The smart will survive

It had taken all of Zoe's willpower to force herself here that night. The sun was still setting in the sky, as she glanced around her, and made her way down the streets of Hogsmeade. Zoe had never exactly been an.. evil person, she just couldn't stand monsters, and what they brought to the wizarding world. But when she had gotten the letter.... well it had all changed. She had that letter, tucked into her cloak, as she walked down the nearly deserted street of Hogsmeade, heading to the bar that had paid a pivotal role in the final war against Voldemort, in the 'good' side's favor. She stared at the old pub, not much had changed about it over the years, it was still stingy, and dark, with a weird old wizard at the bar, though she doubted it was a Dumbledore who ran this place any longer. There were to many dark wizards who drank their firewhiskey here in order for a Dumbledore to just sit back quietly and watch. Nah.. the old man had probably died out years ago, and left it to some other poor sap who needed a steady job and a place to live.

Zoe walked up to the door, and stood outside it. She was dressed in her normal, not at work clothes. A dark traveling cloak, and some rather simple muggle clothes under it. Nothing to fancy, but definitely stretchy enough that it wouldn't hinder her from getting to her many weapons she normally carried with her. She had a few tucked away for sure, just in case, one important one being her wand, but she had others, tucked into her boot, and strapped around her waist. But she hoped she wouldn't need them tonight, no.. tonight was a night of bargains. Pushing open the creaky old door, Zoe took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the change of light in the room, before she walked up to the bar and ordered a firewhiskey. She wouldn't drink to much tonight, but she would need to stay alert, and having a searing hot liquid go down your throat was one sure fire way of keeping you on your toes. She sat down at a table near the back and sipped her drink, looking around the room, waiting to be approached by the people she was waiting for.

‘The Letter’ had been tucked among the files and papers that Jen had been handed that morning. Upon breaking the seal she found that the letter addressed to her could have no way come from a respectable source. Yet, the promise of power was something that could not be ignored on her part. She’d discarded the letter, for fear of the unknown, but knowing where it was, in the third drawer down of her desk. After suffering through a board meeting and being handed yet another one of those suicide cases that were actually serial murders, Jen gave up and went to lunch, though she didn’t forget to take the letter with her. Over a bowl of pasta she read and re-read the letter, weighing up her options and wondering that whether she was being hoodwinked. No one particularly wanted to kill her bar the usual folk who never got a look in. She felt sorry for them but admired their attempts. She was anxious that this was another one of those bogus attempts on her life. She was genuinely concerned.

Yet, in typical Dent fashion, she went anyway.

Jen appeared in Hogsmeade with the typical crack of Apparation. She gave a heavy sigh, awkwardly balancing her bag on her shoulder, and felt much like a child again. She muttered something unintellgiable under her breath and walked past an orchestra playing in the square, deciding that it was probably best to make haste and get to the Hogs Head sooner rather than later. Jen really wasn’t that bothered whether the person who sent the letter showed up or not because either way it meant that she could have a glass of Firewhisky and nobody would give a damn. So, after arriving at the Hogs Head, she dumped her bag in front of the bar, ordered a Firewhisky and sat herself down on the bar stool. She was early, as ever, but decided that she’d take that time to enjoy her drink, before all of the ridiculousness began.

A sense of curiosity had filled Grindelwald from the moment he re-entered the wizarding... well, the world in general.

See, there were loose ends from his past life. Most had been dealt with via natural processes, but some had just kept spreading themselves, existing until, and probably after his death.

One such loose end was Aberforth Dumbledore.

Loose end, however, was far too harsh a phrase, and it was certainly not the most apt choice for something which had played such a pivotal role in your life.

But yes, on track. Gellert had wanted to see, or at least to seek some sort off confirmation about Aberforth's whereabouts, he was, after all, the last remaining family member... the last tie to... him.

