Chapter Eight
They arrived at the Ministry using the Floo in Professor Dumbledore's office and quickly made their way to Level Two. As they walked, Frank grew more and more anxious: maybe he was imagining it, but it felt like something was already wrong at the Ministry. He dreaded being too late to stop it.
They practically burst into the Auror department only to stop short in their tracks. At any given point, half the Aurors were out on assignment, but now it appeared completely empty. Glancing around, Frank finally noticed several people standing around the Head Auror's office in the back. And then he knew for sure that they were too late.
"What has happened?" demanded Professor Dumbledore as they hurried up to the small group, who were murmuring amongst themselves.
"Robertson collapsed," replied Kingsley Shacklebolt, sounding bleak. "He was taken to St. Mungo's half an hour ago."
"Head Auror Robertson is dead," said a voice behind them. There was a gasp as they all turned to find Alastor Moody standing there, a grim look on his face. "He died twenty minutes ago. Get back to work, everyone, because I want to know exactly how this could happen."
Moody turned to where they stood with Dumbledore. "I'm assuming that's why you're here, so I'll start with you." He led the way into Robertson's office, which seemed slightly morbid, but they followed him and stood stiffly behind Dumbledore; Frank felt like they were out of place.
"I'd say he was poisoned, Albus," said Moody as soon as the door had shut behind them. "Kingsley said that Robertson just seized up without any warning. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed, stiff as a board. The Healers said his heart probably gave out."
"It doesn't sound like a heart attack," said Dumbledore, frowning.
"No, it doesn't. He actually broke his arm, he was so tense. What do you think? And why did you show up at just the right time?"
Dumbledore glanced at Frank and Alice before bringing Moody up to date on everything that had happened in Hogsmeade, as well as the conclusions they had come to at Hogwarts. Moody listened closely, arms crossed tightly over his chest, head down as if he was thinking hard.
"Lunar belladonna?" he asked. "I haven't seen that in years. It fits, though."
"And Walcott MacNair could have procured and produced it," said Dumbledore. "He is also entirely capable of brewing such a potion."
"Of course he is," said Moody with a snort. "People still talk about some of the things he brewed, three decades later. The question is, how did he get it to Robertson if Longbottom here lost the envelope?"
Frank glanced at Alice, but she was looking down and wouldn't meet his eyes. He hoped she was all right: between being hit in Hogsmeade and the accusations against Dawlish, she looked pale and upset. He certainly was, and he was supposed to be the experienced one.
"We suspect that someone in the Ministry took it from the lab," said Dumbledore. "And seeing as it has now been used against Head Auror Robertson, there is a strong possibility that it was someone within the Auror office who knew about the envelope."
Alice's head whipped up. "No!" she said. "It wasn't him. He wouldn't do it something like this."
"Who?" snapped Moody. "Let's hear it."
Dumbledore inclined his head, and Frank stepped forward to spare Alice having to say anything. "John Dawlish knew about the envelope I'd taken, sir. He was here the day I brought it in and has met with Robertson several times over the last month. He's been a bit…off since the attack on Lupin."
Moody narrowed his eyes as if trying to determine the worth of Frank's words. Frank wished he hadn't had to say anything and could feel Alice glaring at him. He felt awful: he knew she was friends with Dawlish, how could he do that to her? To John? And yet, it was possible: Dawlish had been alone outside Lupin's house when he had been attacked, so he could have been Imperiused…
"Wait here," said Moody, and he stomped out the door. Frank could sense his partner's fear and anger and actually stepped away, feeling wretched. Between this and kissing her, he was quite sure it was over: she'd never want to work with him, let alone see him again, in spite of what she had said in the corridor before they had left Hogwarts. He had thought he had lost her in Hogsmeade; he was almost certain he had lost her now, though in a very different way.
"Ms. Hamilton," said Dumbledore softly. "If your friend is indeed involved, I am sure there will be an explanation. I remember John Dawlish as a strong, reliable student. He would never do such a thing under his own accord."
She nodded stiffly, but had no time to reply as Moody returned quickly, pushing Dawlish in front of him.
"If it was him, he's a damn fool for sticking around the scene of the crime," Moody growled. He almost threw Dawlish into a chair.
"What crime?" asked Dawlish, looking tired and confused. Frank felt bad for the man, he really did. Dawlish had had a rough time as an Auror, from his first year of training to his first year of duty, and now he was about to be accused of murder.
"Head Auror Robertson was poisoned," Moody began bluntly. "Know anything about it?"
