The Master Becomes the Grass Hopper?

Jack appeared in what seemed to be the middle of a very stoic, picturesque farm. She immediately took in a deep breath as she always did when she encountered the countryside air. It was always cleaner, clearer crisper, and somehow sweeter. As if by smelling, you could taste a bit of everything on the farm, from fruit orchards to oats to hay.

She shivered slightly in the calm and then turned to Michael. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and musings about the farm, a peacefulness on his face that she had not yet seen on the older man's usually mischievous countenance. She allowed him a minute, thinking she would interrupt him once the quiet became to unbearable.

But he came to first, directing her towards the creek in a strangely quiet voice. She nodded and turned towards it. He began to speak of all sorts of creatures and a smile crept onto her face; she had always enjoyed the challenge magical creatures presented and would not mind having a career involving them. "I think that would be wicked cool!" She laughed. "I like fierce creatures." She laughed. Pygmy puffs weren't exactly... ferocious.

Michael walked towards the creek and said, "I think one of the last times I was here, near this creek, with a fish, I was with a young girl who was maybe a couple years younger than yourself, and her uncle. We had been fishing in the creek. She had a bit of a taste for adventure too, but not as much as you have. But we all decided she needed to know how to be a fighter. And a fighter, she is now. Perhaps if we had let her have her own way a bit, she'd have been a little more like you. And it would have been nice to see."

He knelt at the creek with the bucket. "But she lost any desire she had for a lot of those things a long time ago. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying she's not a wonderful woman, because I'd be lying. She is. Usually very serious, but very lovely. But you, my young Jack, have a zest for life that one should never be forced to let go of. Don't ever let anyone take it from you--no matter what. She hangs onto life so hard sometimes she forgets to enjoy it. She could learn a thing or two from you."

He looked at the fish. "You take good care of her now, me boy," he told the male trout. "And stay close to the house." He dumped the bucket into the creek and set loose the fish who both seemed to be delighted to have more room to splash around than just in an old bucket. "Damned Rufus has me talking Irish again. It'll take a week to fully wear off, and I'll have been back by then and he'll have infected me again with it," He laughed.

"Alright. Off to the barn. Let's go look at Kate's creatures," he said. He led her back out of the woods to the barn an opened the barn doors. The hippogryff had managed to pound down the stall door and was running free in the barn. "Stand behind me a bit until he gets used to you, Jack. He's an ornery buggar," he told Jack. He looked about and saw the small refrigerator behind Jack, off in a small tack room. "Jack, in the tack room, in the fridge. There will be a few pieces of chicken for the hippogryff. Grab a couple, would you? Do you know how to befriend a hippogryff?" He knew well how to handle the cantankerous creature but he did not know what Jack's skills were. If she knew how to do so, then, by all means, he had no issue with her making friends with him.

"Percy," Michael called to him very calmly, "You know me. It's Michael. It hasn't been that long. How'd you get free of your pen, Boy?"

Jack quietly listened to his story, at first feeling like it was going to be one of those adult rambles that meant nothing to her. She had no idea who he was talking about, but she listened, giving him the benefit of the doubt because he had proved to her through all of their hijinks that he was not an uptight, irritating adult like she faced often.

His speech began to drill into her. She did not feel overly flattered because she did not know any other way to live except the way he described her as. But it was almost as if he knew what people had done to her, how she almost chose survival over fun, because she felt like she needed people in her life, she needed people who were only going to hurt her.

But you, my young Jack, have a zest for life that one should never be forced to let go of. Don't ever let anyone take it from you--no matter what. She thought for a moment. Who were the ones that had almost succeeded in taking that from her? Chase and Andrew? Or Vito? When things were good with her old best friends, they had never loved life more. When things had been good with Vito, she had usually been manipulated, or was manipulating. When things were bad with Chase and Andrew, they were asking her to do things she simply could not do, and made her feel inches from self-destruction. When things were bad with Vito, she was fighting to find the goodness in him, and she usually never felt more alive.

It was a twisted life she led.

She nodded absent-mindedly when he suggested they go to the barn and she turned on the spot to follow him, trying to force all her contemplations from her mind.She strode into the barn to see a hippogriff running about free. She followed Michael's instructions and strode over towards the refrigerator, locating the chicken and walking back to Michael.

At his question she said in a calm voice, "Pssht, you kidding me? I'm practically part hippogriff." It was a funny, silly statement, until you really considered her own nature...

