Do You Come Here Often?

Khaat had slipped into England to get information from her father's network of informants. She had met with them and they had slipped into the shadows of the setting sun and disapparated. The Garden was empty now except for herself. She had cast a protection spell to warn her of any approaching dark arts practioner. The garden still had countless flowers in full bloom. That waas one of the blessings of a magical garden. It didn't lose color until well into the fall and it bloomed early in the spring. And in winter, ice cascaded through it like millions of litle crystal sculptures.

Khaat loved the silence here and the crisp chill of the fall air. She loved the smell of the leaves and how they crunched under her tall tan suede boots. She had chosen her best skinny jeans and tall tan suede boots with very tall stiletto heels. One of her two top vices--stiletto heels and extra strong, black French Roast coffee. And hers today was in an insulated travel cup. That had prevented it from growing cold during the portkeying here. She had tucked the envelopes of reports inside the tan suede blazer she wore. The white cowlnecked sweater she wore under the blazer took the chill off and she was glad she had it. Around her neck, she had the everpresent green necklace that Uncle Remus had given her at her birth. Around her wrist was a beautiful bracelet her mother had made her of artglass beads that were artistic swirls of multicolors on a dark smoky gray background. The beads were chunky and fused together with clear black crystals into a cuff bracelet that had, dead center, a gold hinge that was made to look like a beautiful eagle in flight. It was the most unusual bracelet she'd ever owned, and she loved that her mother had made it for her.

She sat down on one of the white stone benches in the silence of the garden and sighed. As much as she liked travelling, England was home. She desperately missed it. She hoped someday she would not have to hide from the likes of evil men like Gellert Grindelwald and could be home with her children--all of them--all home and around her. She loved not only her own birth children, but every one that she was the guardian for. She missed being a part of their lives, and she loved each one as if they were her own. She had been honest with them all about why she was living, well, in exile for the time being, and she had provided every one of them with a network of contacts to find her if need be. And she continued their very generous allowances, even while she was in hiding.

She sipped on her coffee, wishing she were not here alone. Wishing one of her children had been able to break free of the confines of the goons that guarded the Hogwarts castle and made it a virtual prison. Every letter she wrote them told her kids that if she had enough supporters, and if it were solely her decision, she'd tear down the castle one stone at a time to free them if she could. As it was, her hands were temporarily tied. She had to wait. At least until her new husband had trained up enough new aurors to help them fight to get the dark arts followers driven back under the rock from which they had come. For now, though, a little break, a little coffee, a little autumn air--and then she'd head home. In a bit.

(( OOC: Yes, my other posts won't be as long. XD I kind of got lost trying to portray Sabriel's confusion, and the process he went through to find Khaat. Done, finally!! ))

Sabriel felt hard earth pressing into his back. Blades of grass stroked his face, and the telltale sounds of nightingales tore through the air and burrowed into his sleep-hazed mind. Cold, crisp air soared inside and escaped his lungs. An overall sense of openness also brought forth an overwhelming sense of exposure, and Sabriel found himself awakening swiftly. Gray-blue eyes snapped open. They gazed up at a starry sky. Automatically he drew himself upright. He was still befuddled. Something was very wrong. Although Sabriel couldn't quite place his finger on it, he was sure he was not dreaming.

His subconscious was already processing information a mile a minute. His poor outer-conscious was slowly going insane from lack of comprehension, however. Sabriel stood and looked around, eyes widening with each detail, both minute and significant.

The Garden of Eden sprawled before him, somehow luminous even in the throes of twilight. He realized that he woke beside a tree. It flowered even in the midst of autumn. Delicate blossoms peppered the deep green, reminding him of how the raspberry bushes in his backyard blossomed just before summer. A path cut through the forestry in front of him, spectacularly lit somehow. Sabriel assumed the light to be magical in nature, for he caught no sight of torches or even fireflies.

All the trees were the same. There could have been thousands of them, all bearing flowers or different kinds and colors. He could see them as clearly as if it were day, and he found his neck craning higher and higher until he was capable of counting the multitude of stars in the night sky. There were never as many stars in London.

Sabriel began to follow the trail. He did not know if he was going east, north, south or west. His hair was still in its ponytail, forelocks and bangs unsecured, however. He still wore his nightrob--wait!

Sabriel stopped dead in his tracks. He understood now! That overwhelming feel of wrongness. He did not belong here, in this beautiful garden. He belonged in the Ravenclaw dormitories, snuggled under a quilt and dreaming.

Perhaps he was. The unease that crept inside him started to dissipate, and Sabriel let it; if he were dreaming, it did not make sense, but he had to believe it.

He walked until a clearing came into view. Torches lit the perimeter, and it was here the feel of wrongness disappeared and instead there came a sensation of complete and utter serenity. The silence only comforted him. He had no idea how he had gotten here, but he found that he enjoyed it so. Smiling softly, now, he continued onward, exploring the clearing with his eyes and moving little. Finally, his gaze fell unexpectedly upon a woman. She was sitting on a white stone bench, and she was quite beautiful.

