2 March 1895 — Auror Offices, Late at Night

Working late nights at the Ministry wasn’t anything new. Ben had talked to Prewett about staying late that night and if he might be able to do him a favor and keep the offices clear. After some finagling with Gillespie, Ben was the only one left that night, with the rest of the workers and interns clear and on their way to the pubs (he’d owe Gillespie a ‘no-questions-asked’ favor later).

With that out of the way, Ben got together the documents he’d been gathering for the past week and sat down at his desk with a cup of tea, waiting for Fisk to arrive.

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Dorian Fisk

  

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Generally speaking, it wasn't difficult for Dory to arrange for an evening off now that he was squad head. (Granted, he was never fully off as he had to remain available for urgent crises.) Still, it was several days before he was able to follow up on Sterling's information. Several of his employees were either injured or sick, leaving Dory the unfortunate soul having to cover either overnight or on call shifts. He didn't usually mind the two but when it meant delaying information gathering on a rather sensitive subject he was left feeling rather frustrated about the situation. 

He waited until he saw the auror's office empty out before heading in. Whatever information Sterling was looking to pass on had to be either classified or sensitive for him to have gone through such measures to ensure their privacy. The thought made the heavy ball of dread that had existed in his stomach since the New Year grow even larger in size. Coyle and Chetwold were involved in something then, something dangerous or illegal or both.

And, worse still, Mabel was somehow involved. 

“Sterling,” Dory greeted neutrally as he pulled a chair over to the man's desk.  “Sorry to keep you waiting, there was an issue with one of my interns.”

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Ben looked up as Fisk came into the offices and motioned him over with a wave. The teapot was already pouring some tea into the spare cup as the other man pulled up a chair. “It’s no trouble at all,” he returned easily, sitting straighter in his chair. “I hope it wasn’t too taxing.” He couldn’t help but laugh; intern issues seemed to be a constant no matter what department in the Ministry. Ben had had a few issues himself this past week.

“In any case, I’m glad you could make it,” He began, feeling like Fisk would want to skip past the pleasantries and straight to the point. “We didn’t have many files for either fellow directly, more that they were mentioned in the paperwork for being involved in other incidents; like I said, bounty hunting cases, curse breaking artifacts. We’ve never had direct trouble with them per se,” He added. “They were mostly just involved on a semi-authoritative side; Coyle more than Chetwold.”

Ben opened the files on his desk: one for Coyle, one for Chetwold. And then the thicker file; the one that had a bunch of incidents he couldn’t exactly pin together but something about all of them struck as odd to his gut.

“Take a look at these, they’re just preliminary backgrounds that we’ve gathered on each of them. I know you said you knew them, so it’d be good to have someone corroborating the information, even if it’s just rudimentary.”

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Dory would have rather had something stronger - vodka or gin preferably - but took a sip from the teacup anyway. “No, thankfully nothing too taxing.” He answered briefly in response. His intern hadn't filed some paperwork correctly and it'd taken him an hour or so to remedy. However, if that was the young woman's worst offense then Dory couldn't be too frustrated with her. 

His expression quickly shifted into something more serious as the files were opened. There was a moving picture of Coyle and the insufferable man's smirk haunted Dory. “Really, nothing?” He muttered in response, his tone bordering on incredulous. Coyle he could understand remaining aloof but Chetwold? Dory turned through Coyle's file first, anxious to get the man's smirk out of his sight, and immediately noticed how professional the man came across. All the t's were crossed and the i's dotted.

Maybe he was crazy then. 

“I only recently came into contact again around New Year's.” Dory commented as he skimmed through Coyle's academic background. It was all accurate as far as he remembered. “Coyle supposedly injured himself in the late fall sometime. It was how he befriended my hospital friend.” Even now, Dory was reluctant to bring Mabel's name into the fray. Sterling would be duty bound to report anything suspicious and if Mabel had somehow gotten involved … No, her name would remain unmentioned for the time being. 

“I thought he went to France after school ended though, not America. It was all they could talk about - he had some friend there that had some cursebreaking connection.” Dory then commented, sliding the file back over for Sterling to review.

