Buggar

The sun was coming up, harsh and cold, making the snow a blinding white reminder that he'd buggared things up. He had believed he had it all figured out.  It was supposed to be a simple job--or at least that was what Robert had told him. Just routine, he said.  A simple little espionage job.  A little reconnaissance--of sorts.  However, there were magical failsafes that neither Robert nor Michael could not have known about. The job could not be done by one.  The security enchantments needed to be handled by a pair--working simultaneously.  Buggar, buggar, buggar.

And now, Michael was out of breath from having to make a wild dash back towards home to escape with his life.  As it was, he was exhausted, bruised, and bleeding.  A rarity.  Michael never got hurt doing a job.  Never.  Hadn't happened since he was a boy just honing his craft. This made him mentally kick himself in the arse for elementary stupidity. But, the thought was now occuring to Michael that someone was apparently onto the possibility that the Ministry might want the information they had.  More specifically, it seemed to Michael that they had anticipated that Robert would send in a lone agent.  

As near as Michael could figure, he had two broken ribs, and several bones were broken in his good "safecracking" hand. The bruises and the bleeding were coming from his shoulder--from a fall that he had taken from an upper story roof--his only means of escape.  Another mistake--he hadn't counted on having to leap out a third story window without any preparation.  Nor had he landed it with any sort of skill.  He thought perhaps the shoulder was just dislocated. He wasn't looking forward to whoever was going to have to just yank it back into place.

He had made it back to Hogsmeade in one piece, but he needed to be sure his place wasn't being watched. He slid between Honeydukes and the newsstand next door, pressing tight to the brick wall. The morning light hadn't reached here quite like it had in the street, making it easy for Michael to press back into the shadows.  He stood in the silence, breathing hard, and listening to the sound of the blood from his shoulder dripping against the cobblestone alleyway.

He couldn't risk going to Robert. Robert would surely heal him, but at this time of day, Robert was at the Ministry. It would be more than a trifle awkward to show up like this.  Oh, by the way, Minister, I buggared up the theft you wanted me to do. Mind putting my bones back in place and stopping me from leaking blood all over your rug? he considered how it would look to others.  And St. Mungos might not be any easier to explain.  Broke my ribs...doing what? Fell in the shower, perhaps?   Not likely. Michael was anything but clumsy.  

As he figured it, he was on his own.

Bean the Labrador struck out ahead, flying down the road after his mistress, glad to have the run after growing stiff curled up in front of the fire during the evening. She’d awoken as the sun had begun to splinter the sky and had donned her running shoes, zipped up her coat and picked the playlist she wanted to listen to. Then, after taking a bottle of water and picking up the dog’s lead, the pair sat out for their morning run, studiously avoiding the Black Lake which still held some unsavoury memories for the witch. Instead, today they headed for Hogsmeade.

There, the shops were beginning to open and residents in their pyjamas who weren’t fellow joggers or dog-walkers were shuffling down to the corner shop for some milk, bread, and the morning Prophet. Despite the earliness of the hour, there were a substantial number of people already about and Bean interacted with them all, Melissa Hayes jogging behind the sprinting dog, muttering her apologies. No one seemed to mind, unable to hold a grudge against the familiar blonde professor or the cumbersome, yet no less charming hound she kept.

Bean’s good behaviour turned from mischievous to downright naughty in not long at all, though, and he came off of their route, darting off onto one of the side streets. Coming to a stop, the witch pulled down her head phones and paused her music to call out to the dog. He ignored her and her irritation flared, knowing she’d have to follow him. Finding what he wanted, Bean barked for the blonde woman and she gave a growl of her own, impatiently aware of the fact that they’d wake the whole village if he started. She needed him to focus on their route.

“Bean Hayes I swear to giddy God if you don’t get here right this—” Millie stalled, utterly astounded by what she saw. Was that? “Michael?” She asked tentatively. Merlin, it was him. “You look like you got hit by the Knight Bus!”


(OOC: I'm so sorry this took so long. Forgive me, m'love!)

Michael was trying to regain some oxygen in his lungs, and he had his good hand over his broken ribs because of the pain that breathing caused.

