Always good to catch up

Jess sat in the drawing room of no. 12 Grimmauld place, reading a book on muggle cooking.

Namely, sweets.

See, while he was feeling better now, the strong tasting wizard sweets he had once so-loved, now churned in his stomach and made him feel rather green, pun not intended.

So for now, when his sweet tooth burned, he was rather limited to the mild flavoured muggle sweets he'd once passed off as "drab" or "boring"

And of course, he was rather remiss to travel to Gringotts every day, have his money converted, then wander into Muggle London in search of a sweet shop (he'd never use the same one twice) that sold his preferences.

No, all in all, making them himself was by far the best option.

Except... it wasn't... Who knew the garbage these things were packed in. God, Jess'd rather eat troll bogies than this stuff.

However, when it came down to it, he really did want it, so there he sat, trying to figure out how he'd make something with a .08% fruit content.

Glancing up at the clock, he remembered that he'd have guests soon, before returning to his book.

Khaat was trying to pry her father out of the potions lab. He'd done very little, night or day, but look for the antedote for the green itch. She had managed to talk him into, finally, getting out. She had bribed him with fish and chips at the Leaky--one of his favorite unhealthy meals. She had refused to bring it to him, made him go out. They had timed it with a momentary stop at Sparks for Khaat to sign paychecks and then going to get reacquainted with Jess.

While they were there, Lizzie handed Khaat a box. "Are we taste testing again?" Khaat asked.

"Please? For the winter dessert menu?" Lizzie asked.

"Okay," Khaat smiled. "We'll let you know." She handed Lizzie the stack of signed paychecks and picked up the box. "We need to go or we'll be late." She took her father's offered arm and they apparated to Grimmauld.

"At least Walburga won't screech at us today," Robert said.

"I thought Michael painted her mouth shut when he was here last," Khaat said.

"He did but if I know Jess, he's felt sorry for her and undone it," Robert said, as they went up the steps and going inside.

"Jess? You here?" Khaat called.

Right on time, as usual.

Jess closed his book, a frown on his face as he decided that whatever Monounsaturated Fat was, he probably wouldn't find it in one of his dusty potions tomes, and rose from his chair calling "Come in" as he did so.

"Khaat, Robert," He said, leaning forward and giving Khaat a brief hug and kiss on the cheek, and shaking Robert's hand (excuse the godmoding) all the while smiling broadly. "Long time no see, I really must apologise for up and leaving. It got bad for a few days there, I must say." He informed them, a dark shadow crossing his face for a minute.

"But I'm feeling better now. It ran its course, I believe, just a few itches here and there remaining." He told them with a little shrug before returning to his cheery demeanour.

"And how about yourselves?! How have you both been?" He asked, gesturing for them both to join him in taking a seat.

"You're looking good" Khaat said. "You could have sent for me, you know." Jess seemed to know how to rally even after harsh injuries or illnesses, and he wasn't the type to send for her. He tended to deal with those things himself. She knew that too well. He did look good to her, though, despite the fact that, clearly, things had been tough. "We understand. We've been out of touch a bit ourselves."

"Indeed," Robert said. "I'm still antidote hunting. And Khaat had to make a trip on my behalf to Rome recently. Michael doesn't always make the wisest choices." They followed him and took seats.

"Don't tell tales," Khaat told her father, setting the box on the coffee table. "Michael is out of jail now, and that wasnt his fault." She untied the string around the box. "Lizzie sent a sample of her holiday goodies for us to try. We might as well open the box." She opened it to find it looked like every feasible Christmas goody known to the wizarding world.

"She's serious, isn't she?" Robert frowned. "Help yourself, Jess. We really need to cut her idea list by about half. Good heavens."

"You know," Khaat said, "its been entirely too long since we had a chance to just breathe a bit. Shall I go make some tea while you two peruse Lizzie's box?"

Jess chuckled and waved off Khaat's suggestion, knowing that they were both already at the same conclusion as to the chances of him ever accepting someone else's health, unless he was on death's door.

Still, he couldn't help but let the surprise show when Khaat mentioned Michael and a stint in jail - admittedly, he'd not seen that coming (though he probably should have.) For a moment he opened his mouth, as if to say something before closing it and shaking his head. "I wont even go there," he muttered with a grin.

"Are we any closer to the antidote than we were before I left?" he asked, focusing a little more than before. "Is there anything that can be gleaned from those of us who suffered the course of the illness? I'm happy to give samples of hair or blood.. whatever's necessary if you need it," he told Robert, his tone serious.

