Fabian couldn’t help a sigh in relief when Edgar broke the subject, bringing out into the open what everybody involved knew was going on. He hated this lurking around lark; he was much more of a take-action sort of bloke, and felt much more comfortable diving right into the confrontation.
Fabian followed Edgar’s lead, moving to his side and effectively hemming the man in, crowding him into a corner so that he couldn’t escape.
"I don’t know what the hell you think you’re playing at," he said, matching Edgar’s whispered tones. "But we’re not letting you lay a finger on McFarley. You lot’ve done enough already."
Too right they had. Surely it was enough that they’d cursed the poor bugger into insanity; now they were going after his life? Really, they needed to learn when to leave well enough alone.
He advanced further, encroaching upon the man’s personal space and lowering his voice to a threatening purr. ”Look, mate. Like my friend here said, I think it’s best for all of us if you fuck right off. We don’t want any trouble. Make a scene and it’ll be all of us getting thrown out - and likely getting a thorough investigation by Ministry wizards to figure out just what the hell we were doing skulking around outside poor Finley’s ward.”
Here he took a step back, and smiled brazenly, irritatingly confident. “I’m not too worried about that - my conscience is clean. Somehow I doubt that you can say the same.”
It wasn’t like the Ministry wizards would actually do anything to this bloke if they were found out – he hadn’t actually done anything yet, and in this situation Edgar and Fabian, as the aggressors, were more likely to get caught up. But they didn’t need to mention that just now – with luck, they could intimidate him into backing down without anybody having to draw wands.
He put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder and smiled coldly. “We can do this the easy way, or you could make things difficult for us. What’s it going to be?”
At that moment, a nurse passed by, eyeing them suspiciously. Feeling her eyes upon them, he took a slight step back, and let his posture relax.
“Just terrible about your wife, mate,” he said, voice kind and sympathetic. “Chin up – I’m sure she’ll get better soon.”
When the nurse had passed into her intended ward, Fabian moved forward again. “What’s it going to be, then?”
In response, the man just spat on his shoes. “Touch me again and I’ll make you wish I’d just addled your brains,” he snarled, attempting to jerk free of Fabian’s hold on him.
Well. That was just a step too far – call him names and attempt to murder an innocent Ministry official, but spitting on somebody was absolutely disgusting. He liked these shoes.
“It’s gonna be like that, is it?” He took a firm hold of the man’s arm, and began manhandling him towards the door to the stairwell. “Edgar, help me out, will you?”
Edgar knew that both he and Fabian knew that they were pulling a half-bluff by threatening to get the Ministry involved. As a rule the Order tried very hard to avoid such situations, seeing as the Ministry didn't exactly condone their activities. What's more, if it came to a fight it would be very easy for the Ministry to convince themselves that either Edgar or Fabian or both were on the opposite side to the one they actually were. Details such as those were always getting confused these days. You could just as easily find yourself facing the Wizengamot as being caught up with the maniacal followers of Lord Voldemort.
But although the guy didn't look nearly clever enough to call their bluff, Edgar still kept his hand immediately next to his pocketed wand as they were interrupted by a passing nurse, ready to draw it if need be.
The response the actually received to their threats was a little more gross than aggressive. Edgar had seen some pretty disgusting things in his time - hanging around pubs and bars tended to do that to you - but he still curled his nose up at the spitting.
"Oh, it'd be my pleasure, mate." He replied to Fabian, grabbing the guy's other arm to assist in the dragging.
As they left the hallway he looked back to see if anyone had seen or was going to stop them. In the rush of the hospital their altercation seemed to be going unnoticed, with the exception of a timid looking man and woman who were gazing at them with shocked expressions. Neither lifted a finger to interfere, however. Too scared, obviously, and not wanting to get involved. Many people were like that. Edgar didn't really understand the rationale behind doing nothing, but he was quite a bit thankful for their fear in that moment. The last thing they needed was some random member of the public getting involved.
Once in the stairwell, Edgar quickly spotted a storage cupboard off a landing, opened it with a flick of his wand without even checking to see if it had been locked at all, and pulled the guy inside. Perhaps a little too roughly, as the guy ended up knocking over a shelf of bandages, but in this situation Edgar didn't give a shit if the bloke ended up with a few nasty bruises.
"Hey fuckhead, watch where you're-" the man started, before Edgar cut him off.
"Sit." he ordered, wand jabbing into the man's chest and one hand gesturing to a crate in the corner. His command was met with a barrage of insults, but the drawn wand did the trick. Edgar summoned the man's own wand, which flew into his hands despite its owner trying desperately to snatch it out of the air, and then pocketed it.
Now that the physical work was done, Edgar turned back to Fabian. The next step was to try to squeeze some information out of this bloke, and it had already been shown many times that day that Fabian was the better of the two at talking. Edgar was content just to keep his wand in the guy's face, ready to hex him to oblivion if he tried anything.
