Quote:
Originally Posted by
lazykitty 
Ronan had to fight the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose at his fellow Auror-in-training's mistake. Why did pretty much every magical person he'd ever met resort to magic for everything from turning the lights on to getting the truth out of someone? Sometimes, the muggle way was just better.
Taking the slip of paper he was handed, he read it over. Ah, a black widow. A quite old one, too. After making a quick stop off at the work area, he entered interview room one carrying a file folder filled with a small stack of papers. Most of the pages were blank, but there was no way for his interview subject to know that. What was very obvious, however, was the neatly written label bearing the interviewee's name and the crime in question that had been affixed to the front, which was facing outwards.
Ronan moved smoothly to stand across from the subject with a simple, polite "Good afternoon, miss. Would you mind stating your name for me?" He held his hand out for a handshake to underline the politeness of his tone. His goal? To develop a rapport with the woman before starting the interrogation interview.
“Oh dear, you’re not the nice young lady that brought me in.” The old woman replied, for the moment ignoring his request. She looked confused, downright lost even but Betty did take his hand and give it something of a feeble shake. Her morning was happening so quickly and now there was another one of them.
“Who are you, dear? Are you here to escort me out? I’ve got funeral arrangements to make. I have the perfect coffin in mind, you see, I just know he’d love it—gold rods, he liked gold. Marble design, you know the one I mean? Oh, he’ll be thrilled...or I suppose he would be if he was here.” Poor Harold. Poor poor Harold.
Why did this always happen to her?
Betty took her hand back and eased onto the back support of her chair while she looked the young man over. Polite fellow. What was his name again?