Dark Waters

Michael ported into London, in front of Grimmauld long before the sun had risen, his pack on his shoulder and a roll of duct tape slid over his wrist. He looked at the flat and sighed.  He hadn't been here for ages. What he wouldn't have given to have been able to open the door and find Sirius still here. That all seemed a world away now, and Michael couldn't imagine Sirius liking what was going on now in their world.

He went up the steps and opened the door. Walburga was poised to begin to shriek already. He sighed. Some things never changed. He tore a piece off the roll of duct tape and slapped it over the mouth of the screechy old crone.  She started to try to mutter something in his direction that sounded a lot like obscenities. He cast her a satisfied smile and walked through the house, shivering.

"Damn, Jack," he muttered.  "Forgot to pay the heat, did you?"  It was definitely cold in the flat. He fired his wand at the hearth to start a fire and then went to the kitchen. At this hour, tea was a requirement. He put the kettle on and then opened his pack. Despite the grim events and his own personal discomfort with the business proposal he had for her, he was hungry.  

Before long, he had the pastry dough he'd brought baking into homemade cinnamon rolls. He had crispy bacon in one skillet and eggs in another. He checked the clock. Jack was rarely late.  He flicked his wand at the kitchen cabinets.

"Oi!" He said, dispensing with fancy spells, "Look sharp. It's time to eat. Set the table for two."  The dishes snapped to attention and sprang out of the cabinets and began to arrange themselves in proper places.

He paused, frowning a moment. Why did it always bother him to involve her? She certainly wasn't a child anymore, after all.

((Sorry. I thought it had posted, and it didn’t. Then.. I lost the post. Sigh))

It was shameful how long it had been since Jack had last stepped foot into Number Four Grimmauld Place.

Jack would have felt more guilty about it if there was something she could have done, but she had long come to terms with the fact that maybe there really wasn’t anything. The place held too much unresolved feelings for Jack. She had practically given up on the Order, which she was supposed to be leading. She had tried – not only had she tried, but she had done. When no one else had seemed willing, she had gone out to collect information. She had attempted to recruit elders that had knowledge, and then had attempted to recruit young people who had enthusiasm. She had let in Potter’s Army. She had given incentives – as if justice and freedom had not been enough of one. She had set out and done the tasks that she had initially given out to several people, and had done them on her own. On her left arm was the Dark Mark, the permanent mark of the lengths she had gone in an attempt to do the duties that the Order of the Phoenix was supposed to do.

In the end, it had not been enough for the others. Nothing she did could inspire them. Nothing she did could reason them into doing what they had all sworn to do. Jack had come back after the last meeting. In fact, she had only been inside of the Headquarters once after the last meeting of The Order of the Phoenix, and even that had been a shamefully long time ago. She had not left the house better than she had entered it. Stools had been smashed, walls had been punched, glass had been shattered. She had sat among the wreckage, lifelessly looking at the kitchen table where Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black and the Weasley family had sat at the table, willing to risk their lives for the good of everyone around them. And Jack hadn’t been able to convince people to take time off work to get a scheduled meeting time.

It had left her with haunting questions, questions she could only hope the answers to. She had wondered whether or not she truly was meant to lead – perhaps she had always been meant to be a rogue, a lone wolf. She had wondered whether people had just stopped caring, or was it ignorance that kept them from seeing the danger they were all in. Or had she let them rely on her too much? Had she done so much that they assumed she had it handled?

Jack had proven in the last few months that she was not cut out to be anyone’s savior. She was struggling just to support her family, let alone a country. The marriage law had incensed her at first, before her own personal demons had sunk their claws into her soul and dragged her away from matters of marriages and politics. The woman had only resurfaced, and the rage was growing, but it was restless. Back when she had worked for the Ministry, she had always had a plan. Now, she barely had a direction, let alone a plan.

So what a happy coincidence it was that Michael Tremaine had asked her to meet with him.