Sabriel paused. This woman wore stiletto heels, and cradled a mug of a hot, steaming something. He slunk back a little, feeling very out of place in his flimsy nightrobes and unkempt hair. The presence of this woman was so very unexpected, he had to regain his bearings for a moment. How would she react to him? Would she be able to offer some kind of explanation as to why he was there?

Sabriel took a deep breath and stepped from the shadows.

Khaat heard the sound of footsteps approaching through the brightly colored leaves. She looked up, unalarmed, and saw a rather sleepy, unkempt, delicate young man there at the edge of the clearing. She smiled at him.

"Hello. You look like you could use a sip of my coffee," she said gently. Then she asked, "You were dreaming, yes? Maybe you have some skills that tied you into mine. My apologies for rooting you from your sleep, if I did. I'm a seer, and sometimes we tap into the skills of others without intending to. You're welcome to come sit, if you like. I don't bite. Come sit, and I'll conjure you something warm to drink to keep you warm."

He looked at bit lost, she did admit. "Looks like you've never been here before. This is the Garden of Solace--at the edge of Hogsmeade. Its a memorial garden, to remember the brave students and staff at Hogwarts that stood up against the dark arts followers several months ago. We built it to honor those we loved and lost in that battle. Its a safe place--one I love. Its enchanted to be beautiful, in its own way, all year round. It's quiet and peaceful and always feels so far away from dark arts people. They're not allowed here. Not to cause harm anyway. The protection spells prohibit that. So, since that keeps enemies from coming here--well, or at least keeps them from making trouble here, I suppose that makes us friends." she smiled warmly. "I'm Khaat."

Sabriel listened to the woman speak. Some phrases got mixed and jumbled together in his mind, as if the world was moving very fast. He got the picture, however. This woman, this divine person, was a seer and named Khaat, and she was also his friend. This place was not the Garden of Eden, but rather a special memorial erected in the honor or the wizards that fought at Hogwarts those hectic months before. He was in no danger here.

Sabriel drew closer. Timid, tentative. He wondered if he should speak.

"I am Sabriel."

Sabriel winced. He was right not to trust his voice. The sentence came out much too soft and, where he managed not to stutter, his voice trembled tumultuously. He clutched the sleeve of his robe with his left hand, his wand hand, as he drew closer. Absently, he had to wonder what made him so nervous. He sat beside the woman, taking in her appearance with much curiosity whilst trying not to seem rude.

There was something about Khaat that made him want to trust her, so he gave her a smile of his own. It was forced, but it was a smile. A soft gust of wind blew, throwing wisps of silver hair into his eyes and making him shiver.

Khaat drew forth her wand, deliberate to not ever point the wand remotely towards him to avoid startling him. She flicked her wand in the air and conjured a large mug that floated in the air. She flicked her fingers, sending the mug towards him. "Hot spiced cider," she said. "Try it. It'll warm you up. Nice to meet you, Sabriel. If you'd made it here a few minutes earlier, you'd have met some of my family and friends. Too bad. They'd like you.

"My guess is that its the fact that its Halloween that allowed you to get off school grounds at all. The security there has been pretty ruthless since the dark arts followers have taken over so much. I'm hoping that doesn't last much longer. It's just taking awhile to raise up enough aurors to help fight the dark wizards who would like to own and run our world." Then she smiled at him. "But we're working on it. We don't give up easily. We'll get enough to stand with us. And we'll take a stand against him and his cronies."

(( OOC: Oh Jesus I hope I'm right with the whole Khaat having to go into hiding thing . XP ))

Excitement. Elation. Khaat might label him insane for such excitement over a mere cup of cider. He grabbed at it, delicate hands encircling the mug with eagerness. He did admit; he was cold, but he loved drinking hot beverages overall. Just the feel of the warmth, spreading throughout his body, put him in a dreamlike bliss and reminded him of all those times his mothers and sisters nursed him when he was younger.

"Thank you," he told the woman. Was it Khaat? Khaat. Sabriel recalled hearing the name before, but he failed to summon the memory. The cider scalded his tongue only somewhat, but the night air was cooling it quickly. He seemed to lose himself as he drank, forgetting his current predicament, and before he knew it Khaat was speaking again:

"My guess is that its the fact that its Halloween that allowed you to get off school grounds at all. The security there has been pretty ruthless since the dark arts followers have taken over so much. I'm hoping that doesn't last much longer. It's just taking awhile to raise up enough aurors to help fight the dark wizards who would like to own and run our world."

A warm smile. She was beautiful.

"But we're working on it. We don't give up easily. We'll get enough to stand with us. And we'll take a stand against him and his cronies."

Sabriel nodded. "Thank you," he said again.

Suddenly he was disoriented. Again, his subconscious had progressed much faster than his outer conscious had, and reached a startling revelation. For a moment, Sabriel fought to figure out what it was, and when he did, he let out a tiny gasp.