The next thing he knew, there was a bloody animagus barking at him, trying to wake the whole village and blow what little cover the alley shadows could afford him.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Michael muttered. "The least you could do is do it in human...oh wait...You're just a dog, aren't you? You're not an animagus. Sorry, Mate. You're still a nuisance though. Shut it!"

He was about to call for Hiss to come and tie up the dog's muzzle when a woman came dashing after the canine. He was more than a bit thunderstruck when he saw it was Millie. Thank God. Someone he could trust.

"Millie," he breathed with relief. "It looks worse than it is." He knew that was just a freaking utter lie. Millie wasn't stupid. Bubbly, yes. Stupid, no. "It was a little miscalculation on my part. Either that or our mutual friend didn't get it quite right. One of us buggared this up."

It occured to him. This little blonde, all bubbly and perky, one that he knew Robert had handtrained to be able to kick arse if she needed to, one who was willing to keep herself in shape--as evidenced by being willing to try to force her four footed monster to merely jog instead of dash. The little blonde that had so dearly won Robert's heart and who he trusted so deeply, might be just who he needed.

Millie was also very good with 'weird.' Heck, she thought 'weird' was all kinds of cuddly. Not only would they love her, but she could deal swimmingly with Snidely and Otto and Falene, he was quite sure. Even now. Even with the newest litter of teensy tiny puppies. And even with the fact that Snidely was clearly having moonlight rendezvous with Michael's mailbox. Michael had no desire to know what the hell that was going to produce, and he frequently cursed Robert to his face about not telling him how to neuter a hat rack and a footstool or how to spay a mailbox.

Perhaps he didn't have to bludgeon someone into helping him with the Ministry assignment. The security system took two people. And, with him now more incapacitated than before, it would need to be someone who could be swift moving and swift thinking. Yes. She could do this. Michael had no doubt. Would she, though? That was a whole different question.

"I hate to ask, but do you mind giving me a hand to get home without being followed or making a spectacle of myself?" he asked her. He pointed to the stone cottage in the distance. He could see it from the alley. So close, and yet so far, especially with the early risers in the village.

A sly smirk pulled at the sides of the blonde woman’s lips. Brows of the same hue lifted up out of the frown they had sloped into and for the moment she sucked back the remark that perhaps Michael would have been better suited to a villa in the sunshine with a pretty wife than running around doing Robert’s dirty work. She had a feeling he wouldn’t have taken too kindly to it even if he did agree with her. Instead she called Bean to her side, the dog doing a double-take before trotting over, and then took her wand out of the holster-strap on her arm.

“A cup of tea is in order, eh?” She figured before casting a disillusionment charm on the dog. “Hold the tea, double the scotch?” She queried with a wry smile, adding the charm to them both.

Under that, she could help Michael without nosy neighbours catching wind of them. She ducked under his arm, letting him lean on her, and the pair moved back towards his cottage in one of the side-shoot roads off of Hogsmeade High Street. It began to rain lightly just as they made it past the front garden gate and as they ducked under the eaves of the house and Millie found the spare key under the gnome by the door which she was surprised he still had. The gnome glared at her well enough and she poked out her tongue, smirking a bit as Bean inspected him, and focused on opening the door.

Once inside, Millie helped Michael into a chair and then began to divest herself of her things, abandoning her hoodie, headphones and hat on another seat. She removed the spells and Bean trotted over to lick at Michael, obviously completely at ease with the man. The witch chuckled and shook her head before poking her wand behind her ear and looking at the elder wizard with a serious look in her eye. Her mind went back to Keiran and she remembered why she’d taken a recent keen interest in healing, albeit in a rudimentary way through Hogwarts library books. Still, this was as good a way as any to put what she’d learned to the test.

“Where’s your medicine cabinet and your first aid box?” She asked, adopting a firm motherly tone.

He was grateful for her help. He saw the gnome cast her a dirty look.

"Oi," Michael told the gnome. "None of that, or I'll point you full on at that mailbox for the rest of creation." The gnome glared even harder at him. The gnome hadn't always been that foul tempered, but it had gotten worse since one of the dogs, presumably Otto, had relieved itself on the gnome. Despite Michael's scrubbing, the gnone had not forgiven nor forgotten. Michael also thought it possible that since the mailbox was the only other garden ornament the gnome could see, he was possibly jealous of Snidely. Michael had seen that Snidely wasn't helping the situation by kicking the gnome when he went outside.

