I Should Know You

Khaat had come, with Marcus, into Diagon Alley for what she thought was a charitable cause. Michael Tremaine's two year old twins both had some sort of virus, and Michael was trapped at home with restless footstools, cranky toddlers, and much too little firewhiskey left in stock. It sounded to her like the virus was some sort of odd wizarding virus, which could flare up for wizards like colds and flu for muggles. It seemed to be something that wizards sometimes attributed to a standard flu, mostly because of muggle mythology, but given proper wizard medicine, it was much more easily treated. Michael, of course, had presume it was an old fashioned muggle cold that had struck his boys.

So, she'd come to Diagon Alley for new story books and more pajamas for the boys, fresh socks for the dogs so they wouldn't go hungry, more firewhiskey for Michael so he didn't lose what sanity he had left, and, hopefully, a new rare book or two for him to cut the frustration.

She had passed Knockturn and she had picked up the foul odor that was somewhere between wet dog and someone with a serious "allergy to soap." She didn't know too many people that mustered up to that description, and she'd drawn her wand and had rather unpredictably tried to ditch Marcus by spinning suddenly into Knockturn.

Yeah, Marcus wasn't that easy to lose or to fool. Her hunch had been right. It was James. There was his hulking, stinking, overbearing, egotistical self, and he'd obviously crawled out from under whatever rock he'd been hiding under. He was wearing not-so stylish worn out jeans, something that was supposed to be shoes, and a genuine artificial-leather muggle leather jacket in a couple sizes too small, the seams working hard to hold in his muscled form. Typical of a lot of werewolves to not spend much on clothes because clothes were always so disposable to a werewolf. He seemed to be stalking some petite young blonde. It infuriated her. He never quit, did he? Always hunting, and almost always blondes. It would have been so easy. There was a powerful warrant out by the Ministry to stop Blood, however anyone could make it happen--dead, alive, ashpile, whatever worked.

She raised her wand but some not-so-sober wizard who looked like he was in Knockturn much too often, stumbled between James and her perfectly aligned shot.--damnit. The best she could get to try to protect the little unsuspecting blonde woman was to perhaps try to wing James. Marcus reached to grab her arm to stop her shot, and she fired, with every intent of striking him in the head.

The shot fired low--way too low, and instead it set the mystery-plastic-muggle jacket on fire. The flames leaped much higher into the air than she expected. Wizards and witches around him screeched and fled.

"How about that?" she looked at Marcus. "Muggle cows burn pretty well."

"Go. Go, we've got to go," he sighed, irritated with her, "before sees you. Muggle cows." He rolled his eyes.

"Wait, where's the girl?"

"Slipped into the bar down there, I think," he said. "Come on. We need to go. Move. We need to get out of sight."
He took her by the arm and hustled her out of Knockturn and into one of the busiest places he could think of, looking for a good place to get lost in--The Leaky Cauldron.

"Well! Mrs Quinn," the bartender smiled, pleased to see her. "Long time no see. What can I get you? Something to warm up with perhaps?"

"Have you some top shelf stuff today?" she asked.

"Always," he smiled, pulling a fresh bottle of firewhiskey off the top shelf. She motioned to him to hand her the bottle. He handed her the bottle and four glasses, knowing she'd more than likely have someone joining her and Marcus.

"On my tab, please," Marcus said, picking up the stack of glasses while she took the bottle. The bartender nodded. "Over there," Marcus pointed to a table in the corner by the fireplace where he could keep an eye on whatever was going on out the window. They made their way there and took a seat, and Marcus poured them each a glass of firewhiskey. "Do tell me," he said quietly. "Do you have a death wish I don't know about, or do you plan on randomly risking my ass and yours just to see if I can keep up with your weird impulses?"

"Have a drink, Marcus. You're getting a bit surly."

"Am I? I hadn't noticed," he said.

If you were to gather the three people who knew Matt the best together in a room and asked them, 'what do you think is simultaneously Matt's best and worst characteristic?' he figured they'd all respond with his taste for the dramatics. Normally Matt was very blunt and often got to the point of business quick; but Matt hadn't seen several people for years. He had this fantastic opportunity where most of his friends and allies presumed him to be dead. Now of course it would be sensible to perhaps approach his friends as individuals or send letters but that was definitely out of question at the point that Matt was in now. Since the moment he had woken up the morning after he arrived back in London Matt had been focused on Khaat Lupin. He was excited to see what was one of his oldest friends; but he was also excited that he had the opportunity to freak her out a little bit.