"I'll have the same Tea I always have if you don't mind, Khaat, Irish. You know where to find it, top cupboard, don't go for the cheap stuff," he instructed her with a wink, "and thanks as well," he added.

After she had left, he grabbed an item that looked like a tree shaped cookie, and took a bite. He allowed himself to groan a little as he tasted the treat before he locked eyes with Robert. "How is she?" He asked, glancing at the floor to indicate he was talking about Khaat.

Robert watched Khaat go to make tea. Then when Jess addressed him, he spoke.

"She's right, you know. Michael was innocent. Khaat knows how Michael doesn't like much of his life getting out. But--there was an old flame of his in Tuscany that shares his, well, profession. The problem with Alette is that as she's aged, she's developed some numbness in her hands. She's lost her touch. Michael bailed her out three times this summer from near misses when she tried to prove herself. This last time that he went to her rescue, she broke a near priceless piece of art glass in Venice and they got caught. He did a night in jail before my counterpart found out and contacted me, and since I couldn't go, Khaat went and got him out. The Italian government knows Michael was trying to do the right thing, and they've dropped their charges against him. Alette might not end up so lucky. We'll see.

"As for Khaat?" Robert switched gears. "I don't know when I've seen her happier. She's largely taken everything thats happened in stride and focused on a home life with her kids and with her slightly overprotective husband. I have had some recent intel, though, from the continent that suggests that Rob Dent might well be dead. I haven't told her, though. He's just slippery enough that it might not be true. And as long as there's no body, I'd rather leave that alone.

"So what about you?" Robert asked. "Another narrow scrape, Jess? Very few people who got so ill, if that's what it was, survived. You're either lucky, or you're doing something right."

Jess nodded thoughtfully as he listened to Robert's explanation of Michael's exploits. It sounded like a real shame what was happening, but laws were laws, and if skills were either inadequate, or were not being put to good use (as with Michael) then often consequences arose. It was an idealistic notion, but Jess always hoped he'd have the good sense to quit the game while he was ahead, rather than end up like Alette.

"That's the right move to make, I'll put my feelers out too, but until I know that he's dead, he's alive, simple as that. Rob Dent is probably one of the slipperiest men I have met," he concluded grimly, shrugging slightly as he bit into another treat.

Once more a valid point was raised and Jess couldn't help but cock an eyebrow and wink. "Maybe I just have a few tricks left up my sleeves," he suggested, a small grin playing on his lips for a second before shaking his head with a short laugh. "No, luck was all that saved me. Maybe I did some things which I've known to aid my immune system in the past, but otherwise luck was my best friend." He assured the older man, all air of amusement gone from his demeanour. "How long away are we away from the cure?" He inquired.

"Not long," Robert sighed, tired of weeks of isolation in the sub-basement potions lab at St. Mungos. He'd been there practically without end for longer than he was starting to remember. He was splitting his time between Ministry duties and potions research. And he knew that this was not going to be a 'win' for him either way. To do the job to find the cure, it meant being far less visible in the Ministry. And to be visible in the Ministry meant condemning every man, woman, and child with magical skill to illness or death.

"I've gotten the toxin isolated, but its a mutation from any poison we've ever known," Robert said. "As close as I can figure, its either from the singularly most brilliant potions mind of all time. Or it was a bungled mess. Some concoction gone terribly wrong. I haven't figured that part out either. So, in short, I don't know if we have a brilliant new threat or a colossal idiot. Doesn't seem like much, does it?

"But I'm working on tearing down the elements in the toxin and I've been working on variations of antitoxins. But so far, the antidote is worse than the curse. Anything I've come up with that would reduce the symptoms would destroy all healthy systems first. I'm close. But not close enough. Its maddening," he said, not intending to reveal his frustration but realizing he had revealed a spark of it. "Sorry," he said. He began to smell the tea. Fragrant, warm, comforting. A nice blend. She would be bringing it in a moment.

Jess nodded as Robert explained his problems, a frown forming on his face as he watched his friend with concern. The problem was eating Robert up, he could tell, from the core of his existence. He was torn between what was right, what was necessary, and what he wanted. Of course, a level of overlap existed between the three, however there was no right answer as to which course he should take.

"Well, at least you're doing something. The only thing that prevented me from not returning was knowledge that if I'd stayed here, I'd be dead, and no good to anyone," he admitted, staring bashfully at his hands. "It really ate me up while I was away, not being here to help you all. Not knowing what was happening. But it was necessary," he concluded, looking up as Khaat came in.

"Ah, lovely, thank you," he said, accepting his drink and sipping on it. "Just the way I like it," he added with a wink