John blanched and twitched his head. Frank exchanged a look with Dumbledore: the man could be fighting an Imperius Curse, or he could be trying to hide something on his own. Either way, he did not look good at all as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.
"Speak up, Dawlish," Moody snapped. "You’re a suspect in this investigation, and staying quiet won't help you."
"Suspect?" John said, eyes wide as he glanced at each of them in turn. "Why am I a suspect?"
Moody motioned to Frank, who held back a sigh as he stepped forward. He didn't want to be the one to do this. Alice was still pointedly ignoring him, and even though he knew it was his job as the senior partner, he didn't want to upset her any more. He decided to approach the situation differently than he normally would, though a small part of him doubted whether it was right. He had to, though, for her--for all of them.
"I brought in an envelope the day after John Lupin was killed," he started, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of Dawlish with his elbows on his knees. "You're one of the few people who knew about it--Alice told you that night in St. Mungo's. Do you remember?"
Dawlish stared at him. "Do I remember Lupin or the envelope? Of course I remember Lupin…" He trailed off, his eyes haunted.
Frank nodded sympathetically. He was glad that Gawain wasn't there breathing down his neck; Moody was bad enough. "Do you remember the envelope? Or Alice telling you about it?"
"I remember her mentioning some evidence, yes," Dawlish replied slowly, as if he were struggling to recall it clearly. "But I didn't take it, if that's what you're thinking."
"I brought it to the Potions lab," Frank continued, still keeping his voice calm and level. "The next day it was gone, and they didn't even remember me bringing it in. You were here that day."
"And you think I took it just because I knew about it and was in the office at the time?" Dawlish shook his head, still confused. Frank was glad the man wasn't getting defensive, because that would just make it harder to question him in front of Alice. On the other hand, it seemed odd that Dawlish wasn't more upset. He was just confused…which made it more likely he had been Imperiused, if he was responsible at all.
"We think it's possible," Frank said softly, wishing the others would just disappear. He could almost feel Moody's disapproval at his easygoing technique; normally he would grind a suspect down much harder. Yet this was a fellow Auror, someone Alice cared about…so he went with his instincts, telling him to keep going the way he was and not push too hard.
"But anyone in the Potions lab could have taken it," Dawlish protested. He rubbed at his eyes. "I was so out of it after the hit on Lupin, I could barely get up in the morning and get here, let alone steal something under Ministry eyes and Obliviate anyone involved."
Frank glanced up sharply at Alice at the mention of a Memory Charm. She bit her lip and finally met his eyes with a sad nod. He felt even worse now--for both of them. Moody, however, was not known for such sentiments.
"Get on with it, Longbottom," he ordered.
"John," Frank said. "What do you remember about the night Lupin was killed? When you were attacked outside?"
"I don't remember much," he replied. "I was Stunned and hit my head on a rock. When I went back in, I found Gawain with Lupin."
"But did anything happen before that?" Frank pressed. "Did you see anything, feel anything, talk to anyone?"
Dawlish stared at him, and as the realization began to sink in, he shook his head, once again with that strange twitch Frank had seen earlier. "You think I was Imperiused," he stated flatly. "To steal the powder. To poison Robertson."
Alice sucked in a breath behind him; next to him, Frank could see Moody nodding as if casting judgment already. "How'd you know it was a powder, John?" Alice asked, coming to stand on the other side of Frank. "I didn't tell you that, because I didn't even know it at the time."
"You said it was powder, just now," John stuttered, but it was clear he was confused, because he was shaking his head, his hands working nervously. "You must have."
"You've been compromised," Moody growled.
"No!" John exclaimed, jumping up. "I wasn't Imperiused. I can't have been…I passed that in training…" He trailed off, looking from one face to another. "Oh no…no..."
Frank sighed, dropping his head as an empty silence filled the room.
"There is one way to know," said Professor Dumbledore, sounding both understanding but firm. "Your conscious mind may not remember your actions under the curse, but a dose of Veritaserum would allow your unconscious mind to speak more freely."
Frank glanced at him in surprise; even more startling, Alice was nodding her head in agreement. John looked at her askance.
"You really think I could have done this?" he asked her. "But I don't remember anything, nothing…how could I have done something I don't remember?"
"You were hurt," she said gently. "That night, outside of Lupin's. If they cast the curse while you were down, you would have had no way to resist. It's not your fault, John." "Should I take the potion?" he whispered, and Frank felt his gut twist at having to do such a thing to a fellow Auror. No amount of training had prepared him for that; he had only used it once on a prisoner.
