Lighting Old Flames

Marcus had, of course, been with her when she wrote the owl and when she had sent that ruddy big eagle to deliver it.  Rumor had it that Khaat's old friend and ally Jess Potter was back in town, and if there had been a time when Khaat had felt alone, it was now. If there were a time when she felt the burden of national security, it was now.  Marcus wasn't against her finding allies. Potter's dossier was clean.  There was nothing in it to make Marcus unnecessarily suspicious of the man.  When it came to protecting people he cared about, Marcus Belby was a lethal man. But then again, according to the dossier, so was Potter. In this case, that made him a friend before they met.

Khaat had wanted to talk to Jess, but that was hard to do in her current position.  This time, some of Khaat's family had come along with her.  They'd secured the private parlour on the basement--the one with the bar and the decent furniture. They'd stationed more bodyguards at the table near the basement door, both men pretending to drink pints and play a bit of chess with pocket sized Wizard's chess board.  They weren't working to be completely unnoticed. They wanted to warn off others from the basement, and so far it was working. The band of Lupin family and friends downstairs had taken to making tea, pouring pints, and helping Khaat make herself comfortable.

It had taken months for her to recover this far from the mauling she'd taken from werewolf James Blood.  She could stand, and she could walk short distances before she tired now.  She had chosen a place on a settee downstairs, a place that was slightly hidden in shadow, and she was using it, hoping the shadow would minimize the scarring Blood had done to the left side of her face and neck. It was something that Robert, until he was free of his own curse, was unable to heal for her.  Marcus didn't think Khaat seemed to care, though,  if Potter picked up on the fact that there was yet another Lupin to be born in April-ish.  

"What'll you have, Marcus?" Tom asked him.  

"Just a pint, please," Marcus said.  The barkeeper drew a pint for him from the tap and set it in front of Marcus

"I'll add it to the tab," he told Marcus, referring to Khaat's bill for the parlour and all the drinks everyone was buying today.  "Are you expecting someone I might know?"

"I'm hoping I know him when I see him," Marcus said, hoping to be a bit subtle and figuring the pub regulars would certainly know Jess and inadvertently tip Marcus off if he didn't immediately recognize Potter himself.  The kitchen door of the pub opened briefly for a server with a tray of fish and chips. Gliding over her head, the imposing figure of a large bald eagle floated noiselessly over the pub patrons before Archangel perched himself on Marcus's shoulder.  Marcus rolled his eyes.

"So inconspicuous," he remarked sarcastically to the bird, sighing. Why couldn't she have just an owl like everyone else?

It had come as little shock for Jess when a familiar looking eagle soared through the window of his bedroom at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Scarcely an hour back in the country and of course she would have to know that he was around.

With a sigh and chuckle he wrote his reply and tied it to the great bird's foot.
It took nearly 57 minutes for you to find out I was here, write the letter, and for the bird to deliver it. I'd have expected it to be under 30. You must be losing your touch, old friend. I'll see you shortly.
Jess.

And with that done he had little cause to dawdle. His few possessions he'd taken whilst galavanting around the world were already unpacked, and there were no pressing issues keeping him rooted in his room, so he turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack.

The Leaky Cauldron looked the same as ever, Jess thought, as he pushed its door open, making a beeline for his intended destination.

"Mr. Potter," Marcus said. "I'm Marcus Belby.  I was told to expect you.  Our apologies for the extra security, but she'll explain it shortly."  

Actually, he knew that Jess would see it for himself. There would be very few explanations necessary.  She seemed a wee bit nervous about seeing Potter again, as if he might not see her as the same person with the scars to her face and neck. It was part of what kept her hiding away from everyone. It wasn't the only thing, but it was certainly part of it. It had created, for her, a desire to not be seen in the rare times she went out now, and when she did go out, she needed to have Marcus close to her. And part of his job was to help her hide and to keep people away. Potter was different. He had made it through her resistance without even trying.

