[1]

Kronos Malvivicus was traveling incognito today, aided by a simple polyjuice potion[2] provided to him by his potions mistress, Dazmond Wiedman, and the hair of an attractive, young Irish employee of his - one with shoulder length wavy hair and olive skin, brown eyes and a dashing smile.  He was dressed to the nines and sat in the far back corner of the Hog's Head this Saturday afternoon, keeping an eye on the door for the entry of his son, Sasha Schlagenweit.  He was unaccompanied, which was slightly rare.  His wand was kept close and in a position easy to draw, as he always had to be on his toes while in public.

It was around four o'clock as Kronos eyed the doors from his rough, wooden table suited only with white candle stubs that were melted directly onto the table.  When he saw Sasha enter, seeking out the far corners of the pub in his own time, Kronos grinned broadly and lifted a hand, giving a little vertical wave that seemed to show his flamboyant delight at seeing his son's face again so soon.   

They had been sharing letters, and Kronos had never felt so close to anybody in all his years of being in this odd, fantastic world of his.  He was not usually one to use disguises, but having Sasha in his life had changed a lot of things.  He could no longer be as daring as he once was with being seen in public, much less seen in public in his Heir's company, only because of what it might mean for him now in his young age.  He was only a young boy in school at Hogwarts, building up to something.  Kronos wanted to be there for that every step of the way, while never having to sacrifice his closeness to Sasha because of his social standing in polite society.  He was a legendary bad guy.  The world was cursed to never understand his ways.  But Sasha did, Sasha did understand him.  A well-constructed polyjuice potion was worth the visit, and it felt lovely to look like this particular employee.  He felt very fit.

1.	The thread title is inspired by this song by the band Death in June.
2.	Here is a visual and the image of the Wizard that Kronos is impersonating in this new Polyvore set by Natalie.

Sasha had never been to the Hogshead.  In fact, other than the night Professor Knox was bit and the night Sasha first met Kronos, he'd never been much beyond the Hogsmeade station.  A signed permission slip from his parents had been out of the question.  This was in fact his first, official, fully-legitimate Hogsmeade weekend. 

The Hogshead didn't really seem to fit Kronos.  At first appearances, it was too dark, dusty and ... generic for a man that Sasha was far more accustomed to seeing surrounded by cavernous, elaborate grandeur.  Sasha immediately recognized the figure of one Eamonn Mullen but it wasn't until the young man lifted his hand that Sasha was convinced it was, indeed, Kronos under the disguise.  Mullen wasn't unattractive but he simply didn't possess Kronos' flare for the flamboyant.  A refined dip of the head was much better suited to the Irishman than the delighted finger wave that greeted Sasha's arrival. 

Sasha cast one quick cautionary glance around the barroom but he didn't recognize any of the other patrons.  There was really only one whose suspicions would be raised by this meeting, regardless of disguises, and as far as Sasha knew, he was still over at the Three Broomsticks keeping a cursory ear out on the party Sasha had just left.  Or, the adults had moved on elsewhere.  Either way, they weren't here. 

"Allo, sir."  This whole disguise thing was a bit weird, but a necessary evil.  Sasha settled himself in the seat opposite Kronos and blinked, still not entirely sure his head had cleared from the previous birthday festivities.  "This day is just destined to be a bit strange.  I don't think I've ever seen Mullen quite this enthusiastic.  He's probably debating the philosophy of it as we speak."  Most of Kronos' employees weren't always the most thrilled about the old man's recent acquisition; Sasha was fairly certain most simply tolerated him in favor of their own self-preservation.  He avoided them as much as possible.   But Sasha had gotten into a few philosophical discussions with Mullen.  Whether it was still just to humor Sasha, he couldn't tell. 

Kronos was full of mirth and was just barely keeping himself from squealing in delight.  Perhaps it was this new skin that had him feeling more hoydenish than usual - he hadn't realized how much he would enjoy this!  He had to agree, though, he did make poor Eamonn appear quite outside himself.  Planting both hands on the table and leaning down to conspire excitedly, he said, "Oh he went wild when he saw it, he actually is, haha!" 

