How to Sell Your Soul to the Devil Herself

((OOC: For some reason this post feels a bit meh, I can't figure out why. Oh, and I've had the last paragraph planned for ages, have fun.))

"Correct," Katrina-Carlotta replied smoothly, "the spell is largely dependent upon power. However, finite control is also very important. One must have enough control over their magic to create a duplicate with every detail identical to that of the caster. When learning, one creates the duplicate one limb at a time. Upon mastering, this process is simply sped up."

Quite pleased with the way Albus was analyzing all the possible uses for the spell, the woman continued, "you are thinking intelligently, I commend that. However, one must remember that if the duplicate dies there is no body left behind. While that would not be suspicious for an execution via the Veil of Death, it would be quite obvious for others. Just like any other spell, there are limitations."

The dark witch took a moment to regard her student's face before answering his question. It was obvious that Dyllan was even more of a soft spot than the dark witch had thought. Not wanting to create distance between Albus and herself, the woman took the easy and intelligent way out. "The use of bringing up her name today was unprofessional of me as an advanced duelist. For that I apologize. As for my doing so before, I was simply making an observation, it was not my intention to irritate. I shall try to prevent myself from mentioning Jack Dyllan in future," Katrina-Carlotta's words were smooth but truthful. If Dyllan could effect Albus that much, the dark witch would be happy enough to keep her out of conversation.

"And now it is my turn to change the topic of discussion," the woman announced without giving the male any time to talk. "Albus Potter, I have recently come to a realization of sorts. Are you the Rebel Leader?" Katrina-Carlotta's voice was firm, but not to the point of being harsh. She had come to the realization at the last Death Eater meeting, and no matter how much Lorcan D'Eath doubted that the group had any true leader, the pieces fit far too well for the European to comfortably ignore.

From frying pan to the fire, as Shakespeare would say.

Albus felt like he was trudging through particularly treacherous marsh, or toiling up a hill after a landslide; one faulty step and everything would be lost. His breathing was still harsh, his knees still quivering from the aftermath of the duel. Phantom aches ghosted over his body, pounding in his brain and leaving his chest drawn tight and lungs breathless. Dark Magic was not a toy. It wasn't the romanticised thing of the ages, a seductive lover that caressed your skin and spoke with silky voices into your ear. It was harsh, punishing, as unforgiving of weakness in the caster as in the target. You had to train your body to serve as a conduit to such power without side-effects.

And du Hunt's relentless questions. They rammed into his mind, deceptively soft and generous, fiendishly eager to claw out secrets and weaknesses. Albus had no doubt that the witch....liked him, if that was possible. He also was equally certain that if he ever turned against her, these very weaknesses would be burnished in acid salt and scraped with rusted nails: to bleed and wound. Even after becoming an ally, Katrina Carlotta du Hunt could never be a friend.

He was shaky, tired. He wanted to slump, to react in panic to her last question, to let his eyes widen and let du Hunt easy access to her answer. But too much was at stake, and Jack's attendance of the last Rebel meeting could have easily led her to the assumption that the Order and the Rebels were allied. With almost superhuman effort, Albus let an eyebrow twitch, then rise to his hairline. "The Rebels? You mean that vigilante organization intent on bringing the Ministry down? Oh, I agree with their objectives alright."

His next words were chosen carefully. "You sound like you're certain. If so, there's no point of asking me anything. Think that I'm the Rebel Leader, or Grindelwald, or the next Minister of Magic if you wish. There never was any harm in thinking."

Too late, he realised that this careful avoidance of a denial would certainly equate to an acceptance in du Hunt's mind. But his ambiguous words would provide him security in the future, if required. Legal security. He had more or less confessed it, hadn't he? Was it accidental, or unconsciously deliberate?

Pursing her lips, Katrina-Carlotta let out a sigh at the words of the ever-intelligent Potter. If she had been truly trying to get the male to admit to being deeply involved with the Rebels, his words would have been good enough to base a strong assumption off of, but not enough to remove all doubt.

Quickly readjusting her angle, the dark witch sheathed the wand that had been loosely held in her palm. "Albus, that was not a trick question," the assassin admitted softly. Oh how Marie would laugh if she could see her now. It was rather peculiar, how honest the assasin was around the young Potter. Not that the woman expected Albus to realize such, to him she would probably always be little but cold and calculating.

