Kids These Days...

Once admitted into d'Eath Manor, Caleb Flint walked with an assurance that was expressly reserved for the newly entitled generation, a generation who had been relatively untouched by the harsh truths of war, but had been force fed the ideals that led to such travesties. Because of this unfortunate combination, Caleb and his friends, the other pureblood Death Eater trust fund baby boys, thought they knew the deal even though they had never actually had to defend their ideals.

To his credit, Caleb was aware of his folly, having first witnessed it through said friends, before logically applying it to himself. It bothered him at first but with a smirk and a shrug, he realized he had struck gold. The old timers would spend their whole lives trying to pass on their legacies, but the likelihood of ever having to actually work for it was low for him. It was a low-risk, high-yield investment. Everything came back to money.

He let out a whistle, pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his checkered suit pants, his pressed black shirt stretching nicely over his young body. A house elf suddenly ducked out of an alcove and beckoned his towards the sitting room where Lorcan had been prepped to receive him.

He turned and stepped inside. "My lord," Caleb said, a relaxed smile on his face, giving a slight incline of his head in respect and recognition.

@Lorcan D'Eath

The half vampire had been working on the finances for the Death Eaters while he waited on the appointment with Mr. Flint. The fact that Flint wanted to meet with him at all had Lorcan a bit curious. Some of the younger Death Eaters seemed, these days, to have joined so they could merely relish in the title of the organization, fantasizing about Voldemort and, God forbid, Lucius Malfoy. Lorcan's own personal belief was that the real Lucius Malfoy was a pitiful figure--a coward. The legend was so far distorted from what the man had ever been that he wasn't sure that some of the new blood had a clue whatsoever what it was like to actually risk one's life for keeping the wizarding world safe and secure for the future. Lorcan was hoping that just one of the younger people had some genuine interest in reality rather than fantasy.

The house elf announced Flint, and Lorcan closed the ledger book and got up from his desk. He picked up the crystal cordial glass on the desk and downed the potion in one gulp. It was only so he could stand the infernal brilliant sunshine that everyone else found so cheery and pleasant. It gave him migraines if it were too bright. A hazard of being half vampire. He could go out in it, but it did cause him pain sometimes. And this was one of those times. He replaced the glass on the desk, glad it gave him some ability to interact with those who didn't have vampire bloodlines.

He watched Flint come in. It had been some time since he'd seen him. Flint did know how to show respect, and Lorcan did appreciate it.

"Mr. Flint," Lorcan replied. "Have a seat. What brings you here to the manor today?"

Flint had seen his share of dark lords, even in his mere eight or so years as a Death Eater. Archer and Marcheti had stirred things up, for sure, and then there was Emof, ugh. Regardless, the point was that it did feel a little weird attempting the reverence that Voldemort had elicited from his followers, the position seemed so temporary and... dare he say obligatory.

It was actually Camila who had voiced the word obligatory. Caleb was smart, yes, but he had little reason to question the organization that only offered him opportunity. Camila's affiliation was a little more loose and she often drew Caleb into conversation just to analyze the various aspects of the ideology. Though Caleb still respected the position's legacy, it was hard to get Camila's thoughts out of his head.

Caleb smiled and took a seat, looking remarkably at ease, knowing the relaxed civility helped provide the air of competence - not that he needed to put on airs.

"I believe my father had been tasked with a communication with the Russian Death Eaters." He withdrew two rolls of parchment, sliding them over. "Ms. Elkin, the Russian Head responded. In brief, she currently respects our boundaries if we respect her own. And I also managed to recover a series of letters from a student, regarding the American school exchange. That's a copy of the original. It seems students are trapped on the grounds and the Ministry never responded to the girl. I don't think they have any answers. There might be an opportunity in there."

((Figured this could be before the train incident))

"Good work, Flint," he said, taking the parchments and unrolling them. He read the correspondence from Elkin. "Sophie Elkin is a capable woman. I have no need to be at odds with her, especially when we fight for so many of the same things. I'll send her a letter back to reassure her. I can send it by owl, unless, of course, you'd prefer to get it to her through your own family and connections."

He picked up the other parchment and read the student letters. He frowned.

