Dwelling in Possibility

Lorcan saw the arrival of Trenton. A rabid griffin? Looked a bit like the creature had bested her at least for a moment.  

"Welcome, Ms. Trenton," he said, rising.  He couldn't afford to lose good members. He went over to the sideboard, and opened the painting above it. The meeting room was often, historically, a re-grouping place for the Death Eaters, so when Lorcan had restored the manor, he had seen fit to include a cabinet out of the way for what he called "patch kits."

The cabinet was not intended to be secret but Lorcan detested clutter, so he had made use of the space behind the paintings, in the drawers, and any other place out of sight in the room so that the Death Eaters had supplies at hand.

The patch kits were plastic bags that held the barest essentials for wounds. The kits held sterile bandages, antiseptic, a vial of a healing tincture to put on the wounds, and, in case it was necessary, a single dose of pain potion.  

He took out one of the kits and closed the cabinet.

"Trenton," he called. He tossed her the kit. He wasn't usually a man of sentiment except to a very rare few, so the closest she would get to it was his dry toned, "Clean yourself up."

Lorcan was figuring that someone would be questioning the unusual choice to support the Lupins and how they had come to the point of siding with them.  He was intrigued at how Du Hunt would explain it to them.

Pansy had arrived just after the Rookwood clan had entered, nodding respectfully at them. However it wasn't the notable pureblooded Rookwood's that had caught her attention upon arrival. It was, in fact, Scorpius Malfoy. It appeared he was walking in his Father's footsteps, until of course Draco dropped his allegiance and went to spend the rest of his days with Astoria in a manner living off his inheritance.

Pansy didn't blame him, if things had gotten overly complicated with her then she would have done the same. Then again maybe she wouldn't the death eater liked to socialise too much. Besides, what was a life without gossip? The only gossip Astoria ever received was from her visitors. Pansy only hoped Scorpius wouldn't pull a Draco. It was a shame he'd never committed fully, she would never forget that first day of sixth year when her ex-boyfriend had shown her his dark mark. How proud she'd been.

Not wanting to cause attention Pansy simply smiled at Scorpius, taking in his handsome features. Those steel grey eyes, sharp nose and the angular jaw that had once made Pansy weak at the knees. It was no surprise to the witch that, given the opportunity, she would certainly take Scorpius as another substitute for her husband. It would be somewhat nostalgic, remind her of times when she was an innocent student. Innocent? Never.

The ever expanding fantasies playing out on the filmstrip in Pansy's head were snipped short as Katrina-Carlotta's voice filled the room.

The marriage law. Here here. Pansy wanted nothing more than the law removed, it would mean her children could marry the pure bloods she desired as opposed to some filthy muggle born the ministry would probably partner her with. It was one of her worst fears, that her children would break centuries of the Parkinson tradition and marry anyone besides a pure blood. Katrina-Carlotta was right. The law needed to be scrapped, not because of whatever it could do to the stupid economy, but for her own sake for she was a Parkinson-Nott.

Robert Lupin. Pansy's eye's widened in delight, perhaps after the meeting she would be able to have a word with her dear leader, ask her what she knows about the man and what she desires the public to know. Being a senior reporter for the Daily Prophet mean't that she could manipulate the view of the nation with a simply statement. It had come in use many of times before but Pansy needed to stay on the right side of her new leader. Only with Du Hunt's consent would she post an article that could have powerful implications.

Rivah blushed as Lorcan D'Eath tossed her a medical kit. She must be quite a state for him to have bothered. Glancing into the bag, she spotted all the classic medical supplies. Rivah was almost tempted to down the pain potion, for her headache more than anything else, but found herself unwilling to. The blonde knew that she was far from the strongest in the room in most areas, but swallowing the potion seemed almost like admitting to her weakness. She was human after all, the witch would hardly want to draw attention to her flaws. Especially considering the company she currently held.

Not willing to leave the room, the woman quietly pulled out the antiseptic and a cotton swab. Clenching her jaw so that she wouldn't hiss at the sensation, Rivah pressed the swab to the small gashes on her hipbone. The creature's talons had grazed her skin when it tore through her shirt. She was lucky that the beast hadn't had better leverage, or she might be in St. Mungo's instead.

Uncorking the vial of healing solution, she efficiently applied it to the would, before slapping a plaster the size of her face to the area. As Rivah packed the supplies back into the little bag, the woman couldn't help but notice that no-one had said a word about the information Katrina-Carlotta had just provided them.