What she'd said, why her name was so familiar! It was all coming back to him, now. This woman, Khaat. She was all over the Prophet. She was a criminal and therefore she had to go into hiding. Truthfully, ever since Hogwarts itself became corrupted, Sabriel nor the rest of his family trusted the media all that much. Being part of the higher-class, pureblood social rank, Bellrose and Ferris heard of almost every event that occurred.

He was sitting next to one of the most powerful witches in England.

"You are that lady!" he exclaimed. He did not want to startle her, as he had been silent, deep in thought for a few moments. "You are Khaat Lupin!"

OOC: you did. LOL.


"Oh, guilty as charged," she laughed. "Niece of famous wizard Remus Lupin. I am also the rightful Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and my father is the rightful Minister of Magic. We were ousted from our posts when I had my triplets. We were at the hospital for the birth of my children and because we were out of the Ministry building, Gellert Grindlewald simply walked in and took control of our world. The coward. We haven't had to contend with an evil wizard this powerhungry since Voldemort. But--my father moved me and my children into hiding so that Grindlewald couldn't find us and perhaps kill us to draw out my father into the open. My father is one of the very few wizards in our world capable of presenting a true threat to Grindlewald, and I know I could be a very handy pawn to be used to get my father killed. So, we stay in hiding for now until we can gather enough support to put our world back to rights. Gellert Grindlewald's greatest weapon right now is that he has an evil man writing a lot of false propaganda to make him look like a saint. And everything James Roland says is a lie. Well, everything except the price on my head. That is very real. But the charges have been completely falsified. I am looking forward to seeing Gellert Grindlewald in chains in front of me when I get my courtroom back. I might send him back across the grave from where he came."

Sabriel listened with rapt attention. He knew her words were true; his father and, by extension, his mother were always swift to cry "blasphemy" when it came to all of Grindlewald's propaganda, but his grandmother labeled them as paranoid and took everything in stride. He supposed she desperately wanted all these dark times to truly be over. But that certainly wasn't the case. Not when her grandson currently attended a school swarming with Death Eaters.

"I wish you the best of luck," said Sabriel, and he meant it from the very depths of his heart.

He was quiet for a small moment, gingerly sipping the cider. He felt very at ease with this woman; she reminded him of Bellrose, his mother, but stronger. He guessed she was more synonymous to Daphne, his sister: she was temperamental, but kind when she saw fit. She had children of her own. And when she spoke of them, she got the same light in her eyes Khaat did. Even her voice changed similarly. Daphne considered Sabriel to be her child as well. When he would visit, she would take him out to ice cream. And when he was sick, she would tuck him in and sing to him, as all his family did. Even in his delirium, he heard her voice, and knew he was quite all right.

Suddenly, quietly, he said, "I want to become a medic when I get older. My father wants me to be an Auror, though. Mother says I can be both, but I'm not sure if I could bring someone from the brink of death one moment, and hex someone within an inch of life the next." He shook his head. "I've been very confused lately. I think that's how I ended up here. To find some peace."

"I think that may well be how you ended up with me," Khaat smiled. "That explains a lot. I am the Director of St. Mungos Hospital. I am a healer. My father is a Master Healer. He also has the skills of an auror. And yes, it is possible to do both.

"Let me tell you a small story. When I was a child, I was far more like my uncle than I was like either of my parents. So much so that Uncle Remus lived with us and he raised me. He taught me how to fight from as young as I can remember. He used fighting skills and survival skills as the games he and I would play. We used a lot of sticks off of the trees as pretend wands. We spent a lot of nights camping in the woods and sleeping out under the stars, and I never really realized he was teaching me how to fight and how to survive.

"My husband now is a healer, an auror, and he specializes in training people how to be aurors and bodyguards and fighters. He trains people on how to improve their physical and magical fitness. My entire family is built around teaching people how to defend themselves and what they believe in, and how to heal the sick and the wounded. What I can tell you is that for us, we developed a sense of what we believed was important. And we decided that the things that were worth fighting for were the ones we love. Family, friends, honesty and truth, goodness and light. And anything that stood up against that was worth fighting against. I don't want my sons and my daughters or any of the children that I am the guardian for growing up in a dark evil world. I want them to be able to go out and live their lives the way they want it, to be able to laugh and live and love without fear, without pain--and full of joy. That is worth fighting for. And, yes, that means it is worth killing--or dying--for. And if one of my allies is wounded, I am honored to step in to help heal them.

"You know, Sabriel, St. Mungos has an apprenticeship program once you turn 16. You can do an internship at St. Mungos your last years at Hogwarts, earn school credit for it, and end up with a paying job when you graduate. And, if you'd like, I would be happy to introduce you to Brian--my husband. He could help you lear how to make the best use of that veela flexibility and agility. We've found the veelas are fine fighters if they dont' try to come at it with brawn, but with agility and with making good use of the natural assets you already do have. You seem to be wonderfully intelligent. I think you could be whatever you wanted to be. And if you could use a friend along the way, I'd be happy to help."