[OPEN] Reality's Consumption

London. It was a city that inevitably got under your skin. It was a city that purveyed the spirit. Ruined the spirit, in some cases. It was a city, with a people, that no amount of paperwork, trials, and tribulations could remove from his mind. He longed for the crisp northern air. He longed for the hustle and bustle of the city, the coffee shops, and the strange disassociation that the city had from every other in the British Isles. No where was quite like London and he was never quite the same when he was away from it.

He wasn’t disappointed when he arrived, either. It was to a crisp, February morning. The world was rushing around him. No one had time to notice the slightly oddly dressed man leaning idly against a lamppost. He was finely dressed, with an elaborately embroidered waistcoat enclosing a broad chest over the top of a deep purple satin shirt. A dark green suit and shiny, pointed shoes finished him off and, indeed, he stuck out like a sore thumb. But no one noticed.

Pushing away from the lamp post, Elijah Krum weaved into the crowds thrumming along the grey pavements. He inhaled the strange concoction of smells that permeated the air and felt a grin lift up the sides of his lips. Home. He was home. Mad, bad, and hellish though it might have been – especially with all of the trappings that came with being back in this part of the wizarding world – it was home. His home.

The descent into the Ministry of Magic was as vaguely nauseating as ever but he found he didn’t mind. The sound of his footsteps clinking against the marble was music to the Bulgarian’s ears and he felt his heart lighten for the first time in weeks. He exhaled, fluffing a lock of hair out of his eyes, and found his feet leading him towards the fountains that flowed with delighted abandon - a permanent exhibition to the fact that life went on.

And there he stood. Until someone behind him called, “Eli?”

Then, he turned and resumed reality.

Kate had been hurrying into the Ministry when she saw an amazing flash of color against the black marble and all the drab black robes and suits. Green and vibrant purple. It appealed to the artist in her. It was lovely to see in the Ministry's ever monochromatic palette. She was discouraged, usually, from doing anything but blending in when she went out alone. It was frustrating, but that had become her lot. If Robert ever got done with being important, she swore she was going to burn all the black in her wardrobe. The most she'd gotten away with was a cream colored coat and a dusty pink knit beret. It wasn't blending, but she wasn't getting any looks either. But, for now, she wanted to know who had the confidence to step out of the age old norm. It took a moment, but then she realized who it was.

"Eli!" she called out, wondering where the devil he'd been. She was delighted. It made her entirely forget for a moment why she was really here, the implied imperative of her being summoned as Robert's errand girl to leave the protection of the estate when he could not, to put into motion things that he could not.  Not today, anyway.

Besides that, as much as Kate loved domestic life, she liked feeling of purpose. And--she also wanted to check on some rumors that she'd heard. Rumors of an ill tempered old bat who had a love for porcelains and a penchant for talking to cats. The rumors were that the strange old woman had taken a flat and was annoying the hell out of all her neighbors. Kate was praying it wasn't true. Kate happened to like her life, and she didn't need this particular old biddie interfering.

"It's good to see you. I was hoping you were alright," Kate said. "You're looking well." She hadn't seen or heard of Eli in months, and, frankly, she missed him. She figured he'd show up sooner or later. He had always sort of flitted about, in and out of relationships and all sorts of things. He always showed back up again. It was nice to see that whatever tide had taken him out was now bringing him back home again.

“Kate!”

It was a mega-watt grin which lit up the young man’s face. Was he so young anymore? The slightly drawn look to him betrayed some of the strain that had sat upon his shoulders for, well, years now. Yet, there was still youth in his frame and in the smile even though the hair was paling slightly at his temples, threatening greys. The world had taken its toll on Elijah Krum, that much was clear, but he persisted. He continued. Like so many great institutions, he went on.

Wrapping the woman up in a bear-hug, Elijah let the familiar smell of her perfume wash over him. He wondered, not for the first time, why he had gone home. Well, he knew. The Krums had a way of drawing you back into their web in a way he knew only the Rookwoods could. Theodore had often articulated such a sinking feeling and Elijah had, up until October, managed to resist it. Then, everything had fallen apart seemingly all at once. Didn’t it always?

“You too,” he expressed honestly as he unwound his arms from about her. She did look well, that he couldn’t deny. Bright and full of life and mischief as ever. “Believe me, it’s been a mad couple of months. I’m just glad to be back – although moving everyone back has been interesting.” His lips twitched up into a smirk.

The boys had been, characteristically, unimpressed with the move. Alice had been as good as gold, although too young to really care. She found her own mischief, of course, and was eagerly beginning to vocalise just how much she enjoyed doing so. He had been getting furious letters, in the meantime, from his eldest two, asking if they had to go back to Bulgaria for Christmas. He sent them to Athena’s instead, something they were much happier about.