Robert Lupin was a light wizard, meaning that at least someone in the room would have a problem with the Death Eaters supporting him. However, no-one had spoken up yet. That was understandable, the woman supposed, Katrina-Carlotta could be quite the terrifying presence when one opposed her.

"The Ministry isn't running half as efficiently since Mr. Lupin's been gone," Rivah added, twisting her hair up into a causal knot. The witch was certainly willing to show her support if it meant that her Department would be set back to rights. The increased chance of the Marriage Law being removed was just an added bonus.

Isla sat quietly until Du Hunt brought up the Lupins, and the Ministry. In her opinion, the two didn't belong in the same sentence. For far too long they have controlled the world they all hold dear.

Isla was tired of being an ordinary door mat, she wanted to be one of those deluxe ones from that muggle store, the pottery barn. She could hold her tongue no more on her opinion. While I agree, Robert is our best option at the present time. I suggest we proceed with caution. she said, pausing to clear her throat. A common enemy may unite forces, but what we can't forget, is that they've battled us in the past, and once our common enemy is out of the picture, they will quickly turn on us. she finished, shifting slightly in her seat.

She was surprised. Hell, she was surprised. And something in the the gleam in those dark eyes suggested pleasure too. Good. In the past, she had almost seemed.....protective of him, especially at Layabout. She might have objected to his, a Potter's, sudden appearance at D'Eath Manor in midst of a gathering of Death Eaters. It wasn't the safest thing he'd ever done.

He repressed the urge to smile, irrationally. That was the best thing about Katrina-Carlotta du Hunt. That one quality in her that he'd been unable to find in anyone else. That although she had mentored him in the Dark Arts, dueled opposite him casting spells that even an enemy would think twice about spewing from his lips, much more experienced in this field........yet, somehow: she had treated him as an equal. The Nightmare curse in their first duel. The Lightning Hex. Even the way she had cruelly, desperately used his weakness for Jack in order to incapacitate him. That showed that she had been pushed to that limit, the limit to which she couldn't use curses any longer, and had to resort to unfair words.

Katrina-Carlotta was the one woman who thought him strong enough, and showed it. Who acknowledged his worth. And thought he had the potential for something greater. And he could never forget that.

That thought had only begun sparking in his mind......sending waves of relaxation through his tightly curled muscles, calmed the adrenaline in his gut- less wound up and more alert- when he heard footsteps.

A man he had seen not one week ago threw open the door. And behind him, head bowed, cloak wrapped like a shield, surrounded by family who was foe, was....

Athena.

He couldn't understand it. Couldn't understand the sudden blankness in his mind that her presence evoked. Could only listen, and see, and watch. Her dark, dark hair tumbled over shoulders that stood strong, face an impassive portrait of porcelain. Hard, unmarred, fragile porcelain. Strong enough to crack. Strong enough to cut. She was surrounded by figures, tall, hard torsos and grim faces of her family. Surrounded in a way that surely meant to protect.....but Albus's eyes could see nothing more of it than to imprison. Enclose. Like a cage.

Why had he been so thoughtless? So utterly thoughtless as to not.......foresee. He had known it, as soon as he had set gaze on that emblem of skull and snake emblazoned across her arm. Known it, and yet not known. Life loved to play these ironies, dangle them before your eyes, cackle gleefully. Of the two of them, Albus was the one that did not bear the Mark. Yet, it was Athena who was more unwilling to actually be here.

Because.....his eyes searched her out, drawn to her face and stature in flicks that had to be rapid, if they were not to be seen......because, he knew now, of delusions. Of the traps that man made, and man himself fell into. He was not deluding himself now. Some things had to be believed, for the world to still spin on its axis. And he grasped on this one, unrelenting. Inspite of that Mark. Inspite of the runes branding her skin. She did not wish to be here. Forced, coerced, coaxed, convinced......he did not know. But she did not, could not, wish to be here.

So he averted his eyes and looked straight, secure in that belief. And would remain so, until she herself chose to open her lips and shatter it.

But Fate was hardly satisfied. So when the next person entered the room, replete in that flamboyant air he could not suppress even in a room of Death Eaters, Albus had to repress every deranged urge simmering at the back of his mind to throw back his head and laugh. Laugh till tears of mirth gathered in his eyes and his heart wrung out in bitterness. Because it was f*cking typical, wasn't it?