She took a step towards the hippogriff, Percy, distinguishing herself from Michael. The hippogriff sniffed and cocked his head as he eyed the chicken, but his eyes slowly turned upward to narrow on Jack. Her piercing gaze met his own and she slowly sank into a low, bow; a gesture of trust she would not extend to most humans. She looked up and saw the hippogriff consider her, before bowing back.

She straightened up and confidentially approached him. He took a step forward as well, blinking. She tossed the chicken up and towards him. He stretched his neck and his beak snapped the chicken, and he quickly began to snap it up. She closed the gap and stroked his head. Once he had finished devouring the chicken she ran a finger along the curve of his beak. "Have you been kicking at your stall?" she asked him. She turned to Michael. "He's magnificent." Percy rumbled with pleasure.

"Well done," Michael smiled, pleased with her. "Percy gets bored easily. They do let him exercise as often as they can, but right now, they're..well, out of town, and that means he's been spending a lot more time in his stall. Well, actually, so have all the other animals. They have a wizard who is paid well to look after the place when they're not available, but...well, it seems my friends are going through a tough patch. Its best you not know the rest. Much as I do believe you could handle yourself, it is much too dangerous a game for you, my young friend. I would very much prefer you to graduate Hogwarts this year. Your odds of surviving to do so would go down proportionately the more I would involve you. So, perhaps, for now, pranking would be healthier for you, and would certainly be of use to me as well. Once you graduate, though, I might indeed have 'gratifying' work for you."

"However, if you'd like to take Percy for a flight, be my guest. He looks like he likes you. Perhaps if you do that, I'll let the unicorns out into the corral for awhile and feed the owls and the pygmy puffs, that sort of thing."

Michael did like Jack, and he wasn't going to bring her into perhaps lifethreatening danger by including her into the other more serious matters he had on his mind. Matters that, if they were not resolved very very quickly, could well affect the entire wizarding world. And of all people to be left in charge of it, Michael found himself in that spot, and he was the least likely candidate of all who anyone might have nominated for the task under any other circumstances. Once she graduated, however, he could teach her to make very good constructive use of her talents that would, most likely be very lucrative for her indeed. For now, until he knew her better, he would choose his words a bit carefully.

Jack listened silently to his words, understanding that there was things people could not discuss. Elliot never discussed his line of work with her... She could not discuss the full events of the summer to anyone, not even what used to be her closest friends. She had learned in Potter's Army that there was things you just did not say, things you could not.

He offered to let her ride Percy and she felt a beam come onto her face. Jack had always been one for adventure and that included riding on the back of potentially dangerous creatures, such as the Loch Ness monster, which she rode on the back of over the summer when she, Andrew, and Chase decided to take a trip to Scotland.

"Love to," she said. She turned back to Percy and he blinked, nuzzling her hand as though to find more foot. She reached up and ran her palm over his beak and he grumbled happily. She moved over to the side of his, allowing her hand to stroke his shoulder as she got closer. She hopped up, placing her foot behind his wing and throwing her other leg over. She stretched her arms around him and squeezed with her knees. He pounced into the air and Jack let out a whoop of delight...

Michael laughed. It was good that Jack was here with him today. His own fears for the life of his goddaughter was getting in the way of everything else almost. Jack's joy of living kept him from getting too morbid today. He was very grateful for her presence. He turned, went back into the barn, and put bridles on the unicorns, which was never an easy task unless they allowed it to happen, and then led them out to the corral for them to run and enjoy themselves.

After that, he fed the owls and all those bloody rainbow colored pygmy puffs. How the hell had Kate ended up with what looked like a teaming flood of little rainbow colored fuzzballs that purred and chirped at him. They were little pets for kiddies or addle brained wizards, as far as he was concerned. They annoyed him, primarily. Why Kate loved them so, he vowed to never understand.

And then he had a bright idea. He wondered if Robert's study held anything helpful for him. Well, getting in surely wasn't a problem. He walked up to the kitchen door, pointed his right index finger at the lock and twirled his finger clockwise a few times, listening to the lock's tumblers as they rolled and clicked into place. The knob turned and allowed him passage. Some locks really were so elementary for a man of Michael's talents.

