right, Longbottom. I'm going to send out some memos and get a meeting with these guards tomorrow or Wednesday. I'll get an obliviator in the office and work out the arseloads of paperwork since I'm stuck here. Go run and tackle somebody. Or give Sturgis a tail or something." |