But now he was home. As he was stood there, the townhouse was being relieved of the dust it had gathered and new life was being breathed into it. Stelladora had been charged with taking the youngest to the park and already discussions were being fielded by his assistants as to what to do with his brothers. Because that was the main problem now, wasn’t it? His brothers. The boys he had been responsible for since birth. Now, they were entirely his responsibility. Viktor wasn’t even a ghost of authority anymore. He was it.

“Do you have time to get a drink?” Elijah asked. “I feel like this is a story that might tickle you. It certainly does me, now I think about it. Although, it’s actually quite sad,” his face shone with a bit of regret. “Happy in the end though,” he declared finally, holding out his arm to her. “Care to join me?”

"I'd love to," she said, taking his arm. "I'm Robert's errand runner today, I think, and if I take a bit longer getting home, then so much the better. I like stories--especially ones with happy endings. Oh, before I forget, Robert will be in today, but he'll be late. He's been held up for a bit. Strange as it sounds, we don't seem to have enough healers in the house to go 'round. That, and he's absurdly picky about some things. Wants them done just so, but you know that already."

There seemed to be so much to catch up on. She missed Fauve and Thiery. It seemed like years since she'd seen them. It wasn't that there was a shortage of children at Khaat's estate. Lord, no. There were Khaat's seven, and now Angus's new stepdaughter, and, when Marcus's kids visited, there were four or five more. Not to mention the kids of the bodyguards when they were there. The Walkers and the Black Hearts made another seven, and when Andrew was on holiday, there was yet one more.

She was becoming very grateful for the addition of the art studio out at the greenhouse. It was splendid, and it had been a Christmas gift from the whole bunch at the estate. It was perfect for painting, sculpting, weaving, metal working, just about anything her heart desired. The lighting was sensational, and it was blissfully quiet. She had been buying art supplies like mad, and just kept adding shelves and cabinets for it all.

The only thing that had run amuck was that a couple of pygmy puffs had somehow gotten into the greenhouse, and Robert was furious that they were mass producing in there. Kate was soon going to have to rehome them before Robert started transfiguring the poor things to deposit them in bug jars.

"Oh, say, do any of your kids need new pygmy puffs, by chance?" she asked brightly. "The rainbow ones are starting to have some really interesting patterns to their fuzz."

“They’re always in need of new creatures to home,” Elijah laughed readily, knowing that he wouldn’t be forgiven by the boys if he allowed the opportunity to have more pygmy puffs go by. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t already overrun with them himself – not to mention ottomans – but he had room for more. As yet, not every drawer in the house was full of them so he could definitely do with a few hundred or so.

The café was quiet that morning, which was nice really because he didn’t want the entirety of the Ministry to hear his dirty laundry. Of course, it was inevitable that the events of the last few months would reach the press. The Krums were still hot gossip, even if the success of Viktor had long since fallen onto the back burner and Elijah himself rarely interested the rags that had so enjoyed him in his teenage years. It was only a matter of time.

Picking a table by the tall windows that overlooked London, Elijah pulled a chair out for Kate before asking her what she fancied. Then, he whisked himself off to get just that and returned a few minutes later, his pocket jingling with change and his arms laden with a spread of scones, cake and all of the trappings that came with their drinks. He set the tray down and then took his own seat, smiling at Kate once more.

“Rather dramatically, my father left my step-mother,” Elijah broached, pouring out a cup of tea for himself after Kate had fixed her drink. “He took up with, I believe, a Russian model, though I didn’t care to find out who exactly she was, and decided to go on a permanent holiday. This happened in the summer. I didn’t hear about it until October when Irina came to me, saying that the people who had backed Gabriel’s right to govern the family evaporated.”

It was common knowledge, now, that Elijah had been disowned and cut off from any rights he might have had to control the goings on. He liked it better that way, of course, but he was not immune to the politics by the virtue of his exile. In marrying Irina and breeding her as successfully as Viktor had done, he filled the gaping hole that was Elijah with no less than five sons. Gabriel, his eldest, would take over in time. Only, when that time came, he was four years old. No older than Elijah’s own twins.

“It’s a miracle that there was no blood shed, actually,” he commented, beginning to spread jam over his scone. “They divided themselves and picked sides. My cousin, Georgio, seemed to think he was better suited to being head of the family. Half of them backed him, the other half backed Gabriel. My great-aunt Rada stepped in to steer the ship, as it were, and they coped. Then Stefan switched sides,” Elijah rolled his eyes.