He entered the kitchen and left the door wide open so Jack would know where he went. He opened the fridge, helped himself to a muggle rootbeer and set one out for Jack, and then passed through the house to the study.
The door was locked. Well, now, he hadn't expected that. And this was an enchanted lock. Hm...Knowing Robert, he would anticipate Michael. This might take some studying after all. Robert was a clever old fart. And he wanted to get the door open before Jack found out what it was Michael had truly done to make all his great wealth. At least, he didn't want her knowing it yet if he could help it.

OOC: Its fine if you catch him picking the lock on robert's study, and its okay if you don't. its up to you.

If there was two things Jack could pride herself on, it was her flying abilities and her natural instincts when it came to magical creatures. A broom was more comfortable, but this was much more exciting. She leaned low over Percy's back, his wings pounding through the air, the air buffeting her and her hair whipping behind her, her eyes squinted.

She would have thought he could read her mind, if she did not know better. She would barely twitch her head in a different direction and he would angle his wings, arching in that direction. They went into a few dives, flew down the river, corkscrewing under an old bridge, and circled the farm countless times, feet brushing the tops of trees.

Finally, when Jack's face had gone numb and her legs felt as though they were about to fall off, Percy made his way back to the farm, and he landed. He galloped a few yards and Jack hopped off his back. She clicked her tongue and walked back into the barn, scrounging more chicken from the fridge. She led Percy into the stall and while he tore the chicken up, she carefully closed and locked the door.

Jack walked back into the farm yard and saw an open door. She veered towards it and slipped inside, looking around. A conspicuous can of soda called to her and she opened it, chugging a good amount before setting it down again. She walked through the house, letting her eyes trail across pictures and furniture.

She almost fell over Michael, but she stopped before she ran into him. He seemed to be picking a lock to some door and Jack smirked, saying, "Always causing trouble, aren't you?"

Michael jumped, not accustomed to being caught. "Lord, Jack! Nearly scared a year right off me," He sighed, relaxing. "It appears that at some point he has anticipated me. I shall have to be a bit more creative here. He doesn't let anyone in this room. Except his daughter. His own wife hasn't seen parts of it. He's very secret about this bit. That's why I'm hoping he's hidden some little bits here that perhaps will help me get his daughter back alive." He examined the enchantment on the lock a bit closer. "Oh, you old fool. Right in front of you, he's hidden it," he said to himself. He fiddled with a few of them decorative bits and bobs on the brass plate behind the doorknob. Then he found it a simple matter to spin his right index finger clockwise at the lock listen to the tumblers until they made just the right noise, and clicked the deadbolt open to him. Then he opened the door.

"No, I won't teach this to you until you graduate," he flashed a look bak at her. "And yes, there is a spell to go with the finger waving. Fingerwaving alone isn't going to do a bloody thing without the spell to go with it, I"m afraid. " He went inside and stood amazed at what he saw. Four bloody floors of a study! He knew Robert had a study, but four bloody floors??? Thousands and thounsands of books in solid oak bookcases stared back at him. A massive oak desk, oak and leather chairs, tables, stained glass lamps made by his wife....and solid oak spiral staircases leading two more floors up beyond this, and one floor downward.

"Damn, Robert," he said softly, impressed. "You've been holding out on me. You do know I have to explore this now, don't you?" He was speaking as if Robert were here, but it was more reflective than anything else. He peered over the stairs to the floor below. "Potions lab," he announced. "It won't be down there, I don't think." He looked up and saw nothing but more and more and more books on the floors above. "Hm...Probably not there either. I think I need to look here first. Oh...by the way...I'm looking for a map. Probably rolled up like a scroll. Won't be old and aged. Should be new, crisp white paper if its worth a damn to me for what I need. And he's one clever fellow. You'll have to use every ounce of your cunning if you're to help me find it. A woman's life is at stake unless I find this bloody map. And believe me, he'd be giving it to me if he could. He really is my friend, although it doesn't look like it at the moment. Go anywhere you like but downstairs. I don't want you to go there alone. That could be extremely dangerous. I've seen his potions labs before."

Jack had a smile on her face when he began, slightly pleased to see that her sneakiness had not gone to waste, but the smile soon faded. There was something more going on here, something more serious than her usual attitude provided her for. When it came to serious situations where a joke or a dungbomb could not clear things up right away, she found she took longer to adapt.

The door opened and she followed Michael in, nodding at his words about the finger-waving types of spells, wanting to comment but finding she could not. She was struck silent by the enormousness of the room she had just entered- it seemed to be more like a whole new house, let alone a singular "room." It was four floors packed full of bookshelves.