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Ben sat back as he listened to Fisk. At least some previous knowledge was better than none at all, even if it was obvious from how Fisk was reacting that he and Coyle weren’t the best of friends. He also noted Fisk had thus far kept the name of his healer friend out of the picture. Very well. There wasn’t a need to bring in anyone who wasn’t explicitly involved unless absolutely necessary.

“France you say?” He questioned, looking over the file again to make a note. “I’ll look into that. But what I’m interested in is their hospital visits. I’ve had to inquire at both St. Mungo’s and Hogsmeade, but throughout the past few years they’ve ended up involved with quite a few incidents.” He wasn’t able to get official confirmation that they’d  been constant patients given the confidentiality, but off the record was just as good a confirmation until there was more to demand officially.

Ben sighed, leaning back again and steepling his fingers. “The other file is one I’ve yet to connect Coyle or Chetwold to but you might as well take a look.” The documents in there weren’t redacted in any fashion; he knew with Fisk’s clearance that he was entitled to be shown this information if the situation called for it. Well, Ben couldn’t tell if the situation did call for it, but as Fisk had said, it was a favor and of little risk to Ben if it were to get out that he showed a squad head these files.

“They’re an organization we’ve caught onto but we’re only in the preliminary stages of it. We’re not sure what they’re called either, but just that something is going on.”

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“My friend is out of St. Mungo's.” Dory remarked as he flipped to the pages listing the hospital visits. Nothing about them was particularly telling to him, though the one in late November was likely the visit Mabel helped heal Coyle. He took another sip of his tea and wished desperately he'd thought to bring along something stronger. There was something here, something big. But what?

He closed Coyle's file and moved onto the third, skipping Chetwold's entirely. “What do you mean by something?” He asked, his brows raised with curiosity. The pages were full of incidents that had Sterling not mentioned them likely being connected Dory wouldn't have presumed any ties. One page caught his eye as he was familiar with the patient and pulled Coyle's file back open. “Coyle was hospitalized at the same time as this one -” he gestured to the incident report detailing a violent attack that was suspected as a retaliation attack for something (or so the paperwork said). “Could he have been involved?”

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“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” said Ben absently as he flipped through another file. He took another sip of his tea before giving a sigh. “But that’s the thing; some of this could be absolutely nothing, and others could be the key to making a connection we haven’t previously made.” That was the nature of their work, making something out of nothing and deciding what was actually nothing.

He drummed his fingers on the table contemplatively. There was a reason he’d wanted this meeting to be after hours. “I’ll let you know my theory. Mind you it’s only a theory, and nothing more, so this is more or less off the record if anyone asks you. It may be something, it may be nothing. Whether Coyle is involved in something small or big, crime is crime and crime means violence. Violence means healing. And if you go far enough underground, either you need someone discreet and just as corrupt….or you need someone under your control.”

Ben surveyed Fisk’s expression carefully. “You said this friend of yours is at St. Mungo’s. Are they a healer?”

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Dory's blood ran cold. 

Everything Sterling was saying made sense - violence resulted in healing and so on. But, if Coyle was involved and was looking for someone to control then who better than an aged, (mostly) isolated woman? Mabel had some family, yes, but her biological family abandoned her years ago. She didn't have a large clan collectively looking out for her interests, nor did she open herself up enough to friends for them to catch onto something wrong before it was too late. 

She was, in essence, the perfect prey. 

Dory swallowed thickly as he glanced up at Sterling. “A mediwitch. Brilliant and fully capable of being a healer.” Come to think of it, he didn't know why she never went through healing training because as far as he knew she had the NEWT scores for it. Then, quieter as his alarm grew, he added, “she's an animagus as well. A small wolf - easily missed in the forests.”

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Ben saw when his theory landed on Fisk. The other man went visibly still, even paled a little bit as he processed the information. All of this only proved Ben’s other theory correct; that this was about someone Fisk cared about, and he was actively trying to prevent something from happening to her.

“A mediwitch?” He echoed, his brows raising slightly. That…wasn’t good news. And had the person in front of him been anyone other than another Ministry worker, Ben might have kept the information to himself but… “And an animagus.” They’d targeted the right person, it seemed.