Stalking, is a very negative word, so instead of using the word stalking we're going to use the word 'tailing'. Tailing is a word that is much more suited to what Matt was actually doing. He scoped out some of her local areas yet hadn't quite gathered where she was, personality wise, after three years. After all, so much had happened to Jack and therefore he assumed just as much had happened to Khaat. To a degree he was almost thankful he hadn't been in London over the past few years; the world had seemingly gone to hell and back. After about two or three days, however, Matt concluded that the best place to run into Khaat was going to be at the Leaky Cauldron. The issue was, knowing her, she would not be alone and that could make things much more awkward than they really needed to be. But after years of the same dull social interaction with the same dull people he was up for meeting new people.

So on this fine winter day in Diagon Alley Matt had found himself sitting alone at a table in the corner, nursing a glass of firewhiskey. He told himself yesterday that if she hadn't shown up by late afternoon he was just going to leave. He hadn't decided if he was planning on trying again, he figured they'd cross paths eventually. He was mentally planning what his plan would be if she didn't show up, when she did. As though it was on cue, there was Khaat Lupin sitting down at at table. As predicted there were some men with her. He didn't recognize either of them, but either way this was going to be interesting.

Matt downed his glass of firewhiskey in on gulp and put on his most confident and cheery smile. He waltzed over to the table that Khaat had been sitting in, took the chair across from her and spun it around. In one movement he sat down in front of her smiling Matt's typical cheery smile.

"Hey Khaat!"

Of all the people she might have run into here today, Matt hadn't been in the top 5 in her thinking. She had the sort of friendship with him that seemed like it always couple pick up where it left off, and yet, he had probably the finest ability to surprise her of anyone she knew.

"Oh my goodness," she said, "I can't believe it. It's about time you showed up again. Marcus, this is a very good friend--Matt Lestrange. Matt, this is my father's version of security, Marcus Belby, my bodyguard."

Well, that was the simple version of who Marcus had become since his own Hogwarts days. That explanation, if it came up, deserved a larger drink perhaps. Marcus Belby's dossier was complicated. His skills prior to coming to her had included bodyguarding the Minister of Magic for Bulgaria, various assignments in espionage, specializations in personal protections, weaponry and all sorts of various other lethal hobbies. He had also specialized in not getting involved, not making friendships--until now. Now he found himself back in England, and under the personal employ of Robert Lupin, with one order and only one--protecting his daughter. With that had come an unexpected close and platonic friendship with her. He did disagree with two things about her--her addiction to high heels, and her impulsivity, and she didn't appear to be ready to quell either of those any time soon.

"Pleased to meet you," Marcus said to Lestrange. "Drink?" He motioned to the bottle of firewhiskey. "Khaat's buying."

"You showed up just in the nick of time," Khaat said to Matt. "You saved me from being lectured about the hazards of deliberately setting muggle cows on fire."

"Pleather," Marcus looked at Matt, explaining. "Mass murdering werewolves wearing flammable pleather jackets."

"He completely deserved that and more," she told Matt, defending herself. "I was actually aiming for his head. Enough about that. Where have you been, Matt?"

As if there hadn't been a three year gap between their last meeting Khaat was chatty as ever. He always admired that about her as a person, it's why he kept her around. Regardless of situation or person Khaat knew how to handle a situation as well and so far he had never felt more welcome.

"I'd love one." he said to the man called Marcus. He wondered why Khaat would need a bodyguard. Matt had been in a fair amount of fights at the side of Khaat and he knew she could handle her own. In fact he wouldn't put it past her to be able to take him on in a fight and then win. Then again, it had been a while since Matt really had a nice challenge. He was also interested in the use of the word 'cow' that followed muggle. Regardless he wanted to make a solid first impression on someone he was sure he would be seeing as much as he saw Khaat.

