River of Denial

Khaat had been to Knockturn--again. She hadn't fared as well today as she had a couple days ago when she had managed to procure so many bottles of potions that her bag nearly didn't hold them all, even shrunken. Well, evidently they had not had time to restock sufficiently. Maybe the repeated obliviate spells were taking a toll on his potionsmakers.

She'd also become a heavy investor in gorgeous art glass bottles. It helped her purposes. She had scoured all sections of London for the most beautiful art glass new perfume bottles and potions bottles. Since the perfume bottles had never been used, they were great at holding potions. She always had a very elegant bottle of some sort in her bag. She had her stash of bottles and potions hidden where she knew no one would ever, ever find them. The only other person who even knew the bloody place even existed was her father, and he'd forgotten about it altogether, as near as she could figure out.

The potions did help. She'd been taking them since her second go around with Barker. It had been a few weeks now. If her father would have given them to her, she'd have gotten them from him to begin with. But the one potion that helped her was the one he detested above all others. And going to Rob wouldn't help. He'd have just told her to suck it up and move on with her life. He didn't like that potion either, and had rescued her from it once. Rob had no room to talk. He sucked up potions like a dry sponge. He used mind numbing potions for any part of life he wanted to opt out of. As for her, she didn't want to opt out of life. She just wanted to opt out of feeling the painful bits.

It really wasn't asking so much, was it? She'd tried firewhiskey, and it took far too much of it to do any good. Besides that, if she was smashed, she couldn't work. The potion allowed her to do both. When things got really unbearable, a swig of potion followed by a strong shot of firewhiskey usually was the perfect mix. It was not one Rob or her father would have begun to consider. But she wasn't consulting either of them, was she?

She had tested the potion just outside the lab door. Not exactly up to snuff. It was a bit watered down from their usual blend. That was odd. Rob didn't usually tolerate that nonsense. He clearly hadn't been into the lab today. That was probably good for her. He didn't sell legal stuff, but it wasn't ever inferior. Well, hardly ever. Today's was an extremely rare exception. But still, for free, what could she complain about?

She pulled the black hood farther up to hide her face. She should not have brought her walking stick with her today, but the limping without it was far too painful. She still needed it. She didn't like how distinctive it was, though. She did need to buy a plain one for her attempts at espionage-like efforts.

She heard a noise behind her, and it made her spin around with lightning swiftness, drawing her wand. It was nothing. Just an ordinary daily Knockturn noise. She sighed heavily, not liking how jumpy she was. She needed to be able to train again, to feel confident in her abilities again to defend herself. But they weren't letting her train yet. Not yet. She tucked her wand back in her cloak and pulled the cloak closer. The winter air was cold.

She shouldered her bag, the new bottles clacking together gently, and got a grip on her stick and started back towards Diagon Alley.

Once again, Rob had been dumped with his godchildren. He was really starting to become aggravated with Christophe and with Jen out; he was left to deal with the children alone. Fauve and Thierry were starting school in Bulgaria and Elijah was bombarding Rob with letters, asking him if they were okay despite knowing full well that Rob had no idea if they were alright. Elijah’s cousins, who had taken up residence in the Knockturn townhouse, were taking bets from anyone and everyone with regards to which child would get into/start a fight first: Fauve or Thierry. So far it was a pretty even score and the twins were raking up the cash. Rob had a feeling they knew who would be the one to fight first; or they’d cause it so they didn’t lose out.

Deciding to pay a visit to the girls in Knockturn was something Rob usually did without children present but he was sure potion fumes were going to harm them less than their parents could. Katrina, Lena, Althea and Fay needed to be reassured that he was alive but what he didn’t bank on was finding the girls looking hung-over and strung out with their heads bent over cauldrons of what smelt like the Cruciatus potion. He took his wand out of his pocket and flicked it, making the cauldrons disappear. He flicked his wand at the lamps and light flooded into the room. The sisters all turned their eyes onto him and it was only Lena that showed she recognised Rob.

The potioneer walked over to the nearest sister, Althea, and grabbed her chin. He looked her in the eyes and held his wand to her face, frowning as he did so. “What have you taken?” He murmured, searching her face for the answer. When she didn’t supply the information he wanted, Rob released her and moved towards the storage cupboards. He pulled the cupboard doors open and walked inside, holding his wand aloft. He murmured ‘Lumos’ and looked about himself, searching for the gap in the shelves. Rob found the gap after turning once and his eyes narrowed. He pointed his wand at the gap and flicked it towards him, bringing a lone potion bottle off of the shelf. The bottle floated down into his hand and he turned it over to read the label.

