Your Mision Is...

Sparks was not Lorcan's typical place to be in the mornings. He generally didn't embrace bright morning sunshine. It didn't agree with him. Still, he was learning that periodically positioning himself to do a little people watching was a good thing. He was learning to come here sporadically, pick a seat by the window and just drink a little tea, pretend to browse the newspaper, and, largely, watch the goings on in Diagon Alley. It was immensely useful.

He took a sip of the Earl Grey he'd ordered, and as he did, he saw an old familiar face as she bustled through the crowded street. It made him sit up straighter and put his teacup back on the table. What the hell had brought her out from under her rock, he wondered. Pushing towards 60, he knew a lot of the faces of the older witches and wizards, even if he didn't know them personally. This woman, though, peaked his interest.

On the outside, she looked harmless enough. A stocky, short little woman, looking rather grandmotherly, her white hair cropped into a pixie cut. She was conservatively dressed in an ordinary robe and carrying a shopping basket. He watched her go into one shop, come out and go into the next. It aroused his curiosity. What the hell was she doing back here? It certainly couldn't be anything good.

He checked his watch. It was a few minutes early from when he expected Du Hunt to join him here. She'd been gone a long time, but judging by what he had just seen, he had a mission for her, if she were at all interested.

Katrina-Carlotta was currently in disguise. It wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence, but her current disguise was a little older than the witch usually went for. It was different, harder.The woman had to control her movements very carefully; be less smooth, remind herself not to glide while walking as she normally did. The witch had thought someone had been following her not ten minutes ago, but she was almost positive she'd lost them. Just to be sure, she weaved in and out of a few stores. Stumbling down an alley to fiddle with her purse, for if someone had the intention of tracking or cornering her they'd surely follow, Katrina-Carlotta smiled slightly to herself when the alley remained deserted.

Doubling back to where she'd spotted Lorcan a few minutes before, the witch maintained her glamour, sure that the man would figure out who she was quickly enough, if he hadn't already. It had been quite some time since the two had spoken. Katrina-Carlotta had received a concerning message from someone whom she wouldn't quite call a friend, but had been tempted to a few times. She had worked with him in the past, and respected the wizard for much the same reasons he respected her. The witch, left that night to assist, figuring she wouldn't be gone fore more than two weeks. Katrina-Carlotta had severely underestimated the situation.

The magical community of Cambodia had been on the brink of a civil war. Horrifically long and complicated story, one dead not-friend, and entire months later, the witch was finally back in England. She was already missing the Cambodian weather.

"It is so good to see you, dear," Katrina-Carlotta said, striding up to Lorcan, changing her accent in the same way she had her gait. Taking a seat and discretely flicking her wand under the table, muffling their conversation from the ears of others, the witch added, "it has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Hello, my dear," he said with a just a hint of amusement in his smile. "A well played look for you, although I must say, I still like the original better. It's been much too long. May I order something for you? The Earl Grey really is, surprisingly, excellent."

He glanced back out the window. The old woman was still there. Good.  He wanted Du Hunt to see her and get a good look at her. Actually, Lorcan had a lot of thoughts concerning Du Hunt. He wanted her to take this assignment, if she were interested. And, he certainly wanted her to take up her old post in the Death Eaters, but that would come. First things first.

"I asked you here because I need someone I can trust.  Look out the window. See that old grandma over there? The little stocky one just coming out of that shop across the street? She interests me. I thought she was dead, actually, but since she's alive and back out in the open, I need to know what she's up to. If you're interested in the job, I'll pay you your standard rate and double the hazard pay. You might need it. She's not what she seems."

"Why thank you," the witch replied with a smile, "and Earl Grey sounds quite pleasant right now. It has been quite some time since I've had good English tea."

"Who is she?" Katrina-Carlotta asked, angling her chair slightly so that she could look over at the woman as discreetly as possible. Her eyes flickered quickly from one feature of the woman to another, taking in as much as she possibly could as swiftly as she was capable. "How did she die, and did you ever see the body?" she asked, wanting to know as much as possible before she agreed to anything.

"That is quite the sum," Katrina-Carlotta stated, eyes moving to make contact with Lorcan's, before sliding back to the woman. Normally she had to kill someone to make that kind of money. "Not what she seems? I'm sure, if you feel the need to bring this to me. But then again," the witch paused to gesture at her disguised appearance, "neither am I."

Leaning back in her chair, the woman slid her wand into its holster. Her interest was piqued. Anyone who could concern Lorcan this much was worthy of, at the very least, her attention.

He ordered Earl Grey for Du Hunt and then glanced once more at the harmless looking old granny who appeared to be looking at some books in the window of Flourish and Blotts before going inside.

"Apparently, that old dinosaur didn't die. I was mistaken. She's got to be in her 70's now or thereabouts," Lorcan said. "However, when one has money and influence, they're often tossed together at social situations with people they'd otherwise not meet.

"That, my dear, is one Gwen Fawcett. Looks harmless, doesn't she? Not quite so. I met her, oh, maybe 5 or 6 years ago at some charitable ball I had no real interest in going to, and she was there.  She's spent her years working in the Ministry as part of the ambassadorial attache.  I doubt she's been on English soil in the last decade not even enough times for me to count on one hand.

