"Start from the beginning."

Logan sat in a cold metal chair in front of a cold metal table in a small, square room without windows. Of course there were no windows; he was at the Ministry, it was all underground. He was on Level Ten; he was pretty sure that's where the interrogation rooms were.

A woman, a hit witch he didn't know, was standing against the wall, twirling his wand in her fingers. He could have gotten it back; he knew wandless magic. But he didn't. He just sat there, staring at the table.

"Tell us what happened, Fletcher," she said. "Things'll be worse for you if you don't."

"They won't be better if I do," he retorted. The woman sighed.

"Maybe not. But if you don't talk, all we'll have is Snidgeton's report," she said. "She doesn't paint you as a very likeable character, Fletcher."

Logan scowled. Yes, that article. Could he blame her for it? She didn't know any better. None of them knew better, none of them knew anything.

She'd certainly been quick. Logan had hardly reached his apartment before the hit witch caught up with him. What had happened? His memories were vague. He'd left the room on Level Nine, papers and box in hand. He'd been headed for the Minister's home. Then all those people--Artemis had been there. He still didn't know who the rest of them were, why they'd been there, why she'd been there. He didn't care anymore. His life was over.

Garrow had come, had cast the curse on one of the men, and everyone had dispersed in the chaos that followed. Logan had wanted to grab Artemis, to talk to her, but at the same time he wanted to be very far away from her, and the latter inclination had won out. He’d stayed long enough to make sure she found the way out, then ran. What must she think of him? Especially now, with Snidgeton's article...he didn't want to think about it. He'd lost her. He'd lost any chance at a new life with her.

He'd gone home. In his panic, it was the only place he'd been able to think of. He should have known better, should have gone somewhere unexpected. She had been right behind him, in the doorway. She'd Stunned him from behind. He didn't know what had happened to the papers, or the box. He'd brought the papers with him to the flat but hadn't grabbed the box. He hadn't asked about it yet.

"We looked through your notes," she said. "There were letters from Garrow dating back to January. Was that when it started?"

"It started before that," he said. "It started in Ireland."

"Ireland," she repeated, coming to the table and jotting something down on her notebook. "Alright. But when did you come in? Did that happen in January?"

"Yes," Logan said, too tired of it all to be defiant.

"What happened?"

"Garrow summoned me to his office. Asked me if I had ever considered the human soul. He wanted to harness it, control it. Control people, irremovably. It was madness; impossible. He offered me money. I didn't need it, didn't want it. He pleaded my curiosity. There's a reason I became an Unspeakable. I solve problems. I solve mysteries, mysteries no one else can solve. He put it in that light." He stopped and sighed, shaking his head. "Even if he hadn't paid me, I would have researched it. I had to have the answer to the question. He knew that. That's why he chose me."

"Not because of your fantastic record?" she asked. Logan shook his head again.

"No. There are others who could have done it. But they are wiser than I am. They would have been able to resist his madness. I was weak," he said.

"So you began work on the curse."

"Yes," Logan said. He thought about mentioning the theories from Ferox, the input from other Unspeakables now gone. He decided against it. It would take too much to explain. He had no proof against Ferox.

“What happened on September 8th?”

Logan looked up.

“That was the day Judy died,” he said hollowly. The witch nodded.

“Yes. What happened?”

“Garrow summoned me for an urgent situation. When I got there he asked me to teach him the spell. I refused. I told him I wanted nothing more to do with it. I told him I was quitting. He showed me Judy. I told him he was mad and tried to untie her. He burned my hand. He told me…” Logan trailed off, suddenly finding it very hard to speak. “He told me he’d hurt Artemis if I didn’t…show him. How to use the spell. I showed him. I was weak, again. He killed Judy. I couldn’t stop him.” He hung his head; it was beginning to pound.

“Artemis? Artemis Sinistra?” the witch asked, picking up her notebook again. Logan nodded. “How do you know her? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Get away from me! What have you done?”

Logan didn’t answer. She sighed and stood up, walking around the room.

“Right. So you gave Garrow what he wanted—”

“What choice did I have?” Logan yelled, standing and slamming his palms down on the table. “I didn’t care about what he was doing. I was a scientist; the moral consequences meant nothing to me!”

“What changed? What changed, Logan?” the woman demanded, cutting him off.

“Artemis,” Logan said, sinking back down into his chair. “I met Artemis. I didn’t used to care about people. They’re…insignificant. Easy to understand. Intellectually boring, worthless. Artemis was different. Intelligent, mysterious, unfathomable. I began to care about her; then I started caring about other people too. I cared about the people Garrow had us test the spell on. I cared about Judy. Suddenly, I cared about the immorality of the spell.” He shook his head. It was pounding. He felt sick.

“Garrow had never had to bribe me before. I didn’t care enough. But I started refusing, getting defiant. He had to find a way to force me, through Artemis.” He gritted his teeth angrily. “Don’t you see? That’s what he does. That’s how he gets to people. He cares less about people than I did. He uses them. He’s a monster. He would have killed her! He wanted to kill me too.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“What happened in the Department of Mysteries last night?” she asked finally.

“I’m not sure. I had gathered all my notes and letters together. I was going to go to the Minister and put a stop to everything. Garrow got rid of everyone else. I was the only one left,” Logan said, almost to himself. “I had it planned. I was going to turn him in, and myself, and start over.

“I was leaving when they came. That’s why I had my wand out, you see, the lock on the door can only be undone with a wand,” he continued. “I wasn’t attacking them. I didn’t know they were there until it was too late. That man, the healer…he grabbed the container out of my hand. I tried to stop him. The spells on it were weakening. Kate’s soul was close to breaking free. It was fragile. I’d put a formula into the spell that would send a released soul back to its body, but I couldn’t be sure of the range, if it would work from that far away.”

He fell silent.

“So Holywell grabbed the container,” she said, prompting him.

“Yes,” Logan said. “I lunged after him, tried to get it back. But Garrow showed up. I don’t know why he was there. He must have guessed what I was doing.” He shook his head. “Artemis was there! I don’t know why. I hadn’t wanted her to get involved.”

“Get away from me! What have you done?”

“What have you done?”

He took a deep, bracing breath.

“I pushed her out of the way, made sure she made it out…then I went to my flat. Where you arrested me,” he pointed out.

_____

“I don’t know, Ben,” she said, shutting the door to the interrogation room behind her. The Head of Aurors stood before her, tall and grim.

“You believe him, then?”

“Unspeakables seek the truth. They seek facts. Why would he lie? It would be against his nature,” she said.

“He would lie to save his own skin,” Ben said. “How is it that you know so much about Unspeakables anyway? That could all be false. They could all be working on abominations like this.”

“Never you mind,” she replied, her voice harder. “Besides, his version gives us a stronger case against Garrow. I’m willing to abide a falsehood to put him away.”

Ben sighed.

“Justice isn’t supposed to be about sacrificing the truth,” he said. “Make the deal.”