As Hawke followed Terrendus from the bedroom, leaving his younger brother alone with a mass murderer, he admittedly paid little attention to his elder's words at first. He attempted to angle himself so that Theo was still visible through the doorway, but the older man's height made it impossible to keep an eye on the conversation now passing between Theo and Arthur in the room. He'd seen Theo's lips move, but his words were inaudible as his superior's face loomed into view instead.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"This had better be important,"</span>he hissed, giving little thought to respect in this moment. The lack of visibility ate at him like acid, his need to protect his brother effectively taken from him as he replayed certain details of his and Arthur's brief encounter in his head.<br/><br/>Hawke had to hand it to Arthur, he was smooth, alright. His smile hadn't faltered once, not batting an eye as Hawke had prodded him for a reaction, hoping to get any sort of rise at all. Instead, what he'd gotten was a well-orchestrated ruse, the man seeming every bit as competent in his right to be on this crime scene as any other Ministry worker here tonight. Or perhaps the man really was as harmless as he seemed and Hawke was merely riding a wave of paranoia and suspicion. Except why would he bother lying about his identity unless he was guilty of<i>something</i>?<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Because he's guilty of multiple accounts of first degree murder and attempted assassination of the Minister as well as practicing a forbidden magic. </span></i>Perhaps Hawke should share his knowledge, he conceded, bring a second opinion into this. But what if he was wrong?<br/><br/>His instincts insisted he was right.<br/><br/>As Arthur had moved to pull out his wand, that deceitful smile still plastered across his features, admittedly Hawke had been seconds from whipping out his own. Although . . . whatever he'd expected the man to do in a room full of Aurors was beyond him. As Arthur's wand disappeared beneath his robes, Hawke remained on high alert, prepared to defend himself from this wizard. He knew he was a liar and a threat, even if his handshake belied otherwise, and it would take a lot of convincing to make him believe otherwise.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">"Hawke, are you even listening to me?"</span>Terrendus leaned in, as if checking to see if Hawke still retained all of his marbles. Between Albiorix and Arthur, Hawke hadn't slept more than six hours in the past two days. He blinked at his superior, telling himself to focus on the conversation at hand, but as Terrendus's head had moved briefly, Hawke caught a site through the doorway that made his blood run cold. The sight of Arthur's arm over Theo. The bastard was<i> touching</i>him. The shaft of his wand slipped into his fingers . . .<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">"It's an unfortunate circumstance, but we at the Wizengamot thought it prudent to share Dornsby's fate with the officer who got him convicted. He died in transport to Azkaban. Forced himself to splinch . . . ingenious, really. But it's unfortunate that he escaped his time so easily."</span>Hawke was suddenly more interested in what Terrendus had to say.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"He killed himself?"</span>He couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice. The rape victim he'd put behind bars for avenging himself had committed suicide. Hawke schooled his expression, hiding the guilt filling his heart from the outside world . . . but Nastah Dornsby's blood was on<i> his</i>hands.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>"</i>That's unfortunate. Death was not a fitting punishment for his crime."</span>Those were the words that left his lips, but the Auror couldn't make himself believe them.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> I should have let him go.</span></i>Legally, he'd done the right thing. Morally, he wasn't so sure . . .<br/><br/>As Terrendus bid him farewell, Hawke refused to give himself time to ruminate over his own actions a second further. There would be time to drown his thoughts in scotch later . . . or to blockade them away inside himself using occlumency. For now, there was a certain scumbag he needed to keep away from his brother. His feet couldn't carry him back into the room fast enough as he pulled a veil over his face.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#8000ff">"Ah, Hawke. I was just telling your brother here about how you saved me last night."</span>The first thing he noticed as he eyed the pair suspiciously, searching for any and all details, was Theo's wand. He raised an eyebrow at his brother.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Planning on challenging Arthur to a duel, are you?"</span>Theo blinked at him, as if confused, before slipping the birch back into his pocket. He'd ask Theo for details of what had transpired between the two later.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"But anyways,"</span>he grinned, slightly annoyed at Arthur's use of his name. It irked him that he still had no idea to whom he spoke.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Good thing I came along. I thought you were dead until I checked your pulse. That dementor definitely did a number on you, if the screams were anything to go by."</span>Although, while worried about the man the night before, now Hawke had difficulty seeing Arthur as anything but a criminal, certainly not the victim he'd seen after the attack. There was still something off about the way Arthur spoke, but he couldn't quite place it.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"What did Terrendus want?"</span>Hawke raised an eyebrow at his brother's sudden change in subject.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"It was news regarding the Dornsby case. And I'd rather not discuss it."</span>His tone was harsh with Theo, the subject not up for debate.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"Oh, fine. Keep your secrets."</span>Theo looked quite put out, but this was no something Hawke wanted to talk about. He turned back to Arthur, changing the subject back once again.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"It's good to see you've recovered from your attack so quickly. You were a stuttering mess after I revived you . . . "</span>His words trailed off as the realization sank in. Arthur spoke now as clear as day . . . and the timid nervousness was gone completely. If he'd let that detail slide so soon, then what else could Hawke extract if given more time? But he didn't have more time to investigate this man, and if he left the crime scene now, Hawke suspected he'd never get another chance.<br/><br/>Before he could stop himself, his mind had formulated what was practically the stupidest sentence he'd ever allowed to cross his tongue. As he leaned closer to the dark-haired man, grinning flirtatiously, Hawke laid out his charm as if he didn't suspect him of attempted assassination.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"You know, Arthur, I've yet to receive a proper thanks for saving your life."</span>He bit back a comment about his own kisses being preferable to a dementor's, unwilling to crawl that far away from his comfort zone for a case. But still, he was gonna milk this good. Placing his hand on the other's shoulder, he continued.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"The least you can do is accompany me to dinner. My treat."</span>He ignored Theo's horrified expression as his younger brother's eyes flitted rapidly from one man to the other. He was equally horrified by his own actions right now, but this was his only chance at solidifying a second opportunity.