QUIBBLER DARK ARTS
Number 3: All the Fear of the Fair, Evander’s Story The post-trial holding area at the Ministry of Magic is a cold, bare place. The walls, floor, and ceiling are solid stone, with a heavy door and no windows. The only furniture in the small space are two rickety chairs, and I cannot pretend I am not a little afraid as I take my seat and look into the eyes of the wizard occupying the other. Evander Gerwald stares back at me, unflinching. He appears entirely relaxed, and were it not for the grim surroundings and the shackles around his wrists and ankles a casual observer would have no inkling that a mere twenty minutes earlier he had been sentenced to life in Azkaban for his part in the worst case of Muggle-Baiting tried in front of the Wizengamot in decades. “I thought you only interviewed so-called ‘victims’, I do hope that you don’t consider me as such.” His right eyebrow raises and a smile plays at the edge of his lips. When I tell him that it is my opinion that being a perpetrator and a victim are not necessarily mutually exclusive, the smile becomes more pronounced. “The only thing I am a victim of is this ridiculous system that masquerades as Justice. If you’re expecting a tale of woe and misfortune then I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.” Indeed I would be, as Evander grew up in a happy middle-class household in the popular village of Tippleton. The third son of Elliana and Ichabod Gerwald, owners of a popular local apothecary, by all accounts his childhood was near idyllic. His siblings report that their parents were strict but very loving, and that as the ‘baby’ of the household Evander was showered with affection. How then, one 40
