Convergence of Chance

Jack strolled Diagon Alley, seeking some sort of pass time during the down time at Weasley's. It was one of those days where only a few customers could be found every few hours. During this time, Jack left the store in the capable hands of her employees and strolled the street, making sure all was in order. So often, Jack's nose for trouble often put her in the right place at the right time to do some good in the world. Little walks like these were what helped her do good for the world, as simple as they seemed.

She felt a little better. If she really thought about it, yes, she would probably sink under anxiety and frustration. Yes, she finally had the power to do some good in the Order, but no one but her seemed to give a shit. She was going to have to light a fire under each individual member's ass personally if she ever wanted to accomplish something.

And then there was the worry that Katrina-Carlotta du Hunt seemed to be trying to steal some allies. Starting with one of Jack's only friends. Someone needed to keep an eye on her.

She looked up, and was reminded that not every coincidence in her life was a terrible one. There sat Matthew Cunningham, relaxing outside of a small bistro, licking an ice cream cone. She immediately swerved, approaching the table. "Hello, Matthew. Could I join you?"

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Matthew was browsing. With the daily prophet under his arm he slowly waltzed down the near empty streets of Diagon Alley taking a look through every window that he passed by. Lots of the shops were still having sales. Out with the old in with the new he figured. The new year, so far, appeared as dreary as the previous one. Plenty of death, plenty of war, but Matthew dare not get anymore involved in that sort than he needed to be. He drew the line many years ago and would not step over it again. No, not again.

As he passed the new ice cream shop he paused and walked backward looking through the window again. Through the glimmer of the glass he spotted a particularly vibrant colour of ice cream that look oddly appealing. Licking his lips he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and entered the little shop.

Moments later, Matthew exited the ice cream parlour with a healthy amount of bright purple ice cream. It smelled like a combination of lavender and oranges. Unfortunately, there were no tables outside the shop to enjoy the beautiful weather. He began to walk down the massive stretch that was Diagon Alley once again and took the very first lick of his ice cream. It was one of the most delicious things that Matthew had ever tasted.

A little longer down the stretch Matthew found a nice little place to sit down and enjoy his ice cream and newspaper. There were very few people in Diagon Alley on this day and there were plenty of seats to choose from. Of course it took him longer than it should have to pick his seat. It had appeared as though he had chosen the wrong seat. Just as he unfolded his newspaper he heard a very familiar voice. Never a good thing, to hear a voice you don't want to hear.

It was Jack Dyllan, leader of the Order. He had never really associated himself with her all that much. Never spoken out during an Order meeting. Never gone out with anyone really in the Order. He simply stood in the background and participated when necessary. Did she really have to say hello now? Admitting defeat, Matt smiled and looked up at her.

"Oh, uhm, of course, absolutely." he said hurriedly. He quickly folded his paper back together and licked his ice cream which had began to drip. He probably looked like a slob. She had picked an absolutely horrid time. Well, it was never a good time for Matt. He looked at her as she sat down and gave a quick smile, not saying anything.

He quickly allowed her to join his company, though the hint of hesitation lightened the edges of his statement. She quirked an eyebrow but, nonetheless, pulled out a chair and sat across from him. A waitress walked by and asked if Jack would like anything. She shrugged. "Why not? I'll take a cola." The waitress jotted down the order and flounced off, sure to return quickly.

Jack turned forward. Matthew was quiet in meetings, and she didn't know much about him - relatively nothing. Alright, she knew nothing of him. It just seemed so strange. He looked vaguely like an old friend of hers, one that shared the same name and everything. Perhaps this what made her mind spark the idea of trying to enlist his help in a more hands-on way.

"How have you been, Matthew?" she asked, trying to ease her way into the conversation. They had never spoken out of Grimmauld Place, after all. Couldn't just jump in with a 'want to help on a top-secret mission' could she? ...Could she?

He was in for it now. She had ordered a drink; past the point of no return. Oh boy, here we go.

He avoided eye contact with the waitress but gave a weak smile as she walked away. He was incredibly interested with the taste of the ice cream cone in front of him. He didn't have to start the conversation. He would wait for her to start it. Maybe she really just wanted a place to sit. That didn't mean she wanted to actually have a conversation. He didn't do that sort of thing with people he didn't really know. Too much vulnerability with revealing information about himself. She knew his name; as far as he was concerned that's all she needed.

But of course, as this train of thought left the station she spoke and it went running off the tracks in a fiery blaze of glory. He held back a sigh and plastered the fake smile on his face. One of his better talents, it's not easy to spot one of his fake smiles. He'd been working on them for decades and nobody had ever seen through them. "Oh, I'm...good." he said, pausing before he finished. He licked his ice cream cone once again. He still couldn't quite put his finger on what flavour. It was on the tip of his tongue. He chuckled to himself at the thought of his own joke. He was a funny man when he wasn't trying. Anything but Order business. Actually nothing would be better, he thought.

He said relatively nothing. She bobbed her head. "Good... good." Jack appeared to be far in thought. And of course she was - she had a lot riding on her. Once again. Matthew did not seem particularly engaged, but Jack had been thinking about drawing him in deeper into the Order. This could be her first step. He was one of the older members. He should have some sort of wisdom to help assist them And thus far, he was almost completely uninvolved, always riding in the background.

She looked up at him, a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. "Do you know Katrina-Carlotta du Hunt?" Most people knew the woman famous as an assassin. Matt had probably heard of her in his time - she just needed more information.

