Isolation

Albus tilted his head, ever-so-slightly to the side, and a faint smile found echoes in his face, "Cross my heart and hope to die." He was mildly curious though. Jack Dyllan had not been known to take caution in the past. Problems.....assets. Hmm.

Even as he waited for her response, his mind flitted back to all those careful plans, carefully constructed over lonely nights, amidst wonders on whether they would ever come to fruition. He had actually been considering discussing them with Jack for quite sometime, today's ah...incident, was just a catalyst. If someone asked him why Jack, then he would have coolly delivered a Slytherin's response: she was a known agitator, she had contacts among the ministry and people in power, not to mention the Order. But the truth was...

The truth was that no matter how pathetic it sounded, right now, a person whose friendship he had been denying an hour earlier, was the only person in the world who Albus could talk to.

His tone was studied, careful, "Speaking of which....I did have something I wished to tell you."

Jack knew it was bad to already be disclosing such important information as she was planning on telling him, but... Jack did not like the rules, alright? She paused, before delivering the information. "I am officially the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. So... you know, we already have some support. Because I plan on making some important changes there." She wasn't exactly super proud of it, but she was a little excited to make a change.

The Order had been really terrible in the past. No real progress, failed attempts at action - it was the whole reason Jack hated people in the masses. They just didn't work together well. Ever. But she planned on taking the group by storm, and she intended on somehow working with the rebels. But she also knew it would be difficult to work with both groups. Still - she was certain she could do it. If anyone could, she was sure she could threaten her way into success.

"Just found out today," she said, by way if explanation. She drank some more but he caught her attention by informing her that he had something secretive of his own to tell her. She looked up with interest, saying, "Shoot."

Jack Dyllan. Leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

Albus stared at Jack for a few minutes, bit his lip, then snickered.

Oh, he generally didn't resort to such crass...uh...James-like reactions. But..considering her past history, and her general lack of patience, and her zero tolerance for incompetence, and her...overall Jack-ness...could you really blame him?

"Sorry" Albus forced out amidst chuckles, "But the very idea of you being head of the Order of the Fried Turkey..." Albus stopped in his tracks as though struck, crap, she certainly wouldn't appreciate the term of uh..endearment, she was leader for Circe's sake, "Uhm..I mean, you'd make a very fine leader." He nodded rapidly. "Very fine indeed."

It was good news though. The Order wasn't a joke....completely. Its support would definitely come in handy. And now was his turn to talk. Looking back on it, he probably shouldn't have sort-of laughed at Jack, it wouldn't be pleasant if she returned the favour, "Well...there are two things, actually. First, I've kind of sent a message to all those who might be interested in the rebellion, asking them to meet me." He cleared his throat, feeling oddly self-conscious. "Second.....I've..um......have you heard of a book released lately? Verba Non Facta, by Raiden Prince?"

Jack openly sneered at him as he began to laugh at her, but said nothing against it simply because, in a way, it was a compliment. Jack liked to work alone and she liked that people knew it. Sure, she had found herself leading more often than people often knew - Potter's Army, her Hogwarts Quidditch team, and during her stint in the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. And yet, even though she considered those times to be successes, she knew her leadership techniques weren't exactly conventional or even appropriate.

"Very careful," she warned. "I have an army now. This would be a bad time to become my enemy."

She listened to him, not any more interested in her news than anyone else would be in such information. Her eyebrows flew up into her hairline at his words. "Wow. It's really happening. That's... That's amazing."

But he wasn't done. Her eyebrows now met. "Yeah. My friend back at the Ministry sent me a copy. Haven't started it yet though. Why?"

"I'm quaking in my boots.' Albus voiced dryly. He wasn't scared of Jack. She was Jack, for heaven's sake. It was rather difficult to be afraid of a pale-faced, messy-haired woman who made it a point to maintain a disheveled appearance at all times. Sure, she could probably hold her own in a physical fight, maybe even break a rib or two, she could throw a damn good punch as evidenced by his aching shoulder, she was probably very fast and agile in a duel with knowledge of quite a few nasty curses and hexes......

Ok, maybe there was a reason for concern. But the words were said and done.

She didn't laugh at his news. She sounded.....awed. A warm feeling spread through Albus's chest. Yes, he couldn't believe it was happening either. But it was too early to count chickens, not while the eggs were still unhatched. "I know......but we can't be assured yet. I don't know if many will come." If anyone will come.