"You are correct in that your words did not change my mind, but I am hardly certain about my thoughts. To be too certain is to be inflexible, and inflexibility leads to stupid and fatal mistakes in dark practitioners. Far too many wizards have learnt that the hard way," Katrina-Carlotta stated, taking a moment to mourn a wizard she had once trained along side.

"But I digress, the Death Eaters are not fond of the group calling themselves the Rebels. I disagree with the plans the Death Eaters are creating, their plots are malformed for what I wish to achieve. I was only wondering if you held any interest in the information I've gathered on the topic," the European said, face carefully blank.

"Or, we could just drop the politics and get back to the magic you came here for," Katrina-Carlotta offered, almost wishing that Albus picked that latter. There was a reason that the witch had stayed out of politics as much as possible in the past.

"The Death Eaters are not fond of the group calling themselves the Rebels."

"They are......not?" For a few flickering seconds, even in his drawn out state, Albus felt his interest stir; like a slumbering lion it shook and stretched sinuously, then peaked up, lapping at information. Morals or not, he was still a Slytherin after all. Tactics, politics, no matter how reluctant and recalcitrant, still came naturally to him. This movement had been in the making for a long time. It was lagging now, limping and burning out, and Albus needed a strong push to rejuvenate it. His loyalties remained unchanged of course, but there surely was no harm in using whatever resources at hand to wake the Rebellion up and send it plowing into the very foundations of the Ministry.

"That is...strange. I mean, Death Eaters have always been against the administration, and the Rebels are driving towards that very goal. They seem more similar to me than not." Albus did not maintain eye contact with the Dark witch, but his words were too full of implications that he himself didn't understand fully, but felt compelled to give. "Not that I claim to know what the Rebels actually think, of course." He added quickly. "Its just.....they sound very open.."

"Information is never uninteresting." Albus wanted to get back to the learning, of course he did. Its just.....he was magically drained, thats all. Not a very conducive state for learning the more archaic forms of spells and curses. And he was mildly curious, yes. "If you're offering it, well......I'm not a person to say no. If you prefer not to though," He clasped his wand, not letting the exhaustion show. "I'm ready to get back to the magic."

Letting out a mildly reluctant sigh that she didn't even have to fake, the dark witch shook her head. "I'll inform you of the gist of it, so long as you drop the act. I'm not an idiot Albus. While we may have never admitted so much to each other, I know that you're somehow involved with the Rebels, just as you know that I'm involved with the Death Eaters," Katrina-Carlotta admitted with a single raised brow. After all, she never would have come to Albus with this information if she wasn't already positive that he knew about a certain tattoo decorating her left arm.

Conjuring two wooden armchairs with a few precise movements of her wand, the assassin collapsed into the larger one with a mite less grace than usual. Shifting to the side so that one arm was thrown casually over the back of the chair and so her left foot was flat on the seat next to her right thigh, the witch moved her entire body slightly to the side so she could face Albus. While many would consider the position to be seductive, that was hardly Katrina-Carlotta's goal. The European only wished to be comfortable, and if her relaxed pose helped the wizard to feel inadvertently more at ease, then the female would hardly complain.

"When it comes down to it, I agree with you," Katrina-Carlotta stated dryly, "the two groups would be able to accomplish far more together then they ever would whilst separate. Human stupidity will never fail to amaze me, the idea to join forces never even flew through the minds of most of them! Sabotage did, sitting back and watching what happens did, but not once did they properly consider the best option by far. Of course, I'm uncertain of what the Rebel take on the matter would be, hence my bringing up the topic with you."

Throwing her head back in a clear sign of irritation, Katrina-Carlotta slowly brought her head back up. Glancing at the man many years younger than she, the assassin pulled a blood pop out of the inner pocket of her robe. Unwrapping it quickly in a way that demonstrated familiarity with the movement, the European popped the lolly into her mouth. "There's a reason why I didn't go into politics, you know," Katrina-Carlotta told Albus with a wry smile.

Maneuvering the sweet within her mouth so that the little white stick held between her lips twirled in lazy circles, Katrina-Carlotta's mind thought back to the manners lessons her mother had tried to drill into her as a child. Figuring that she might as well, the witch removed the candy for long enough to look at Albus and ask, "would you like one?"