After  "We are neighbours' children, whom you have seen before."

Ah, so it was on the this side of town.  Adon didn't get around here often enough, but he knew these sorts of places as well as he knew his own name.  Adon looked at the slip of parchment in his hand, comparing it to the--well, he couldn't quite see a number on the house, but the neat-and-tidy, white columned building was the only one on this part of the block.  Adon could appreciate a place like this.  Both sides of his family--but particularly the Grimm side--had access to places and people that mere mortals and mere Muggles did not.  While estranged from that world, Adon still had the benefits of privilege with few of its drawbacks: a good education, a good pedigree--should he need it, and of course, large sums of money to buy most anything he needed--or felt at least a passing interest in.  He just could dispense with the stuffy dinners.  His mother had done all the heavy lifting as Family Disappointment, so anything he did was scarcely going to scandalize anyone. Adon Eleor was looking up at its heavy, white walls, and he could guess at the expectations a house such as this would have.  The House of Almasy. 

Yes, now that he thought about it, the Almasys--an august family from... one of those Durmstrang countries.  Raine Almasy must be from that pureblooded clan.  It made sense, then, the provocation and murder of the sister. He'd read it in the files only moments before.  It was good to know of any potential pit-falls and sore spots in these interviews.  It was already likely to be hard enough, if Raine reciprocated any of the affection that Emeline Trumble had attributed to her brother.

Boots crunching upon the neatly graveled walk, Adon approached the door and with firmness, banged the brass knocker, in the shape of a dragon.  He could hear the sound of it echo through the house.  In the momentary silence that followed, Adon resisted the urge to peer through the cut-glass on either side of the door.  He was all decorum, now.  Professionals did not pry.  But, upon consideration, he was also an Auror, who was paid for what could be termed professional curiosity...

Adon titled his head slightly as he shifted his weight to the side, leaning ever so slight--

There was a movement from with, and Adon instinctively snapped back to attention.  A place like this would probably have a house elf--or, if they were truly fancy some sort of man servant--to do such menial tasks...

In the quickly fading and golden light of a winter's afternoon, the blindingly white halls of the Almasy residence was filled with crackling laughter. Children's laughter. Little ones with smooth heads of black or fiery locks of red - running about in their finest frocks and robes, screaming bloody murder. Gabbling in perfect, articulate Russian. A harassed looking governess ran after them while they crossed the entrance hall.

Raine was already dressed for dinner when the startling groan echoed throughout the mansion, herself descending the great stairwell into the hall. That was the sound of their front door knocker!

Before any of the maids could stir from the backrooms, two of the young cousins dashed towards the great double doors, jostling in their race to be the first to answer. The governess curtailed her own path to go after them but Raine was already ahead of the crew, striding barefoot to reach the gilded handle and pull it open with competitive flourish.

She stared.

In the background, coming to a complete halt and hiding behind the skirts of her mint tulle dress, the children peeked up at Auror Eleor. Raine recognised the crimson robes with a startled skip of her heartbeat - associating them first with when she'd lost her sister, secondly with her own love for the profession - but gave little indication of either.

"Oh. Hello," she shot the wizard a confused look and glanced briefly back at the governess to gesture she take the cousins away. Nothing to do with them, surely, as most of the relatives at home today were only visiting from Moscow.

Aunt Ira, as far as she knew, was not in the habit of receiving social calls from British law enforcement. Conversely... this was rather an impossible place to turn up lost.

"I apologise. Are you here to see Au-- to see Ira, I mean?" Raine stepped aside to let Eleor into the hall - instinctively trusting of aurors, though equally aware that there were fewer places so safe as her aunt's home. Especially with so many Almasys under the roof, she felt secure enough to affect polite social manners. "Do come in." Tall, bored looking portraits on either side of the foyer stared down interestedly at this scene.

"Raine Almasy," she clarified and offered a straightforward handshake, angling it a bit higher, being as minute as she was without any shoes on. "You'll have to wait a short while, she normally turns up when someone's knocked."

