Conspiracy [Eden/Rowena]

[Sabrina Wells]

In the back corner of the Leaky Cauldron a frazzled woman sat in a round corner booth, scraps of parchment fanned out in front of her with a notebook stacked on top. It was clear she had set up camp for some time, using the pub as an office and ordering butterbeer after butterbeer to keep the employees’ irritation with her at bay. Sabrina had two offices: one at the Ministry designated for Wizengamot reporters and another desk at the Daily Prophet. Those places were for her press projects: this was starting to feel personal.

Sabrina’s search into Max Kameren was quickly becoming too big for her to hide beneath political transcripts in her drawer and too time-consuming to be squeezed between arguments in the Wizengamot chambers. She also cared too much to let it go. Not to mention her witnesses; they cared too. Rowena and Eden gave Sabrina reason to push on, and the spark that maybe she wasn’t crazy was fanning into a flame.

Now they needed to take the next step: cornering Milton Bonham. Sabrina dropped her most recent rejection letter for an interview with the Head of St. Mungo’s on top of her pile. She stared at it, letting the words blur together as he mind focused on the conversation in her head: what would she ask him when she got the chance? Where could he lead them? Did he really know something, or was Sabrina’s bad feeling just that: a feeling?

And last but not least: what about Rowena Covington and Eden Fletcher? Rowena had access to Bonham. Eden had interrogation experience that might prove useful if Sabrina’s interview tactics didn’t work out. They both knew Kameren, and they both had their own suspicions about his disappearance. They all needed answers.

Seven months later, it was time to finally get them. Sabrina checked her watch as the hour crept closer to their scheduled meeting. Whenever the door to the pub opened she put down her papers and looked up, but so far it had only been other patrons. She hadn’t told Rowena or Eden that they were both meeting her together; Sabrina hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. Jackson had mentioned something about a rivalry between them, but Sabrina didn’t take it seriously. At worst she expected the usual type of awkwardness that came with interacting with your ex’s ex; Merlin knew Sabrina had been there before.

The door opened once again and Sabrina glanced up, sitting up straighter and pushing up her glasses as the figure in the doorway finally registered recognition.

[Rowena Jones]

“Please tell me you’re only going to get more milk.”

Rowena froze, one arm still only halfway in her coat sleeve. She shrugged it the rest of the way on as she turned to face her housemate’s incredulous expression. One hand tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to reassure Eoin with a wry grin.

“I’m going to get more milk?... after my meeting with Sabrina.”

“No. Absolutely not.” The druid said shaking his head, “I won’t let you go,”

The witch went from slightly amused to pissed off in the blink of an eye. When she spoke, her voice was icy.

“You won’t let me…” she said slowly.

“That’s what I said. This has got to stop. It’s been months Ro. He’s dead.” Eoin said, standing straighter as he faced Rowena’s ire, putting himself between her and the door and locking it with a wave of his hand. “You promised. You promised you’d move on.”

“I am. I will. It’s just a talk Eoin.” Rowena glared at her friend as she brushed past him and brandished her wand at the door. “Alohomora.” The door remained locked. She tried again. Nothing. “Open the damn door Eoin,” Rowena said, her voice low and angry, but there was no denying the twinge of despair that echoed in her words. Her hand shook as it gripped her wand. Useless. Couldn’t even open a door. The greatest witch of her age reduced to this…

“No. You can’t keep putting yourself through this. You’re torturing yourself and I’d be a bad friend if I let you go.”

“Alohomora. Alohomora. Alohomora.” Rowena’s voice grew more desperate at each failed attempt. “Bombarda!!”

The door exploded. Witch and druid coughed as they waved away the dust and examined the damage. “I’ll fix it. Later.” Rowena said as she stepped through the hole in the wall. A hand shot out to grab her arm, stopping her.

“Rowena. Don’t do this. Nothing good can come of it. Haven’t we all been through enough?”

“If someone told you that Elodie might be alive, you’d try,” Rowena shot back. “Tell me you wouldn’t do anything to get her back… or is that why you were able to move on so easily? Did she really mean so little to you?”

Eoin’s face crumpled at the mention of his deceased fiancée. He took a step back and when he looked at Rowena, there was none of the usual friendliness. “That was low Rowena. Fine. Go. But don’t come crying to me when everything goes to shit again.”