When Scorpius met his gaze, Albus looked back, inscrutably, unflinchingly. Let him look, and look away, like he did not two seconds after. The anger, the nostalgia, the grudging affection...all was sealed away behind a door that he had locked several years ago. He wouldn't bend this easily.

"I agree with Miss Blackthorn.......partially." The smooth, unemotional words escaped his lips. The wall separating his motor functions from his feelings, his words from his thoughts, consequences from actions, was too strong to be breached. Damn fear. Damn anger. Damn adrenaline, and damn all friggin' people in the world to hell. "The Lupins are no friends of whom they consider to be Dark wizards. The Marriage Law would not be allowed by them, yes. But they aren't the only wizards in the world who oppose the legislation." His gaze shifted from that inconsequential spot on the wall, to the face and eyes of the du Hunt commanding the room. "Why not place someone else in the position of power? Someone more.....inclined to our ways of thinking?" And that, was enough of questions in public, even though the occupants of the room couldn't possibly know of the relation between him and Katrina-Carlotta; and thus know that the challenge was anything but one. Still, it had to be neutralised somehow. "After all, if the Headmistress of Hogwarts can be none other than the head of the Death Eaters....." An incline of the head, indicating appreciation of the feat.

But, hidden under the gesture too, were subtly questioning eyes. She knew, knew of his almost vendetta against the Ministry, and yet she had wanted him to attend the meeting where they were going to discuss means of putting the Lupins back in power? There had to be a suitable answer. He was waiting for it.

And if by doing so, he was ignoring all the elephants in the room by the names of Athena Rookwood and Scorpius Malfoy, then he was doing none any injury.

"Your dissent is noted," Lorcan spoke up, addressing those who were perhaps a bit anxious about the unfamiliar alliance.  

"You have a right to be perhaps a bit suspicious," he said. "Its unusual territory, but not unprecedented.  Regardless of your own personal political feelings, the Death Eaters, as an organization, is dedicated to the values of the pureblood wizards that have kept our kind alive for thousands of years. Being a dark arts practitioner certainly does help but it is not a requirement to support the belief that the purebloods need to be protected."

He didn't feel like elaborating to them that he had experienced that the Lupins did have allies on both sides of the law. He knew that Death Eater Thaor Elldir, Sr., had been a long time close family friend for decades, and all the while he had been a known death eater and was accepted by the Lupins.

And then there had been former Death Eater leader Vincent Majere who had had probably a closer relationship with Khaat Lupin than he'd had with anyone else.  Rumors had flown that they had been headed for romance, but for whatever reason, it had cooled.

Not to mention the Dents--the brother/sister pair who had been family to the Lupins by Khaat's marriage to Robert Dent, and the fact that Jenifer Dent had worked for the Ministry, hired by Robert, without her Death Eater allegiance being a problem.

And the list went on and on. If Du Hunt wanted to deal with easing Potter further, that was her business. It was her call to decide if Potter could be relied upon to deal with the business at hand or not.

"Politically and strategically, this is a very poor time for the Death Eaters to want to try to assert control of the Ministry," Lorcan said, not particularly wanting to list all those reasons either unless Du Hunt wished him to.  "Our fight is not with the Lupins. Our fight is with whoever designed this law, and it was not Lupin. Ms. Du Hunt has proven that to our own satisfaction that it was mpossible for the Lupins to have been responsible for the mess the Ministry is in now.  There is someone within the Ministry that is either misguided or hates purebloods enough to want to destroy us. Our agenda is the same as Lupins. Ironically, it is, for the moment, the same as the Order."  The fact was that before it was over, the Death Eaters might well find themselves needing to align momentarily with the Order as well, as repulsive as that would sound to some of them.

"We are not naieve enough to believe that this alliance is anything more than a mission that we need to cooperate for.  We do not expect it to be unconditional and permanent.

"Personally," he said, looking at each one of them momentarily as he spoke, "I have concerns about our potential success rate in attempting an overthrow of anything until we know exactly who we're overthrowing and what it is they really want--particularly when we have some problems within our own that we need to clear up." His eyes paused briefly on Henry before returning to Ms. Du Hunt.

Steppe watched quietly the whole time.
Her head spun. She appeared moments before outside the house, and wandered into the room after Miss Parkinson-Nott, taking no time to admire the surroundings.