Again, while Michael spoke, she found no room for jokes or her usual snide comments. He had said something about saving someone's daughter. Someone's life was danger. She began to wonder... was this man an Order or Death Eater sympathizer. Needless to say, she did not want anyone to die, so she nodded. She would even risk saving a Death Eater's life to make sure someone innocent did not die.

He asked her to aid him and she nodded, deciding to check out the floor above her, crawling up the staircase to the third floor. She immediately set to work and for a solid ten minutes or so, she found nothing. She scoured under everything, across desktops, she tried Accio, she felt the walls for hidden passageways. All efforts yielded nothing.

She turned and began reading the titles of books on a nearby shelf. Most had to do with potions. Well, everything on this particular shelf did anyway. Her eyes lofted across them- Potions Potential, Potions of the Third Century, The Uses of Hellebore, Unicorn Blood: Justified?, 1001 Obscure Remedies, World Atlas, Contemporary Potion Makers-

Jack stopped. World Atlas?! She moved to the bookshelf, finding that the large book was largely out of place amidst the potion-themed books. She strode forward and ran a finger over the spine before pulling it off the shelf. Her shoulders sagged with its weight and she balanced it one her knee, flipping it open. She rifled through the ages but found nothing. She moved to put it away again...

Suddenly something caught her eye. Perhaps it was the lighting, but the back of the shelf that was behind where the Atlas usually sat seemed lighter than the rest of the shelf. She set the Atlas on a nearby table and began pulling books off the shelf, piling them under a protesting arm. She set them on the table.

Her musings had been justified. In the back of the shelf was a larger rectangular portion that was lighter. She peered closer and her fingers scrabbled to the edge. She gently lifted the portion out of the shelf and set it on the table. She was presented with a squat little door. She prodded it with her wand, going through a list of unlocking spells, though none of them worked. She called, "Michael, you may want to come and see this. I've found... something."

Michael fairly raced upstairs. He saw she'd rooted out a stack of books. Oh, surely he hadn't hidden the map in the old hollowed out book trick, had he? He resisted the urge to sigh with annoyance and instead decided nnot to prejudge it. He went over to the spot where she stood and looked at what he had found.

"Oh! Very excellently done, my dear! You are indeed a natural. You have great promise. You see, these little doors here only open by a password. Not very imaginative, but there it is. Now, let me see, what would he use for a password?" He thought for a long moment and then he laughed out loud. "Alright, Robert Lupin, let's see how well I know you!"

He tapped his wand on the door and said very deliberately and clearly, " Butterscotch Frogs!" The little door sprang open at once. Michael roared in laughter, triumphant. "There's a story to that," he laughed. "When we were in Hogwarts, we wanted to see if we could make the Honeydukes chocolate frogs into pocket pets that would not melt. Now, mind you we were only third years at the time. So, we thought we had the formula all figured out. We'd worked on it for weeks in Potions Class. The time came for us to try our potion on a batch of chocolate frogs we'd bought, and we gathered in the Gryffindor common room in the wee hours of the morning to pour the potion on the frogs. But when the great moment of excitement came, it seemed the joke was on us.

"Professor Dumbledore had figured out what we were going to do and had substituted our potion for one of his own and all his did was to turn our chocolate frogs into white chocolate frogs that were butterscotch flavored. We laughed about that for years. We never did find the right combination for that potion. Robert eventually just couldn't do it because it made him laugh too hard to try to brew it again."

He reached into the little hiding space and drew out a piece of paper the size of a large postage stamp. "Ah. He shrank it. We shrink things when we pack a bag, or when we need more space, or...well, when we're hiding things. It goes like this to restore it." He taught her the simple spell for restoration of a shruken object. Then he showed her, by using the paper again, how to shrink the paper, and then again, he restored it.

"So," he said, so delighting in Jack that he always took the time to teach a lesson when he found he could do so. "Let us see where it is he is sending me." He picked up the map and found it was the floor plan of a building. He frowned deeply. He was hoping beyond all hope that, first, the wizarding world's Chief Warlock was still alive, and second, that Jack could not figure out from the rather ordinary looking floor plan of an office building, that the plans he held in his hands were to none other than Whitehall, the most secure building in the British muggle governmental system. This affair had suddenly become very dark indeed.