Rowena took a step in his direction before she halted. She’d gone too far… but she couldn’t stay to fix things. She was already late and she couldn’t miss this chance. It was like she’d said; if there was a chance Max was alive, she had to try. With one last glance at Eoin’s back as he retreated to his room, she left their apartment and made her way to her meeting.

---

The Leaky Cauldron was as distasteful as always, Rowena thought as she entered. Her golden gaze scanned the room, finally finding the journalist sequestered in a darkened corner. The witch ordered a Firewhisky before moving towards the other woman. Her eyes noted the papers covering their small table, recognizing the familiar scrawl of her mentor, Milton Bonham, on the top most parchment as she sat down with a pained sigh. She held up a delicate finger to ward off any initial communication as she downed half her drink before turned to face Sabrina.

“Is there a particular reason we couldn’t have met somewhere more civilized? Like that cafe on the corner of Diagon? They do the best cupcakes… and I would kill for something chocolate right now.” She said by way of greeting. “What does Milton want?” she continued with a small nod towards the letter she’d noticed.

[Eden Fletcher]

" One, Two, Three, Seven, nine...seventeen, seventeen and a half, eighteen, nineteen, finally twenty. Ready or not here I come!" Eden yelled as she ripped off the blind fold, dropping the snitch scarf on the ground as she took off running down the hallway. She paused at the end of the hallway, the bathroom door was half closed. Was Max hiding in the bathroom and just left the door partly open to confuse her? Eden pushed it open barging in, pushing aside the qudditch shower curtain. Empty. Eden rolled her eyed as she excited the bathroom. Eden continued down the hallway, looking into the large cupboard where the liens were kept. Empty. She checked Max's room but he wasn't there either. "Max...MAAAAXXX, come out come out where ever you are," she called out in the high pitched voice of a child as she excited what would be violet's room. Eden paused at the stair case to the attic, frowning. Was he up there? Eden took the stairs two at a time. How did he get up there so quickly?

"N cheating! You're not suppose to change hiding places," Eden whined as the floorboards creaked above her. Boys. They never followed the rules. Why were they playing this stupid game to begin with? Eden couldn't even remember when they had started the game. She had been searching for what seemed like hours. Eden finally made it up the stairs. The attaic was dark and dusty and smelled weird like old pennies. Edengrimmanced when she touched the cold wet handle. She wiped the sticky stuff on her white dress. Her grandmother had made her put on the lacy thing. A lady must always be properly dressed. Even if she had the manners of a heathen.


"Max? I've found you!" Eden said, as she stepped into the attic. It was empty. That was weird. There was nothing there. No boxes. No old furniture. All of the clutter was gone. There was nothing in the room except for a weird lumpy thing in the middle of the floor. Eden frowned as she went towards the object, she picked it up, bringing it towards the weak light coming from the window. It was a finger.


Eden screamed.


Boom. Eden jerked away by a blood curdling shriek, falling off the couch as she tried to find the source of screaming. Her throat ached as she fumbled around for her wand. She blinked rapidly as she tried to find the source of screaming. Wait. Where was she? She blinked a few more times and she saw the familiar shapes of her living room furniture. She was home. It was empty. Fuck it had been her screams that had woken her. Eden could remember the dream. The endless searching. Fucking hell. She couldn't even forget reality in her dreams. Her whole boy ached as she pushed herself off the floor. She groaned as her back twinge. She must have pulled something when she twisted off the couch. What time was it? How long had she been asleep? It was rare that Eden slept for longer than a few hours. If it wasn't Max plaguing her thoughts it was Emory or the side show freak that had mulitated her best friend and almost killed Eden. Her hands went to the scar at her throat. It was a clean, sharp red line. It was stark against her deadly pale skin. She needed sun. She needed a drink. Drinks. Merlins bloody balls she was suppose to meet the nosy reporter for drink at the cauldron. Had she missed it? Eden glanced at the clock. She was only a few minutes late. Eden glanced wildly around for her wand, finding it sticking up in the potted plant that was half dead. She probably should water it. instead she summoned her coat, and disappeared into the fire place. She coughed as she stumbled into the dimly lit room. Eden spotted the blonde quickly and headed over. She was talking to someone. Eden didn't really care who it was. She would interrupt and just take Sabrina elsewhere. Then Eden noticed who it was and she froze. She was a few steps away, practically hovering over Rowena batshit Coveington. Eden had heard about what had happened to her. She'd been knocked out for months. Eden knew why she was here. She was the love of Max's life. Any investigator worth their shit would have found out about Rowena. It wasn't like Max had kept his affair with the witch a secret. They had practically shouted their feelings from the roof of St. Mungos.