Pride, however, had stood in the way, and Gellert had found himself deciding not to actively seek out the man who had ruined his life, ruined his plans, and had ruined his friendsh-... who had ruined his plans. Instead, he had decided that rather than lower himself to the level of looking for him, he would wait until the time was right, and when he was going to be going to Aberforth's old bar anyway, before he made any attempts to find him.

Three small pops, all within a heartbeat of each other, broke the silence of one of Hogsmeade's side streets, announcing the arrival of three people with a world changing agenda. If all went well this evening, which Gellert had no doubt it would (He didn't venture into things like this lightly, after all, preferring to make sure everything was almost 100% confirmed before actually taking that vital step and placing oneself in the given situation.

Without a word the three walked silently through the street, approaching the dimly glowing lights of the Hog's Head, each of them walking with their wands at the ready, knowing that just about anything was possible to occur during a situation like this.

Pausing outside the door Gellert was pleased to hear the normal raucous coming from inside the tavern, his fears disappearing almost immediately. If the Ministry had set up a trap for him all that would await the opposite side of this door would be dead silence, followed by an eruption of curses. The presence of sound served to put him almost entirely at ease.

Pushing the door open at seven o'clock exactly, the three of them swept inside, their cloaks drawn in such a manner that if you didn't know they were mere men, you might have though they were gliding.

Without a word the three of them took a seat in a secluded booth, one which was close enough to the light to remove the curiosity that came with back corner meetings, like this one normally would have been, and without actually entering that area where you could be overheard by everyone.

Finally, after what felt like an age, Gellert decided to glance at the bar, hoping... no, not hoping... just... wanting, to see if Aberforth was standing there, "cleaning" a mug with the grimy rag which seemed to come with every tavern.

A wave of disappointment crashed over him as he saw a young (Well, not really young, but everyone looks that way after you've died) man magically cleaning a glass.

Shaking his head almost imperceptibly he finally brought himself to do what he'd come for, searching through the room and spotting the two Ministry Witches he'd summoned to come meet him. As he'd suspected, both had arrived without bringing anyone with them.

Closing his eyes in concentration, and tapping his wand to his forehead he entered the minds of the two women, not to search (he couldn't have if he'd wanted to) but merely to drop a message.

"I'm here"

It always served well, he thought, to have others come to you, rather than the other way around, and this time was no exception, he had rather deliberately chosen to sit somewhere he knew that the women would have to go out of their way to get to, rather than heading straight to them the moment he entered.

He crinkled his nose a little, trying to block out a scent which had clung to the inside of his mind for centuries, one which only strengthened every time he thought of the Dumbledore's old house at Godric's Hollow.

Honestly, it was like a permanent sticking charm, but for smells. The kind of smell that just seemed to linger interminably, rather than disappear over time.

Damn goats...

((Oh, and sorry to my two henchmen for godmoding you. But meh.))

Zoe carefully looked up when she heard a voice. It wasn't exactly a voice she recognized, but she recognized the intent behind it. It was her contact. She looked up, watching for people who would be obvious to her, finally though, she saw a three men sitting near a light. The perfect place to find someone who didn't want seen. Taking a sip of her firewhiskey, she looked around the room carefully. Her eyes stayed trained on the men, before she casually stood up, and made her way over to their table. Without a word, she sat down and leaned back in her chair, studying the men without taking in much more then their cloaks.

She leaned back and sipped her drink again, feeling the searing liquid go down her throat, she smirked at them before she leaned forward towards him. She didn't know about the other woman they had called here, so she assumed it was okay to talk. "You called?" She asked, smiling at them, and setting her drink down in front of her. No one was looking at them oddly, if they did their eyes drifted over the group without really caring. A lot of people met up in such a way in that bar, in fact she could see a couple of these kinds of meetings happening across the bar, so she sat there, in the gaze of the three men, attempting to not look nervous.

For the importance of the meetings lying before him, Gellert was oddly at ease. Strangely, he felt as though this was all going to be rather easy, and as if the pieces had already fallen into place, all he had to do was make sure to apply the correct amount of glue.