He was grateful that Millie had helped him home. He was also glad that the lab she had was also friendly. He didnt know how he'd get on with Otto and Faline, but they were about to find out.

As he sat down, both his dogs came out of nowhere, barking and wagging their tails--with a full litter of tiny dollhouse sized puppies on their heels--all of them overly excited, barking, and peeing on the rug. Lovely. Just lovely.

Snidely dashed into the living room and started to chase the puppies, which sent Otto and Faline into being protective parents, each one dashing at Snidely.

"Snidely!" Michael bellowed, finding it hurt to yell. The hat rack stopped and looked at Michael. "Fetch the patch kit and show Millie where the bathroom is."

The hat rack seemed to look her over.

"She's married now, you nit," Michael said. "Just show her where the medicine cabinet is." The hat rack started up the stairs to show her the way.

"Accio, Firewhiskey," Michael flicked his wand.

The gnome really was the least of the blonde witch’s problems in that moment, though she made a mental note to kick it petulantly when she left. She let the hat stand lead her to the first aid box and she propped it under her arm, sidestepping Bean who had followed, having grown used to him constantly being under her feet. She even grabbed some alcohol to rub into the wounds, willing to spare the expensive Firewhisky when she knew Michael would want to drink it. She picked up a glass anyway and followed Snidely back to Michael.

Lowering herself down onto the floor beside her chair she opened up the first aid box and tried to make sense of what was inside. She shook her head and then looked at him, fluttering a diagnostic spell over him. The purple glow settled in his shoulder, his ribcage and in his hand and she shook her head before uncorking a pain relief potion. She offered the vial to him and then set about stemming the bleeding in his shoulder with a few blood clotting spells. Once that had stopped she moved to his ribs before going back to his shoulder to clean and repair his shirt, tsking softly before looking at the ribs, unsure quite what she was meant to do here.

“Your house is still lively, Michael,” Millie murmured with a half-smile, deciding on a bone-setting potion which was also in amongst the array in there. She also found a bone-readjusting one which she was glad for as she didn’t want to do it by hand – or, well, with a wand, at least. She handed both to him. Hopefully they’d sort out his hand, too.

“Now what was this errand you were on?” She asked, getting to her feet and finding a seat across from him.

Michael was glad she could still make herself at home. He took a bit of the pain potion. He wasn't a coward but neither was he a fan of the snapping, grinding pain that came with the resetting of broken bones. He had no hero complex.

"Thank you," he said, picking up the bottle of firewhiskey again. When she said his house was still lively, he gave her a bit of a smile. "You have no idea what this place has been like lately. Its sometimes a bit much when the furniture goes into heat and Robert thinks its funny."

"At any rate," he continued, "I was asked to retrieve some very rare dark arts artifacts that the Department of Mystery records suggested had some connection to that bunch of weirdos that Gideon Pierce's father belonged to. Robert does not want any chance that Pierce can cause any more damage, and I agree with him. We don't know what Pierce might still have, but we don't want to chance that he might get his hands on these things too.

"Rumors were that there was, at least, a black palantir, and a scroll or a book of some sort of spells, and some odd business in an archaic language that referenced an amulet. We could only translate out a word or two of the document in the old runes.

"Then, we got a lead on where those things were being stored, and we wanted to get to them before Pierce knew anything about them. To the best of our knowledge, it's being kept in a third floor bedroom in an old rural estate. That's where I was last night.

"What we didn't know was that they had a very bizarre security system. A series of charms that cannot be undone by one person alone. Probably to protect anyone in the group from making off with the artifacts. The spells must be undone by two working together--which is bloody freaking lovely, since no one that I know of does what I do.

"Anyway, the estate seems to have been rather abandoned for a long time. Looks like the owner just walked away. Breakfast dishes still on the table. Laundry hanging on a line in the laundry room, that sort of oddness. Looks like it just stopped in time. Quite odd, actually.

"The magic still works very well, though. I ended up having to bail from a third story window to keep from being fried. I was doing fairly well at surviving until then. Didn't plant my best landing. That's where the broken bones came from.

