TO HURT IS TO BREATHE

Normally he didn’t mind working with Oblivators. They were competent, discrete, and didn’t mind the lack of small talk. Ever since Maura Mulciber had gotten transferred to Germany and Emm had started moping about like, well him, things had shifted. If the Department couldn’t recognize good talent because it had blonde hair and bubbly attitude than perhaps some things needed re-evaluating. 

Kingsley gave Lucian a calculating look, wondering how he matched up to Maura, before looking up at the sky. “Where was he sighted? We can trace his flight pattern and find the families from there.”

Lucian knitted his eyebrows together. 

        He could tell by the way Kingsley look at him that there was some level of disapproval. Lucian grew up his own life with that look. He was no stranger to it now. He pulled his jacket closer as the harsh wind hit the curve of his cheek. “He was sighted on the edge of town. Again, it’s a small area to take care of.” He muttered, although the longer that they were in each other’s company the longer the excursion seemed to feel. He didn’t want to involve himself in the other’s thoughts, nor the baggage they seemed to carry. He was here to do a job and merlin was he going to do it. 

       Lucian pulled out a map of the area, something he had crafted before they left. There was a glowing green line of where the broom had been sighted, along with specific households and people they needed to take care of. “Take a look for yourself.”

The news about Nigel had hit. 

       At least Lucian assumed that was the catalyst for seeing Miss Clearwater. It seemed to put some of his party on edge, the way the article presented itself. It seemed very much like separate from innocent or guilty he had been handed to them in some way. Lucian couldn’t quite think of anyone who would do such a thing. However, he did understand why people might want to appeal to his better nature in this time. He worked for the Ministry, he had familial ties on the other side of the war. He was shrouded in shades of grey that he couldn’t shed. They were apart of him whether he wanted it to be or not. 

       “Can I get you something to drink Miss Clearwater?” He asked, looking over to her. It was not often that Lucian has guest in his home, mostly because he didn’t want the company. However, this felt like an interaction that would benefit from the lack of speculating eyes. “I’ve got all the usual things. And if not I can send a house elf out to grab anything I don’t have,”

Normally Gilderoy loved when people stared at him in public. After all, there was nothing like open and willing attention to keep him thriving. Right now, with a hat firmly in place and his most boring normal person clothing on, he hated it. No one should see him like this. He looked hideous. No one should look. Most people’s eyes moved right over him. Gilderoy Lockhart would never wear anything plain after all, so they must’ve gotten it wrong. 

Except for one person whose chuckle had cold shivers tickling their way down his spine. The sound made him want to curl into a tight ball. It made him want to cry.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, voice sharp and brittle all at once.

Lucian looked up. 

       He had done nothing but stared at the man, but he was already so unnerved. It made him want to laugh. Normally people were more difficult to break than it had been with Gilderoy. The man was so vain that all he needed was a little scratch, or in this case a haircut, and the poor man crumbled to pieces. It was a stunning feat in his mind. Lucian’s expression remained innocent though, eyebrows drawn in confusion, “I just thought you were the author of this article.” Lucian said lightly, showing the man an article he had written. He shrugged his shoulder, lips quirking downward. 

       “Sorry if I was bothering you, but I wasn’t quite sure.” He continued, trying to cut the wind out of Gil’s hostiles sails. He would imagine it would be difficult to keep up anger toward someone who recognized you. “I must have been mistaken then - my apologies.” 

It was time for him to prove himself to Voldemort, the whole purpose of him traveling the Atlantic ocean to be here. He had wanted to learn more about his ability and learn more about himself as well. It could be possible that Dumbledore also possessed the power of legilimency, but it was only known that Voldemort did. Of course, he wanted to harness this, but in time he would learn. For now, he was following orders. It was another mission, but he was partnered with someone he only knew vaguely. They were stranded in Scotland where the last sighting of a man with information they were meant to find. Caleb didn’t know what and he would bet the Dark Lord didn’t know either. There was a new element or plant being placed in wands to have a stronger force, but Caleb wasn’t sure if he believed it. 

That was the forefront of the mission, but the Dark Lord had spoken to him personally before leaving. He knew about Caleb and who he was and what he was. How his family had participated in a war before like this. He knew about him being a Legilimens and that this mission was going to prove useful. But he wasn’t meant to tell Lucian about it. Caleb was alright with lying to someone he barely knew, but Caleb had his own mission to deal with tonight and wasn’t going to show his cards to the other. They had just walked into one of the abandoned shops in the village, hoping to find evidence. “Did this happen from Halloween or before?”