Mullen had given his hair to Kronos freely, allowing the Wizard to take on his appearance at will and do with it whatever he wanted.  He actually seemed keenly interested in having Kronos Malvivicus walk round in his body suit, as if it would have some kind of spiritual effect on him.  The man was nutters!  Seeing it all in action, though, had seemed to mightily confuse Mullen.  It may have been that Kronos was running through the house half-naked, doing something that could only be described as frolicking.  He thought the poor dear might faint.

"Ahh, the wee bastirt," he said endearingly.  It was Kronos's voice, that much couldn't be debated by anyone who knew him.  He sighed dramatically, landing with his chin in his hand, elbow propped on the table.  He looked at Sasha fondly.

"The day is destined to be strange?" he asked.  "How so?  Tell me everything!  You don't know how to be boring, do you?"  He grinned.

"That has got to feel strange," Sasha voiced as much to himself as to the young man across the table.  He'd never used polyjuice so he could only imagine what it felt like to, literally, be in another man's shoes.  Or, in Eamonn's case, to be looking at a visual duplicate of yourself.  The Ravenclaw in him was, unsurprisingly, intrigued, though.  "Does ... you know ... everything change?  I mean, injuries and taste preferences and temporary stuff, too?"  Or, was it purely genetic?  Clearly, behavioral traits didn't pass on.  What about allergies?  Chronic illnesses?  Or, was it really, nothing more than skin deep?  If someone used the hair of someone who'd assumed another person's appearance in another polyjuice potion, what would the person look like?

This could be the start of a whole new list of questions Sasha was wanting to explore.   

Even without knowing the gritty details, Sasha could easily guess that, in this instance at least, this experience was probably more surreal for Mullen than it was for Kronos.  "Wild?" Sasha looked mildly doubtful of this particular descriptor ever representing Mullen but shook his head, grinning. 

The barkeep stopped by their table and Sasha requested a simple, black coffee. By his standards, at least, he'd already overindulged enough at the party.  He needed at least a coffee before ingesting anything further. 

"You haven't seen me on an all-night study session."  He felt he was perfectly adept at being boring in the right setting.  "But ... I don't know.  Apparently, party games are not my thing.  It seems as though I'm incompetent at the 'Have I Not' game.  Truth or dare wasn't much better."   Sasha grinned and shook his head, hoping to convey his complaints shouldn't be taken too seriously.  They were games, after all.  But, it still had been awkward and somewhat frustrating.

"It's all appearances, really," said Kronos, smiling, head still in his hand.  "As you can tell, I've my own voice.  I feel fit, though; maybe that's in my mind, I dunno."  He stepped twice on the ground with his leg.  "My knee is the same, I think.  Hard to tell because I'm on so many potions.  I have a very good potioneer serving me well these days.  What fun!  So you've had a weird time at your friend's birthday party?" he asked.  "Anyone I might know?  I'm not surprised you find it odd relating to your peers.  That was me, once."

Kronos's grin mellowed out to a smile.  The barkeep came and Sasha asked only for a coffee, so Kronos told the wizard to bring him a cup of tea and some sugar and cream.

"Party games," he said thoughtfully as the barkeep left them alone.  "Sounds like they were maybe quite happy and strange?  People can be so bloody bland.  The smarter you get the more you realize how young the others are at heart.  Simple, simple.  Hang me head in shame."  He grinned again.  "I'm so happy to see your glowing face, my son, Sasha.  Oh dearie.  There's a lot to talk about, isn't there?  How about that box, then?  You said a thestral had appeared on it, and you're still after some way to get within?"

Sasha listened closely to the older man's accounting of his experiences in Mullen's body - information that seemed to raise as many questions as it answered.  "I should try making it," Sasha thought aloud, wrapping his fingers around the warm ceramic of his coffee mug.  "It'd be easy to track variables and..." 

Sasha's voice trailed off as he got lost down his own trails of thoughts.  He hadn't really spoken much with Kronos about his recent considerations for the future, unsure what the man's reaction would be.  There were enough in Kronos' line of work who were also anti-muggle that it was easy to draw the conclusion that anti-Ministry and anti-muggle sentiments went hand in hand.  It was only a matter of time before Kronos found out - either through Sasha or somebody else if Sasha didn't speak up. 