Adon cast a pre-emptive, sympathetic smile.  Slow, and a bit melancholy.  "Auror Adon Eleor," he returned.  "I actually have come to speak with you, as a matter of fact," he said in crisp, accented English.  She said something about her aunt's arrival and he nodded obligingly.  That would be Ira Almasy.  Adon might have been a little intimidated at coming face-to-face with a bold and pureblooded witch of power had it not been so dominant in his own pedigree.

Anyone who had survived an upbringing under Hestia Grimm could, he hoped, withstand the pomp, circumstance, and veiled force that one such as Ira Almasy could bring.

Besides, there was little choice, even if Adon had wanted to avoid it.  Raine Almasy was a few days shy of being of age, and it was customary not to question a minor without proper permission from guardians.  Adon glanced just past her, beyond the huddled children behind her; his eyes danced with a bit of mischief as he exchanged stares with a raven-haired little one who, with a little yelp, buried her face further into Miss Raine Almasy's skirt. 

"Might I come in until she does?"

"Might I come in until she does?"

Ira entered the foyer through the westernmost archway, white silk trousers saved by the grace of three inch heels from dragging across the floor. Her sweater was the same shade as Raine's frock - a purposeful sense of uniformity between older and younger Almasy. She feigned slight surprise on seeing the red robes, sense of displeasure hidden.

There had always been the possibility that the Trumble boy would keep those letters. Sentimental mongrel.

Raine was letting the wizard in as the young children blushed at attention from the stranger, scattering away upon Ira's arrival. "Oh. Um, yes. Of course, please..." her niece was saying, "Ah. There you are, Aunt Ira. This is--"

"Auror Eleor." Ira offered a pale and slender hand to him, filled more graciousness than formality. "A pleasure to receive the Ministry's finest in my home. What business brings you here?" she looked between the man and girl with a lighthearted air - as if though nothing could be more natural than a social call from Law Enforcement.

Nothing touched Ira's social manner; she was well prepared for this, had left at least one clue for her relative. One that might either be secreted or divulged: they would see. "It's me he's come to see, apparently?" Raine turned back to the Auror with a little frown as her fiery brow tensed.

The door shut behind Adon and the silence of the manor was abruptly stark, laughter or footsteps a distant noise.

One of the younger children remained with them, clutching Raine's skirts and staring bashfully up at the Auror as if though she wasn't sure if his handsomeness meant he was good or dangerous. People were rarely both.

"A pleasure to receive the Ministry's finest in my home. What business brings you here?"

Well, that was laying it on thick.  Though, from the looks of their clothes alone, the family was either preparing for a family portrait, or there was some sort of streak of a hyperbolic sense of propriety running through the family.

Adon made eye contact with the little one, giving another smile.  It was not his place to send him away; Adon only hoped that Decorous Aunt Ira would have the good sense to do so.  Until then, he'd steer clear of any upsetting wording.  It was a measure that he'd do well to adopt, anyhow.

"Yes--I'd like to ask Raine some questions regarding her correspondence with Zel Trumble."  He looked at Raine, his eyebrows gathering in concern instinctively.  "Zel was reported missing; it seems you're one of the last people to correspond with him, so we'd appreciate your insight." He couldn't handle it any longer--the little one, there. "Perhaps there is somewhere we could discuss this in private?" he asked Raine, glancing over to Ira to take her temperature on the matter.

Raine stared at Auror Eleor as if though he had just attempted to hex her. Reported missing. Zel Trumble. Her Zel Trumble? Whatever he was saying after that point went right over her head while she dropped her gaze to the floor, ruminative. She couldn't remember the last letter they'd exchanged.

Greece had been distracting. She barely communicated with the Nightshades using their much more efficient methods.

Her aunt was speaking.

"Of course. If you would follow me through to the tea room, I believe it is empty." Ira sounded almost subservient, it was irregular enough to pull Raine out of her thoughts. "Alexei," the older woman continued in Russian. "To your governess." The young boy snapped his heels together and ran off in the direction of his cousins.