Stefan was the creditor. Equally as infamous outside of the family. That branch of the family tree had been in banking for decades and had married into other banking families. Stefan had cleverly picked to marry the daughter of a prestigious Spanish banking family and had inherited everything. Care of familial funds had long since been in his hands, too, and he knew how to make life difficult. In backing Georgio, he had all but seized power.

“Of course then they came and got me. As though I could do anything,” he chuckled and slathered cream over the top of the jam. “As soon as I got back to Sofia, though, they all lost the will to fight. It’s as though my being, now, illegitimate meant nothing. They respected me as my father’s eldest son, no matter what had happened. So it was down to me. I had to deal with my cousin, bring Stefan back around, quell fears, deal with tenants … I was my father because Gabriel couldn’t be.”

Elijah shook his head and picked up his cup to take a sip of tea.

“I had thought that I had gotten used to the fact that I was responsible for those boys.”

That too was knowledge known to anyone and everyone. Viktor hadn’t been a superb father first time around. Second time around? He knew his son, rejected from the succession though he was, would pick up the pieces. Irina depended on Elijah and Elijah footed the bill for the boys. Though they would grow up to name Viktor ‘father’, Elijah had been there every step of the way, not just financially. He had been there when Gabriel had taken his first steps and uttered his first words. He had also secured his right to the family, too, when it had been open for him to take for himself.

“I just never thought my father would be as irresponsible as he has been. I’ve left Rada in charge of them all, now. The battle-axe … they won’t cross her again. But the boys are all coming back here with me. Irina will be here with them next week. And where’s her husband? Where’s here father? In the Maldives.” Elijah sighed. “There’s no getting through to him either so… even though it’s all resolved … knowing what could have happened …”

“If Georgio had been clever, he would have had them all murdered in their beds and then come for me. It was a half-hearted attempt at getting his way. But he could have done so much more damage and Viktor wasn’t there. I expect he didn’t even tell Irina. He probably just blindsided her, left her to try and control the family for Gabriel when he knew she was so woefully out of her depth…”

Elijah smiled a bit despite himself. “So that’s me, without any embellishment. I’ve, once again, been trying to patch my family together again with, as ever, no thanks at all. But at least … when he’s old enough … Georgio cannot be denied. I have them all in bonds, now. Which was a feat in itself. Tracing them all, trying to get them to promise… it was a nightmare. Completely ruined Christmas for me,” he added with a grin.

"Oh, good," she smiled. "I'll send you some--before Robert puts them in bug jars. They're getting to him a bit." She was fine with the table he chose and took her seat, loosening her coat.

"That looks lovely," she said, looking at the spread he'd brought back. "Thank you." She took a sniff of the tea, savoring the aroma. They'd always had good tea here. She took a tea cake and then swirled a bit of milk into her tea before taking a sip as he talked, catching her up. Wasn't it just like Viktor to upset the entire massive Krum/Rookwood apple cart, without thought to his children, his wife, his grandchildren? He'd been doing it for decades for the same motivation--self. She shook her head, sighing. What an enormous git, as always.

"You've been living through either a nightmare or a nasty soap opera, and I'm not sure which," she said. "I suppose it always falls on you because Viktor has never really owned up to much of anything, except for a couple of rare shining moments. Not that I recall. And, probably, because you've had the fortitude to stand up against him. You made yourself a success, no thanks to him, and it sounds like, as it turns out, their defaulting to you was the proper choice. I'm sorry it was so ugly, though. You couldn't have had any Christmas whatsoever.

"And you still have a lot of people depending on you, don't you? And you've come back here where there's no drama at all," she laughed sarcastically. "So you came back to work to get away from it all. I'd say it was sad, but since it brought you home, I refuse to be sad about it.

"You really should bring the kids and just come out to the estate sometime. I have never gotten tired of the preschool food fights at the table and Brian's letting them scribble on the walls. Right now we've got Khaat's seven, Michael's twin one year old boys, and Angus's new stepdaughter. Ten under age 5. Its lovely--most of the time. I say that cautiously, though," she laughed. She'd sort of lost count at just how many kids that would be when they got a chance to get together, but it would all work out. Surely they could juggle it.

"And, when you come, if you and I get tired of it, we can let all the other grownups and house elves take care of the kids. Then the two of us can slip out to my new art studio. Might be good for the soul.

"For Christmas, they took a part of the greenhouse at the estate and put a wonderful art studio in it. Its a lovely place to escape to. And you can't possibly have had time to do much with your art lately. Lee Shepherd's been talking about wanting someone to do some sort of a mural as some sort of a gift to someone or another. I don't have the specifics, but you should either talk to him about it or we could team up and do it together. Just think about it."

