A Friend of a Friend

Michael wasn't into the whole Halloween party gig. It just wasn't his style. He had taken to his sitting room and had poured himself a brandy and lit a pipe. The tobacco was a wonderful french tobacco that he had gotten the last time he was in Paris. The tobacco had been soaked in the finest French brandy available. It smelled divine, or at least Michael thought so.

It was a bit crisp outside tonight, and that made the castle damp and chilly, so he was enjoying the fire and a first edition of a Dickens book. One of his favorites. He'd summoned Otto to fufill his duties as an ottoman. He was the only person he knew who owned enchanted furniture. Otto was a black leather ottoman who believed he was a cocker spaniel, and while the pink chintz footstool didn't go with the decor, it was Otto's made, Faline, and she could not be left behind. They had the run of Michael's suite of rooms in the castle. He had fed them each their nightly dinner of a pair of black dress socks, and had bought them a pair of pink lace ones as a treat. Faline had one sock and Otto had the other.

Michael warmed the brandy appropriately and swirled it in the snifter before taking a sip of it. Even that damninable Zada Forbes had apparently decided to take a night off from throwing her weight around. Perhaps the woman could find other things to do after all. It was a good night to be in and enjoying just a peaceful night.

Sabriel somehow managed to awaken just hours before dawn.

Good. At least his body still recognized he had other crap to do besides lounging under a comforter all night.

His fever had broke sometime since he'd passed out, leaving him exhausted and disoriented. He struggled to assimilate his thoughts; his mind was still hazy and sluggish. It was almost synonymous to sailing at sea. He was lost on the currents, searching for the land that was his memory and rationale.

Sabriel sat up. Or, at least he tried to. The room swam dizzily and for a moment Sabriel suspected he had fallen out of the bed and onto the floor. When everything fell back into place, however, he was on his feet with the intent to go to the lavatory.

"Jesus," he whispered mildly, tugging his hair lethargically away from his face. "That was .. something." Apparently, that had been a particularly devastating fever last night, and although he did not vomit, it managed to destroy his cognition momentarily. But the proof of Khaat's existence laid on his right hand. The gold ring she had given him had barely shined in the moonlight, but it was there.

And the Italian Euro coin that was balancing in his pocket reminded him of his current task. After his shower, he felt much better. Sabriel exited the Fourth Year Ravenclaw dormitories and the Ravenclaw house altogether. It was a nice little walk to get to the first floor (even nicer when he noticed Peeve's uncharacteristic absence), and along the way Sabriel pondered what he was going to do once he reached Professor Tremaine's chambers. Khaat seemed certain the man would believe him, but once again Sabriel felt a familiar apprehension rise inside of him.

He stopped just short of the door. For some reason, his heart was hammering in his chest. He did not take this class. What kind of person was Professor Tremaine? Strict? Unwelcoming? Would he report him for being out of bed in the middle of the night? Oh, how he struggled to be rational! If Tremaine was such a horrible person, surely Khaat would have warned him.

He raised a delicate, petite hand and knocked on the door.

A knock? At this hour? That was unusual. And the faint knock reeked of timidity. he wasn't sure if they were just naturally timid or afraid they might wake him. Waking him? Not really possible. Being a night owl was just part of his personality. He flicked his fingers at the door, motioning it to open. "Come," he called in his usual strong and friendly tone. He glared at Otto and Faline, ordering them silently to act as furniture for the moment until he knew if it was alright to betray who they were to him.

Michael saw a thin, smallish figure in the doorway. "Come in, Boy," Michael invited, motioning. "I don't bite. Come and sit and tell me what has you up at such an hour." The boy looked perhaps a bit too young to be in his workshop. That raised his curiosity. And when he clearly recognized the veela features, that raised his curiosity even more. The wispy lad peeked Michael's curiosity. But Michael never turned anyone away whho genuinely needed help. Never. And a knock in the middle of the night, veela or not, almost always meant a need for help.

He snapped his fingers at a shelf with some mugs on it. "Oi!" he called to the mugs. "Wake up. We have a guest, you slackers. Get over here. Two of you. Now." He looked back at the boy. "My tea mugs have forgotten their manners. But there is some rather excellent Earl Grey on the hearth if that interests you." He knew that the veela he had known when he was in school was always cold. She was constantly carrying a tea mug, it seemed. The tea mugs seemed to bounce down off the shelf and waddled rather quickly over to the end tables near the two wing chairs that flanked the fire. One bounced up on Michael's table and the other bounced up on the end table next to the empty chair.

To say that Sabriel was caught off-guard was an understatement. His gray eyes were wide. His pale blonde hair had fallen into his face again. He had assumed Khaat had a deep connection with this man, but Michael Tremaine had an overall welcoming aura that shadowed a slightly eccentric character. For many people, it would be easy to like him. For Sabriel, however, he found his words caught in his throat.