"What the hell is going on there? Sounds like the issue isn't at Hogwarts but rather in the States," he sighed. "Well, sounds like another reason to respect time honored tradition.  We've not had need to try to link a portal across thousands of miles to shuttle our children through. Risky business, that. Looks very much like the Board of Governors is sharply lacking in good judgment.  This sounds like it does merit looking into deeper." He looked up at Flint. "Another piece of good work." He wasn't sure whether the young man preferred the less messy work, or whether he was the blood and guts type that preferred to be on the front lines. However, his own instincts suggested to him that Flint might well be better without the gore in his life. There was always need for "white collar" workers in the Death Eaters, but he was going to let Flint make his own choice.

"And if we move forward with this, what do you think you would like to bring to the affair?" he asked.

"It's up to you, sir," he said, smiling as Lorcan gave him the option on how to proceed with Sofie. "I certainly don't mind being in her good graces, but I'm sure she would also like hearing it from you." He had liked Sofie quite a bit when Aaron was in charge, had enjoyed the dynamic between the two, had enjoyed their approach. It had been no surprise to learn that Sofie had claimed her right as heir to the Russian Death Eaters, an organization much more based in blood than their British chapter, and that she had become a solid leader. It helped that she was also easy on the eyes. He could get on board with an arranged marriage if it was to someone like Elkin.

Caleb was pleased that he had managed to be to one to enlighten Lorcan, but it also inspired a bit if exasperation. Surely this news had reached some other Death Eater. Had no one thought this information to be valuable enough to Lorcan to pass along? Was he the last ambitious Death Eater?

None of this processed as he watched Lorcan, allowing his expression to fall into one of polite concern. Lorcan finally passed judgment over the information, and moved on to ask Caleb the question he had been hoping for, the question Camila had reminded him to always have a ready answer for.

He leaned back ever so slightly in his chair. "Well, I'm an Auror, so I know any moves made by Claire Bishop will be pretty immediately handed down to myself," he said. "She used to work for the Americans, so I'm certain she has a vested interest in this matter. Move by move, I'll know what actions the Ministry and, strained at the Auror department has become, I'm certain I'll be one of the first on the scene." He paused. There, he had explained what he could offer and how he did his work. Seal the deal with, "Honestly, I think I can bring whatever is told of me to bring. My intention is to help us get our hat back into the arena, and I'm capable enough to handle any number of tasks."

This turn of phrase sounded significantly more confident than the rest of his conversation, but there wasn't an arrogance that backed the words, more of a commitment. He knew he had just proven himself to be committed to the cause and he wanted Lorcan to know that he was self aware enough to understand himself to be an asset. He knew he could help and he was willing.

"I'll send Elkin off our reassurances," Lorcan said, temporarily waving off concerns about the Russian. He would not forget to send the owl to her, but it needed no more discussion here with Flint.

"Getting into Hogwarts is not a major problem," Lorcan said. "And I would presume that, at some point, the school is going to have to let an auror or two in to check how properly the approved means of transportation is operating. See if you can manage to get yourself into that select group, would you?
We need to find some way of getting to that school in the States. I can't imagine it would be anything but unplottable, so finding either the way the train disappeared or testing that ferry that was supposed to do the job seems to be the most obvious.

"That, and you should be able, I would think, to hear some snippet about who was to have created the original magic for the ferry to allow it to operate. I should think it would have taken a group of wizards or a powerful wizard, one or the other. It's not a simple matter. That might explain who might have had the means. That might also explain motive, and perhaps opportunity as well.

"We need to find a way to get a step ahead of the Ministry in this. See what you can do about that. You're industrious enough. I trust you can turn something up that would put us ahead in the game."

Caleb had to say... he had been a little hopeful that Lorcan might reveal the Death Eaters had some part in the dealings of Ilvermorny. He had been impressed by the mystery, thrilled by the power these unknown causers of mischief had taken from the people, and his interest had been piqued. Much as he would hate to find he had been left out of the plans, the news that this was a Death Eater trick might have reaffirmed his dedication.

The truth was, Caleb only wanted to solve the case if that was the only mystery there. No, if he had been told he could be let in on the side orchestrating the chaos... that was the side he was gunning for.