"Regardless of the circumstance I think it's always valid to set pleather on fire." he said to the pair of them. "Nobody in their right mind should ever wear the ghastly material"

Already this had become one of the most interesting conversations in years. Much of what he enjoyed at Khaat is she was never truly as serious as she ought to be. Of course there were moments when Matt was downright frightened of her but he was glad he could enjoy the company of his old friend as easily as he had so far. And this Marcus fellow seemed well enough; if Khaat kept him around and treated him as well as it seemed she did then he must be a good egg.

"Travelling mostly." he answered Khaat's question and turned to look at her. "Well, I say travelling it's more like exploring. I've spent some time in Russia, Scotland, oh, and America!"

Marcus poured Matt a glass of the vintage firewhiskey she'd bought. When it came to firewhiskey, she either knew her stuff or she knew what her father drank. And even though he'd been with her for quite awhile, she didn't drink enough for him to know whether she had the discerning palate or whether it was Robert's tastes that she stocked at the compound. Either way, it was good with him. He slid the glass to Matt and then refilled both hers and his own.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Marcus laughed when Matt said that setting pleather on fire was always worthwhile.

She listened to Matt talk about where he'd been travelling to. "You always were much more well travelled than I," she smiled. "And, if I know you, it wasn't without an adventure or two along the way. You did miss a fair few here, you know. We could have used you." She looked at Marcus. "In a fight, you'd want him on your side rather than be against him."

"Well met, then," Marcus said to Matt. "She's gotten rather to like not backing away from a skirmish. And apparently has no fear of starting them either."

"Well, you weren't shooting at him," She countered.

"Because he wasn't coming for us. He didn't even know we were there until you set him on fire," Marcus said.

"The man has a death warrant. What was I out?" she asked. He was sorely tempted to respond, but instead he shook his head, sighing.

"Your bottle might not be deep enough," he said, swilling down his firewhiskey. Friend that she was, she aggravated the daylights out of him at times, and this was one of them. He looked at Matt. "Is this death wish of hers a new thing? If so, perhaps I should go with you the next time you travel."

"Never mind him," Khaat said. "What are you looking to get into now that you're back? Work? Adventure? Something else?"

Matt had always enjoyed watching people interact; especially when they were dealing with Khaat. She had this uncanny way to get under people's skin and she absolutely loved it. Fortunately for him, Matt had grown used to Khaat's dealings. She'd already put him through all of her trials, nonetheless Marcus had his work cut out for him. He was just extremely glad nothing had changed with Khaat while he was gone.

"Oh I'd enjoy the company next time!" he said as he smiled at Marcus and took a swig of his firewhisky. That was a taste he missed; the gruff barebones burn of the finest wizarding whisky in the world. It had nothing on anything anywhere else in the world. "It wouldn't have been London if I hadn't missed out on a few adventures. But I'll tell you I definitely made up for it while I was gone. I met someone on Russia who had a proper trained dragon."

He hadn't quite put much thought into what to do now that he was back home. He had entertained the idea of seeing how the Order was doing but decided against going right into that. He was having some troubles with distinguishing friend and foe ever since he left and he wasn't entirely sold on the Order. He would need to get a job, of course, maybe at the Ministry; relive his old Unspeakable days. Maybe he would buy himself a car and turn to more muggle methods of surviving; take a road trip across London the old fashioned way.

"The death wish has pretty much always been there. But as far as what now I have no clue. I'm thinking about maybe taking a bit of a break from the adventure for a while. Of course now that I say that's what I want I won't get it."

"You? Take a break from adventure?" Khaat said, not believing him. "Forgive me, but I don't see that as very likely. Besides, adventure just seems to find you, whether you're looking or not."

"Dragons?" Marcus asked. "You mean someone finally made some headway in training them? They could be a worthwhile asset if he's actually done it. Did you get a chance to ride the dragon? Now, that sounds like more than a small bit of fun."

"You really should get back in touch with my father, Matt," Khaat said, "speaking of a small bit of fun. You remember that boggart Michael has? Don't ask me how but my father has pilfered it from him. I think he means to set it back on him. You might enjoy going along."

"Couldn't happen to a more appropriate fellow than Tremaine. Frankly, though, I think they are intending to see who can out-prank the other," Marcus said.

"Yes, well, Michael's focus isn't quite what it should be now that he has 2 year old twin boys to raise," Khaat said. "Believe it or not, Matt, Michael is turning out to be a half decent father now that he's past the diaper stage with them."

"And they're already learning to pickpocket," Marcus said.