*He passes the sleeve of photographs over first: they're Muggle, unmoving, clearly taken by an amateur with a steady hand. They show the labeled ward door, the rows of empty beds, and then, of course, the old man and the child, strapped in. Xeno's voice is too even, to dry to even properly belong to him.*
These were taken a week or so before the full moon. Source at St. Mungo's sent them in.
*And then, of course, the medical charts, with names and dates and details and faithful documentation. As he slides it across to them, he can't help but remember how it felt to sort through his pile of weeks-old correspondence, to take a sip of tea, put down Mrs. Gamp's submitted recipe for pumpkin-gurdyroot pasties, and pick up--this. Xeno swallows hard.*
There was apparently a third person with them, but she disappeared. And then so did they. No records. Nothing.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 08:45 am (UTC)These were taken a week or so before the full moon. Source at St. Mungo's sent them in.
*And then, of course, the medical charts, with names and dates and details and faithful documentation. As he slides it across to them, he can't help but remember how it felt to sort through his pile of weeks-old correspondence, to take a sip of tea, put down Mrs. Gamp's submitted recipe for pumpkin-gurdyroot pasties, and pick up--this. Xeno swallows hard.*
There was apparently a third person with them, but she disappeared. And then so did they. No records. Nothing.