She nibbled her tongue. It kept her head from spinning. The room was considerably dark. Taking a seat she shifted slightly but ill at ease. Many faces came into the room, she recognized many of them from the previous meeting, all of them screamed familiar. Except one.

One she didn't recognize.

She placed her arms neatly in front of her.

Miss Du Hunt had a way of getting people’s attention and Steppe admired and envied this trait of hers. Steppe could only hold a person’s attention for so long… she breathed deeply and feeling the rims of her eyes swell so severely that it hurt, bitterness heavy in the heart and sufficient to make her cry.

Her eyelashes flicked fast, a flame in her eyes ignited. YES! Screw the law! she thought. She wanted to marry…

Well… she had never thought of who she preferred to marry. What a surprise to realize this in the middle of the meeting! The need to laugh was strong.

After mulling over Miss Du Hunt's words, Steppe watched Rivah come in a pitiful mess. A surprise when Lorcan tossed her the first aid kit.

The tension could be felt as the silence in the room stretched long after Miss Du Hunts speech stressing her nerves. She put her arms on her lap when the stranger with dark hair spoke.

A pleasure reached her eyes and the corners of her mouth curved into a gratified smile. Hmmm… I like that! The small trace of bitterness swept away by a wave of thrills and intense pleasure. The idea was sure delightful.
She was starting to grow fond of the dark haired stranger whoever he was.

Overthrowing the ministry could be seriously fun, an enjoyable satisfaction, instead of trying to place Mr. Lupin back in control, but then again, Miss Du Hunt called the shots.

Once Mr. Lorcan spoke she positioned her eyes on the table, all the while resting her chin in her hand, instantly at ease. She lightly tilted her head, in reverence, she respected this man. But held fear for him as well. Steppe allowed her eyes to lift from the table slowly. A small little girl named sadness whined in her heart, when he mentioned that they weren’t to assert control of the ministry. Her eyes rolled down at the table once more.

Had it been anyone else saying that they were going to side with the Order temporarily, she would have made it very clear to them, then and there that she was not going to be happy about the situation, but sense Du Hunt, and Lorcan were on the same page it was better not to object.

Still the Order was an annoying pain in the butt.

Having to work with them was probably going to be stressful, or bothersome, but if it’s the only way to get rid of the Marriage Law, she could comply.

Steppe braved her gaze to scan the room slowly trying to look casual.

Her heart bungee jumped a 6 story building when she saw Henry.
What in the world was he doing here? She had not seen him sense Hogwarts! Of all the people in the world. Of all the days in the year! Today fate decided to place Henry in front of her. Here, Of all places!Steppe felt offense, the type you get when someone pulls a dirty trick. Truly, someone was laughing at her.

The muscles in her face stiffened. She tried to remain immobile, but it was hard to control the apparent anger, her face became stoic.

Yeah. He dumped her long ago. She had to get over it, but still… Oh! He is still so beautiful. Steppe glanced at his features… while he wasn’t looking. Why did he dump me? A soft breeze of sadness and aching bitterness showered her heart. She wanted to hold those deep blue eyes close to hers once more. Oh… If only... why! Why did he dump me!? It wasn’t fair! He should’ve known better. It was Hallie! All her fault! A surge of fury erupted the sadness away.

Problem? What problem?

When Lorcan put his gaze on Henry her mind assessed the situation.
So it was true. Henry had captured Hallie, and what Pansy wrote was more than just gossip. A mix of anxiety and fury splashed into the pool of emotions in her being. A fear simmered down her arms and towards her finger tips. Her nervousness neutralized her anger. Her fingers trembled… did Henry do something wrong?

Her stoic facade changed into an unreadable one. The frustration, and sadness and fury welled up.

I am going to see damn Hallie, once this meeting is over! Her fingers stiffened. She allowed her eyes to narrow, letting her anger concentrate on the serious pout covered her face.

Henry had noticed Steppe's arrival. They were acquaintances to an extent. Ex-lovers. She was the start of what had led the death eater down his path of darkness and drugs. Since that mistake with her that couldn't be forgiven nor recovered from. He was hanging on, trundling along the bottom of the hierarchy.

As Lorcan spoke Henry forcefully stared at the table, he couldn't look up. His manager so to speak. Henry was positive that the man was aware of the drama that had gone on at Borgin and Burkes with the capture of Hallie. Well, if he hadn't noticed a hole in the room where part of the attic had fell in then there was something not right with him, given the fact Lorcan D'Eath noticed quiet a lot. A lot more than Henry could anyway.