"What do you think about muggles, sir," he asked, testing the water.

When asked about Abby and the party, Sasha first shook his head.  He couldn't remember having mentioned Abby before and he was certain they'd never actually crossed paths.  But, after a second thought, Sasha wasn't so sure.  He was quickly growing to accept that Kronos typically knew more than Sasha was aware of.  Given how much time Sasha generally spent in Abby's company over the summer and during the fall term, it almost seemed a given that Kronos did know something. 

"I don't know.  You might."  Sasha admitted, shrugging, grinning slightly at the acknowledgment that he was well aware of ever present Kronos' observations.  "She's, you know, a good friend and she's, well, a squib.  So, she doesn't go to Hogwarts.  We spent a lot of time together last year when I was home.  She's fun; I care about her a lot.  I ..."  Sasha pursed his lips and shrugged, taking, a sip of his coffee. 

Kronos' description of the party games sounded accurate, for the most part, with that obvious Kronos-esque dramatic flare that one just learned to take for granted.  It was unlikely to change anymore than Sasha's own tendency towards overthinking.  He was glad, in the end, to turn his attention to the box and upcoming tournament task. 

"Yes.  Just a couple days ago.  Engraved on the lid.  I have a hard time imagining it has to do with the actual, living thestrals.  As remarkable as they are, I don't know how many of us champions can actually see them."  The more Sasha thought about it, the more it seemed having opening the box rely on the actual, physical animals seemed to give a very small minority of them an unfair advantage that was beyond the other participants control.  "I've been making a list of traits, brainstorming ideas - diet.  Behavior.  It has given me a convenient excuse to spend time around them."

"You want to make Polyjuice potion?" he asked.  "Tell me and I'll have my people get it ready for you, all the supplies you need for anything, we'd find a way."

Kronos received his tea shortly after Sasha's coffee came, and he dipped the small teaspoon into the sugar several times over before he began pouring in the heavy cream.  "Oh?" he asked.  "I think I do know who you're talking about," he winked in good measure after Sasha's grin.  He could see his boy was getting used to him knowing things he shouldn't reasonably know, and that being part of his overall mystique.  It was lovely that way, and he took pride in that.  He nodded once, shortly, as he topped off his tea and began to stir.  "That's good," he said, shrugging slightly with a fair nature.  So Sasha had a friend in the Squib, and today had helped to celebrate her birthday.  He was getting used to the fact that Sasha was a bit softer hearted than he had been in his youth.

"Muggles," said Kronos contemplatively.  "What do I think of Muggles?"  He stewed with that.  It was an interesting question, and he tried to think what might be stored behind it.  "What do I think of anybody who isn't us," he said, "Well, they're all quite a bit too normal, aren't they.  Compared to us."  Kronos's eyes shimmered gayly in the dim pub's candlelight.  He cocked his head shortly to give it some real thought.  "You know," he said, "Actually you know more than most any Wizard I'm familiar with, like when we saw Billy Elliot?  That was a right good show.  A show almost worthy of the old names, all Muggle, too.  William Shakespeare to Cary Grant.  In music, in theatre, in almost any art they excel.  I come from all Muggle stock and, while I deplore my family in some ways, I adore them in many others.  I owe as much to Muggle culture as I do to the Wizarding world.  Overall, you and me are vastly superior to any of it, but what would we be without it?"  Still stirring, Kronos looked twice at his cup and finally set his spoon aside.

He took the crude tea cup in his hand as daintily as he could; it was not the fine porcelain he had at home, but a thick ceramic mug.  "What do you think of Muggles, Sasha?" he asked in return, honestly curious about his take on the matter. 

"It's a good point you raise," said Kronos, slightly fluffing Eamonn's hair with his free hand, idly.  "Couldn't do with the actual Thestrals, could it?  Though I'm glad you've gotten to spend some of your spare time with the dear creatures.  Do you love them?  I could purchase some, I'm sure, if you do fancy them."  He raised his brows, thinking seductively of the gains of doing such.  But then his mind was back to the box.  "Have you thought what the connection might be, between the Thestrals and the Acromantulas?  What about their natural habitats?  Could it have something to do with the upcoming task?  Well, what exactly were the instructions for your perusing the box, anyway?  How long is it yours to peruse?  Must you pass it off to the next champion, or do you have the time to really figure it out?"