Alas, his silent plea's for help went unnoticed as they always did. As much as he tried he couldn't drown her out. He might as well humour the girl a little bit. She was determined though, he'd give her that. He gave up on finding something interesting in his ice cream and looked at Jack. "I've heard of her." he told her. "I haven't been to the past couple meetings due to personal problems." He had been to see a therapist about some breakdowns he'd been having. His emotions where getting the better of him and he needed to control himself better.

"But from what I've gathered she's a very nasty woman." he said and he grinned at her and lifted his gaze off her. He licked his ice cream cone again and watched the clouds for a few moments. The wind had began to pick up a bit. It was a nice breeze in the hot air. It was nearly June and school would be out. All of his favourite spots would be overrun with teenagers and children not at school. He dreaded the day he sat down to eat his ice cream and have some child start crying over nothing.

"Katrina-Carlotta du Hunt is the leader of the Death Eaters. Henceforth, I have never met her, nor do I want to ever meet her." he told her in a very direct way. He stopped speaking and looked at her. "Of course, that's all my pure speculation. But it doesn't take a genius to tie two and two together. Someone that skilled capable of doing the things she does doesn't go unnoticed and craves power." He paused, and he looked at her again. "But, I have a feeling that is exactly why you decided to pick a conversation with me. Isn't it?" he asked her.

Jack listened as he said all she had already known. Of course, everyone knew she wasn't the most liked woman ever. You didn't cause the deaths and pain of so many people and not make enemies among the large numbers of people that fell into the category of either family or friend to the victim.

But she quirked an eyebrow at his conclusion. Of course, this was the thing that had led Jack to seek information - that and the woman's strange influence over her Potter friend. But Jack had seen du Hunt as the potentially most dangerous enemy to the Order of the Phoenix, and the possibility of her being the leader of their rival group became more likely with each day that passed. Even if she wasn't, Jack still considered her quite a threat.

"I've been thinking along the same lines," Jack said, "though there is no proof of course. We can't declare her as such in case that is the strategy they are trying to play us at." She smiled, her eyes sparking with the fire of business. "Naturally. I was thinking we needed someone to get a bit closer to her. She's on the tame side right now, trying to keep a lower figure, so I'm sure she's beginning to cast a wide net for her personal society. I think we need to start getting information from her. I thought your experience might be of use."

He had never seen the woman so as far as he was concerned he could be acquainted with her already. Which would really make the statement he made about knowing her false. But then again ther was a greater chance that he didn't know her. Not that he ever really associated with anyone outside of work or...anywhere really. He didn't mind, he enjoyed the lack of drama.

If Matt had a drink he would have spit it out all over Jack's face. Whatever disease that had infected Jack's brain intrigued him. She had clearly gone 'round the bend and had no intention of coming back. His face froze with his eyebrows up and eyes wide, a look of shock. He was incapable of movement for the time being as his brain began to work overtime to process her request. She would, no doubt, assume he was dead. But the cogs began to turn inside his head, slowly at first, but soon picking up speed.

Inside the mind of the estranged man ran several hundred tracks of trains containing various thoughts. It was the way he found it easiest to think and block out people from entering his brain. A "Mind Palace" was the correct term. Except it was more like one gigantic train station. Anyway, the train processing the information he had just taken in was travelling at full speed and crashing into all the other trains. This went on for about a minute before it stopped. He had weighed all the pros and all the cons.

"Why me?" he asked as he finally entered reality once again. "I'm sure there's other people who are just as skilled as I am.."

((Mind palace. XD Nice))

He didn't say much, though she hadn't really expected him to say more than necessary. Though she would have expected from others normal questions like 'what would you want me to do' or 'how could I go about this' he asked a question that really exposed who he was more than she thought he knew.

By asking why him, he was seeking some sort of validation. Was it not enough that he was the eldest of the group, excepting the elderly folks in the Order? Or that he had been in the organisation longer than most? She quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?" was all she asked. She honestly wanted to hear why he could not consider himself capable of the mission.

(Why thank you )

What a stereotypical answer to respond with. Matthew was let down a little bit. He expected a bit more of a challenge. Then again when he thought about it the choices really were limited. The number of inexperienced witches and wizards in the Order was growing immensely. He was one of few members with more than ten years of service. In his case he was soon going to hit twenty. He couldn't believe that he was actually rationalizing this decision in a positive manner. Sure he had the experience but that didn't necessarily translate perfectly to skill.

His brain was working overdrive thinking this through. Maybe it was her plan, get him to rationalize it for himself. She knew he could, he knew he could. The problem was he didn't want to. But it's what came with being in the Order. Twenty years of service to the Order of the Phoenix and not once had he ever been called upon for a specialized mission. Maybe that was why he was one of the only ones left around his own age. His brain was making this incredibly difficult to turn down. It was his duty but he didn't want it. But he also did want it. It was a challenge and he loved challenges.

"I'm not overly skilled in anything." he told her blatantly. "I mean..." he broke off into thought again. His eyes grew tired and his face fell. "The only thing I've ever really advanced in was..." he didn't want to finish his statement. He was uncomfortable already, he wasn't going to open his doors to just anyone. With several quick thoughts he continued the sentence almost flawlessly "defensive magic. And that really isn't going to do too much for anyone..." He was going to mention his acting skills and control over his own mind. No, that would be too much information to share.