"Yes, John," said Alice. "You should. Clear this up. Help us find who's really responsible. Who killed Robertson."
"Who's really responsible…" Dawlish murmured. He blew out a long breath and sat back down, his voice flat but resolved. "Fine. Do it."
Frank started toward the door to get the required potion, which was kept under lock and key with Requisitions at all times. Moody stopped him. "I've got some already, Longbottom. You just keep on him, you're doing a good job."
Frank glanced between Moody and Dumbledore, seriously doubting the truth of those words. Yet when Alice gave him a tiny nod and a small but supportive smile, he turned back and took the vial from Moody.
John Dawlish met his eyes without flinching and without accusation; Frank admired the man for that. He considered offering John the vial, to take it himself, but with Moody watching, he knew he couldn't risk it. So he reluctantly but resolutely took his colleague’s chin and poured in three drops himself, then waited for it to take effect.
"What is your name?" Frank began.
"John Alan Dawlish."
"Where do you work?"
"The Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Office, cubicle six."
"And who is your partner?"
"Gawain Robards."
Three questions to establish truth. Frank swallowed, put the others in the office from his mind, and continued.
"Did you steal an envelope from the Potions lab on Monday, June 22nd?"
"Yes."
"What did it contain?"
"A single vial of Moonbane potion."
"Did you use this potion to poison Head Auror Robertson?" "Yes."
He could hear Alice gasp behind him and felt his gut twist again at having to do this to them both. It suddenly occurred to him that part of this was his fault: he had taken the envelope, bringing it to the Ministry for Dawlish to steal and use on Robertson. In some ways, he was just as guilty as Dawlish. He tried to focus on his suspect rather than his own conflicting feelings. "Why?"
John stared at him blankly. "I was ordered to do so."
"By whom?"
John hesitated. He twitched, as if trying to remember. "I don't know," he replied, and he sounded unsettled. "I had never seen her before."
"What did she look like?" Frank asked.
"She was short. She had long dark hair. An exotic face. A scar above her eye."
Moody snorted. "Elena Rosier. I gave her that, and her brother a matching one."
"When did she tell you to steal the envelope?"
"The night I was in St. Mungo's," Dawlish replied. "She came to me while I was asleep. She told me she was a Healer and was checking my injury."
"What else did she say?"
"She told me to get the envelope back from the Auror who stole it. There was an important vial in it she needed." John appeared in a trance, still twitching every so often, as the Verisaterum fought against the curse within him.
"Did she tell you what it was for?" Frank asked. "Or what to do with it?" Dawlish may have stolen the powder under the Imperius Curse, but if he had used it on his own, his case was lost.
"It was supposed to go to Borman Wilkes, but then an Auror took it. When I brought it to her, she was pleased at how much there was. She gave me half and told me I should give it to Head Auror Robertson. Four doses, one each week. She said he would be dead by the full moon."
"Which is tonight," Alice murmured. "And he's dead."
"Did she say what she was using the rest for?" interrupted Moody, stepping forward. John glanced up at him and shook his head.
"No," he replied. "She told me to take care of my business only. She had another target in mind."
"Who?" snapped Moody. "And what were they planning with the Head Auror out of the way?"
John's head twitched once more. "I don't know," he said. "She didn't tell me. Please, I don't know anything else. It hurts."
Frank gave Dumbledore an almost desperate look: either John was resisting the potion easier than the Imperius Curse, or the Veritaserum was wearing off as it came into conflict with the curse. Dumbledore nodded. "I think we have enough from him, Alastor. We can figure the rest out on our own."
Moody snorted and turned away. Dumbledore motioned to Frank to finish. Frank took a deep breath.
"John, is there anything else you can tell us, anything at all?" he asked softly, leaning toward him to reestablish trust and offer sympathy. "Something that will help us find the other victim?"
John shook his head. The clear look in his eyes told Frank the Veritaserum had worn off, and John's tone of voice all but confirmed it. "No, I don't know anything else. Frank, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen--you have to believe me."
Frank patted him on the knee. "I believe you, John. And it's not your fault. The Veritaserum has gone, but now you have to break the curse, if it isn't broken already as well. Do you remember how to do that?"
John nodded. "Yes."
"It'll be deep, because even with your training you didn't recognize it. That was probably the head injury." Frank swallowed; it was frightening to think that for all their training, they were still vulnerable. It also meant Elena Rosier was alarmingly good at putting people under the Imperius Curse.