The Ravenclaw pursed his lips in thought before nodding his head.  "Ja, I think I do, sir.  They say that potion is difficult, but it seems an interesting and straightforward thing to explore." 

Not that he really had the spare time to be brewing spare potions.  The thought of the added workload triggered an unexpected yawn and Sasha quickly hid it with a hand before taking a sip of black coffee.  "I can't wait for the winter holidays," he admitted aloud, shaking his head. 

Sasha cradled his coffee cup in his hands, his gaze falling on a random point on the table as he listened closely to Kronos' explanation.  The comments were encouraging, to say the least.  He hadn't been entirely sure what he would have done if the older man rattled off some coarse, harsh, muggle-baiting rhetoric.  Luckily, there didn't seem to be a need to find out.  Most of it even sounded familiar, not that this should have come as a surprise.  For months, Sasha had questioned and doubted what Kronos thought he saw in Sasha but the man had continued to insist there were similarities. 

Even after Kronos returned the question, Sasha sat quietly, digesting the information.  "You should explore some areas in West Berlin before claiming muggles are too normal.  They make your average witch look mundane." 

"Well, you know I pretended to be muggle outside of Hogwarts until-"  Until after Christmas the previous year.  "I had to keep up with what I'd be learning if I'd stayed in a muggle school.  I always assumed I was muggleborn but, apparently, it looks like my father - birth father - might have been pureblood.  I guess, I just-" Sasha cast a quick glance around them but the tables around them still remained sparsely occupied.  "I don't think I understand the separation.  The 'us and them' thoughts.  I guess, I'm kind of hoping that's something I can do in the future."  It was a brief, tentative, tester explanation. 

Sasha grinned and nodded.  "I think thestrals are fascinating.  They just feel like old spirits?  Less snooty than unicorns."  Or, at least, less gender-biased.  But, Sasha had been looking at the box with primarily the thestrals in mind.  He honestly hadn't tried to connect the acromantulas in the first task with the thestrals.  "I don't know," Sasha admitted after considering the idea briefly.  But, at least at first, there seemed to be little connection between the two.  "The acromantulas seem matriarchal - at least the ones we had.  But, I don't - thestrals don't seem matriarchal."  They weren't the same classification level, they didn't share time preferences.  I can't think of anything."

Kronos barked a laugh at the comment about abnormal Muggles in Berlin, and he said joyfully, "Good boy!" 

He smiled over the rim of his cup as he watched Sasha think and stumble over his thoughts aloud.  Yes, there was the bit about his Muggle family, and the old loops he'd had to jump through before the ungrateful fools had been mostly blinked out of existence for the betterment of all.  There were the Muggle subjects he still acted on mastering (well good for him, thought Kronos righteously), and there was the old Muggle Appreciation Club that he led (the idea of which Kronos fancied).  The old, or rather young, man sat sipping his excessively sweet tea (lumps upon lumps of sugar and more than half the liquid was creme to cover the foul weak flavour of the tea they served here), Kronos tried to follow his son through the "us and them" thoughts.

He squinted, still smiling.  Bringing people together seemed awfully noble to Kronos, but he tucked away the thought with the assumption that it must have made some sort of sense and would be revisited later by way of a natural course.

Thestrals were, indeed, less snooty than unicorns; Kronos crinkled Eamonn's nose at his adorable son.  It was a shame that he didn't have access to Eamonn Mullen's puzzle mastering brain in this moment.  He'd love to have a crack at it, but he'd just have to settle for asking the man to work on it when he returned home to the palace.  In the meantime, he continued mulling over the known facts with Sasha.

"They're both sleek, black creatures with a peculiar relationship to death, as well as blood," he observed wonderingly.  "Both live in forests if you let them; the forbidden forest might be common ground," he said.  "And they both in their own ways respond to human speech.  I wouldn't rule out the possibility that the living thestrals have some part in it, maybe they could proffer a clue.  You should take advantage of the fact that you have a personal relationship with death the same as them," recommended Kronos.