"You should know," he said, "some things have changed since you met last. We're downstairs."  He picked up his pint and went with Jess. As they neared the basement stairs, the guards playing chess looked at Belby.

"Are there more coming?" they asked.

"I don't know. You know who is safe and who isn't. Call me if someone strange arrives," Marcus said. He led the way downstairs to the basement rooms.

Jess nodded with a smile and shook the man's hand, reaching behind the bar with his other and pouring himself a flaggon of butterbeer as he did so, winking slyly at Tom. Having owned the Cauldron did have its perks some days, after all.

"Pleasure to meet you," he replied, following the man down the stairs and into the basement area, which had been changed considerably from when he last saw it. Where the space had once been used as a storage area, barrels of mead, butterbeer and firewhiskey lining the walls, a slightly cozy and more intimate sitting area now sat, slightly reminiscent, Jess thought, of one of the Three Broomsticks' private rooms.

He couldn't suppress a snort of laughter, however, at Marcus' instructions to the watchwizards.
"Knowing the crowd I draw strange is the only type of person who'll be arriving. It'll be far more efficient if you alert our friend here if someone dangerous should appear," he told them with a cheeky grin.

"Now," he began, "where is she?" He asked as he clapped his hands together and looked around the room.

Marcus was laughing as he came downstairs with Jess. That was one of the things she had missed since Jess had been gone--all the fun, all the laughter, even in the face of sometimes some pretty slim odds.

"Over here, Jess," Khaat called from the shadows as Michael Tremaine poured her a mug of tea and handed it to her.

"'About time you showed up, Potter," Michael teased. "See what happens? Leave us to our own devices for awhile and the whole thing goes to pot." Butterbeer? When had Potter become a teatotaller?

"He's right, you know," Khaat smiled. "I'm sorry for all the cloak and dagger stuff today. But when does my family not have some little bit of drama going on? I'm glad you're back. I've missed you."

Jess' ears pricked up as he heard his name, head turning as he sought out its source, before grinning and clapping his hands together. "Khaat my dear," he cried out, crossing the room quickly and drawing her into a tight embrace, noting, as he did so, her change in appearance since last he had seen her.

"It's lovely to meet up again, I'm sorry it's been so long," he told them quietly, still holding onto Khaat, before releasing her and taking a step back to scan the group before him. As always, Khaat had bought half the family with her, but Jess wasn't complaining. The Lupins, and their extended family, were some of Jess' best friends. He would always be glad to see them.

"Should have known you'd ruin everything Michael," Jess replied with an exasperated sigh, a roll of his eyes and a quick wink in his direction. "Nothing new there," he added, chuckling quietly as he took a mouthful of his drink.

And of course Khaat was quite right, it wouldn't be the same if everything was normal. Jess shuddered to consider such a horrendous thought. How boring life would be if everything quietened down.

"What've I missed?" He asked calmly, magically drawing a chair for himself to sit at.

"I'm glad you're back," she said, smiling. "Besides the fact that I missed you like mad, there are a couple of...small things...that I could use your help with, if you're up for a skirmish or two."

"Oh, lord," Michael sighed sarcastically, scowling at her. "If you're going to ask him to get over his head in this business, at least have the decency to be up front with him. Its not his first time 'round at this sort of thing, after all."

"I'm getting there," she said. "Did anyone ever tell you that you can be a pushy old buggar?"

"Frequently," he said, unphased. He handed a copy of the marriage law to Jess.  "'Don't know if you've been back long enough to see this or get your letter, but there's a bit of trouble at the Ministry.  Trouble that affects all of us. We all may well find ourselves married and with offspring soon--including you--if we can't find out who's doing this and stop them."

"And that is just the beginning," she said to Jess, sighing heavily. How did she tell him that Thaor was dead, her father was cursed, werewolves were killing humanity, and she'd made a deal with the Death Eaters out of necessity? He might need more than butterbeer, she figured.