But, duty called. And Lorcan wanted him to be one of the Aurors to investigate Hogwarts, one of the few to make the trip over, and to keep his ear out.

"We're being told to focus back on Hogwarts while the Ministry collaborates with the Americans to figure out what to do at Ilvermorny," he said. "I may be able to extract some of the decisions made at that meeting before they enact them, however. And I'm certain I can be one of the Aurors to visit Hogwarts."

He paused, only slightly hesitant to reveal this news that he was not yet certain of. He supposed it would only make him more adamant to see it happen, however.

"There are rumors that Bishop might place a guard on Robert Lupin," Caleb said. "I'm sure my name is already high on her list, but I can ensure it is me."

"Good. Keep on top of that," Lorcan told him. "Let's see if we can't find a way to get in there and get our children back. We've functioned well for hundreds of years without second rate American wizard schools, and I don't see that we need them now. We need to send a clear message about that. England plays second to no one in magic education." He listened to Flint moving on to the next subject.

"What?" Lorcan frowned, listening to Flint tell him that there was talk of a bodyguard for Lupin. "Well, that's a day late and a quid short, isn't it? Is Bishop inept, or is there something we don't know? That's perhaps very significant.

"I don't know Lupin well, but I am observant. He's put himself in harm's way repeatedly for what he believes the greater good to be. Stupid Gryffindors, but that's neither here nor there. We've seen him hire guards for his family, but he's always operated without one. If he needed a guard, why would he not use his own staff, like he does for the rest of his house? And, if the talk seems to be more on Bishop's end of it than Lupins, that is even more interesting. That seems to suggest to me that she's initiating it. She's found reason to assert herself and her position to enact her privilege to protect him whether he likes it or not. Now, why would that need to be, Flint? And why now?"

He liked the idea that Flint was on the short list to be tapped to be on Lupin's protection detail. "Well done, Flint. We don't know much of anything about his personal life or his personal habits, what he likes, what he doesn't like. The extent of my knowledge of his personal habits is that he likes a pint and some fish and chips as well as any other self respecting Brit, which tells us nothing. And, from my one or two conversations with the man, he always seems to have a card or two up his sleeve, always knows a bit more than he tells. I bet he's a real bastard at chess or poker but that might be enlightening. His circle of family and friends seem to be unfailingly loyal, and he seems to be equally as committed to them. His estate and his daughter's are both unplottable. Not that we haven't tried. And that's about the extent of my knowledge, outside of what everyone else knows from the papers. If there is indeed this being created out of Bishop's office, we really do need to know more about why this security detail is coming about only just now. And maybe we need to know more about Bishop herself. Flint, just how indisposable can you make yourself, do you think?"

His mind was racing.  Bodyguard, bodyguard...he repeated in his head, thinking. Flint had to be not just a shadow in the corner. Flint needed a reason to get closer to his client-to-be. He looked at Flint again with a new idea in his mind. "Maybe...Just, maybe....How about I give you a piece of additional equipment that I'm guessing won't be standard equipment but might give you a leg up on the competition? I think I can maybe help you out a little." He went to the wet bar in his office and slid the wall sized bookcase over in front of it to reveal a small potions worktable and shelves of stocked potions and potions supplies.

"It's always handy in here to have a few first aid supplies," he told Flint. "I just replaced the credenza with a bigger piece, that's all. Some healers, potion makers, and a few of the higher paid private security experts all carry a few potions on them in a zippered leather pouch in the breastpocket of their suitcoats. I would imagine a man like Lupin would find it a necessity. I have a couple spare pouches here for missions work. I can outfit one for you with, maybe ten different one-time vials of potions and, perhaps two vials for some other necessities--like bandages shrunken into the vials. Every bodyguard should certainly be able to anticipate the worst, after all, right?" He smiled, rather liking being able to give Flint a hand. He filled ten small thin vials with one time doses of the most commonly needed potions in an emergency--pain potion, coagulant potion to stop bleeding, antitoxin for most common poisons, and several others. He took two large rolls of bandages and shrank them small enough so that each one fit into one of the two extra vials. He put them into the slots and then handed the open pouch for Flint to inspect.

"Do you think this might be useful for your purposes?" Lorcan asked.