He put down his cup and added nicely, "I don't doubt at all that you will do brilliantly, Sasha, any way the cookie crumbles.  Have you eaten?  I must say I'm looking forward to the Holidays myself so I can fatten you up, you skinnymalinky!  Too much studying and not enough feasting makes us all into dull boys."  He grinned.  "I could take you to the bakery after, also.  The pub food is alright but there is better fare elsewhere in Hogsmeade.  I don't want you getting peckish.  Just tell me what it is you want; it's never any trouble."  Kronos looked round quickly with Eamonn's hazel eyes and pulled a flask out of his embellished robes, drinking three great gulps of the polyjuice inside before he tucked it back out of sight.

The old man's response to Sasha's admissions was subtle but, by now, the Ravenclaw knew the man well enough to understand - even with the polyjuice disguise.  There was certainly more approval than disapproval and that was enough for Sasha.  He didn't know where this path was going to take him - there were still so many unknowns.  But, he had a suspicion the path would lead could put him at odds with the Ministry but that, at least, was one thing he was certain wouldn't concern Kronos. 

The conversation moved on to the tournament task and Sasha turned his focus back to the mysterious box.  If there was one thing the Ravenclaw liked, it was puzzles and he was definitely curious to hear Kronos' thoughts. 

"Death?" Sasha's brow furrowed in thought as he cradled his cup of coffee.  He, of course, understood the connection between thestrals and death but, "acromantula?  You mean, as predators?  Or, do they have other cultural connections?  Or mythical?"  Sasha was filing away Kronos' ideas and recommendations, adding them to the building list in his head.  "Blood.  Meat.  Diet.  Acromantula are also matriarchal.  I don't know about thestrals, though.  They're clearly social but I haven't been able to tell if it's a male or female that leads the group." 

A personal relationship with death.  Is that what he had?  And, was it as simple as that?  Sasha was reluctant to admit it, especially to the man across from him, but he wasn't sure he was quite as settled in that relationship as Kronos assumed.  Or, perhaps, this was yet something else Kronos knew more about than he was letting on.  "Speaking of which-" Sasha started, then cast another glance around.  This was very likely not the ideal place to bring up the topic of necromancy.  There were some words that, even if simply overheard, encouraged further eavesdropping.  Necromancy seemed to be one of those words. 

"After the party, I think I could use some non-pub food," Sasha agreed.  Partly to move them out of the confines of the pub.  Partly because Sasha couldn't think about eating anything that featured starch or frying as its number on ingredient.  "And, you know, this is my first time in Hogsmeade.  Other than the station.  Most of it is still a mystery."

"I like acromantulas," said Kronos in response, sort of skirting the question of death at first.  "I have a fair few of them, myself that I've had raised from the egg.  They make excellent guards, as in the case of your tournament task, when you saw that... matriarch," he used Sasha's word.  "Protecting her young?  The task would have been harder if she'd been trained to guard the box.  And then she would capture, paralyze, and drain her prey of life."  He took a big sip of his tea.  "They're connected to death, have an intimate relationship with it; without death they die.  To breathe one must make sacrifices."

Sasha looked around and started to speak on a connected topic; Kronos quickly gathered what that was, remembering the letter.  He drank another bit of tea to cover over the foul aftertaste of the polyjuice, and nodded, agreeing with Sasha as he suggested they do go elsewhere and grab a bite to eat of some decent food.  And, he hadn't been anywhere in Hogsmeade!

"Lovely," beamed Kronos.  "What an honour to be your escort, Sasha.  Come with me and let's go to Signature," he said.  He extracted a galleon from the side pocket of his posh vest and set it on the table, rising to his feet and leading the way.  He had to consciously tone down the way he was used to walking, posturing himself like a King everywhere he went just wasn't going to work the same way when he was wearing Eamonn's body.

"Signature is easily the place to be in Hogsmeade," he informed Sasha.  "It's almost a village all it's own.  There's a stage with regular Burlesque shows, a nightclub, a restaurant, and a good few decent rooms for rent that are worthy of men like you and me."  They walked down the street together and Kronos relaxed his body a great deal to look unsuspecting.  After they were out of the pub he'd fallen back a few steps to walk alongside Sasha.  There were many people out on the streets going between buildings, obviously up from Hogwarts along with Sasha.  Kronos kept the volume of his voice in check as they went along together, him in Eamonn's image.

