The Tribrid and Her Reflection {Book Two - - Complete}

Hate and Love Are Equally Earned

The journey to London was a quiet one.

No one looked in her direction the rest of the way, not even Theseus. She couldn't blame them. Elijah was annoyingly right, as usual. They'd already wanted to slap a monster label on her forehead, and she'd given them every reason to.

You can't do monstrous things and pretend you're not a monster.

Hope walked in through the Ministry doors, her head held high, and she was led down a series of hallways. Right before she turned the corner, a pulse of something caught her attention. Albus and Elijah stood at the corner, features tight as they watched her. She met their eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.

It was her trust in them that kept her walking down the hall to the interrogation room. Stepping inside, the door slammed behind her. Turning, she realized no one had followed her in. Alone with her thoughts, she plopped down in a chair and stared at the desk in the middle of the room.

Made of aged wood, it looked standard, much like other desks she'd seen in old-time movies. In fact, the entire room didn't seem magical at all. It was like taking a slice of the Muggle world and dumping it into this tiny room. At first, she wondered if it was a way of stopping Wizards and Witches from using their magic, but then another thought made her smile.

It was meant as a scare tactic, she realized. Muggle artifacts in an unfamiliar territory designed to instill unease in those being interrogated.

The wall clock ticked the seconds, and she watched the minute hand move from the three to the four.

What was with all the mind games? If they had a witness and already knew they were going to sentence her, why try to make her squirm?

Something Elijah had said came back. They wouldn't be able to prove the remains weren't innocent people. However, they also couldn't prove the remains weren't of dangerous criminals, which Hope was defending herself.

Maybe they held fewer aces than Hope assumed.

The door opened with a teeth-aching creak, and someone stepped through the threshold.

"Good afternoon, Hope." An old man with snowy hair spoke, letting his cane guide his aged body to the seat opposite the desk from her. It took him a moment to sit, but he fixed her with a severe stare when he did. "Do you know why you're here today?"

Hope crossed her legs, resting her palms on her knees, staring back. "The Aurors didn't say."

A crinkled smile touched his lips. "I've heard a lot about you, Hope. Unfortunately, not all good things, but you are sharp as a tack and quick as a wit."

She didn't reply.

"So," he continued, "you know how this works. I'll ask you questions, and you'll likely evade any answer that might seem accusatory to yourself. However..." he trailed off, "If what I've heard is, in fact, correct, you're looking at a hefty consequence."

Silence stretched as the seconds ticked.

"My name is Gabriel. Is there anything you'd like to talk about, Hope?"

Hope managed a small smile. "Ah, yes, is this an interrogation or a therapy session? I'm confused."

Chuckling, he shook his head and opened the file in front of him, searching through it. "You are what you call a Tribrid? Part Witch, part Vampire, and part Werewolf. Is that correct?"

The door opened again, and a voice grated her nerves.

"Sorry I'm late," Thomas said as he closed the door behind him.