Fiendfyre

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Deveena's mind swam around in an abyss of white, desperately searching for hues to focus on in an attempt to anchor her thoughts and stop her head from spinning. The blurry colour of nothingness reminded Deveena of the empty canvases in which she would often paint. She vaguely registered drab strokes of colour in the comparatively blander room.

It was a dark figure - no, two. To say the man was taller than the woman would be a severe understatement, but she more than made up for it with her air of stature. She held a perfect posture as she studiously scanned her surroundings - her hair styled immaculately in a long dark braid and her steely grey eyes matching her sharp uniform.  The man, in stark contrast, looked like an ice cream man who owned seventeen dogs and ten cats.

Deveena recognized her as her Mia Black's boss. "Ms Fawley, my name is Danielle Smith and this is my colleague Mike Kowalski. We're here to ask you some questions.".

Normally, Deveena might've been in awe of the man standing before her - the legendary Mike Kowalski, but all she felt was a cold indifference, and a sneaking sliver of suspicion. Why would both, the Heads of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Magical Catastrophes, want to interrogate her?

Kowalski must've noticed Deveena's expression. "I usually let the Aurors in charge of the relevant case handle these things," he began, his tone nothing but professional "but the severity of this case demands a more... unconventional approach.".

He advanced, dragging a stool next to Deveena's bed, and settled comfortably. He set the sling bag that he was carrying on the floor and rummaged through, eventually pulling out two notebooks and handing her the one which was painstakingly familiar, along with a No-maj pen.

"Do you mind if I take notes? It helps me remember."

Deveena simply stared, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her eyes were glued to him for an uncomfortably long amount of time, to the point where his image should've been tattooed in her brain. But the only thing she could register was that he must have either used a stretching jinx or been part-giant, to reach such unnatural height. Everything else, details such as the shape of his nose, the color of his eyes, they escaped her focus.

Eventually, Deveena accepted the notebook. It was in wrinkled yet pristine condition, already half-filled with messy handwriting and random doodling.

She supposed it was a kind gesture, but, as ungrateful as sounded, she found it frankly insulting. After all that was lost in the attack, the only thing she had left was this worthless piece of junk.

She looked up. Mike Kowalski was looking at her expectantly, and she realized with a start that she hadn't given him an answer yet.

She began to write, offhandedly marvelling at the ease in which her hands had stopped shaking. The routinity of the actions helped her concentrate her vision. She held the book up on display, I don't mind.

"Good. Now, the questions I'm about to ask you may appear unnecessary, but I assure you that they're all important to the case. Please try to answer them to the best of your ability.", Deveena nodded.

"What's your full name?" Kowalski began.

Deveena Colette Fawley, she penned.

"Date of birth?" he inquired.

11/21/1988.

"Full names of your parents?"

Lyra Elizabeth Fawley neé Rosier.

He didn't comment on the blatant incompleteness of Deveena's answer. Instead, he flipped his hand through the air, carelessly indicating the bleak room, "Do you know where we are right now?"