Unlikely Bedfellows

Marcus had talked with Khaat and, after a bit of debate, she had agreed to meet with Du Hunt. There had been some debate upon where to hold the meeting, not because of fear of Du Hunt, but rather because of how difficult it was for Khaat to be out of bed at all. It had been her husband, Brian, who had suggested reserving one of the rooms upstairs in the Leaky. He sent the owl with the appropriate date and time to Du Hunt.

Marcus and Brian had gone early and had prepared the room to suit her medical needs. The bedroom furniture had been eliminated. Instead, she had insisted it be furnished as a sitting room, and they had done so. The reality was that she wasn't going to be able to sit up unassisted, and she had been relentlessly stubborn about what she would not allow. She finally compromised and agreed on a sofa for herself, with piles of pillows behind her to sit up.

They had added some wing chairs, coffee table, end table, and some tasteful accessories. Brian had lit a fire in the fireplace, and, at Khaat's insistence, they'd prepared an appropriate tea tray. It was, diplomatically, the proper thing to do. Khaat didn't have anything against Death Eaters, despite the fact that she was a known Order member. She intended to show the appropriate respect.

The struggle they had to contend with was that they had not released or revealed what exactly had disabled Khaat. They could not possibly hide it. It was ridiculously obvious. She had nearly bled to death and had been critical for days. Her left cheek and her neck had been clawed and scarred by the werewolf James Blood. Those scars could be removed in time, but they surely were not pretty.

The worst injury was the devastatingly severe crushing that Blood had done to her left shoulder. From bone to ligament to tissue, it was all crushed. It was still completely immobilized, wrapped and bandaged, and they could not risk it moving in the slightest. The bindings were so large that it was impossible to hide, no matter how skilled the wizard. And the fact remained that no one knew if it would heal, or if she'd ever move it again.

Her only choice was to try to minimize the glaring white bindings by wearing a white silk blouse so that it didn't contrast so sharply. She had chosen black dress pants and simple flats instead of her ever present tall heels.

Marcus had made a career out of serving heads of state, so while her husband insisted on satisfying himself that the room was secure, Marcus helped her make a final check of the glamour spell that provided her makeup and hair, and made sure she looked appropriate.

"Its alright?" she asked him, as he handed her a dose of pain potion to get her through this. Brian nodded and went downstairs, satisfying himself with a pint, and staying well out of the way. He didn't distrust Du Hunt. Not under these circumstances. Not while there were far more sinister enemies to worry about today. He was watching for them. Not so much her.

"Its fine," he said, not telling her that for some reason, she looked tinier to him today. Then it struck him. He was used to her heels--making her look taller. It amused him momentarily, and he couldn't help but flash a smile at her. "You look fine," he said as she took the potion and set the glass aside. He checked his watch. Du Hunt would be along momentarily, he figured.

Katrina-Carlotta had been mildly amused upon first reading the location of their meeting. Upon a second glance, however, it did make a fair amount of sense. It was a public enough place to ensure that she wouldn't want to start anything or blow the place up, if that had been her motive. It was also rather diplomatic of them. She had half been expecting to be invited into Khaat's home. If that idea had been vetoed for security reasons, or so that that meeting could take place on neutral grounds, was unknown to her.

Upon reaching the correct room number, the European knocked three times. Opening the door a moment later, she slipped in and shut the entrance behind her swiftly but without much force. Dark eyes taking in the room, Katrina-Carlotta found herself inside what appeared to be a sitting room or parlor. Gaze falling upon the tea tray, the assassin was almost tempted to smile. They really were taking a diplomatic approach.

Finally allowing her eyes to fall upon Khaat Lupin herself, the assassin realized why the family hadn't informed the press of the woman's injuries. Her neck and one of her cheeks had been clawed so much, that it was somewhat of a wonder that the witch hadn't died of blood loss. The sight was slightly grotesque, but Katrina-Carlotta didn't even blink. She had seen far worse, caused far worse. She had hardly gained her reputation through being unable to handle the appearance of open wounds or scarred flesh.

Khaat was also wearing a large white bandage on her left shoulder. From what the European could tell, the Lupin was a proud woman. This told Katrina-Carlotta that the injury had to be pretty serious, or the other witch would refuse to wear such an obvious sign of weakness.

While Katrina-Carlotta often looked down upon the weak, she didn't look down upon the woman before her. This was different. Everyone got hurt, herself included. The fact that Khaat was before her today was a testament to her strength, despite how weak she looked supported by pillows as she was.