Eden ignored the swishing of her stomach and took the last few steps to the table, taking her seat without saying anything to Rowena. "What evidence do you have?" She said to Sabrina.

[Sabrina Wells]

Sabrina glanced up to meet the approaching footsteps with a half-hearted smile, her head still in the notes she returned to as Rowena made herself comfortable. Over their previous conversation Sabrina had decided she liked Rowena, or at least admired her in a way. To go through the hardship of her fight with the Shadowloved and come out with enough faith to put her trust in someone like Sabrina, it felt significant. She hoped not to let her down.

“We’ve got another joining us shortly.” The journalist pushed her glasses up from the tip of her nose. She stretched out across the table to try to condense her piles of paperwork; though there was little here that her cohorts couldn’t see Sabrina knew new visitors would draw attention by the staff back on her messy table.

“Is there a particular reason we couldn’t have met somewhere more civilized? Like that cafe on the corner of Diagon? They do the best cupcakes… and I would kill for something chocolate right now.” She said by way of greeting.

Sabrina shrugged. “Nice places won’t let you camp out for hours. I think they hav shot chocolate...?”

“What does Milton want?”

“Ugh,” At the prompt Sabrina covered her eyes under her glasses, letting the most recent letter drop on top of the pile, “I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to get him to answer my questions for months and he’s fought me every step.”

Another woman approached them and sat without greeting, throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Eden Fletcher; though she looked quite a lot better than their first meeting, the auror looked like she hadn’t slept in days. The journalist glanced between the two quizzically. While it was clear Rowena had been devastated by their subject’s loss, it seemed Eden had practically self-destructed.

“I’m assuming you two know each other...?” The eye contact they shared spoke volumes and Sabrina pushed on in an attempt to ignore the tension. “Right, then. You’ll both know why Jack sent me to you. You were the people he would have trusted the most.” They were the two Sabrina had found most unwilling to accept his death as certain, at least.

"What evidence do you have?" She said to Sabrina.

Sabrina arched a surprised brow. They were getting straight into it, then? She supposed Eden had hardly been in a state to absorb detail in their last meeting. “Well, nothing concrete. I’m a journo not an auror; I start with witnesses - me - and sources - you.” Sabrina pressed her fingers onto the stack of parchment before her and pushed the top two letters in either direction to her partners. “My next strongest source would be Milton Bonham, the head of St. Mungo’s. If he would talk to me.” She shook her head.

“You two are my secret ingredient: you know Max, and you’ve known Milton for years. If you ask him my questions, maybe he’ll be more receptive.” Sabrina glanced between the two, trying to sus out their reactions. Neither of her newfound contemporaries seemed like they would be able to gently pull valuable information from a powerful, non compliant man. “Or maybe you can get him to open up to me.”

[Rowena Jones]

“We’ve got another joining us shortly.”

“Is there a particular reason we couldn’t have met somewhere more civilized? Like that cafe on the corner of Diagon? They do the best cupcakes… and I would kill for something chocolate right now.” Rowena said by way of greeting, wracking her brain as to who else could be joining them.

Sabrina shrugged. “Nice places won’t let you camp out for hours. I think they have hot chocolate...?”

Rowena wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mere suggestion. Clearly Sabrina had never tried the swill the Cauldron tried to pass as hot chocolate. No thank you, Rowena thought, cradling her Firewhisky closer. This drink, at least, they couldn’t completely fuck up.

The witch glanced at the papers covering the table, noting a familiar scrawl.

“What does Milton want?” she asked.

“Ugh,” At the prompt Sabrina covered her eyes under her glasses, letting the most recent letter drop on top of the pile, “I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to get him to answer my questions for months and he’s fought me every step.”

Rowena’s brow furrowed in thought but was quickly interrupted by the arrival of a familiar and unwelcome blonde.

Eden. Bloody. Fletcher.
Rowena should have known she’d be involved somehow.

“I’m assuming you two know each other...?”

Merlin, Rowena wished they didn’t. She glared at the other witch, noting the tired eyes and unkept appearance. And when had been the last time the woman had been outside? She was paler than a vampire!

"What evidence do you have?" Eden said to Sabrina, ignoring Rowena. Great idea. She could do that too. Just pretend Eden wasn’t there. She returned her attention to Sabrina catching the end of her reply.