"I'll have to find a cohort who isn't afraid of unsettling places, can run like the devil, and can trust a magical climbing rope. Someone with two working hands."

“A palantir?”

You could probably forgive the witch for her tunnel vision but the seer in her heard the word, her mind conjured the crystal ball and her heart told her there was knowledge to be found within it. She swallowed and sat back in the chair, knowing she’d give her high teeth to handle it, let alone see it in the flesh – or, err, crystal, that is. She clucked her tongue thoughtfully against the roof of her mouth and absorbed the information that Michael was giving her. She felt as though he already knew what would come of it.

Breaking and entering wasn’t something unfamiliar to the witch. For a summer, she and Baldric had made an art form of it. They’d learned all of the tricks and had definitely learned exactly how to run like hell. They’d made some mistakes at first – rookie ones like turning on the electricity which meant the police would turn up. Sometimes they broke into homes they thought had been empty but weren’t. Soon enough they got the way of it, knowing to light candles instead and sleeping there for no more than two nights and to cover their tracks carefully.

Breaking and entering to steal rather than squat wasn’t entirely something she was familiar with – though she’d done it a few times during idle summers. She had misspent her youth, she thought, but now it was going to come in handy. She could definitely still shimmy in through upstairs windows and the running she did with Bean made sprinting almost second nature. She rolled her lips together, wondering to herself how angry Keiran would be when he found out.

“When can you go again?” She asked all of a sudden, looking up at him. “Hold the wards and I’ll get your loot.”

He saw her interest peak when he mentioned the palantir. Crap. He'd almost forgotten how things like palantirs interested seers.

"You've got that look," he looked at her. "That same look I get from Kate when I show her some magical thingamabob that's in the seer's department.  It's that  whole 'But-I-Just-Can't-Help-Myself, Michael' stare. Its a thing with you lot, isn't it?  You know I can't let you play with it.  I've seen what dark things do to you folks. Makes you all hinky."

Palantirs and seers' stuff had no affect on Michael. It was, most often, nothing more than baubles that were fragile, and often heavy and awkward to 'liberate.'  They didn't affect Robert either, but that sort of oddness could do strange things to Kate, in particular.  Sometimes Khaat.  He didn't want Millie getting all weird on him. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. He did. It was the whatchamacallits he didn't trust.

"If you can keep up with that dog, there's no question you can run. So, you're physically in shape for it. You won't be bothered by Hiss.  So, my thought is that we can't lose any more time. I think we need to do this as soon as possible.  I know the place is deserted, but I'm more comfortable after dark.  Are you up for doing this tonight?"

That was more than pushing it, he knew. He had several broken bones that were mending and were painful. It wouldn't be easy.  He'd have to rely on her to do a lot of the tasks he was used to doing himself.  And catburglary took a delicate touch, one he was finicky about. He was just going to trust her at her word that she could handle it.

A wicked smirk lit up Millie’s face like a mega-watt bulb when Michael deduced where her interests truly laid. The smirk drifted into more of a pout when he conceded that he couldn’t let it have at it. She opened her mouth, wanting to protest, but she knew as well as he did that dark artefacts weren’t the safest things in the world to be handling at will, even for the casual diviner. She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and nodded with minute regret. He was right, of course he was.

So it seemed as though the witch was graduating from squatter to cat-burglar. It was about time, really. The timing did give her pause as she had no idea how she was going to give Keiran the slip. In the end, she supposed she’d just have to tell him she was going out with Michael for any evening. Details he probably didn’t need, though she’d tell him later once it was over and done with. The last thing she wanted was for him to be freaking out about it while she was gone. That was what she’d have to do.

“Deal,” she swore, getting to her feet.

So, then it was about getting on with her day. After making sure Michael was alright she finished off her run with Bean and returned to the castle. She was kept busy enough, marking essays in between playing with the twins and helping them build a block castle. Soon, the evening rolled around and she got dressed, promising Keiran she wouldn’t be long. Well, she didn’t think so, at least. She kissed him, the babies, and even the dog before departing, returning to Michael’s cottage.

“Ready to go?” She asked.