"I still should have caught it, felt it," said John, hanging his head. "I've had headaches, but I just thought was from the attack."
Alice kneeled down in front of him. "No, it's not your fault," she said once more. "And you've helped us tremendously."
"I killed Robertson," he said, his voice so quiet they could hardly hear him. Frank felt his chest knot up with guilt: he had been the one to bring the potion into the office, forcing Dawlish to steal it back and setting in motion the plan that lead to Robertson's murder. And yet again he was flooded with relief that he and Alice had escaped the dire fate Dawlish and Robards had met that night at Lupin's, and it only intensified his guilt even more.
"The potion killed him," said Albus Dumbledore, standing behind them. "And you were ordered to use it through no fault of your own. You will not be held accountable."
"I'm still going to have to lock him up for a few days, Albus, " said Moody. "Until this blows over. Probably safer for him, too."
John glanced up, his face broken, and nodded sadly. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and grew very still. Aurors were rigorously trained in the use of Unforgivables during their three years of training: how to recognize them, how to use them, how to block them. While there was no way stop a Killing Curse, there were ways to block the Cruciatus Curse and throw off an Imperius Curse. The latter required going into an almost meditative state to recognize the different thought patterns that signaled one wasn't completely controlling their own mind. And then it required a great strength of will to break the compulsion to obey that was magicked into their brain by the spell.
Frank watched John struggle with this. It must have been a masterful job, with the curse hidden beneath the effects of his head injury and several layers of guilt and grief over the attack on Lupin. It was no wonder Dawlish had struggled over the past month. Now he fought even more, breaking out in a sweat, his lips drawn into a tight line. His neck twisted at such an odd angle Frank thought it would snap, but finally John fell forward, pale and limp.
Alice reached out to catch him, and Frank could see the tears in her eyes. "Gone?" she asked.
John nodded, obviously exhausted. "I don't know if I ever would have really recognized it, if you hadn't figured it out. Thank you." He stood unsteadily and shook Frank's hand. "I'm sorry you had to do that, Longbottom."
Frank took it, also feeling somewhat shaky. "Not quite Gobstones, that's for sure," he said, hoping to diffuse the tension. Alice gave him a funny look, but Dawlish nodded with a small smile.
"You can beat me at Gobstones anytime if I never have to go through that again." He turned to Moody. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm ready now."
Moody appeared slightly taken aback at the young Auror's strength and resolve. He nodded gruffly and motioned toward the door. "I won't bind you, Dawlish, but I've got to bring you in. Just a formality, you know. You'll likely be cleared in a day or two. We all witnessed it."
"I understand," replied Dawlish sadly. "I wish I could help with whatever else is going on, but I think I've caused enough trouble."
Alice stood and threw her arms around him; Frank couldn't help but look away, for too many reasons, most of them confusing. "You'll be fine now. I'll check in on you."
Dawlish returned her embrace before heading out the door with Moody. Dumbledore turned to where Frank stood with Alice, watching the two Aurors leave.
"You have both done well," said Dumbledore. "I must go, however. I need to speak with Barty Crouch and the Minister about what has happened."
Frank nodded numbly. The last few hours were suddenly starting to catch up to him: the attack, the hospital wing, Robertson's death, Dawlish's questioning. Instead of collapsing in a chair, he found himself beginning to pace, his mind racing as he felt the beginning of a raging headache. Alice answered for them.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Professor Dumbledore nodded and headed toward the door. He paused and placed his hand on Frank's shoulder, stopping him before he turned to continue pacing the small office.
"You should sit and relax for a few moments, Frank," he said. "It is not over yet. There is more going on here than what we have uncovered so far."
Frank nodded. "I know."
Dumbledore glanced at Alice and lowered his voice. "I suspect you may wish to discuss what has happened with your partner. You work far too well together to let anything get in the way of your relationship."
He turned and left the office, shutting the door behind him, and Frank watched him go, wondering what his former headmaster was referring to. His working relationship with Alice would certainly change after what had happened in the hospital wing, yet his personal relationship with her seemed doomed after what he had just done to John Dawlish.
Frank let his head fall against his chest before he began pacing once more. Only one thing was certain: it wasn't over yet.
* * *
Love and Order by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: All hail the almighty KaraleyDargen who beat this chapter into submission with incredible strength and power. Any mistakes are my own and I'm sure I'll be tweaking them forever.
Also, the white box is for reviews - what did you think of it? I've never given anyone Veritaserum before...
Thank you for reading and reviewing!