“My next strongest source would be Milton Bonham, the head of St. Mungo’s. If he would talk to me.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Rowena said. “I’ve got a meeting with him tomorrow anyway.” She scanned the letter Sabrina had passed over to her and frowned. The tone was decidedly unpleasant and entirely unlike the man she respected and admired. But then again, Milton had accepted Max's death and mourned him... could she really blame him for wanting to move on and not be constantly reminded of his loss? 

“Is there anything you want to ask specifically?” she continued after a moment's pause for thought. After all, interrogating people wasn’t exactly her forte. She’d much rather leave that unpleasantness to the women around her, but there was no point pretending Milton would talk to anyone here but her. “Though as I said at the park, I can’t imagine we’ll find much. It sounds like he’s told you what he knows and nothing he said to me raised any suspicions on my part.”

Except that wasn’t exactly true… Rowena did still have a few nagging questions about that night, which was why she’d agreed to join this last mad goose chase. “I’ll ask about the Healers who moved Max though. That seems like a much stronger lead to me.”

Yes, Rowena concluded, it was much more likely that someone had impersonated a Healer, or maybe even blackmailed one, than the Head of Mungos being involved. Milton cared for Max like the son he’d never had. She would talk to him and put this nasty suspicion to bed once and for all.

[Eden Fletcher]

Eden ignored the waive of hostility coming from Rowena. They didn't have time for their rivraly. Max was missing and no one but them was bloody looking for him. Eden was going to do whatever it took to find him and bring him home. Even if that meant going rogue, working with reporters and bat shit crazy psychotic healers.

“I’m assuming you two know each other...?”

Eden arched an eyebrow at the reporter. Sabrina damn well knew the answer to that question. If she didn't then she was a terrible investigator. maybe she was and that was why Milton was not giving her any information. Then again Eden didn't really know Milton all that well. She had seen him around the hospital a few times, at parties and galas. But she wasn't particularlly close with him. He was Curse's old friend and Max's boss. Eden had more interaction with him when she'd been a kid than adult. It might be better to allow Rowena to approach him. They were close. Then again maybe too close. Maybe that was a downside. Maybe she would be blinded to him. Something was going on at St. Mungos. There were far to many incidents happening there. Secuirty had supposedly been tightened after the first time shadow loved had attacked the hospital. Then again when Elle Calahan had been attacked in the stair well. A breach like the one that happened when Max disappeared shouldn't have happened again. Milton had to know something. What was he hiding? What mistake had been made that had allowed a patient to be attacked in the hospital.

“Is there anything you want to ask specifically?” she continued after a moment's pause for thought. After all, interrogating people wasn’t exactly her forte. She’d much rather leave that unpleasantness to the women around her, but there was no point pretending Milton would talk to anyone here but her. “Though as I said at the park, I can’t imagine we’ll find much. It sounds like he’s told you what he knows and nothing he said to me raised any suspicions on my part.”

Except that wasn’t exactly true… Rowena did still have a few nagging questions about that night, which was why she’d agreed to join this last mad goose chase. “I’ll ask about the Healers who moved Max though. That seems like a much stronger lead to me.”

"My question is why weren't alarms triggered? There was obviously a struggle in the lifts. Weren't new alarms were installed in all elevators and stairwells after the last attacks? If non healing spells go off, then shouldn't an alarm be triggered? Also, where was the extra security staff? It was the aftermath of a battle with shadowlove that were still on the loose. There should have been security outside of the room, at the corridor and the entrance to that wing. Why didn't anyone see the healers?"

[Sabrina Wells]

“I’m assuming you two know each other...?”

It was clear they did, and not cordially. The air between them was still with dead air, leaving lingering resentment stagnant between them. Sabrina glanced between them quizzically before she caught herself and put her head back down in her notes. There was clearly a context here to their relationship that she didn’t want to be involved in; she was busy enough with the details of Kameren’s disappearance, she didn’t also need to involve herself in this stranger’s love life.

"What evidence do you have?" Bless Eden Fletcher for pushing past the awkwardness.

“Well,” Sabrina began, “nothing concrete. I’m a journo not an auror; I start with witnesses - me - and sources - you. My next strongest source would be Milton Bonham, the head of St. Mungo’s. If he would talk to me.”