"Good afternoon Ms. Lupin," Katrina-Carlotta greeted with small smile, "thank you for meeting with me." Heading directly towards one of the wing backed chairs, the witch lowered herself into the seat. The positioning was perfect for her to be facing Khaat almost directly, but still allowed her a decent view of the door. "Mr. Belby," the woman continued once she was seated, "a pleasure to meet you again."

Aware of Khaat's pretty white blouse, the European was rather glad that she'd thrown on a necklace with her usual outfit of all black. She rarely wore jewelry, finding it a little pointless, meaning that every piece she owned had some other purpose than just looking pretty. The golden dragon pendant she was currently wearing could become animated and breathe fire. Admittedly, the tiny amount of fire could do very little damage, but Katrina-Carlotta had always had a thing for dragons.

Noticing Khaat's perfectly done makeup, probably a glamor but it was that fact that she'd done it anyway, the dark witch felt her respect for the Lupin raise a notch. She was refusing to appear as just a victim, and Katrina-Carlotta liked that. Leaning back in her chair, the woman prepared for what was sure to be a very interesting discussion.

Marcus set about taking the kettle off the hearth, putting the tea into the pot and pouring the fragrant Tahitian blend of tea into cups.  It was a blend Khaat liked, especially when she wasn't at her best.  Beneath the silky smooth taste of the Tahitian tea leaves, the blend had an unassuming blend of warm spices and some comforting notes of toasted almond. Belby had learned that Robert was a connoisseur of good tea, and that had translated to a plentiful collection of all sorts of teas at Khaat's estate. He offered a cup to Du Hunt before handing one to Khaat.

"It's a pleasure, Ms. Du Hunt," he said.

It didn't take Khaat more than a moment to size up Du Hunt.  She was confident, polished and poised.  She was not an ingénue. She was experienced, and she could see that Marcus's assessment of her being a mercenary was entirely correct.  In Khaat's world, a mercenary wasn't a bad thing--unless one was on the opposite side. And being on the wrong end of a mercenary's wand was generally a very bad thing indeed.

The other fact was that she had always had friends who were on all sides of the law.  The problem with Gryffindors was that they were unfailingly loyal to those they loved, whatever side of the law that person was on.  She was not, therefore, uncomfortable in the meeting.

She wasn't sure how she was going to be able to help, though.  The present situation in the Ministry was immensely complicated, and there was not a simple solution to it. She was, however, interested in hearing whatever Du Hunt had to say. She knew that Du Hunt was somehow affiliated with the Death Eaters, and she didn't know how.  However, for her to be here today, she surely had one of the top ranks in the time honored political faction.  Today's meeting was not one that the Death Eaters would ever have left to anyone without enough clout to be able to bring along with them the power to speak for the entire group and to negotiate if need be.

She had studied elegant, sharp black clothes Du Hunt wore. Khaat noticed quickly the little dragon pendant.  It was very unusual, and there was something about it that caught her eye.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Du Hunt," she smiled.  "Lovely dragon pendant, by the way.  Very unique.  Marcus told me that you have some important concerns.  It may well be that we have some concerns in common.  Please--tell me what brings you here and how I can help." She took a sniff of the pleasant aroma of the tea before taking a sip.

"Thank you," the dark witch said pleasantly, shifting slightly in her seat. Katrina-Carlotta found herself regretting that she hadn't planned what she was going to say. She never did normally, since it wasn't as though she ever followed previously-made plans, but it would have been useful in this situation. It was rare that the woman found herself lacking the words to express herself, but she supposed that politics could do that to even the most eloquent and practiced of speakers.

Her relocation to England was just as much a curse as it was a blessing some days. She would never have found herself in this position before the Death Eaters. Katrina-Carlotta had always known that her curiosity would get her killed someday, she just never expected it to land her into a situation like this. She blamed that stupid newly-recruted Death Eater that had stumbled across her all those months ago. It was a pity he was already dead. If she'd know what she knew now, the assassin wouldn't have killed him nearly so swiftly.

Licking her lips, Katrina-Carlotta inhaled deeply. Honesty was supposed to be the best policy when it came to light wizards, was it not? Didn't they respect that, or something equally as obscure? No matter what the reasoning was behind that particular belief, the European needed Khaat's trust. If honesty would get that, then honest she would be.

