Head flickering in the flames of the fireplace, Darian made a face. “Come on,” he said. “Just a little asking around. Just a smidge. I need to know whether the Cirque de la Lune has moved on, and you have far shadier contacts.”

From where he sat in a spindly armchair, his cousin shook his head. Around him his sitting room was dark; it was late in Scotland, and later in Paris where Darian knelt to achieve the head-only aspect of Hogwarts’ closed floo system. “I’m just a mild-mannered librarian,” Landis demurred, tone airy and his pale eyes widening in mimicry of Darian’s usual theatrics. He didn’t seem happy about the request for whatever mysterious talk Darian wouldn’t entrust to a letter, and was taking it out by being difficult. Quite typical of him. Still, there was no call for sarcasm. He earned himself a frown from the designer.

 “Merlin weeps,” Darian informed him tartly, “at your callousness towards family. Darling, your best mate lives in Knockturn. Our only mutual friends are somewhat unsavory and I must assume you have more stashed elsewhere given that you treat every conversation like some diabolical attempt to suss out all your secrets. Not to mention I haven’t nearly forgotten your little snit when you found out that Monsieur M was one of my most loyal clients.” He sniffed, tossed his hair. “There are some spells a normal citizen just doesn’t have reason to know, that’s all I’m saying.”

“With you every conversation is an attempt to suss out my secrets,” his cousin replied acerbically, mouth twisting in a scowl. “You weren’t inclined to help me then. Why should I pursue this for you?”

“I would've helped you with anything else. It's only that trying to capture one of the Ministry’s Most Wanted on my own was the most idiotic thing you’ve ever suggested,” Darian replied primly. “Besides, he’s practically my best customer – “

“He’s a crime lord, you unbelievable twat – "

“He bought my entire stock once. You simply don’t repay consumer loyalty in such a manner, Landis.”

Landis looked at him, then picked up the poker. “I’m going to close the floo,” he said slowly, as if talking to a child, and Darian hastened on before Landis could rake over the coals. “Right, look, I’m sorry, that’s in the past. Forget Malvivicus. I haven’t seen him in ages. Will you do this for me? I’ll spread news of your infamy among your students, I’ll bring you chocolates in bed.”

“However can I resist,” Landis said coldly, gripping the poker with what Darian felt was unnecessary zeal.

“A YEAR, coz,” Darian pressed. “A whole year, anything you like. Free. I’ll make you the swoopiest robes ever so that you might terrorize the dungeons. Snape himself couldn’t be more proud, you’ll look amazing. New trousers, ties, vests…” His voice lowered as with a stroke of inspiration he hit upon his mark. “I’ll make her wedding dress.” He peered keenly up at Landis’ expression, which had gone shuttered instead of cold. “I’ll make Juliette’s wedding dress,” he repeated. His lips parted over his smile. He spoke softly and with guile.  “You don’t know how much wedding dresses cost, do you. You can’t imagine yet. Poor thing.”

“If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll definitely need to look elsewhere for help.”

 “Landis, they are so very, very expensive. And which do you want her to have? Her dream gown which makes her feel beautiful, fits her perfectly, every curve and inch…” His smile widened. “Or some off-the-rack dress made for any woman - the only thing you can afford.”

Landis was silent for a long moment. “Insulting and transparent,” he said at last. “Insultingly transparent – "

Darian waved this off, perking to the exasperation in the other’s voice that generally meant he was soon to have his way. “Yes, but did it work?” Landis admitted that it did, and Darian cheered. He said that he would make inquiries and send Darian an owl later that week. Then, business concluded, he dumped a load of ash on the fire and ended their call with his usual straight-forward and understated dramatics. Crawling back out from the fireplace Darian smiled to himself. Paris was beautiful, fashionable, cosmopolitan in the extreme. He'd enjoyed it very much for the past few months, but it wasn't home. It would be so good to be back in London again...

That is, as long as Jean-Luc wasn't there.