“I’ll talk to him, I’ve got a meeting with him tomorrow anyway.” Sabrina barely bit back a wince at the idea, a worry line wrinkling her brow. As much as she admired Rowena for meeting her, she was most definitely the more uncertain of the trio sitting a their table. Sabrina had a solid feeling in her gut that kept her on the case. Eden Fletcher seemed to have a death-grip on her certainty that Max Kameren was alive. Rowena… she fluctuated. Sabrina didn’t trust her to push back if Bonham stonewalled her.

“Is there anything you want to ask specifically? Though as I said at the park, I can’t imagine we’ll find much. It sounds like he’s told you what he knows and nothing he said to me raised any suspicions on my part.”

Case in point. In reply Sabrina pulled out her notebook and flipped to a well-worn page at the beginning, filled with potential questions for Milton: Can you identify the men who took Max to be treated the night he disappeared? Can you call them, bring them here for me to question as well? There was a section of the hospital that had been cleared and deemed safe for those named in the Prophecy: Raven, Shield, etc. – Why was Kameren moved out of that area for treatment? Your husband, Albert Schwaller, has the capabilities to fix Kameren’s stated injuries within the facilities he was staying in at the time: why wasn’t he called? What was the construction status of the Catacombs at the time of Kameren’s disappearance, and what protocols failed that got him into a Catacombs lift in the first place?

Sabrina handed the list with those questions and many more written in her small rounded scrawl, watching Rowena for her reaction to the questions; if she bristled at the idea of asking them here in the pub, Sabrina knew she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to ask them of her longtime boss face-to-face. “I’ll ask about the Healers who moved Max though. That seems like a much stronger lead to me.”

Before Sabrina could challenge that Rowena’s statement Eden interjected. "My question is why weren't alarms triggered? There was obviously a struggle in the lifts. Weren't new alarms were installed in all elevators and stairwells after the last attacks? If non healing spells go off, then shouldn't an alarm be triggered? Also, where was the extra security staff? It was the aftermath of a battle with shadowlove that were still on the loose. There should have been security outside of the room, at the corridor and the entrance to that wing. Why didn't anyone see the healers?"

“Well, there was security in those places. My theory is that there were healers who moved him – either impostors or staff paid to move him.” Sabrina’s fingers were back in her paperwork, pulling notes gathered from her own journalistic source in the Department of Law Enforcement for Eden. She handed her the notes and spread a small handful of images across the table for both women to see; they were muggle polaroids, taken with a flash that illuminated the original wizarding-photos they were duplicating. Sabrina found the muggle camera useful in her work, it was easier to sneak past security than one with a magical signature to be detected.

The images were documentary in nature, of the state of the hospital immediately after Max’s disappearance. There was his bed, the sheets still winkled with the indentation of his body on their surface. Several photos were different angles on the blood trail, a trickling stream of bloody bubbles that drew a red line from his room to the Catacombs’ lifts. In places they were smeared by a smooth object that was explained to Sabrina to be the wheel of the gurney they rolled him out on. When the Mungo’s staff finally tracked down the correct lift photos were taken there too of the gurney and a shallow pool of blood with splatter against the baseboard of the lift’s wall, indicating he had been kept in one place for several minutes while the lift moved. The last image was the most graphic: a close-up on a little finger, crusted with blood from the puddle it rolled through, pale and with a nail that had been bitten by the man it was previously attached to.

“You see here – “ Sabrina’s fingertip rested on the photo of the lift, where the blood pooled in a half-dried oval “ – the pool of blood isn’t disturbed and there aren’t independent droplets like in the hall. My source doesn't think Kameren struggled, thinks he was unconscious. I think he was moved by people who looked like healers, who had a word of authority vouching for them.” Sabrina made meaningful, silent eye contact with Eden: Milton Bonham. Sabrina hadn’t wanted to pull out the grisly evidence she’d gleaned from her Ministry contacts in front of these two women who were so clearly fragile from loss, but she needed them all on the same side if the interview was to get them any progress. They needed to be firm, but not too firm. Sabrina would play the center of the extremes sitting to her left and right.

“We don’t have to twist his arm, but I want these missing details accounted for. Rowena,” Sabrina sat back, directing her moderation back towards Rowena’s concerns, “are you sure you want to tackle this on your own? He’s evasive; I would feel more comfortable if you had us in the room at least, for backup. If you could meet him in a room at the hospital, with Eden and I in an adjoining? Or at a restaurant, where we can take a nearby table?”