"The Marriage Law," she said bluntly, surprising even herself. "It's ridiculous. The blood-purests hate it, the free souls hate it, and the youngest generation is bound to rebel sooner or later. The number of citizens, intelligent and educated citizens, that are leaving the country right now? The highest number recorded in years. I'm hardly an expert in these things, but even I know how badly that's going to hit the economy. And then one has to take into account all the young wizards involved. Sixteen; they aren't even out of school yet. All of those young witches whom end up pregnant? They're not going to complete their education, meaning they're not going to be capable of holding any kind of decent job, which brings us right back to he destruction of the English economy."

Katrina-Carlotta's heart was beating faster than normal by the time she was finished, and she found herself blinking a few times in amazement. The woman literally had no clue where that had come from, but it sounded reasonable enough flowing sharply off of her tongue, so she would take it as a victory.

"On behalf of the Death Eaters, and as a citizen of a foreign nation that relies far too much on the English economy to be pleased by its crashing, we need your father back in the position of Minister. Yesterday," the woman announced, trading her usual eloquence for sharper more abrupt words. Hopefully they would drive her point home, instead of making her sound like an uneducated idiot.

"Ah," Khaat sighed, nodding slightly. "The marriage law. It is ridiculous. I agree, and it is turning our world upside down. Bondage, by any other name, is bondage nonetheless.

"I also agree with you that it needs repealed immediately if not sooner, and that takes my father to do that. That is the short term remedy, though. As you know, my father is not well. His would be assassin is dead, but that has not reversed his illness. We have as many skilled potions makers and healers as we can trust helping us to research to find either a potion or a spell to undo the damage."

The truth was that a countercurse to a miscast spell that appeared to be buggared to begin with was ridiculously hard.

"We must get him...well again..." she chose her words carefully. "Or his decision could be reversed again if he were not well when he signed the repeal.

"And then there's another huge complication. For the law to take place, someone had to be working on it ahead of time. They had it ready and put it through within a few short hours of the attempt on my father's life.

"So--they had to have some sort of part in his attempted murder as well. Thaor Elldir never had a co-conspirator for anything he did. So that tells me that whoever is behind it is deeply involved in the Ministry and has enough access to cause immense damage.

"We need to be finding the traitor in the ministry or he or she will just go deeper into hiding and cause deeper damage. And until I know who I can trust and who I can't, that's left me having, largely to act on my own."

"Then let me help you," the dark witch stated slowly. "I comprehend how difficult it might be for you to trust anyone right now, but there is little I could do to make matters worse, even if I wanted to," Katrina-Carlotta admitted. Her lips were forming the words without any permission from her brain. And that certainly was odd, considering that when such an occurrence happened she usually ended up cursing someone and not offering help.

The infamous Katrina-Carlotta offering to help out a light witch. Oh, how some of her enemies would laugh if they ever heard. It was a good thing they wouldn't, or her reputation would need some serious bandaging. Her reputation had indeed fallen when she'd joined the Death Eaters. The rumors of her settling down, so to speak, had dealt quite the impressive blow. Once word got out how high in the organization she had climbed, however, and in so little time, the nay-sayers had stopped spreading their condescending words. There were still those who doubted though, and Katrina-Carlotta wouldn't give them the pleasure.

"You're well aware that I have… different, connections than you do," the European stated, eyes boring into the blonde's, "if you'd be willing to tell me exactly what exactly is wrong with your father, I can work from there."

The idea of a traitor inside the Ministry did complicate matters greatly. Katrina-Carlotta hadn't been banking upon that, or had factored it anywhere inside her plans. Having to make an adversary disappear was little problem for the dark witch, but weeding someone out within the corrupt governmental system? It would be like searching for a painted wooden needle in a box of silver ones. Practically everyone inside the Ministry was guilty of something, finding the person guilty of one particular thing would be far from easy.

"As for the matter of the traitor, do you have any ideas at all? A list of possibilities, a probable Department, anything? At the very least, I could tell you who it isn't," Katrina-Carlotta said slowly, before realizing just how much it sounded like she was trying to protect the culprit from being discovered. "If you can bring yourself to trust me, that is," the assassin added with a cynical smile.

Du Hunt was correct.  So far as the Lupin family went, Du Hunt had only limited ability to hurt them at the moment, and it appeared she had little motivation to want to.  The rest of it was going all to hell quickly. She had to try something else.

Mercenaries generally wanted cash and/or power, which was what motivated them to work for the highest bidder.  Khaat's family had their share of enemies, but no one that immediately sprang off the pages in Khaat's mind as being wise enough and wealthy enough to design all this for the benefit of satisfying a personal grudge.