She crept quietly through the landing, making it past the racist portrait unscathed. She passed through the familiar rooms and familiar halls, feeling the presences of people long gone all around her. She beat the well-worn path to the kitchen, the place where the greats had tried to save the world, the place where she had tried to keep the attention of those who thought they had better things to do than to overturn corruption. In the place of those ghosts was Michael Tremaine, orchestrating the setting of the table. Her shoulder leaned against the doorway as she rested. “I hope I’m not here for a lecture. I’ve been good – and I’m really trying to correct that, so don’t be too hasty to tell me off for it.”

He smiled, hearing her voice.  He took the cinnamon rolls out of the oven and set them on the countertop to cool.

"I thought you might be getting frustrated about now," he said.  "Its good to see you too.  But I didn't ask you here to question your skills.  Quite the contrary.  Much as I'd like to avoid dragging you into the shadows with me, I'm here to make you an offer.  I'm afraid this needs just a tad of background first in order for you to be up to speed, though." He motioned to a place at the table. "Sit."  

He poured the tea for both of them and set the mugs on the table.  "One moment," he said. He made quick work of swirling the white sugar icing over the cinnamon rolls, letting it gently melt down the sides of each roll.  He plated them and put them on the table.

Then he took the skillets and dished up eggs and bacon on each plate, setting the skillets in the sink. He was about to sit when he heard Walburga attempt to raise her mumblings into loud groanings.  

"Oh, for the love of..." he rolled his eyes.  He flipped open the backpack. "Hiss, do go drag her up to the attic, would you? She's annoying the shit out of me.  With a little luck, you'll find a bottle of paint thinner to spill on her."  

The rope slithered out of the pack, saluted Michael obediently, then appeared to see Jack.  It raised up a bit in surprise and then slithered up to brush her cheek affectionately before sliding out of the room towards the foyer.

"I always thought he had a crush on you," Michael said.  He sat down at the other place at the table.  "The cinnamon rolls are best while they're hot. Eat.  I know the answer to this question already, but how deep are you willing to go with me into the cesspool if we are to try to stop this?"

He needed people he could trust right now.  And those were precious resources that were running out.  He was torn between wanting them to shield them and wanting them in the fight along with him.  He had had no choice but to ask for the latter.

OOC: I had the same problem. I had to rewrite my first post 3x for the same reason.  LOL

Michael Tremaine really was the classiest brand of criminal Jack had ever met. She didn’t have nearly as much class when she went on her, well, her rampages. She simply wasn’t delicate enough to have any sort of finesse. She had been told she did have a certain charm to her way of handling things, a certain trademark – typically an explosive one – that people seemed to appreciate. But Michael Tremaine was the type of guy to make you an almost gourmet breakfast so that he could discuss matters or revolution and political upstart.

The spell of cinnamon buns was beginning to get overwhelming, but she remained comfortably against the doorway, watching her friend. It had been a shamefully long time since she had seen Michael Tremaine too – wow, today was a day of guilt, wasn’t it? She had not stopped caring, of course. If she had ever heard any news of him needing assistance, she would have been there. But casual discussions about pranking had gone out the window when she had inherited a little six-year-old ball of loud sunshine and all the troubles that followed.

He bade her sit and she pushed from her spot at the doorway, pulling a chair out and collapsing into it. She pulled her tea towards her (only slightly disappointed that it wasn’t liquor, thanks to her Sobriety Captain Max Morrison) and took a long drink, letting the warmth fill her up. She shuddered a bit at a touch and pulled the mug away in time to see Michael’s ropey-little friend dance off. She smirked at his words. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

She looked down at the feast before her. When she had lived with Nemo, and in the periods of solitude before and after that, her breakfasts had pretty much been leftovers and protein bars. With young’uns in the home, now, she strove to cook real food in the mornings, but only so much could be done with terrible cooking skills. “Aye, aye, captain,” she said, beginning to fill her plate. Today had been a cereal sort of day anyway, so she had not eaten.

