ooc: you might want to read kitty's article to catch up so that this post makes sense.
https://www.pottersarmy.net/t18361-khaat-lupin-speaks-out-exclusive-interviewMichael was out of town, on something or another at Robert's request. Michael was concerned for his dogs, and he'd asked Khaat if she'd mind terribly just stopping by to take care of them. There were few people that understood footstools properly. Besides that, Khaat was becoming a hermit in her own estate since James had disfigured her.
She had reluctantly agreed. Her bodyguard, Marcus, had talked to her that it was merely porting to Michael's, which had always been a safe place for her, and porting back. He had promised he would not leave her, that no one need see her. It would be an easy in, easy out. The danger from James would be minimal. And so they had gone, right after a fresh morning rain that left everything smelling clean and new. She liked the rain, really.
She had worn a long black cloak with a full hood that was pulled up to try to hide her he scars on the left side of her face and neck and to hide her left arm that was still completely paralyzed. Marcus Belby was, as always, glued to her. She arrived at Michael's and let the dogs out in the front yard to run. She was not surprised when they were followed by the kleptomaniac hat rack, with the sofa and the coffee table galloping out behind them. Michael had been steadily expanding the animation charms on the house until the place almost ran itself.
"Damned dogs ate all the socks," Marcus called back to her, looking in the house at the sock basket.
"Well, of course they did," she said, not surprised. "There are some in my cloak pocket. Can you get them?" He reached into her cloak to the inside left pocket and drew out a shrunken bag of socks. He resized them, and the dogs went nuts, running and jumping and barking.
"Look at his flower beds," she sighed. "Overgrown with weeds."
"Try the new charm he said he made."
"Weeds!" she commanded in a strong voice. At her command the flowerbeds appeared to just literally spit out the weeds. "Well, I'll be damned. That ridiculous spell actually works," she frowned.
"Yeah, well, one of the footstools just peed on my shoe, I think," Marcus frowned. "Aren't they housebroken?"
"Yes. They're just glad to see us," she said.
"I don't want to see what the sofa will do to my shoes, then," he sighed.