Jess rolled his eyes when, as usual, the clan as a whole bickered lightheartedly amongst themselves, patiently listening and waiting for the conversation to inevitably revert to it's original course. He was curious as to what it was that had Khaat rattling sabers this time.

His patience was of course rewarded when Michael passed over a roll of parchment with a broken official looking seal on it. "No letters yet," he muttered in response to the querie, his attention drawn and held by the document before him as he unrolled it and skimmed over the introductory paragraph.

"But that's just horseshit," he muttered, looking up at his friends with a concerned look on his face. "Surely this isn't being accepted around the country?" He asked, avoiding the major topic in the room - why Robert no longer seemed to be in control of the ministry.

Of course, while he has been abroad jess had kept tabs on the situation back home - not to do so would be foolish - but until very recently nothing substantial seemed to have arisen. Either the developments before him were recent, or they were very hushed up.

"How does it work?" He finally asked, not daring to pursue her final remark

"Don't underestimate it, Jess," Khaat said. "Someone in the ministry has orchestrated this and altered our law such that the laws that are now made can only be created or altered or overturned by my father. I have no idea who the real power behind this is, but this law is very serious.

"They created the law, put my father's name to it, and put it into motion within hours of the assassination attempt on my father, the same night. At the time they law was actually executed, as near as I can figure, my father was barely alive. There's no way he did this.

"But--violate the law, and you go to Azkaban. Period. The law requires that all those of marrying age must be matched by the ministry, they must marry and prove they are fertile enough to have children. Clearly the next thing will be that wizarding families will be mandated to have children. The premise is that they are preserving the wizarding blood.

"The problem with that is that they are deliberately tinkering with the matches to make sure that purebloods don't marry purebloods, etc. In short, what they're actually doing is weeding out the muggleborns and also weeding out the purebloods. The resulting generations will be a hybrid of some nature, and who knows what that will do for the magical genetic profiles in the long run.

"But, women from 16 to 50 and men from 16 to 70 who are not currently married are being ordered to marry with the partner the ministry chooses for them or go to Azkaban. No exceptions. Michael's gotten his letter as well."

"I'm certainly not a fan of marriage," Michael said. "But I've met her. She's a beautiful woman--one that I might well have chosen as a friend, had we been left to our own devices. I don't know if we'd have been more than that, but I won't be responsible for her going to Azkaban because I won't cooperate. I don't mind going if she just can't stand me. That's different. But I won't live with the knowledge that I sent an innocent woman behind bars."

Khaat smiled sympathetically at Michael. "Daddy has let us know he'll offer to annul any that want it when he can return."

"Which brings us to another issue," Michael said. "Robert is on medical leave. We invited him to come today to see you, but he declined. He's been in hiding out of necessity since his attack. Jess--Robert isn't quite himself. He isn't quite as you remember him. Robert is, well, bewitched. He's suffering from a curse that we haven't been able to undo for him. He's in hiding in order to keep himself and others safe."

Jess listened, deep creases appearing in his brow as he considered the information, new questions popping up throughout Khaat's entire explanation, most of which were explained by the time she had finished.

"It's not the usual M O though, is it?" He asked, more to himself than anyone else. "I mean, when have we encountered someone... or indeed a group of people who sought to breed out purebloods..." he said, drumming his fingers on the table as he considered the options that could possibly lie before them.

"That's what really stands out to me, I have to admit, through all this. The rest is the sort of thing I've come to almost expect whenever people begin to meddle in the affairs of others, but the overarching goals almost suggest that something far more sinister may be in play here," he told them.

"What about those already married? Have there been moves to force remarriage, or anything similar?" he asked, wondering whether his own marriage, though years ago and more or less defunct now, would stand strong enough in the realms of magical law to keep the orders from reaching him.

The news on Robert, however, was rather alarming. "And you've no clue what's causing it at all? What sort of curse it could be? What goal it may be serving as we speak?" He asked, wondering what on earth could be next.