Remember me?

Matt sighed as he looked at the doors of Grimmauld Place. He was sure he was going to be cursed if anyone was in there. He still wasn't completely to terms with a new face and worried how others would react. He opened them, the lights were off which meant nobody was there. He pulled out his good old wand and waved it. The lights turned on and he couldn't help but smile faintly at the memories in here. He entered through the doorway and looked around. He slowly made his way down the hallway, he had been in captivity for months it seemed. He took everything in and finally found the doorway leading to the kitchen. His stomach growled deeply. He hadn't had a bite to eat in days and could really use a glass of mead or something. He opened the door and made a B-line directly towards the fridge.

His mind was racing as he put his meal together. Who had capture him, and why had they wanted him? He knew he wanted revenge that's for sure. At this thought his wand began to heat up. His wand was always sharing the same thoughts as him. One of the main things that he missed when he was down there was his wand. He never felt safe without his wand and was at his weakest without it. After he finished his sandwich and poured himself a glass of wine he took a seat at the table. He decided not to think about it for now and wait until he was at full mental capacity. He grabbed a book from the bookshelf, took a seat, and began to eat his sandwich and read his book.

Khaat was on her way to Grimmauld. It had been nigh onto impossible to remove the paintball splatters from Walburga's portrait that Michael had tossed at the snarky old witch's face at the last Order meeting. Walburga had weathered hexes, duct tapings, and all sorts of pranking, but as Khaat saw it, Walburga deserved it. If she hadn't started shrieking and cussing every time Michael entered the place, Michael wouldn't have felt like it was so tempting to paintball the old bat in dayglo neon colors. And of course he had charmed them.

Her father had managed to secure one of Michael's paintballs and to concoct a solvent to undo the magical stains. She was bringing the solvent to Grimmauld, along with some clean rags to try to clean Walburga up. Not because she liked her, but because Walburga was part of Sirius's history, and Sirius had been important to her family. She owed that to him.

She let herself in, and Walburga immediately began griping and lecturing about how long it had taken them to undo "that criminal's foul behaviors." Khaat simply ignored her and began to clean the portrait.

Matt was happily eating away at his sandwich when he heard the door open. Oh God, what was he going to do. Whoever it wasn't probably wasn't going to recognize him. He put down his half eaten sandwich and got up from the table. Slowly making his way towards the door that lead out into the main hallway. There had not been any footsteps so they were still standing at the door most likely. He leaned out of the doorway to get a look at who had entered. Whoever it was had their back turned to Matt so he wasn't screwed yet. They were chatting with the painting. Nobody in the Order did that, unless that someone wasn't a normal someone. So there was either a member of the Black family in the house...or one of the Lupins had come to visit.

He knew the Lupins quite well, Khaat was one of his best friends. Still, he pulled his wand out from his pocket and hid it in his sleeve. It was cold, it was sensing whoever it was. Most likely a friend rather than foe he still didn't want to take a chance. Stepping out of the doorway and quietly walking down the hall he let his wand slid into his hand and grasped it. But as soon as he did this she turned around and pointed her wand at him. It was Khaat, his heart jumped them calmed down quickly. "Oh, Khaat it's only you! Thank God, I thought it was a Death Eater or something."

Her wand had been sheathed. She had felt safe here--until she just didn't feel safe. The wand draw had been automatic. Fast. And now the wand was leveled at someone who called her by name.

"You know my face," she said, "but I don't know yours. So, how about you come up with a name?" Who the heck was this guy? And what was he doing here? The last she knew, she wasn't experiencing any holes in her memory that she knew of, and she certainly did not recall the face. She was normally at least able to place a face with where she'd seen it last, if not always remembering the name, but this was drawing a complete blank.

And if he didn't come up with something that made sense, she wouldn't have much problem blasting him.

"He's a far sight better than that Azkaban escapee you keep bringing into my house!" Walburga seemed to be defending the stranger.

"Shut it, Walburga," Khaat said. "He's never been to Azkaban. You're just ticky that he doesn't like you." Walburga's image seemed to get huffy.

"Well! I never...!!" she snorted, stomping out of her portrait. But that only deepened Khaat's curiosity. Who the heck would Walburga not get worked up into knots about?

"Who are you?" Khaat asked again.

For a moment Matt had forgotten that he wasn't recognizable. His face fell and his wand arm fell. "Oh, this is going to be tricky." he said. He tapped his wand against his chin in thought then when his wand sparked and it got him he stopped. He sighed heavily, "Khaat, it's me. It's Matt." he told her giving her a small smile. "Could you please lower your wand. It's really making me uneasy because I really can't curse you back." he tasked her moving towards her. He knew she wasn't going to be sold on the idea right away and could tell it from the look on her face. Her facial expression hadn't changed except for the raised eyebrow. "Oh come on, you know it's me! It has to be me otherwise how else could I have gotten into the house!' he was nearly pleading now.

He knew he had to think of something big to tell her that would let it sink in. But what? There had to have been something that she had only ever shared with him! Then it hit him; the addiction issues. "Khaat I can prove its me!" he told her softly and pocketing his wand. Moving towards her he continued to talk. "You and I have both had addiction problems! Remember, you were with me when I was just in recovery?" he looked into her eyes. Then he remembered it was her father who had charmed his eyes. He kept his eyes on her and made them flash pink. If that wasn't enough then he didn't know what else to do.

Khaat thought carefully. The face was certainly different, but the addictions stuff--nobody knew about that except her father and Brian--and Matt. And the only one who had the charm on their eyes was Matt. She lowered her wand.