@lucianollivander​

This felt like a test. 

        The Ollivander boy was not exempt from the trials and tribulations he had to go through to get here. However, being paired with a newbie from America seemed like test he should have already passed. He already had a babysitter with some of his Ministry Missions, he didn’t need one for this occasion too. Although he understood that it wasn’t his call. Lucian was not about to question the Dark Lord. He already knew how valuable he was to them. His skill set was not something that could be easily replicated. Although he did wonder what was so special about this man that the Dark Lord took him in. He didn’t look to be from money, which is how many Death Eaters got their membership. If he didn’t fall into money, he fell into talent. A rare few, like Bellatrix Lestrange, sometimes fell into both. 

        Lucian spent his life around wands, so the rumors that had circulated seemed like myth more than fact. He was sure they could make quick work of finding the man they needed, as long as they kept onto the case. “Had to have been before.” Lucian remarked, rummaging through some papers, looking for anything recently left or disturbed. He rubbed the back of his neck, with a low breath, trying to figure out the timing of it all. “I think the forces were spread too thin on Halloween to have done this too. Might be wrong, but I expect I’m not.” Lucian said, looking up at the man. “I’m not sure he was here.”

Sirius looked around as Lucian whistled. “Was it the same time of day you were here last?” he asked absently. He shrugged, not sure what else could be done about it now and tucked into his food. “Got anywhere you’re in a hurry to get to then?” If they were going to sit together, Sirius figured he should at least make good conversation. Even he of all people didn’t trust most purebloods farther than he could throw them unless he knew they were Order members, but a little conversation wouldn’t hurt anything. Sirius would just have to be careful about what he shared in return when he couldn’t yet trust Lucian.

“No, it wasn’t.”

        Perhaps that was the distinguishing factor. It was difficult to tell now that he was in the thick of it once more. If anything though he found himself uncomfortable with the volume of people in the room. “I have work after this, but like any Ministry job it’s not as if anyone is keeping a good eye on you.” He commented, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips once more. The day seemed to be brightening as the coffee was able to his his system. “What about yourself? Anything pressing that you have to deal with today?” Lucian asked, more to keep up appearances than actual curiosity. He didn’t like to let anyone get too close before he was ready for him to. He found in this era it worked out better for him that way. 

Lucian frowned. 

         He hated when he was put on assignments with a partner. Particularly someone who was not from his department, nor specialty. He shot a look over the Shaklebolt with a sigh. To top it all off they were in muggle London for this assignment. He looked around, pulling out a small black notebook at had the details of the case. “It looks like there’s two people to find.” He said somewhat gruffly. There was a stiffness in his actions that came from feeling that someone was watching him do his job. He didn’t need someone to check his work. He was talented and driven. Lucian was unsure why the both of them had been assigned to the case. 

         “It looks like someone was drunk on a broom, was seen by a family or two.” He mentioned. At least that would be easy to deal with. Children’s memories were already so moldable to begin with. Combine that with the memory charm and it seemed like an easy days work. Lucian looked over toward the other, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He wasn’t sure how to proceed from that. 

Nice haircut. 

         He couldn’t help by stifle a chuckle. Even Lucian had to admit that the man looked sad with the beanie on. As if something had been taken from him that could not be recovered. Which was true. Although he had also slipped a red book of ideas from Gilderoy on Halloween. While thievery was not his preferred form of crime it wasn’t a bad one. Lucian had gone back to that infernal cafe that seemed to have an overwhelming crowd. It gave him the best chance of catching him either grabbing coffee or walking on the street. There is no way the man was going to complain just to himself. 

         Lucian ordered himself a cup of black coffee, locking onto the man. He headed toward him, taking a sip of the liquid. He tucked a newspaper underneath his arm, as if the pose Lockhart’s article out. Lucian took a seat near the man, looking over every so often. Curiosity was sure to get the better of him. Lucian wanted to count on that for the time being. 

Sirius nodded. “Good to meet you too,” he replied as he took another bite of food. Sirius glanced around the busy cafe and chuckled. “No, not exactly quiet around here today. Is it normally?” This wasn’t somewhere that he ate often, and if they were always this slammed, he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk again any time soon. The food was good, but not worth being late back to work, even if the only person there to notice was himself.