He got right into it, and she was glad. She was terrible with waits. Swallowing a bit of cinnamon bun, she said, “I’ve got a family to take care of now, so I can’t do anything that brings any major harm to them. But, Azkaban or maiming – I’m not too worried about. Consider me game, really.”

OOC: you might not have noticed b/c we haven't made a formal announcement of it yet, but we've clarified the divisions in the law enforcement dept in order to move site plot forward.  that's where Michael's info is coming from. we're hoping that creates more action in a lot of ways. probably going to post an announcement tomorrow for that.

"Jack," he said, taking his time, "let me try to cover a bit of ground. We've tried to keep this a bit quiet, so I don't know how much you know. But Thaor is gone. Really gone, this time.  We're still putting the pieces together, but I think Thaor was set up."

He added cream and sugar to his tea, stirred, and took a sip before continuing.  Thaor's death had been painful for him, and for multiple reasons.

"Before he died, he shared a memory thread with us.  A memory of being fired upon a year or so ago--ambushed.  It was after that he seemed to all of us to lose his sanity.  It was after that that he committed all those crimes. Thaor was bewitched somehow, and its not a curse or a potion that we can find anywhere in all we know.

"Thaor was responsible for trying to kill Robert.  But the truth is that somehow the curse is transmissible.  He passed it to Robert, unintentionally we think.  But he must have miscast whatever spell he was using because how it is showing up in Robert is not at all how is showed up in Thaor.

"Robert's mind is completely intact, but until the curse is reversed, he needs to isolate himself a bit. However, it is impossible that the Marriage Law could have been issued within hours, literally, of the assassination attempt without someone inside the Ministry who had the law written up and in motion beforehand.

"They needed Robert out of the way because they knew he wouldn't consider such ridiculousness. In short, I think Thaor was used to get Robert out of the way to damage the Ministry from the inside.

"We need to get operatives on the inside, undercover, to try to smoke out who is behind this.  Before we get down to details, are you up for joining a team for a little espionage?  I can't possibly promise you that there won't be danger. You know that. What I can promise you is that we have the ability to hide your family, if we need to, in an unplottable location that is off the Ministry grid and is completely off their records."

((Sounds good!))

Jack listened intently. She had begun eating, but now found her food was being terribly neglected, as well as the tea. Her hand was wrapped around the mug, growing warmer and warmer as she listened, the skin between to turn pink and smooth from the heat.  This was a lot of new information for her. She had known about Robert, but it had been a long time since that news had really affected her. She had been so lost in her own bull for the past few weeks that she had forgotten all about her absentee Minister.

Things were making more sense though. Loads more. It all seemed more logical when there seemed to be thinking behind it. The motivations of doing this all to bolster the magical population seemed a little ridiculous still, but it at least made more sense how things had come to such a terrible point. Whoever was acting in Robert’s place was certainly doing him an injustice – Jack briefly wondered how the relationship between Elijah Krum and the Lupins was doing through all of this. She hoped they were beginning to see the weasel in him.

Thaor. Jack had sort of avoided the truth of that whole situation. Avoided the fact that he was gone – strangely enough, she had thought she would be there when he went down. She knew it was going to happen in her lifetime, he had been on such a strange spiral downwards, after all. That he was just gone was a difficult concept for her to handle. Even now, it was not really processing through her head.

She tipped her head, drawn from her thoughts by his question. “I’m willing. You know me, I’m not always great with a team, but I’ll do what needs doing.” She paused. “I think they’ll be fine at home. I’ve recently bolstered the house with more protection. I may want someone to watch my cousin when she goes to Hogwarts. I don’t trust that school, and my teaching job isn’t even part time. I can’t keep an eye on her.”

He reached in his pocket and drew out his Ministry credentials and laid them on the table. It read that he was assigned to the Department of Mysteries.  

"That's a bit too thin a farce, even for me, don't you think?" he asked. "Can't you just see me holed up with all those prophesies, studying all sorts of abstract wizarding concepts? I'm supposed to be authenticating valuable historical wizarding artifacts, and sometimes I even get to do that.  Rarely, though. Supposedly, I've been doing it for decades.  'Make damned good money for a bean counter, don't I?"