“Well,” He mused quietly, despite the fact that they were the only two people in the department. “From their perspective, it’s likely better if she’s a mediwitch; they have training in high-pressure scenarios tending to serious wounds, and they know how to keep people stabilized at least until it counts. And the animagus aspect…well, it’s a bit tricky but it isn’t unheard of for someone’s records to be tampered with or wiped. Even so, the records don’t need to be touched if they want to keep her hidden away.” Trapped in her animagus form, even.

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Fuck. 

Dory was certain his expression had shifted into one of pure horror the longer he listened to Sterling's explanation. Not only was it preferable that Mabel was a mediwitch, but her animagus status made her even more appealing. It made sense, of course, for if he was a criminal he'd want every possible advantage too. But - this was Mabel. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“You said this was a theory.” Dory stated. Sterling seemed awfully sure of the benefits of Mabel's involvements for this to be a mere theory. “Say it's all true - what do we do next? She won't refuse to turn them away based on a theory alone.” Maybe if he presented it as a serious threat she might, but what if she didn't? What if she believed him jealous or was too blinded by Coyle's charms? 

What if Coyle had already involved Mabel somehow and she no longer could say no? Fuck. They had to do something - and soon.

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If Fisk had looked pale before his explanation, now the man was downright translucent, An expression of mingled fury and horror had stamped itself onto his features and Ben could see how he’d tensed up considerably. Perhaps this was someone that Fisk more than cared about. Likely even loved.

Ben’s heart softened at that, and at the same time he wondered if he’d just made a grave mistake. When it came to loved ones, people often had blind spots and Ben knew he was no exception. He sighed heavily. “And neither would anyone else, Fisk,” He replied, his frustration at the situation evident. He ran a hand through his curls. It was compounded by his realization that this case was extremely personal to Fisk.

“What I have is an inkling, not nearly enough to do much other than speculate; and that’s only one of the possibilities among many.” He looked to his notes, riffling through the options to turn to Fisk and show him. “For all we know, Coyle could be genuinely interested in her and the fact that she’s a mediwitch is a bonus.” Ben doubted it, but the point had to be made that he couldn’t be sure and until he could be, there was precious little to be done, at least on his side.

“But…” He paused. “If it is true…I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything until I have something more concrete. And I can tell you now Fisk, I won’t have much time in the next month to make a huge dent.” He had a large report to write, reviews for interns and there were more detailed cases that took precedence.

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There was little doubt in Dory's mind that Coyle's interest in Mabel began as genuine. She was too bright, too — for Coyle to have ignored Mabel altogether. However, there was also little doubt in his mind that Coyle's intentions were nefarious. The man was too suave, his interruptions too perfectly timed (had Mabel tripped in the garden or had she been tripped?) for them to be the actions of a respectable suitor. There were rules of courtship to abide by, gentlemanly ways to adhere to, that Coyle was performing almost too perfectly. 

There had to be a flaw somewhere. A mistake Dory had somehow missed in their limited interactions. Something that would inevitably point towards Coyle's actual intentions. 

Dory's hands were shaking as he wandlessly charmed the paperwork to begin duplicating itself. “I have time.” Dory said as his panic began to form into a plan. He'd read through the pages and find the connections and from there - well, from there he would have to involve Sterling again. And, with any luck, he'd have something concrete to show Mabel how she was being tricked into a criminal enterprise. 

“I have nothing but time.” It wasn't true in any regard, Dory was often overwhelmed with work too. But - for this - for her - he would find the time. “I'll keep you apprised of my progress.” Dory muttered, refusing to take no for an answer. “And if you find anything more you'll tell me?”

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Sympathy and regret filled Ben as he watched Fisk gather what he needed. Technically he shouldn’t have allowed him to duplicate the paperwork, but he already knew Fisk would have done it anyways; found a way to get them. The fact that the files were only in the preliminary stages of being put together made it a minor infraction instead of a gross oversight.

“I will.” Ben promised with a nod. “And Fisk, let me know if I can do anything else, alright?”

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He didn't wholly believe Sterling's promise, not when it went against ministry policy to share classified information beyond the required scope. He had no alternative though. Sterling was the only in he had in the auror's office now that Ross was no longer minister. The name Fisk didn't carry the weight it once did, though perhaps Ross could talk to Minister Dempsey?

“Thanks,” Dory nodded his gratitude as he tucked the folders into his briefcase. “And I owe you one. Just name it and it's done.”

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