"Was there anything you needed to buy from the village?" he asked.  "I always found it a good opportunity to stock up on various supplies, or to find books not carried by the school's library.  I'd be happy to help you pay for anything you might like to buy," said Kronos.  "After we go for some dinner, yes?"

Sasha's eyes widened, briefly, at the news that Kronos had acromantulas scuttling around his homes.  Somewhere.  Coming into one of the spider's lair on a bright, sunny day when you were expecting them was intimidating enough.  Stumbling upon one by accident, in the dark, was something else entirely.  Especially if they had, as Kronos described, been trained to guard. 

He'd stick with Baldur for now.  You could hug a dog. 

"They recognize you, though, right?  If they do recognize speech, do they know ... what to guard? And whom not to guard against?"  They looked like overgrown spiders and Sasha had never really thought of spiders as having much in the way on intellect.  He'd, of course, seen evidence of a more sentient being within the matriarch in the maze but it was still difficult to picture them of being able to reason.  And judge.  And, decide who to paralyze and devour and who not to.  "I think I'd rather stick with the thestrals.  They're-"  They were no less predators.  No less dependent on killing to survive.  There was really no logical reason for the difference in reaction but...at least thestrals didn't scuttle.  "I'm not really sure what one can do with them."

"I've heard that," Sasha admitted, grinning slightly.  "Signature.  It was always the talk among the upperclassmen.  No one mentioned the ... shows."  At least, not to him.  Or, if they had, he'd managed to successfully and completely tune them out.  Burlesque was right up there on the list of trigger words that typically sent Sasha diving into the nearest book or magazine.  "I take it they have better offerings than the pubs?" 

Shopping for school (and other) supplies.  With a parental figure.  This, along with the casual stroll around Hogsmeade, was a first.  Having his parents accompany him had never been an option.  Nor had he the luxury of buying during the summer and keeping the supplies at home.  Most pre-school supply trips had been a whirlwind dash between getting left off at the station for a train to Zurich and catching the Hogsmeade express.  "I do have some school supplies to gather - and I wouldn't mind taking a peek at quidditch supplies.  Though, the most pressing thing are dress robes.  There's rumors that champions must have dates and appropriate attire for the Yule ball.  I don't have either, but the robes I can, at least, get in Hogsmeade." 

"Such deadly smart creatures," he noted.  "They certainly speak and reason same as any human might, though they choose who they're loyal to more questionably, and can't easily be told not to kill.  My acromantulas are very loyal to me, though," he reassured Sasha, who he could tell was sort of hinting at his own safety.  "They aren't living in any places that you're likely to stumble across them right now, but, one day, when you're older, they will answer to you."  He smiled knowingly at Sasha before looking ahead of them, hands in his pockets.  His acromantulas guarded his treasure troves, something which was quite important to have when you were rich and at odds with the Ministry.  Couldn't very well keep a vault in Gringotts.

"Thestrals?" asked Kronos with an upbeat tone to his voice.  "You can ride them you know, bet you'd love that.  They can be a challenge to ride, but it's quite brilliant once you have one trained.  They can't speak the same as an acromantula, but they certainly understand speech the same as your common owl.  They'll take you anywhere you want to go in a jiffy by air.  They will also attack any enemy of the Wizard they align themselves with, which can be very fun."  He snickered as if remembering something with fondness.

They made their way to Signature and, as Sasha asked about the fare, Kronos raised his brows.  "Oh yes," he said emphatically.  "Quite good.  Their restaurant is the best in the British Wizarding world," attested Kronos.

They rounded the corner and stood before a drab, normal looking building[1] without any windows.  A sign with the establishment's name hung over the plain door, spelled out in black diamonds.

"Here we are!" announced Kronos sort of anticlimactically.  Opening the door though, revealed an enormous and bedazzling entrance.  "We'll get you anything you need," he assured Sasha as he held the door open for him.  "Everything except a date, probably," he chuckled and winked, "Though I'm sure you're more than capable of finding that on your own."

They went inside and Kronos led the way down some stairs and past the lounge, not bothering to check their jackets.  He waved off the wizard who tried to approach them.  Then he veered to the right to go up a flight of stairs. 