Rob left the store cupboards and slammed the bottle down on the table. It shattered in his hand and he cursed angrily. He waved his hand slightly to relieve the pain in his hand from the glass and pointed his wand at Lena. “What have you been taking? You haven’t got the symptoms for these tranquilisers so what have you taken?” She shook her head. Nothing. “Okay, I’ll rephrase shall I? What backfired? What spells have you been put under? What hasn’t worked?” He glared at Lena and she blinked back at him. “Okay, fine!” he shouted. He pointed his wand at her, “Stupefy!” Lena fell to the floor with a thud and Rob walked over to her. He pointed his wand at her chest and murmured, “Rennervate”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered and she blinked up at him. Rob put his foot down on her hand and pressed it down onto the floor. She gasped and her face contorted in pain. Her eyes snapped open and Rob took his foot off. He knelt down and touched her neck with his index and middle fingers. “Obliviate...does that sound familiar to you, darlin’?” He asked. A look passed over her face and Rob nodded. “Good girl. Sorry about your hand. Fix your sisters, alright? And look after the triplets. I don’t care how but don’t boil their heads or anything alright?” Lena narrowed her eyes and rob smiled innocently. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to see a man about a boat and a woman about some potions.”

Rob left the warehouse ad stormed into Knockturn alley, a thunderous look on his face. He knocked over some bottles by accident and the sound of them breaking against the cobbles made a person up ahead whirl around. Rob ducked into the shadows and watched as a familiar wand was drawn. His eyes widened in surprise and he slipped into one of the back alleys. He picked up pace and emerged at the entrance of Knockturn Alley, effectively blocking Khaat off. He walked down to meet her and took his wand from his pocket just in case. Rob pointed it at her and flicked it, sending the hood back with a gust of wind. “Don’t you know any better?” he asked her.

"I don't know what the deuce you're talking about, Robbie," she said. Robbie? Where had that come from? She'd never called him Robbie before. Not ever. Stupid potion. With her luck, the next thing she'd do is call Matt Matty and then he'd know too. Just bloody wonderful. Mental note to self, Ask Doyle for illegals next time.She thought.

Actually, she really didn't expect him to buy the lie that easily. Rob wasn't traditionally gullible. If she was lucky, he wouldn't smell the weeks of potion in her bloodstream. If she was lucky, he was only ticked at the loss of money from his coffers.

"Actually, I thought our marriage was working rather well," she tried to redirect his attentions. "I don't bother you, and you don't bother me." And that was another pure and outright lie. The last thing she had ever really wanted was Rob's distance. Even angry, his face was still one of the things that could make her heart skip a beat. He was onto her. Plain and simple. And now all they were doing was dancing. For some odd, hopeless reason, she still felt like it was worth a try. Dumb.

What somewhat puzzled her was how fast he had figured out it had been her. He hadn't been anywhere near the lab when she had been there, and she didn't exactly leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind her. It could have been anyone taking those potions. It wasn't as if Rob's shop didn't get either robbed or blown up regularly. For some odd reason, she hadn't even made it out of Knockturn before he'd traced the potions right to her. She really did need to go find Michael and have him teach her more effective theft skills. This "walk right in and help myself" stuff clearly didn't work anymore.

Khaat’s response was out of character at best and it shocked Rob to the core. Robbie? Was she Christophe in disguise? Was that what he was doing while he was lumping Rob with his children? Was he dressing up as Khaat and robbing the warehouse? That was too weird. Rob blinked rapidly and tightened his grip on his wand. “Of course you don’t,” Rob snorted. “You’re not that good. Why is it that I have caught you and Robert hasn’t?” He asked curiously.

Rob didn’t think for a second that he was a dense as Khaat’s words implied. She must have thought he really was an idiot if she expected him to fall for that. Or maybe she was the idiot.

Rob was reduced to silence when she spoke again. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to Khaat. Rob lowered his wand ever so slightly and glared at her. “No, you’re wrong,” he said, his voice hard and coarse. “This marriage doesn’t work in case you haven’t noticed. It bothers me when you do this to yourself. Because it’s my fault isn’t it? It’s my potion.” He gestured to the bag. “Give it to me Khaat, and I’ll take you home alright? I’ll take you back to Brian and you can get some rest because clearly you need it otherwise you’ll reduce yourself to a brain dead mess. There are side-effects to these potions, you know,”

Pocketing his wand, Rob stepped forward, gesturing for Khaat to give him the bag. He held his hands out to her, showing her he meant her no harm, and approached her carefully in case she decided the potions meant more to her than her own life. That often happened to people. It was why Rob preferred stupefying them. Khaat, he had more faith in though.

"Its not your fault, you know," she said softly. "It doesn't really matter if it was your potion or not. If it hadn't been yours, I'd have just gotten it elsewhere. I get it from you because I do trust you. I trust your potions. To get it elsewhere, I'd have to deal with your enemies, and if I wanted it desperately enough, I could do that, but at considerably more risk when they found out who I was in relationship to you.