The burning sensation that one could only get with a blush flooded throughout Henry's face. Granted he was staring at the goblet before him but that didn't mean the rookie couldn't feel D'Eath's leer pressing down on him. It was heavy, a blackened anchor sinking Henry further back into reality after his recent high.

After this meeting he would need sugar. Lots of it.

Being too distracted by his pondering about D'Eath and the reminder of his failed capture Henry had no clue what Lorcan had just said. He needed to stay alert, not drift in and out of a daydream. It was vital Henry knew exactly the death eaters intentions if he wanted to prove himself, regain their trust and achieve some respect.

Pansy listened, a gleam in her eye at the unfamiliar face's idea of placing someone in a position of power. Personally she felt whatever their decision she had a part to play, whether it was doing some digging in the Ministry to discredit someone or write an article to make someone more liked by the public and maybe within the Ministry itself. Her words were pure toxic, a parasite that penetrated the readers eyes and manipulated their mind. It was a passion of hers, to twist the truth for the death eaters own good.

'I can make the Lupins more favorable, give them good press. I could also do some digging into some recent marriages,' her eyes flicked towards Theodore Rookwood, 'I am sure none of these arrangements have fell perfect, there will be some dark secret within each of them I could cut out and publish.' Pansy wanted a reaction from Theodore, using the word 'cut' to see if Hallie's amputation had affected. No doubt it would be a pain in his rear end. He'd have a bitter wife and the reason? Because of the ridiculous marriage law!

She knew of Jack Dyllan's recent wedding, perhaps if she spoke to her arranged an interview to print in black and white such a well-liked persons horror show of a marriage the Ministry had set up could spark a revolution. The death eaters didn't need to march right into the Ministry to claim the throne, they could side with the Lupins but that would only take them so far because like everybody else noticed they would turn on them at any point. But to turn on a nation?

The order. She rolled her eyes. Of course they would have the save intentions with their blood traitors and mudbloods. It was a sensitive issue, blood purity, to muggle borns, half bloods and pure bloods. The pure bloods were the elitist, wanting to make aware their nobility. Whereas the muggle borns had to endure the prejudice, prove their worth then half bloods... They were simply caught in the middle of it all.

Katrina-Carlotta sat back, and listened. The situation was delicate enough that she wanted to ensure that everyone had the chance to say their piece. She needing this meeting to go smoothly, or at least, as smoothly as a meeting filled with dark witches and wizards could go. This was only the first thing on her agenda for the day, and if fighting or harsh disagreement broke out now, there would be no hope for later.

It had been Albus, of course, who had voiced his doubt most openly. The wizard may have been disguised and unrecognizable, but that had hardly changed his personality. The Potter was one of a small handful of people who had ever dared to question her so openly. The wizard had been talking back ever since the moment they'd met, it had been refreshing. She was glad that he hadn't changed upon getting to know her.

Meeting Albus's eyes, the woman cleared her throat and said, "Mr. D'Eath is correct. If we try to take over the Ministry now, we will not achieve anything. Mr. Lupin is both well-liked and familiar, the people will be more than happy to welcome him back if the opportunity presents itself. It's our job, to make sure that happens."

The witch tore her eyes away from Albus's wrongly-colored ones. "Isla," Katrina-Carlotta started with a soft, cool smile, "your concern is noted. For now, however, the Lupin's are firmly on our side. Despite their Light alignment, they have had a surprising array of Dark friends over the years. While I hardly suggest lowering your defenses around them, they may surprise us yet."

Completely ignoring the Death Eaters who hadn't spoken, the dark witch allowed her eyes to linger on Parkinson for a moment before speaking. "That may end up being rather helpful," she admitted, "stories of unhappy marriages, speculations upon what rights the Ministry will be taking from their citizens next. I grant you full artistic license, have fun with it." The smile on Katrina-Carlotta's face was sinister enough to make the average moral shiver.

Leaning back in her seat slightly, the witch cracked her wrist, finding amusement in the way that it sounded much louder than it really was in the quiet room. The whole situation was a lot more complicated than just getting the support of the public. Robert Lupin wouldn't even walk through the door of his office before Katrina-Carlotta, or someone else, fixed him. The specifics of that were far too intricate and potentially damaging to share with the whole group of Death Eaters, however. That was alright; the woman had missed working alone.