"The flat out truth is that Robert knows I'm here. I'm actually here on his behalf.  I'm an Unspeakable, Jack. And we are the intelligence force for wizarding England. To the rest of the wizarding world, we don't exist. We were all recruited either because of our special skills or because we had the brains and the drive to learn and to fight. Not surprisingly, a lot of us were Gryffindors. That's supposedly coincidence, but it takes one hell of a lot to ask someone to give up so much of themselves, keep international secrets and be willing to die for them.

"In the current situation, Robert is having to rely on an alliance of his own staff, his allies, and the Unspeakables. We report to Robert and no one else. And I do mean no one. Not the Head of Law Enforcement, not even the Deputy Minister.

"Our task will be to find out who is on the level in the Ministry and who is not. And, even if Robert didn't have to contend with the curse, personally, I wouldn't be in favor of his going back to work full time.  That would only make our enemy go deeper underground. The more time we can buy, I think he may become more and more bold about it. That will make him easier to identify and perhaps catch.

"As for your family, Robert has more than one off grid safehouse. Its very simple, if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. And he will make sure we have whatever we need to operate unhindered. Off the top of my head, I have a couple of thoughts on how to keep an eye on your cousin, but I'd need to firm that up a bit.

"I'm here to recruit you to join the Unspeakables to do intelligence and espionage for your country," he said seriously.

As Michael explained his career, a lot of connections were made. Now that made more sense. The only real professional burglar she knew was Gabby Short, and even he was not much of a career man. No, that sort of job always coaxed out a different job title, and it did not come as any surprise to Jack that Michael had been made an Unspeakable. It had been one of the few departments that Jack actually trusted to do its job. Now that she had left the Magical Creatures department, she had doubts in it, and she had never put much stock in the Aurors.

She had remembered doing career counseling in Hogwarts. Her Head of House had heavily suggested she look into the department. It made sense after all. The girl had never had any super personal ties, she had tested high in non-theoretical magic, and had always been up for a fight. It had never sat well with her, however, because of her own issues with the Ministry. She had only gone into it because of her promise made to Ariel Greyback and the werewolves she had met – and her promises made to the families of Vito’s victims. She had done what she had done for others.

So when he proposed his solution, Jack’s gut reaction was to turn it down. Tell him she just couldn’t commit to a defending a position in government that she had long believed to have too much power. Tell him she just didn’t want to get bogged down in politics anymore. She wanted to help right these wrongs and then escape to live a happy life.

But it was going to be a pretty miserable life if she or Max was forced to move out of their home when they were married off.

Jack released her tea and began running her hands through her hair, before letting her hands fall over her face. She sighed out, handling the first of the matters. “My family needs to stay in our house. Maybe you can help me figure out some trickier spells, but if I took them from their home because I wanted to fix this place, I’d be ruining their lives all under the guise of bettering them. Thank you, though, Charlie will need eyes on her if I’m quitting my teaching job to work as an Unspeakable.”

There it was, then. Her decision. She dropped her hands. “I’ll do it. I’ll help figure things out, help the Ministry transition back into what it’s meant to be, then I have to skedaddle. It’s not good, being there too long. You forget what it’s like to live outside of it. I’ll do it though. We’ve got to fix this country.”

"Its a good choice," he said, smiling. "And I do understand the discomfort with government and politics. That's not why I do it. I do it now because the only family I've had since I was in school was Robert and Remus and Kate.

"That aside, though, I originally got into it because Rufus Scrimgeor recruited me when the war broke out. At the time, it kept me out of jail. I think he felt either a bit sorry for me. I was more than a bit pitiful as a kid. Or, he felt he'd rather have me stealing for him than from him. I've never known just which it was.

"The pay, though, is extraordinary. And they can't really tax what they won't admit you have. They've tried, but I've been able to keep it from sticking much.