Lucian shrugged. 

         “Can’t say. I’ve only been here once before.” He looked around at the crowd with a low whistle. “Wasn’t anything like this the first time,” Lucian muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. “I wouldn’t have come back if I thought it was ever going to be this busy.” This was broadly true, because he wanted to avoid having to interact with people at all costs. This was an anomaly that he did not intend on repeating. 

“If this many people are going to be here, better a familiar stranger than a complete one I guess,” he answered.  “Worse things to be than nonthreatening though. Were you here looking for quiet then?”

He thought then nodded. “That I did. Gryffindor actually. I was on the quidditch team and that kept me pretty busy.” His eyes skimmed over the other man again. It was driving him nuts, that vague recognition. His glance didn’t tell him much and he frowned deeper. “Do you know Malcolm maybe?” 

Lucian nodded. 

        “Quiet would have been ideal.” He said, shifting in his seat. Something about a large volume of people around him put him on edge. Lucian looked up to the person across from him. It was true that a familiar stranger was better than a complete one, but Lucian could not place him. It was like it was on the edge of his memory but wouldn’t come forth into the light. Perhaps they had a mutual friend or had crossed paths in a particular class. 

        Lucian nodded along with the new information, thinking about the possible situations that could have happened. “I was in Hufflepuff.” He offered, hoping that it could clear up the situation on the stranger's end. “Greengrass? I know of him, but wouldn’t go so far to say I know him personally.” Lucian paused to take a sip of his coffee once more. “Quidditch wasn’t my sport, but I did partake in dueling club.” 

At his continued confusion Bailey leaned to one side in her chair and tapped her fingers quickly and absently against the wood, even as her right foot bounced at a rapid pace beneath the table. 

“I-” she huffed. “I’m not mad you sat down. I’m- frustrated,” she finally settled on. She wasn’t exactly the most well-versed in articulating her needs sometimes. “I’ve got attention problems and sometimes I can work through distractions and sometimes I can’t. I guess right  now I can’t.” Also, she’d been too blindsided by being approached to actually tell him that she didn’t want company in the first place, but that wasn’t the kind of issue she could remedy now. Her mother’s voice in the back of her head told her to be more patient with the situation. 

When he mentioned reading and potions, though, her gaze sharpened and she took a second look at him, gaze searching. Thank God, at least she wasn’t stuck with an artist or something. Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all. 

“I wanted to see if they’d figured out the pain problem yet,” she said. “Wolfsbane helps with cognizance, but the whole process is still agonizing; things breaking and tearing every thirty days, for years, takes a toll, especially if you’re bitten younger, yeah? Find a way to take away the pain and you’ve got way less long-term trauma to deal with.” She let the magazine fall to the table with a disappointed look though. “But they aren’t even looking at that yet.”

“Did you go to Hogwarts?” she asked, voice tilted with curiosity. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of the posh geniuses Slughorn recruited to his little club?”

Mad and frustrated sounded the same to him. 

        The more she talked about the issue Lucian nodded. That made some sense. It was part of the reason that he had opted for this table in the first place. Had he sat along he would have felt like people’s eyes were on him -- even if they weren’t. In part, it was the reason why he detested small talk in the first place. Not that he was going to come out and say all of that, but he did feel it often. “Sorry to have caused that for you.” Lucian sad lightly, meaning the words. It was perhaps the first time in the conversation where his tone was not defensive. A rarity not often repeated. 

        The girl seemed to pique interest when he began talking about potions. Internally he gave a sigh of relief. At least if he was stuck here he could possibly talk about something meaningful. Lucian picked up his cup of coffee, taking a deep sip of the liquid. He leaned forward slightly, listening to her rant about Wolfsbane. It was such a unique thing to be concerned about given the plethora of options that potions presented itself with. Not that he was judging the pursuit, he was more so curious about what the project meant to her. People don’t pursue things that are completely divorced from their own person. At least from his own experience. 

        Lucian snorted slightly. “I’m not sure it’s an issue they care about frankly.” He said. Whether you agreed with it or not the stigma behind being a werewolf was not something that had completely subsided. “Not to say that it shouldn’t be looked at. The medicine should always improve, but generally, that improvement comes with a sympathetic victim group. Children are a good start to getting at that -- but widely the rhetoric is still out of favor.” He said, more factual than feeling in his speech. “Is there an idea that you have about how to mitigate those harms ?” 