"Zoe Gould," Gellert said slowly, a knowing smile playing across his lips as he looked up to properly face the woman who sat before him, analysing her appearance in an attempt to glean just a little more information about her before he got down to the business end of things.

"Head of the Department of Regulation and of Control of Magical Creatures," he said, drawing the title out, an intangible hint of sarcasm lurking beneath the surface of his words.

"I have a question for you," he told her after a short pause, a daring look crossing his face as he spoke, attempting to play at her challenging side, if she had one at all.

"Tell me. Do you know who you are? Do you know who you want to be? And do you know what you could be?" He asked, dropping his gaze to the table, suddenly becoming rather interested in his own fingers, which were slowly drawing perfect circles on the surface of the gnarled table.

"If you know the answer to these questions, then I think you're in the right place, and if you don't... well, I think I can help you figure it out," he told her, shaking his head as if snapping out of a trance, and once again locking his gaze onto Zoe.

"You don't know me, however," he added, a playfully enticing tone in his voice

((Oh god. That was awful. Please excuse my poor writing. I'm tired. On that note, I'm off to bed. ta-ta.))

Zoe stared at him. Obviously he knew her name, and obviously he knew where she worked. She frowned and leaned back again, eyes glued to his hands as he drew circles in the table. He asked her some pretty serious questions, and she frowned, her gaze moving up to his eyes, wondering who this man was. He spoke like he was reading off a brochure, wanting to know if she knew herself, and she thought for a second. Obviously he wasn't a very... nice guy. But it was definitely appealing to her monster killer side. He promised her power, with power came knowledge, and that was what she was after.

She had no idea who he was, but she had a feeling that he could help her out now. Her need for power was over weighing her daylight thinking. The sun was still up, but she was already in her nighttime mode, and it was pretty thrilling. To think that she could have a chance at being who she was at night.. during the day. She narrowed her eyes at him when his eyes found hers, and she couldn't help but feeling the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "You've got me interested." She said taking another sip of her drink.

Ne'Os appeared a heartbeat after Grindelwald did, his hood was over his head to hide his identity from those that might be watching. Ne'Os followed the dark wizard into the pub he had visited on many occasions throughout his time at Hogwarts. He paused at the door with the other two, it was at least clear to him and Grindelwald shared the same thought if this was ambush it would be dead silent.

He followed Grindelwald inside stepping in before the other death eater had a chance to. He sat down at the booth and waited patiently for the two people they were supposed to meet. He smiled as he noticed one of them was his boss. While he knew she wouldn't recognize him do to his excellent use of the polyjuice potion.He watched the meeting with some boredom though he did his best not to show it. When the three entered and sat down he placed his wand away it would still be accessible but he felt it wouldn't be necessary.


((wow i have lost the ability to post))

Idle chat with the man behind the bar was the best that Jen was going to get that night, she figured. She cast her eyes around the bar, observing the people and their present actions. Many were drinking but the two men seated to her left seemed to be discussing the exchange of a newly-hatched Basilisk. Over the other side of the room, Jen soon spotted Zoe Gould who, by rights, should have really been in the process of detaining the pair. But, having said that so should have Jen. She was generally all for illegal acts because it meant less paperwork for her to process. It was only when someone actually died that it became a problem that really needed to be sorted. The Basilisk would be fine as long as it was out of the country and not wreaking havoc in the fields of County Durham. That would begin to be problematic; unless of course it only wanted to eat mice, then it was fine. She pitied poor Gould who would no doubt eventually have to deal with the snake that would be raging across the countryside within months.