"Alright," Khaat said, knowing she had no ability to deal with this without her father or without the resources of the ministry.  Not if she didn't know who to trust.  "This takes explaining.  A wee bit of history first.  You'll find that Thaor Elldir went to Hogwarts at the same time as my father and my uncle. They had a fairly large circle of friends. Elldir was one of them.  Despite them being from various houses, the lot of them formed some strong friendships.

"I grew up knowing Thaor and having him as a family friend. He would have gladly died for my family and vice versa.  That all changed a year or so ago.  He started to behave as if his mind had utterly snapped for no reason. He seemed to just disappear and then became quite murderous.  

"I'm sure you read about the crimes he committed over the last year. We just hadn't been able to catch him, and it wasn't for a lack of trying.  He was paranoid enough that he just kept moving.

"It was he who attempted to kill my father by ambushing him in Diagon Alley and firing upon him.  It nearly killed my father instantly.  What we've figured out is that Thaor was bewitched.  What we don't know is by whom or why. To catch someone as bright and powerful as Thaor, whoever attacked him had to have caught him off guard somehow.  

"We've spent the last year trying to find some illness or some curse or some potion that adds up to his symptoms, hoping to find something that made sense and explained why he changed so dramatically. But nothing adds up.

"Our best guess is that someone cast a curse on him and buggered it when they cast it.  A miscast curse is ridiculously hard to counter.  It doesn't end there, though.  

"My father's remaining symptoms do not act at all the same as Thaor's. Not in the least.  Nor does it add up to anything we've seen. The best we can figure, from the memories of those who were there that night,  is that when Thaor attacked my father, it appeared that he miscast the thing again. And sane or not, the one thing Thaor could do effectively was cast a spell. If he had intended to curse my father, he'd have done it straight out. Getting the spell right was ego and pride, and he would not have screwed it up, no matter what.  That helped us understand the thing itself.

"This curse has some bizarre quality to it that it can be passed on from one wizard to another if they have skills as an energy worker--in other words, healers and seers. It seems to be transferrable, primarily by touch. But we cannot be certain that's the only way its passed on.  We just don't know."

She didn't say the last statement lightly.  Her tone was calm, steady, but they were difficult words to say.  It would serve to betray what was already common knowledge--how devoted her family was to each other.  

"My father's mind is completely intact, but because of the curse itself, he has to remain rather secluded. He would die and take the curse to his grave than to pass it on again to someone else."  She paused and then said quietly. "And I agree with him."

Katrina-Carlotta was baffled. She'd never heard of anything like that before. Curses that could be passed along by touch? She'd encountered a few of those. Spells that could control the mind? Those were common enough. Potions that would make even the strongest on men loose their sanity? She'd watched them be brewed. Curses that could bring out all the negative emotions in a person, leading them to do little but kill and destroy? She'd cast them herself. But this? No, she'd never encountered this.

The woman would never admit it, but that scared her.

Then there was the fact that both spells, the one on Mr. Lupin and Mr. Elldir, had been miscast. That had to be important, but the woman couldn't figure out why. That the magic on Mr. Elldir had been done imperfectly made enough sense, she supposed. The wizard was a good fighter, the one to do this to him could easily have been distracted or nervous. Then again, Khaat had said that Elldir must have been caught off guard, meaning that the planning involved must have been meticulous. Why would someone go to such lengths to ensure a perfect opening, only to miscast the spell? If it even was a spell. That wouldn't make any sense, meaning that the mistake was not a mistake, but purposely done.

But why would someone do that? Sure, it would be much more difficult to recognize and counter the problem, but miscast spells were unpredictable. There would be no way of telling how the miscast curse would affect Elldir. Katrina-Carlotta frowned slightly, that was a very large risk to take.

Elldir miscasting the spell could mean a number of things. Firstly, that he was only mimicking the spell that had been cast upon him. Since the man would not know the true curse, it would have to be a warped version of it. It could also mean that the man's mind, or at least a part of it, was still there and fighting, unwilling to cast a terrible curse on his friend. That, however, would make it more likely that he was being controlled, instead of just insane. It really was quite the puzzle.

Running her tongue along her top lip, the dark witch let out a soft sigh. "With your father, did anyone hear the incantation, any of it? Or was it cast silently? You said the curse is transferable by touch, does it have to be skin-on-skin contact? You also said primarily by touch, was that a slip in your speech, or is there another way for it to be transferred?" Katrina-Carlotta rattled off quickly, words almost slurring together in her haste to get it all out before she forgot something. The woman doubted that she would, but every little piece of information could be vital in a case like this.