        He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning back in his chair. “I went to Hogwarts, yeah. I was a Hufflepuff.” Lucian said, shifting in his chair almost uncomfortably. He made a face at the mention of Slugclub. “No,” He scoffed,” It’s not like that club did anything. You were just a trophy to him. I was more invested in my studies and the dueling club.” 

“They’re not England, that’s for damn sure. It’s much different here,” Caleb admitted, shrugging his shoulder. It had been kind to him, but Caleb hadn’t been paying attention to getting his footing or making friends. He had not spent the time long enough outside of work or his own apartment which he needed to change. “Ever been anywhere else? We could swap places and see how you like New York. Haven’t had the time but I could use a few recommendations.” Caleb erased a line, brushing the stray debris away. “Would you believe me if  I said change of scenery?”

Lucian shrugged. 

        It was difficult to judge how much something different when you had grown up around it all of his life. He could imagine how its eccentricities might wear on someone though. “I’ve traveled for work mostly, Ministry has sent me a few places, but nothing too notable. For the most part it’s just about getting the job done.” Lucian paused a moment to thing. “Big Ben, the Palace, lots of places that seem to hold more weight in muggle history I guess.” He shook his head, a laugh springing forth. “Perhaps, but for the most part mate it’s not a better view over here.”

“Frankly? Me neither. But it seems to be the general consensus.” Odette shrugged. It was not for lack of wanting to. She had always wanted to join in, with the wizarding and muggle kids alike, but she had never been allowed to. To dangerous to wander at night, costumes too expensive.

She nodded, only feeling a little put out. She looked over at the man, trying to spot whether or not he was being especially rude about it all, but she couldn’t tell. It probably didn’t matter either. Not with everything else going on.

“No problem.” She replied, pulling her wand out, just to be safe.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

         Lucian didn’t often welcome company, especially in times of distress. However, in this particular instance it seemed to make more sense to stick with this woman instead of fighting against the partnership. Not to mention he owed her in the plainest sense for bringing the dementors to his attention in the first place. For that he was grateful, although he could have used a better attitude about the whole endeavor. Although to be fair to her he was sure he wasn’t the most pleasant company. 

        He noticed that she pulled out her wand, glad to see that she didn’t take it the wrong way. “I’m Lucian Ollivander.” He said, extending his non-wand hand as a greeting. After the words left his mouth he cringed a little, he was often better at omitting his last name than he was now. Lucian wanted to blame the dual attention, but it was difficult to say. “Sorry to meet under such undesirable circumstance.” He said lightly, moving his wand slightly to ward off an encroaching dementor. They seemed to be everywhere. 

If people didn’t start clearing out, things had the potential get messy fast. A crowd of people all in the grips of fear and feeling all of their hope drain out of them as they were faced with the threat of being divebombed by soul sucking fiends sounded like the perfect recipe for hysteria to Zephyr and he’d really rather not get caught in the middle of a panic that evening. Of course, since life didn’t seem like it planned on being nice to him, he didn’t plan on being nice, either.

“You think?” Zephyr parroted back at the man, mocking him. Perhaps it was due to being American, but Zephyr didn’t care much for the British habit of using dementors to take care of their problems, especially when the Ministry didn’t seem to have any control over them and they were putting more people at risk. “Any good at a patronus?” As he asked the question, Zephyr took hold of his wand and wordlessly cast the spell, shimmering silver light twisting in a wolf that seemed to share his irritation.

So it was like that. 

         Lucian noted the man’s snark, eyes still trained above. Everyone reacted to larger threats in different ways. Lucian’s were not so kind most of the time. Which he understood, what he wanted to deal with less is people giving that response back to him. The problem still remained that dementors were circling the sky to feed on a large crowd of people, himself included. Lucian ran a hand through his hair, pulling his wand out of his pocket so that it was now in his hand. Out of all the things that were magical in the world Dementors were one of his least favorite. The aftereffects felt very much like a hangover without any of the fun. It wasn’t an exactly fair tradeoff. 

         He nodded, producing a patronus quite quickly. The otter seemed chipper to be produced, unlike the way that the wolf appeared to have been cast. Lucian supposed that in this case the patronus did reflect the people who it belonged to. “That ought to answer your question.” He replied. “Any idea how many of them there are ? I can only take care of a few with this guy.”