"Have anyone in mind then?" he asked conversationally as they climbed up the stairwell.

1.

Signature

To have an acromantula at one's beck and call.  He could only imagine what that must feel like.  It had to make one feel powerful - almost invincible.  Traits that Kronos seemed to portray on a regular basis, even without the advantage of tank-sized spiders.  Reasoning, thinking, plotting tank-sized spiders.  Were they equally capable of deceit and trickery?  "That seems ... like it'd be crazy," Sasha admitted.  Despite Kronos' confidence, it was still hard to picture himself - him with such creatures at his command.  Or, rather, him being able to command such creatures.  He doubted it'd be as simple as house elves - that loyalties would just ... shift, unquestioningly. 

But, thankfully, that seemed to be a challenge for another day.  Sasha was in no rush to test his true heritage to Kronos, at least as far as the loyalties of deadly creatures were concerned.  He'd much prefer to try his hand at riding - riding thestrals.  That had to be utterly brilliant. 

"Challenge?  In getting them to let you ride them.  Is there some ritual or trick or magical...whatever, or is it just ... technically difficult?  If it's just the mechanics of staying astride-"  Well, that didn't really concern Sasha.  He'd been riding since he was four.  "It sounds like they develop loyalties as well?" 

Sasha followed the older (younger) man into the building and stopped just inside the door.  The surprisingly modern grandeur of the decor made up for whatever usual flamboyance Kronos' declaration lacked.  The interior was like nothing one would expect given the building's surroundings.  In fact, the interior wasn't much like what one would expect to find in the wizarding world in general.  This was probably the first place in the wizarding world Sasha had visited that his step-father might have approved of. 

"This is unexpected," he admitted, under his breath, continuing to look around as he followed up the staircase.  "The owner must be muggleborn." 

The topic of dance dates was enough to turn Sasha's attention back to the conversation.  Romance seemed much more complicated in reality than Sasha had ever really expected.  Sasha had loved Ferguson but he still didn't know if it had been strictly about Fergie or if he was supposed to still be dating other boys.  He had a hard time seeing himself dating any of the other boys in his class.  But, then, he had a hard time picturing himself dating any of the girls in his class, either.  Again, it just seemed to be about one specific person. 

"I ... yes.  I mean, I know who I'd want to ask, I just don't know how it'd be taken.  I ... Abby?  You know, the squib?  Not that that matters.  I'm not sure she'd want to go with me, though.  Or, even if she can.  I can't see myself going with anyone else, though."

"Oh, oh yes," said Kronos.  "Thestrals are immensely loyal if they like you - and I've no doubt about it - you'd have no trouble making friends, yourself.  With your skill and experience with horses, well, it's much the same with Thestrals.  That's half the trouble I'd have to say, and the other bit of it is simply staying afloat!  Technical skill, as you say.  There isn't a whole lot to hold onto and it can be damned dangerous.  But practice does make perfect, right, son?  And who wouldn't want to perfect that art?  I'll have some Thestrals at the ready next time you come home, and that's a promise," he said.  "You'll see for yourself what riding them is like.  Here we go,"

They were entering the restaurant proper as they turned the tides of the conversation toward dates for the holidays.  Kronos was admittedly taken aback that Sasha thought of taking Abby, the Squib girl whose birthday party he'd just attended.  Father Kronos quirked a brow.  It hadn't occurred to him that his boy might not be entirely cured of the potential for an adoration of those pesky female people.

"Really?" he asked.  "Well I suppose it's fashionable to show with a friend.  You're young, you have all the time in the world - and really there isn't much time for dating now, is there?"

His prejudice was clear.  They were distracted momentarily, however, by a Wizard who greeted them and showed them to their table, allowing them to choose the general area where they'd go.  Kronos led them toward the large windows overlooking the village.  They sat down to a lovely, enchanted view of a much more glorious version of Hogsmeade than they'd left in the alley.  Sparkling lights danced far below in the glittering town, though they hadn't climbed very many stairs. 

Kronos opened his menu and began considering what he'd have for lunch. 

"You wanted to discuss necromancy," he said matter of factly, not even looking up from the menu.  "What questions do you have?"