"Here's the interesting thing. She is the sister in law for our Minister of Magic, much as she'd not admit it. She's not proud of it. She doesn't claim it for whatever reason. What I do remember from that party years ago is that Fawcett was doing her best to look quite poised and proper and to do whatever she could to erase or bury any familial connection to the Lupins or even that she knew them at all. She didn't even like England much anymore, she said. Was far more interested in living out of the country. Even then, she was a bitter, angry old crone."  

He paused for a moment as the server delivered Du Hunt's Earl Grey to her and was about to lay the tab on the table when Lorcan took it from the server.  "If you would be so kind as to add this to my tab, I'd appreciate it," he told her with a smile.  The young little server blushed a brilliant strawberry red and seemed to gush as she looked into his good looks and dark eyes.  Lorcan did understand that his half vampire side made it infinitely easier to get a woman whenever he wanted one--whether he was married or not. It was part of the seductive abilities of a vampire. Literally, it came with his DNA.  He flashed a smile at her, and she nodded like a schoolgirl and took the tab back and left the table.  Had Du Hunt been Zada, she'd look appropriately annoyed at him and follow with some sort of eye rolling, ending with, "Must you do that? They don't know you're just playing with them. For Merlin's sake at least flirt with someone who's a challenge to you." Zada wasn't here to nag, and Lorcan had been momentarily amused with his little 30 second game.

"However," he easily picked up the conversation again with Du Hunt without dropping a beat. "I haven't been around dark magic not to know dark intent and dark energies when I see them. Mark my words. That old woman should not ever be trusted any farther than one can spit her. I've been watching her, and she's been shopping today like a woman on a mission. She's got a mental list apparently, and she's trying to get the things on her list in a specific order. I've seen her go in and out of that book store no less than three times this morning.

"Now, why wouldn't someone in an ambassador's office be organized enough to make a written list. Should be just common sense--unless she didn't want any possibility of her accidently misplacing the list and having anyone else know what was on it? Rather like a chef without his mise en place, actually."  He watched Fawcett come out again, and he spotted something.

"There," he said, even more keenly observant. He pointed to the basket the old woman carried "Right there. The book with the red cover in her basket--the one with the round gold seal on the cover. That's a dark arts spell book, one with lesser used, more archaic spells, not a book easy to come by. I somehow inherited a copy in the manor library from Lucius Malfoy, but I doubt he ever really used such complicated magic."

"I think," he said to Du Hunt, "if someone is tinkering with the dark arts on any sort of deep level, we really ought to know about it. Whatever she's doing, it isn't good, it certainly isn't any charitable work, and nor is it likely to be good for England.  I think we ought to know what the devil she's up to, don't you?"

Katrina-Carlotta let Lorcan speak, maintaining silence in order to allow the man to say all he wished. The witch knew that she hated it when she was interrupted and lost her train of thought. Not that she thought Lorcan would be prone to be forgetting anything about this woman. Not with the look he was currently sported.

"Thanks," she said, raising her cup of tea and taking a sip. The witch had patiently watched him play with the server. Katrina-Carlotta rather doubted that the actions had been for anything but amusement on Lorcan's behalf, as she couldn't imagine that Zada would be overly pleased if it was anything but.

Katrina-Carlotta had never seen the appeal of that kind of behavior, playing little seduction games that went nowhere. So many of the people she spent time around participated in them. The witch took a moment to ponder if the correlation was due to powerful people enjoying such displays, or of it was that dark wizards took pleasure from playing with people in such a way. Frankly, she wasn't sure she cared.

"She looks quite good for someone in her seventies," the woman noted idly, examining the witch. "Her connection to our Minister is concerning, especially if she's as neck deep in dark magic as you think she is. And if she hates England so much, she must have quite the motivation for being here." The same could have been said for Katrina-Carlotta, around three years ago. Merlin knows her relocation to this country hadn't been for anything good.

"I couldn't agree more," the dark witch admitted, leaning back in her chair, "we need to know what she's up to. And why." Katrina-Carlotta took a sip of her tea. Katrina-Carlotta wasn't even sure if it was in her to sit idly by as a dark witch she knew nothing about meddled around with extremely powerful dark magic in her stomping grounds.

"Especially if she's dabbling in archaic magic," she added a moment later. Old spells were different than their modern counterparts. Often more powerful, dangerous, and far-reaching. Katrina-Carlotta had come across quite a few, in her day. Mindlessly stroking a scar on her upper thigh, the woman felt her brows furrow slightly. "Have you got any clue as to her intentions? Ideas, theories?"

"Haven't got the foggiest," he said, "but, I do remember fairly well what I've read in the press about the Lupins. Katherine was a Gryffindor, which is apparently how she met Robert, since they were in the same house. Not so with Gwen. At that party I met her at, she was chatting up some chums, fellow housemates--and they were Hufflepuffs.

"Now--when have you ever known of a Hufflepuff to go sideways enough to delve into that sort of dark arts? I've always found them to not be of the right stuff for that.

"The only skeleton in Fawcett's closet that I am aware of is that she's dreadfully appauled at being related, even just by marriage, to a Lupin. And I'm afraid that might not be much help at all to you.

"Fawcett is her maiden name, incidently. She was married, but for whatever reason, she's single now and has reverted back to her maiden name. Clearly you'll have to do some digging.

"You're welcome, of course, to take a gander at my copy of the book she just bought, if it might help you. I surely don't use old magic on a regular basis, not out of that book anyway. It seems to be fiddling about more with harnessing the elements--dangerous stuff, that. Not for inexperienced hands. I try to watch where some of poor old Lucius's books wander off to. He had a few like that in the things he left behind."