The announcement from the entrant did not make Jen move but she looked. It was only after Zoe moved that slowly, Jen began to get down from where she’d seated herself. She took her glass with her, tapping her nails against the side, and carefully stepped around a table of poker playing miners and made her way over to where the Head of Department and their writer was stood. She tugged idly on one of her curls and stood a little bit away, listening attentively to the comments he was making, and the promise of power that came with it. Jen allowed herself to be distracted for a few moments by the hooded figure hunched beside the man. She couldn’t deny that there was a familiar air about the man though she daren’t voice her queries. Knowing her luck, it was probably Emof, looking to scrimmage power off some other poor unsuspecting sod. Just like they were, in effect, but Jen believed herself and Ms. Gould to be of a lot more worth than a brat that never graduated. She supposed he had some worth, little, but enough to keep him around and, more importantly for him, in existence.

Jen took a seat beside Zoe and crossed one leg over the other, her irritation flaring for a reason she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Cut the dramatics,” She hissed, her eyes flashing. “Lay it down as simply as possible,” Jen placed her glass down on the table, though whether for effect or just because was not clear. “Because otherwise, my patience won’t last long enough; and I’m sure Ms. Gould has a chimera to track down in Northern Italy or somewhere in the Euro zone. So please, I know many people of your calibre have a flair for dramatics but it is a cliché. Let’s keep it simple, shall we? Continue.”

Gellert cocked and eyebrow as the Head of Law enforcement joined them in what he'd heard was a typical jaunty fashion. From what he'd been told, she was typically like this, in your face, trying to be in charge, and a cut-to-the-crap sort of a person.

It was a trait he liked.

Smiling subtly he nodded, shifting his relaxed stance to one more serious, leaning forward so as to close the gap between them, and to be able to lower his voice even further.

"The fact you're here, alone, tells me more than your words ever could. You have risked your jobs for something you undoubtedly knew was not the most pure of meetings, Ms. Dent, you yourself just let slip that I was a dark wizard... Some may say that, I've never care much for titles myself though, I must admit," he said with a shrug.

"You want power, that much is obvious. But where would you stop to get it. I have a plan, one that could be very rewarding to you two in particular, but in my opinion, rewarding for the rest of the Wizarding world. I know you don't care for 'Theatrics,'" He said, looking pointedly at Jen for a moment, "However I'm not going to lay all my cards out on the table before I have a personal assurance from the two of you, it's just common sense.

"So, will you stand up, leave now and turn your back on your future, or will you stay here and become involved, take life into your own charge?" He asked

Unfortunately for Jen, her presence did mean that her eye was off of whatever prize it had been on. She’d fallen into the hands of a man that would ultimately promise her power. Yet, with all wizards who promised power, there was a pitfall. Jen was wary. She had no intentions of being screwed over by this man and if he felt he could then he’d be dead faster than he could say ‘world domination’. Jenifer Dent had never exactly been world renowned for her patience or her sense of knowing when and when not to pull the trigger - so to speak. Azkaban was not exactly a new place to the Head of Department and that had certainly been something they enjoyed bringing up in the papers. Azkaban escapee made Head of Department for Law and Enforcement. The irony never ended.

Now it seemed as if Jen planned on going back to step one again. Obviously she wasn’t going to take her anger out on her brother - wherever he was - but she was prepared to delve back into that world of deception and greed. She was good at it; too good. The light malarkey was begging to really hack her off. It was ridiculous. She needed the deception. She wanted to feel the anger roll off of the dim-witted assholes that followed these wizards. She was aware that the man they were dealing with was not a fool; therefore he wasn’t going to deal it all out to two department heads that would sooner dob him in than go with his train of thinking. No, he wanted absolute trust from them - and their word that they would be his followers and at his disposal. Though Jen wanted power, she was not willing to follow anyone. Her loyalty would only be reserved for Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore; and seeing as both men were dead, she was worth a bundle but not selling at a low enough price for the little ones to grab at.

“As if it wasn’t already obvious. You said it yourself, this is hardly a pure and honest meeting.” Jen pursed her lips and slowly rose to her feet at his request. “Maybe I sound superstitious but how do we know that once you get your power that you aren’t just going to screw us over? How can we trust you?”