A nasty soap opera nightmare – that was what Elijah had been living through. He couldn’t help but nod when Kate said as much. But then it also didn’t do justice to the turmoil that the family had truly been in. He had felt as though, rightly, everything was falling apart around him in a way it never had done. But, ultimately, he had done his duty. What else was there for him to do, after all said and done? Still, he felt tired and put upon. Being home, drinking tea with Kate, did something about remedying that feeling.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Elijah chuckled as she waxed sarcastically about what was going on in London. He didn’t doubt that the Wizarding World had probably gone to hell and back since he’d been gone – not because he’d gone, of course, but simply because that was the way of things. It brought a fond smirk to his face as he considered it. “What has gone on, then?” He asked after another sip of tea.

Biting into his scone, Elijah listened intently as Kate talked about the children on the estate. Seven of Khaat’s children. It was mad to even think it. At one time, he had been included under that umbrella. Rob … now Rob had been like a father to him. Everything had changed of course, some of it – most of it – Eli’s fault. He knew he would need to take Kate up on that offer – not just because it would be good to mix the kids but also so that he could reintegrate himself once more. He had been too distant – even on his own terms – and he missed them.

“I bet they’d love it,” he grinned. “Maybe next weekend?” He suggested. “Once everything’s settled, perhaps? God knows, I’ll need some time to catch up on sleep.” He chuckled. “I reckon hiding in the studio might be the only thing for it, honestly.” His grin was permanent, it seemed, as he reached for another scone to crack open and start to set up, once more, with cream and jam.

“That sounds great, actually,” he replied honestly. He missed painting. He had missed it more than anything. “I will have to get in touch with him.”

"You haven't missed a whole lot here, really," Kate said. "Compared to your lot, it's been, until the last couple of days, rather routine. Been sort of a busy week, though. Um...let me see." Kate scarcely noticed now that, to cope, she took all the 'near misses' that happened so often in her family as just a normal part of life. If nothing else, Kate Lupin was resilient, often more resilient than her husband, but that wasn't out for publication. The way she saw it, in order to survive being married to a Lupin, it took being more resilient than he was, always wondering when the day would come when he didn't come home again. Hell, he thought nothing of tossing himself overboard for some higher cause but ever time he did, he took a piece of her along. She didn't dare mentally separate herself from going overboard right along with him because being without him simply wasn't an option. She simply listed the last couple of crises like items off a grocery list.

"Well, the last staunch bachelor in our house has tied the knot. Angus found a lovely girl and just got married a couple days ago. She's got a three year old daughter, so they fit right in. Angus was in a bit of a international incident involving affair, so their honeymoon will have to be postponed awhile while he recovers. International relations will be testy for a few days, I figure. So, if that hits your desk somehow, well, now you know."

She paused, taking a sip of tea, before she decided where to shift the news to next.

"Oh. And you'll be pleased to know Robert finally has had the time to remove most of that scarring that James made of Khaat's face. It took repeated procedures, but its mostly done now. She's at least able to stop hiding her face, so that's a plus.

"The downside to it is that, apparently, James Blood is really unhappy with it. He's renewed his efforts to hunt her and claim her again. He found her and Marcus the night before last and duked it out again. That never ends pretty. Blood always thought that Khaat's scars were territorial marking, claiming her as his. Now he's even angrier and more determined.

"According to Michael, some of the underground rumblings are that Fenrir's had James in control for quite some time but Fenrir has about had enough of James's madness. Makes sense, really. If the rumors are right and their packs are combined, then Fenrir runs probably one of the largest packs in England or close to it. If James starts killing again or takes over, either one, then it would be disasterous for werewolves all over. James would, no doubt, go completely out of control again, and they would look to kill humans, and we, no doubt, would try to massacre them. If its all correct, then it seems that the only way to a peaceful solution is to eliminate James. It's a sad irony, after all that's been said and done, to potentially be of the same opinion as Fenrir Greyback, but this is one time that old codger might just be right.

"But, surely the women in your household should know he's prowling about again so they can be very careful. You know James doesn't discriminate, and he doesn't just hunt at the full moon anymore either. He acts whenever he wants, even in broad daylight."

It wasn't as if Robert hadn't admonished Kate similarly. He wanted her to be careful too. Kate would be surely a powerful bargaining chip if James decided to use it. Temporarily most frustrated by Robert's wanting her to remain safe inside estate walls, Kate had baited Robert by responding rather fearlessly and colorfully about "altering his anatomy" before James could further his delusions of world domination.