"Your father has his mind, but how do we know that the madness isn't triggered by something, or takes a while to kick in? Do we know exactly when Elldir was attacked, or are you just guessing based upon when he started acting different?" the European asked a little slower. She wasn't trying be be cruel, but Katrina-Carlotta had never been one to soften the truth. If this was a possibility, even if the Lupin's didn't want to consider it, she needed to know.

A thought suddenly occurring to her, the dark-haired female's head jerked upwards slightly, to meet Khaat's eyes. "How do you even know that the spell on your father and Elldir are the same? They act quite differently. Is it possible that Elldir didn't pass his curse onto your father, but instead cursed him with a different one?" she queried. Katrina-Carlotta knew that she was just throwing out theories and guesses at this point, but it was the best she could do for now.

The woman would definitely have to ask Marie if she'd heard of anything like this. Even if the frenchwoman hadn't, hopefully one of her connections had.

"Excellent questions," Khaat said. "From what my father's friends have said, they were talking--just having a bit of a laugh. They were walking a block or so before breaking it up and going home when, they said, it just seemed to come out of nowhere.

"I believe they saw him, but it was after the fact. I don't know that they heard anything. That doesn't mean that there weren't words spoken, but if there were, they didn't hear them.

"The reason I said 'primarily' is because it seems to transfer to those witches or wizards who specialize in, for lack of a better term, energy work. The use of their own touch or their own senses to drive their magic--as opposed to those who use wands and potions. Seers, healers who heal by touch, that sort of thing.

"My father heals by touch. That's no secret. So do I. I'm also a seer, as are all the women in my mother's family. It uses our own energies. I don't know exactly how my father has figured out that it is more dangerous for energy workers, but I never knew of Thaor to be an energy worker. He was a wandmaker and made superb wands. He relied on his wand skills.

"The only thing I can figure out is that it has something to do with some part of the curse that my father hasn't been able to communicate to us yet. How he knows its transferrable, I don't know. But he is as certain of that as he is his own name. He's not entirely able to communicate all his ideas to us yet. The curse has made him entirely mute. Getting him anchored to write this all up for us isn't that easy, but we are trying.

"As far as when Elldir was attacked, all we have for certain to go on is the memory thread that he shared, and that had no time period attached, but it was during the time he was Deputy Minister, so that does give us a very narrow time window. The memory thread was of him receiving a message in his office in the ministry, going to the department of mysteries and being ambushed there.

"What we know about Thaor's intent is only in what he said to us before he died. He apparently had a moment of clarity and seemed to be really in mental agony that he had passed on a twisted form of his own curse onto my father. And that was ultimately what caused him to kill himself. He seemed to believe that it might undo part of the curse if he sacrificed himself, or so he told us just before he turned his wand upon himself."

Mute. Well that...changed things.

Katrina-Carlotta gave Khaat a sight nod indicating that she had heard the other witch, before promptly disappearing deep into the mess of spinning gears that was her brain. With every little piece of information that the other woman gave her, the curse seemed to get more and more complex. The dark witch was, and how she was loath to admit it, out of her depth.

The female wondered if the fact that it had happened in the Department of Ministries held any significance. If it did, Katrina-Carlotta couldn't see it. Wracking her brain for anything that could possibly be helpful, the European thoughtlessly pulled out a small blade and began to spin it in one hand in a rhythmic and clearly familiar movement. Fully aware that she wasn't about to suddenly remember a situation where she'd heard of the curse before, the dark witch re-opened her eyes.

"I've never encountered this before," the assassin admitted softly, "that doesn't mean that I won't find or come up with something, but that does mean that it certainly won't be today." Katrina-Carlotta paused for a short moment, considering if she should share a piece of information with the blonde, before remembering that honesty had worked pretty well for her so far. Never mind how peculiar and exposing it felt. After all, Khaat was sharing the well-protected secrets of her father's condition. If the Lupin could handle feeling venerable for a few moments, than surely she could too.

"I know of a ritual that should be able to bring back your father's voice. It won't remove the curse, just...cut out a small piece of it," Katrina-Carlotta explained, wincing slightly at the crude way she'd described the complex and frankly beautiful magic. If the other woman was more familiar with casting and the feel of dark magic, this would have been much easier. "It shouldn't react negatively with the existing curse, but I'd have to get a feel for it first, just to be safe. And it is, of course, dark magic," Katrina-Carlotta shared, allowing herself to smirk slightly. It was quite possible that at least one person in the family wouldn't allow any more dark magic anywhere near Robert. She'd just have to wait and see.