"I work when I want, and I dont' work when I don't want. That is, if someone doesn't guilt me into some assignment I really don't want to do. I can be a patsy about that. All things considered, though, if I were a family man, I can't see myself forced into a job that robs me away from my family 40 hours a week, 50 weeks a year and getting peanuts for it.

"You'll be getting your training and credentials and what-not's from one of us that you already know as being associated with Robert. They're not part of the Unspeakable unit, but Robert needs us to function as his eyes and ears--and voice for the moment.

"I'm guessing you know most of the folks associated with Robert. I'm guessing the faces you might see, besides me, might be Brian, Angus, and then there are a couple of unusual players.

"Marcus Belby. He's British but he was hired by the Bulgarian Minister's office years ago as a bodyguard for the Minister. Long story short, he's on indefinite loan from them to Robert. He specializes in espionage and intelligence and personal protections. His dossier reads like a cold war spy novel. You saw him, I believe, the night you were with us and met James in the alley. You can trust him.

"The only other odd fellow in the bunch is Robert's American counterpart, Lee Shepherd. Lee is here not only because of his friendship with Robert but also because America is a sworn ally to us. They have a vested interest in making sure England doesn't go to pot. He's got strong skills in military operations and intelligence. And he's got ties here in England too, not just in the States.

"If I were a betting man, I'd wager that this will be a team operation that Robert will be running behind the scenes and Shepherd might well be the messenger for. But I'm not entirely sure on that. I'm guessing Robert will want the rest of us as agents in the operation.

"So you know, we've also been approached by the leaders of the Death Eaters who are offering their support. They have a strong interest in seeing this law overturned in order to avoid seeing the purebloods watered out by the law over time. We're not fool enough to see it as an unconditional alliance, but neither would we be foolish enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. It does give us some temporary common ground, if we find we can use their help. If the time comes, we might need to see if there's anything of the Order left. But that's your call entirely.

"Now--are you completely overwhelmed?" he gave her a slight smile. Then he teased her a bit. "Its nice to have you on the team. At least that way, I can look out for you and not have you taking it on all by yourself." As if Jack needed someone to look out for her anyway. It didn't stop Michael from wanting to do it, though.

Jack listened, taking it in as fully as someone could. She had always had fairly good amount of retention, and a lot of this was information she could have pieced together. Jack knew the Lupin clan, the large extended family of allies, and she had worked long enough in the Ministry to know some of the men that the Heads could count on because they adored Robert. Still, she took in every morsel, because this was her job now. She had been seeking knowledge, but apparently it was best retrieved wrapped up in a job offer.

She knew it was not an easy trade. Sure, she was getting what she wanted – she would be getting involved, just as she had used to be. She would be right in the thick of everything, doing what she could to bring a sense of balance and justice into the world. But she was also heavily aware of the price. Even now, she knew she was going to have to sacrifice. She had sacrificed her Quidditch career once for her Ministerial career. While she didn’t think she would quit Quidditch (it was the only thing keeping her from blowing up her mailbox on bill day) she knew there would be a trade off somewhere. And there would be less time with Sunny. Less time with Max – well, maybe not. Now that she thought of it, she’d be working with him.

Huh. They could carpool.

She glanced up finally, offering a small smile. “Right.” She looked down at her tea, and then looked back up. “Fred Weasley. He’s an Unspeakable, I believe. I knew he was doing work with the American Department of Mysteries, so I’m sure he’s there now that he’s here. I don’t know his whole place in this, but I think we could bring him in as well. I could work with Fred – he and I got on well in school. He was one of the few people I wasn’t shoving in trashcans.”

She was putting off talking about the Order, but she could not put it off forever. “Look, the thing with the Order is… they don’t care unless there’s glory involved. I mean, if it comes down to a battle or something, they’ll come in. But there’s very few that would follow through with real patience. I’m thinking of handing that off to someone, if I’m being honest with you. I can’t keep caring about people who claim to care but who can’t get beyond their own issues to do anything.”