He threw a glance back at the three of them, Raine smiling uncertainly at him before she went with her aunt and the Auror - to the right of the foyer, beneath the archways of two marble white corridors and into the tea room where they had breakfasted only this morning.

It was as clean and polished as the rest of the manor but only two of the tables were set. White linen clothes and flower centrepieces that matched the golden curtains, the gilded high windows. Three chairs slid out in response to their entrance. Raine sat without prompt, looking decidedly pale underneath her mess of red hair. Her hands met, fingers fiddling anxiously as she frowned at the man.

"When did he go missing?" she asked before Ira could speak, tone decidedly hard. "And I don't know what you mean about.. about correspondences. We haven't written since..." Raine paused to think and bit her lower lip. "November?"[1]

She felt guilty at the admission, largely because she had forgotten to write back at the time.

1.	Breaking in soft fires and wildflowers - Nov 1st to 9th

This was the least pleasant part of the job--the part he felt best suited for.  That uncomfortable, jarring clash with reality, with sentiment, with ramifications.  It was not just an investigation.  It was lives; it was Zel Trumble's life that was being teased out and worked out.  It was Raine Almasy's life, too.  And her emotions.  He gave a sympathetic smile towards the girl--apologetic, really--and flicked his eyes towards the aunt, now taking action.

He was happy for the decisive action, the ushering out of the open and into the private room, and the expression crossing his features said as much.  He waited until Raine was settled before seating himself across from her.  He was quiet a moment, contemplating.

"I see," Adon said finally, eyes fixed squarely on her.  Just out of focus, in the periphery, he could see the hands of the aunt, fingers curled around her niece's shoulders.  Like a lioness with her young.

Adon understood passionately overprotective women.  He had spent his life around them.  Best to treat the young with delicacy and go on. Any attention drawn to the lioness could provoke unanticipated responses.

He took a moment to process this.  There were pictures--of that cat.  The new cat.  A kitten. Which gave a very clear timeframe.  If that was truly Raine Almasy's cat, that would narrow the potential authors of the letter to quite a small circle, indeed.  Someone who had come into this house.  Someone who had gotten close enough to a likeness of Raine that they'd--most probably--fool Zel Trumble.

Though a boy in love was already a fool; that would not take much work.

"He did not report to the Ministry at the full moon," he informed carefully; any response on his part was likely to create more questions, which Raine Almasy had as much a right to as anyone.  He could have told from the stock-still pallor she'd received the news with that any closeness between she and Zel Trumble was, to some extent, requited.  He would have to proceed with the next information much more cautiously.  There was a sick twist to his stomach as he made the next decision. "We're trying to reach out to everyone who he might have had contact with over the break.  Close friends, relatives..."

He would not tell her all he knew. She would want to know; there would be questions.  But this was quite unexpectedly a very precarious position, and the phantom writer might well be within earshot.  Could be the lioness herself. He could not lay the cards out now if there was any chance that he could gain some advantage.

"I had thought...There was mention that he had been corresponding with you over the break." The corner of his lips turned into a teasing, almost abashed, smile.  "His sister might have had the impression that you were...dating."  It was a prod to evoke emotion, which he felt sorry for.  But her response might be telling, there.

Quickly, he breathed through his nose, shaking his head.  "I might have the timelines wrong, though.  Maybe you can help me with that.  November's in the middle of term..." She should have been passing notes with him in class, not sending owls.  He tilted his head quizzically.  "I take it you have not been at Hogwarts with him?"

Her niece was not present.

Ira stood behind the chair, hands reassuringly clasped on Raine's shoulders as the younger Almasy stared right through their guest and into an orderly recollection of the recent past. No doubt attempting to find a flaw in her own memory to explain the illogic of their situation.

Eleor, however, seemed coy about his assertions. Ira regarded him with the full weight of her attention as he spoke - persuasive, personable. He was looking for confirmation of a suspicion.

"...might have had the impression that you were...dating."