Right. So she had heard of the book. Good. He started carefully, "Its a sort-of satire on the ministry....it talks of European governments of the nineteenth century, but only an idiot wouldn't realise the author was insulting the present British government. It..." He worked his throat again. Goodness, there really wasn't any reason to be so.....nervous, for the lack of a better word. The words shot out of his mouth quickly, "It was written by me."

Jack knew she was terrifying, and she didn't need the youngest Potter boy to reassure her on that behalf. She knew that if she raised her arm and gave him a look, he would flinch and maybe even yelp.

They all did.

"Someone will come," Jack said. "There has to be someone out there who has seen what's happening and wants to change it. If no one shows up then... Hell. I'm moving to Iceland if no one else cares what is going on."

She listened with piqued interest to his summary of the book. When he delivered the big news, her mouth parted in surprise. She blinked a few times, not sure how to handle it. She was excited to hear he had actually done something really.

She slowly raised a hand. "High five, mate! That's wicked!"

"Thanks." Reassurances didn't matter, of course. But they had to be given. Because words meant nothing, and yet meant everything. Someone other than you believed in the dream, believed in you indirectly, and support, even if it is just verbal, provided one of the countless bricks required to build a monument.

"Though it would have been so nice if you moved to Iceland......." Albus painted a stupidly hopeful smile on his face, and mimed staring off into the distance. His lips were moving traitorously up though, betraying hints of an amused, almost-roguish smirk. She didn't need to know, or perhaps she already knew, that if she did suddenly decide to pack up her bags and leave his life, then he would eventually retreat back to his safe place, the shell. All these fantasies, plans....would remain forever unfinished.

Then Jack delivered her exclamation on the book, and Albus gave into the urge, and let his forever-calm facial features be overwhelmed by a brilliant smile. He had been longing to hear one, atleast one person's appraisal of his idea, his work, and Jack didn't dole out praises easily. Something shivered in his chest, and he felt like.....like he had actually accomplished something. He raised his hand, and high-fived Jack's. "Th-thanks.....the idea had been trapped in my mind for a long time, and I just..." He smiled, almost to himself, "Set it free."

Jack smirked. "Careful what you wish for, buddy," she warned. Sometimes, Jack wanted to be a bit terrifying and go through with things like that. For example - one time she had lectured an employee back at the Ministry and had heard him say, as she was on her way out the door, "Go wash an elephant." So, naturally, the next time he had come into his office, he had been surprised by a miniature elephant sitting on his desk while Jack patiently washed the creature with a soapy sponge.

She wondered how surprised Albus would be if he received a letter from her with a picture of her posing next to a 'Welcome to Iceland' sign.

She could see he was very proud of his accomplishment, for he returned the high five with what looked like pride. He stuttered out some Author Talk and she nodded. "That's great! It's one way to stick it to those bastards!"

Albus smiled. Then blinked. And blinked again, a bit languorously. God, his eyelids were starting to feel heavy. Slowly, during their conversation, someone had emptied even more water into the painting that was his surroundings, and the colours were flowing so freely that everything seemed out of focus, except Jack's face.

There was a short silence after Jack's comment. Albus didn't feel awkward, not like last time they had met and when all was quiet, the secrets confessed seemed to weigh down on the air of the room. This time it was a companionably comfortable silence, one in which people stare in different corners of the room and think without the need of voicing their thoughts aloud. It spoke buckets about how much their relation had progressed, this silence. Albus looked up into the ceiling and wondered: maybe he wouldn't feel so panicked after all the next morning.

"S-so.." Albus's soft word was broken by a yawn. "Wh-who was that girl who you sent off to watch television. Your relative?" He paused after the question. What if it was her daughter? A mumbled chuckle slipped through his lips. Now he knew he was drunk, if such thoughts started striking his head.
(( Sorry for the late reply!!!))

The atmosphere between them again changed - but this time, to a more comfortable, if a somewhat tired, silence that seemed to sit more nicely upon them. Jack held the neck of the bottle of mead loosely between her fingers, enjoying the coolness of the glass against her rough palms, roughened by Qudditch and handing magical creatures and running around on crazy adventures.

He yawned and she opened her mouth, preparing to offer him this room for the night and excuse herself when he interrupted her. She furrowed her brow in thought and then smiled, realizing he meant Sunny. "Oh, that's my niece Sunny. She sort of... surprised my brother. He didn't know about her until recently, and neither parent was responsible, so, one day, I got a letter telling me she would be waiting at the train station for me later that day."

(It's okay. Sorry for the short response - trying to catch up).