"You know, you're liable to get a lot of that sort of reception at first," she said casually. "We weren't ready for the facelift stuff. I feel a bit out of the loop on what's been going on with you. I did consider, a couple of times, sending Archangel to find you, but then I thought perhaps you were just taking some time away for yourself. " She motioned to him and started for the kitchen. "Lets see if Jess really did throw out his firewhiskey or if he just got some wild hair about formality in the last meeting."

She went out into the kitchen and found Jess did still stock some firewhiskey. His usual brand. It wasn't her brand, but, then again, firewhiskey was firewhiskey. She got out a couple of glasses, just in case Matt still enjoyed the occasional sip. She sat down and poured herself a bit in her own glass.

"So--catch me up," she said.

His shoulders slacked when she remembered. He sighed in relief and couldn't help but smile widely. "Well, I figured I have some form of special knowledge with certain people that can win them over." he told her as they walked back to the kitchen. "Jess would never throw out his firewhisky. It's just not like him, none for me I've had my alcohol for the night." he told her as he pointed to his empty glass of wine. "I don't know what happened but while I was away...parts of me changed." he told her as he sat down at the table. "I doubt Archangel would have been able to find me. I didn't even know where I was..." he trailed off into his own thoughts at this point.

As Khaat took a seat next to him and spoke he snapped back into reality. "I can't remember much of it." he told her as he scratched his head. "All I remember is that I was leaving a wedding, then I was in a dark room." he began to tell her. "Then there was pain, pain like you wouldn't believe." his voice was getting angry. "They asked me questions about someone called Melody. When I continued to answer I didn't know they only made the pain worse." he was really angry at this point and his eyes were flaming red. "I remember fighting my way out, killing at least half a dozen of those bastards. Then I was found in an alley by someone and they fixed me up. I owe them my life for that. But when I was back to normal I wasn't myself. I was...this." he gestured towards his face.

"And here we are...." he told her gesturing to her.

"Some blocks of missing time, huh?" She said. "I do know what that's like. My best advice is to leave them alone, Matt. Sometimes we're better off not knowing that stuff we were spared remembering. Sometimes it is far kinder. I'm sorry you went through all that, but I'm glad you're back. The new look isn't bad, but you'll have to give me a bit of time to get used to it."

She put the bottle of solvent on the table, deciding that she would perhaps allow Jess to decide if he wanted to clean the paintballs off Walburga's portrait or not. "Don't drink that," she told him. "I'm not sure exactly what its made out of. I presume you saw Walburga's neon paintball splatters. Michael's work. Some new hex he designed. Not removable by a normal finite for some odd reason. Anyway, I got my dad to come up with a solvent to clean off Michael's magical paintballs--if Jess decides to clean her up. Speaking of Michael, you know he won't give you much mercy with his nicknaming, new look or not. Michael is Michael, regardless."

She took a sip of her firewhiskey and studied him a moment and the sandwich before asking about her next thoughts.

"So, do you still have your place? Or are you in need of a more permanent place?" She knew Matt typically returned here when his own living situation was up in the air. "The reason I ask, is that Brian and I have more than doubled our property, and we've added a barn, larger stables, and--five new guest houses. They're all 3-4 bedroom log homes, all done in either Mission style decor or American Southwest. But--you're welcome to whichever one you want--for as long as you like. Unless I can confince you to make yourself at home in one of the extra rooms in our main house.

"I think you'll like what Brian's done. I think he's taking the whole fatherhood thing very seriously and he's been thinking about raising a very healthy family. He's added a gym, a pool, crops, a large orchard of fruit and nut trees, livestock, a stocked pond, paved riding trails through the woods, and he's found natural spring water. We're totally self sufficient and completely unplottable. What's not to like--except 5 kids in diapers all at the same time?"

Matt really couldn't help but let a small smile break his face. Brian WOULD be all into the fatherhood thing. Khaat was always looking out for him and he always took it. But this one time he figured he'd be on his own. He was nearly thirty after all. Something changed him down there, made him change his mind about things. But he didn't know what it was and it was killing him. He wanted to know so bad! He couldn't help but continue to ponder it. It was important to him, he was nearly killed. He sighed and shook his head looking down at the table in front of him.

"Always so hospitable Khaat," he chuckled looking at her. "every time that I end up on the streets you're there to catch me and help me back up." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "But I think this time I'll take care of myself." he smiled at her. "I appreciate it, more than you know. But this time I feel I should handle myself without any help. I'm nearly thirty after all!" he couldn't help but smile. "I'll have to come by and visit. I can't wait to hear Michael's new nickname for me."

He pulled out his wand and put it on the table. "Something's been going on with my wand, Khaat." he said. "IIt's almost as if it has emotions..." he trailed off. "It's been going on for a while now, before I was taken. It would heat up whenever I was angry or before something dangerous happened. But it's more than that, I feel obliged to call it a her. It's really odd, and I didn't think much of it at first until I found it...in my pocket, when it had been taken off my person when I was taken. That's how I managed to escape..."

"You know what's best," she said. "But you know you're always welcome." She listened to his story about his wand.

"Well," she said, "Perhaps its some sort of energy transfer. It wouldn't be entirely unheard of. Especially for wizards who have been through traumatic experiences. My father understands it a bit better than I do, but it sounds similar in some ways to what you're describing. I don't know exactly how it works, but from what little I know, it reminds me a bit of how a horcrux is supposed to work. Some sort of fragmenting of a bit of a witch or wizard's energy and then its implantation into something or someone else. But thats about all I know.

"I heard some tales that Nicolas Flamel had experimented with some of that stuff, but I don't know much more than that. I don't know if he really did experiment with it or if he ever got it to work if he did. I've been on the hunt for his last journals for years for reasons of my own, and I have yet to find out where the heck they went.

"But if you feel like your wand is a she, then perhaps she is," Khaat shrugged. "Sounds like finding out could be an interesting adventure in itself whenever you decide you want to find out."