Holding a Torch For Gilderoy Lockhart

Gilderoy Lockhart had only been in the ward six weeks, and he was about to be murdered. Just that morning he had attacked Frank Longbottom with a vase, just as Frank was beginning to recognize colours again. He'd drawn a sun, and had begun to colour it in yellow when the flower vase had come crashing down on his head. Frank hadn't moved afterward, and finally, giving up, Miriam had helped him back to bed.

"Can't believe it," Pippa said consolingly when Miriam told her in the canteen. "That's just terrible."

"Remember Frank and Alice at Hogwarts? They were a few years ahead of us," Miriam said. "Head Boy and Girl." Pippa and Miriam hadn't been friends at Hogwarts, coming from Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively, but had bonded from the first day of classes at Mungo's. Dearborn had joined them the next day.

"Yeah, vaguely," Pippa said. "It's a shame..."

"And, to top it off, their son is coming today. I was kind of hoping that he'd, you know, trigger something."

"I know what you-" Pippa broke off as a small contingent of official looking wizards made their way to the table.

"Miriam Strout?" one asked.

"Yes. Is there something the matter?" she asked. It wasn't odd to receive Ministry wizards at St. Mungo's, especially not in her ward. It was strange, however, to have them track her to the canteen during her lunch hour.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's possible," the wizard replied. "Alone."

Gulping, she agreed and led them to her office. Only two entered, the other two staying outside the door. With a quick jump of her pulse, she realized that these people were Aurors.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband," the wizard said, after he introduced himself as Dawlish and his partner as Proudfoot.

"Ex-husband," Miriam said shortly. "And what could you possibly want to know? The man's been in Azkaban for twelve years, and we separated before that."

"When was the last time you saw your ex-husband?" Proudfoot asked.

The memory was indelibly etched into Miriam's mind, although there was nothing extraordinary about the day. It had actually been one of the better times she'd seen him, after she'd told him to leave. They hadn't shouted at each other, or anything.

"About twelve years ago, this month. Here at the Hospital. He'd been visiting a friend."

"Which friend?" Dawlish asked. "Why were they here?"

"I can't recall," Miriam lied. In fact, it had been Remus Lupin, but such visits as a werewolf chose to make to St. Mungo's were confidential to encourage them to continue their visits.

"I see," Dawlish said. He didn't believe her, but so what? "And that was the absolute last time you saw him? Your sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. It was just before he was sent away to prison. Not much chance of seeing him since, is there?"

"Mrs Black-" Proudfoot began.

"That's Madame Strout, thank you."

"Sorry," he said. He didn't look sorry, but Aurors never did. "It has come to our attention that Sirius Black- that he's escaped..."

Miriam wasn't sure how long she gaped at Proudfoot before Dawlish cleared his throat.

"Escaped?" she demanded, rising from her desk. "How in bloody hell could he escape from Azkaban Prison? It's supposed to be impossible!"

"We know that, Madame! We know that!" Dawlish cried as she leaned over her desk at him. "We haven't a clue how he managed it, unless he had help-"

"And you think I had something to do with it, do you?"

"Of course not-" Proudfoot began, his eyes huge as she turned her glare on him.

"Then why come to see me? What about his family? Have you spoken to his mother and cousins? Have you?" she demanded again, pounding her fist on the desk.

Dawlish and Proudfoot shrank back in their seats just as much as their Auror pride would allow.

"His mother died years ago-"

"Good! Filthy woman."

"And his cousin Narcissa-"

"Is she dead too?" Miriam asked, allowing that flicker of hope.

"No, she's alive. She hasn't had any contact with him-"

"Well, neither have I!" Miriam shouted as she tore around the desk and ripped her door open. "Get out!"

"Madame Strout, we must speak to you about security," Dawlish said meekly, rising from his seat. "Black might not be in Azkaban, but he most definitely is unhinged."

"Mr. Dawlish," Miriam asked in her sweetest voice, "if you were my ex-husband, unhinged or not, would you come anywhere near me?"

"N- no!"

With that, Miriam slammed the door and slid down to the ground.

*

Pippa and Dearborn weren't able to keep up with her that night, but did manage to keep her from going home with Jonas Mortlake, at the very least.

"Drearbone?" she whispered as he rolled her into her bed very early the next morning.

"Yes, Miri?" he replied.

"Don thin' I'll be in tamarra."

"Oh? Why not?" he chuckled.

"Career shange."