"Whatever you think, I'm not trying to dodge life. I'm just trying to take the sharp edge off things. I know that doesn't make much sense. But as long as Luther Burke and Tom Gelding are watching every move I make, I have to look behind me with every step I take. I have bodyguards in my own house. Rob, you have no idea thats like, do you? I'm glad for the extra protection for Abbey and Dakota, but I really don't want to continue life as a pawn for Burke and Gelding."

That wasn't the entire truth. It was a big part of it, but it wasn't all of it. She was haunted nightly by the fact that she had been so close to death and remembered it so clearly. She had never talked about it. Not with anyone. And she didn't understand why Remus hadn't come for her. In those moments when she was out of her body and unable to get back, why hadn't he come? Why had she really come back? She had had a choice of opting out. But for some reason, she had fought with all she had to come back. The reason why was a bit fuzzy now for her.

And her biggest question of all still remained why couldn't she and Rob make any sort of relationship work? Why was it that the people who shared her home and her life didnt' see what Rob could see at a glance? And what did she continue to do that kept him so far away? She was not going to betray to him again how much she really still wanted their marriage to work. Brian understood that she loved Rob still, and he accepted her anyway because in the end, Khaat chose to come home to him. And he knew that she loved him too. But Khaat knew Rob did not understand in the slightest how she could love him and Brian too. And, as Rob had said to her more than once, he didn't like to share.

"You can have the potions," she said quietly. She wasn't totally out yet, so he could have these. "But I would like the bag back."

Potions were dangerous to begin with but his potions were about as dangerous as they got. Rob’s ‘company’ – if you could call it that – strove to make potions better so those that were already potent and dangerous were made more so by careful observation and trial and error. The latter rarely needed to happen now. The basis for modification was there for all of the potions in stock and known to man. It was just a case of increasing and decreasing measurements. Rob knew upon taking the bag and looking inside that Lena and the girls hadn’t done particularly well with the potions. The rush to restock them must have clouded their judgment. The additional problems of the memory charms wouldn’t help the problem, either.

“I’m glad you have so much confidence in me,” Rob replied sourly, glaring at his wife, “So tell me,” He said, keeping his eyes on the bag as he minced through it, “What happens to our daughter when your brain becomes riddled with this and you can no longer function? This, Khaat, is selfish of you. You want help; you ask for it. You don’t do this! Why is this – why are these potions – what you fall back on?!”

Rob dropped the bag on the floor and sighed. The smash of the bottles inside was a satisfying sound but it wasn’t enough. He stepped towards Khaat and put his hands on her shoulders. “I was under the impression you were a smart little witch,” Rob smirked at her, “Why do you insist on proving me wrong?” He asked with a half-smile. She was ridiculous sometimes. This was one of those times. Rob sighed and pushed some of Khaat’s hair back behind her ears. “How about I take you back to the madhouse and we get something to drink? Jen sent David and Chris out shopping the other week. They spent enough money to feed five thousand people if we run out of fish, bread and wine or whatever it was Jesus gave all the nosy people surrounding him.” Rob smirked again.

"Now you listen to me," she hissed angrily in his face "I have never, never forgotten Abbey. Not once. She's one of the biggest reasons I'm doing this. You really, really don't get it. As for why I fall back on them? I don't know. Why do you? You take as many mind numbing potions as the best of them. If I use firewhiskey, I can't work. I need to be functional. I just don't want to feel. Why are you judging me so harshly?

"You want to help? Help me kill Gelding. Help me kill Burke. I couldn't care less about Barker now. He's your problem, and he's a flunkie at best. Help me to stop needing to look behind me with every step I take. Having to dodge wand fire at every moment of the day and night. Its not like there's a bloody break from it--ever. You really want to help? Help me kill them. Help me get my life back and make sure that Abbey is safe from them forever.

"And besides that, you ruined a perfectly good leather bag. I'll never get that potions stink out of it now. I can't possibly take that bag around Brian or Angus or my father--none of them." She looked at him, at his invitation to his Knockturn house. Well, that might give them time to talk.

"Alright. Your place," she gave in. She did realize that Rob was never going to let her continue on these. It wasn't in his makeup. And it really, really wasn't in her makeup to need them. Just once in a great while. Normally, she didn't take anything. She did trust that her father and Brian would stand by her--once their rage wore off. They were entitled, she knew. She had no intentions of telling her friends. She didn't want them to leave her because she was no longer the Perfect Lupin that they believed her to be.

"You've got firewhiskey?" she asked Rob. What harm could it do? The worst that would happen, as far as she really knew, was that when she mixed them she got drunk a hell of a lot sooner. It didn't take her the better part of a bottle. It only took a couple shots to get her smashed. Wait. Rob had never seen her smashed. That might not be such a good thing. She wasn't beligerant. She was just normally a silly drunk, in the few times she had ever been drunk.