"I ..." When the door had swung open, Sabriel had his fist still raised in a knocking gesture. Now, he lowered it. There was a man directly ahead of him, presumably Professor Tremaine. He was slightly wizened, with silvery hair and brows. Professor Tremaine carried an almost fatherly atmosphere that had Sabriel feeling vaguely uncomfortable. At the call of his voice, Sabriel stepped in and took a seat. He offered Professor Tremaine a smile.

"I apologize for coming so early." He wrung his hands around, unsure how to form his words. "Um. Are you professor Tremaine?" Sabriel had to stop himself from going any further. If this was not Professor Tremaine, and he began to delineate his entire encounter with Khaat, he would be putting her in danger. He reached into his pocket, fingering the Euro coin a little awkwardly.

"I am," Michael said. He studied the boy. The veela was here deliberately. Michael knew espionage better than he knew his own name. He wasn't sure why the boy had been sent here. Maybe the boy didn't either. He flicked his fingers at the door to shut it.

"It would seem to me that we perhaps do not want people like Ms. Forbes overhearing us tonight, do we?" Michael asked. "You're safe here. Relax. Then,..." Michael said, motioning the cast iron kettle on the hearth to pour the Earl Grey tea for them both. "when you feel a bit more at ease, start at the beginning. Tell me who you are and who sent you. We'll eventually get around to how I can help you, I'm sure." He was about to say something else when Otto got an itch and lost its ability to simply be only furniture. The black leather ottoman used its hindleg to scratch its belly. "Otto! Manners!" Michael sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "The castle air is getting to my dog...well, yeah. Dog. It thinks its a dog, anyway," he said, not having good words to describe any footstool that believed it was a cocker spaniel.

Sabriel jolted a little, half-expecting the chair he currently sat in to start chasing its tail. When nothing happened and the ottoman continued to placate its itch, Sabriel allowed a little giggle to escape him. "I would say it is as good as any I know," he told him. He gave Tremaine a disarming smile. "Your dog .. furniture .. is cute."

It was something Tremaine said .. ah yes -- ! That little comment about Forbes. Forbes was someone not to be trusted, and apparently Tremaine regarded that piece of information well. Sabriel took the Italian Euro coin out of his pocket. It was simple, worn and old. Not special at all. He held it out to Tremaine. Khaat said that he would recognize the coin instantly, and so Sabriel left the rest up to him.

"I had gone to bed," he began. "But when I woke up, I was in a garden. There were trees with flowers. Khaat had called it the Garden of Solace." He thought of his nightrobes, and how chilly he had been in the garden with nothing but them covering him. He thought of how Khaat had warmed him with her cider and closeness and kind words, and it was this detachment that made it easier for him to speak with Sir Tremaine.

"Khaat and I exchanged formalities, and she told me a little bit about herself and the garden. She had her theories as to how I might have come to be there. She gave me cider. We discussed things briefly, and with the more things she said, the more I came to remember. Then, realized who she was. Khaat Lupin. I was actually talking to Khaat Lupin! After my initial shock, she explained her situation. Described her family. I like her."

Sabriel felt a little embarrassed admitting his affection for the woman. Of course the feelings were purely platonic, but Sabriel was never very confident with describing his emotions. He recalled the dark nights he was punished for playing with puppies, arranging flowers, reading romance novels and the like. It was those nights that his mother was suddenly blind to everything. But he felt a little better knowing that this was Khaat. So unlike Bellrose; Khaat would have defended him.

"She gave me a few ideas about my future. I asked her about her life, and she told me. All about hiding, Grindlewald. In return, I told her about mine. Eventually I inquired about my grandfather. He was a man named Theodore Ruppet, and he had been a Death Eater. I was there when he was caught, though .. " His voice trailed off. Privately, he berated himself. You've come so far! Don't stop now!

"I was there when he was .. murdered. But I did not know most of the details or reasons since I was six at the time. Khaat helped me reconnect with those memories. Now I finally understand. She offered to help cure my ailments as well. She gave me this coin to help find you. She also warned me about Forbes. Zada Forbes. We agreed to meet this weekend at Hogsmeade." He smiled at the memory. "She owes you some chocolate fudge, yes?"

His tone then darkened. He remembered how the bright moments ended. So abruptly, he was thrown out of Khaat's world and back into his own. He remembered the last words she'd spoken to him. "Well, suddenly Khaat had gotten tense.

"She urged me to do something .. to go! Yes. And when she told me to leave, I knew it was serious, so I did run. I ran until I tripped and fell and blacked out. My presence could have gotten her killed. But even now I am guilty for it. I woke up in my bed last night. I do not know what happened to Khaat. A part of me feels like I have abandoned her. Please, Professor Tremaine, do you know how to find out of Khaat is all right? I thank you from the very depths of my heart, whether I am assisted or not."

Michael listened to Sabriel and took the coin. He looked at it carefully. "Yes," he said. "I know this coin. You did see her. You were with her. Only she could have given this particular coin to you. Keep it. Its not magical, but it might come in handy later on. I see she gave you Brian's ring too. Good girl. She must have indeed trusted you to give you that.

"Let me explain just a moment, in that case. I know the Lupin family well. I went to school with Khaat's father and her famous uncle, Remus. Her father is my best friend, and I am Khaat's godfather. There are few people in this world she trusts more. But then I presume she may have told you that you would be safe with me or you would not have come. Alright. As to your question about her safety, I feel quite certain that she's alright, but let's find out, shall we?" He took a bit of floo powder and put just a tiny pinch in the fireplace letting a few sparks rise up.

"Ozzy!" he called. "Ozzy, answer me, you old codger."

"And exactly who are you calling an old codger, you old bat," a voice replied out of the flames.

"Everything alright? Everyone accounted for?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes. Make sure there was no trouble."

"Its all fine," the voice replied and the extra flames vanished. Michael turned back and looked at Sabriel.

"That was her father, Robert. The man who is legally our minister of magic. He says he has her and that she's fine. He is not denying there was trouble. He is admitting it. But he says she's there with him and she's safe. Khaat would have most likely used her portkey to simply escape the trouble by porting back to the safehouse. So--you can relax about that. She is unharmed. But, so that you know, she can fight if it comes to it. Her father and her uncle trained her from the age she was old enough to hold a stick about how to duel. Her husband is an auror and trains aurors. He is also an athlete and insists that Khaat keep in good physical condition.

"I am quite sure that if she said she wanted to help you by meeting you in Hogsmeade then she will keep her word. And yes, she owes me several pounds of dark chocolate fudge from Honeydukes," he laughed. "Her father and I let a boggart out in there once to send the kids out screaming so we could swipe the fudge for ourselves. That was rather fun." He grinned. "We don't do that often but every so often a practical joke can be a bit of fun.

"You were wise to come here, Lad. She gave you much valuable information. You must keep out of the spotlight. Don't call any attention to yourself so that Grindlewald or Forbes or any of their lackies are interested in you. If you are important to her, then you are also important to me," he said firmly.

The relief Sabriel felt was immense. He leaped out his seat and trotted over to the man. "Thank you so very much!" he said happily. Khaat was safe! What a relief! "Oh she was right. You are wonderful man."

He stopped and blushed heavily. He was being inconsiderate; all in this man's personal space. "I am sorry," she said. Sabriel shuffled back a few feet, once more putting a more comfortable distance between them. "It's just .. Khaat is the nicest person I have met. She helped me a lot. I needed solace. To know she was all right. And I got to meet you. I suppose this is called 'killing too birds with one stone'. She holds you in high regards."

"Sit," Michael said. "You can relax and be comfortable here. Let's talk about why Khaat sent you to me, then, shall we? She wanted you to have someone you could be yourself with who would also be close to you--close enough to help protect you. Let's face it. Veelas have a great many assets but combat is not necessarily one of them. She wanted you to have someone who would have your back. That would be me. And if I'm going to be your bodyguard, then you need to be comfortable around me. Well, and that means you'll need to know Otto and Faline too. I would hate to have to explain to Doyle that my furniture bit you or something.

"Otto. Faline. Go meet Sabriel. He is a friend," Michael told the black leather footstool and its pink chintz footstool mate. The two furniture dogs went over to Sabriel, sniffing him to check him out. Michael caught the sight of the hatrack peeking around the corner at Sabriel.

"That," Michael gestured at the hatrack, "is Snidely. He loves hats and jackets and practical jokes. Oh, and yes, I almost forgot--poker. He loves to play poker. He'll swipe your hat or your coat and run off with it as a practical joke. But he'll give it back--eventually. Remember your manners, you overgrown matchstick" he told the hatrack. The hatrack came out rather timidly. "He's a friend of Khaat's," Michael reassured Snidely. The hatrack seemed to be waiting for the dogs to be done being excited about a new friend.

Sabriel sat. A bodyguard? Sabriel had tutors, nurses and even servants back at the manor. But a bodyguard was definitely new. He smiled demurely at Tremaine. Truly, the man was not bad at all. He rather liked him. Tremaine did have some peculiar furniture though.

Currently Otto and Faline found great interest in the white silk pants he kept under his school robes. He wondered what spell had enchanted them. Made them so endearing. He decided he loved them. It was the closest thing he'd ever come to owning a pet. Sabriel reached down experimentally ran his fingers over the top of the ottoman.

The hatrack was feeling a little neglected. Sabriel offered it a polite smile.

"I think," he began, "That I love them. I would love to assist you and Khaat. I would love to have you as my bodyguard."