She felt Raine stiffen, sitting straight at attention as if though she'd been pinched by the governess - sweet, freckled features were pinched into a hard and unreadable expression. "No," her niece replied icily. "I would correspond on a much more frequent basis if that were the case."

Ira smiled faintly at the insinuation that had been derived, and cut into the conversation as smoothly as she could before offence could be greatly taken on either side.

"I'm afraid I have taken my niece out of school," she explained as if this were a most natural thing to have done. "For more thorough training, you understand. She returns only to sit for her NEWTs. I understand that is a necessary qualification for your Ministry's red robes..." Ira's gaze fell appraisingly on the Aurors garb before she met him in the eye once more, the indifference in her countenance at odds with the concern of her voice.

"What do you believe has happened to this Trumble boy?"

"I am sure you would," Adon replied quietly to her assertion, nodding in understanding.  Unrequited, most certainly.  Poor kid; he was probably out of his depth with a girl from a household like this.  And a lovelorn boy desperate for hope would easily be taken in by any warmth, the proposal of a meeting, to even notice slight oddities, incongruities. 

To the aunt's mention of finishing, Adon also nodded, with a quick, "Of course."  This was certainly the sort of family to turn out debutante after debutante.  His eyebrows rose,  however, pleased at the mention of Auror training. It would be a good thing to apply herself towards.  To Ira, playing the flatterer--a role the woman no doubt encountered often enough, from her social prominence: "She is lucky to have the opportunity--and time together.  You are clearly very close."  He looked at the freckled face of the girl to see her thoughts on it.   However, the girl was still shutting the world out.  He felt bad, foisting it upon her, and he supposed he could leave it well enough alone, for now.  Truly, Adon expected that if the letters had not come from her, if she was just a friend who had not spoken to Trumble in over a month, it was likely someone else who had the information he wanted.

Someone in this house with direct access to the letters, which were sent to Raine, after all.  Who could intercept.  Someone willing to push herself into the affairs of her niece with definitive authority.

Which was why he was glad, of all things, that Raine Almasy had withdrawn and that it was Ira Almasy now addressing him.  If it was not her, if it was someone else in this household, some frequent visitor or relative, even, she would know of it.  Adon did not need to be particularly observant to see the ease with which she ran the household.  Raine had assumed he had come to conduct business with her.  It was Ira who had dismissed the children, who had obeyed with a regimented obedience betraying years of practice.  And yes--it was Ira Almasy addressing him now.  He would take advantage of that. 

He met her eyes wistfully, giving a light sigh.  "Unfortunately, we still need to figure that out.  He was reported missing by his sister--" there was a light pause as he confided, "when he did not report at the Ministry for his transformation."  He searched Ira Almasy's expression, curious to see the reaction there.  It was a known fact at Hogwarts that Trumble was a werewolf.  Still, high society would treat such a disclosure with polite surprise. Lycanthropy was discussed indirectly, as a 'condition' or 'ailment.'  With a lighter air, he added, "One thing is reassuring, though.  We have heard of no attacks from this full moon." 

Of course, this really meant that Zel Trumble had managed to be in a deserted area that night--away from potential victims--or was detained, or hidden away.  The case was much stronger for the latter options. From the profile Adon was drawing of him, he did not seem solitary or dissatisfied.  He was attempting to cultivate a relationship which was not consistent with a loner, desperate to break away from an unhappy family and life. 

His tone once more grew soft.  "Were you aware, were others aware,"--rather confident that at least the both of them did, or he would not have broached it in such a way, "that Zel Trumble suffers from lycanthropy?"

Dating Zel Trumble

Raine had shut down her response on instinct, trusting neither aunt nor auror with what she genuinely felt for the Hufflepuff. Whatever that was. It was a bizarre statement to make in the first place! Zel! Dear Zel, gentle Zel. Poor, poor Zel. She pressed her lips together as the adults conversed over her head, pretending to zone out for a moment.

She knew two things. Firstly - her friend had gone missing. Secondly - authorities had a legitimate reason to believe she was involved. Everything else was fluff and diplomacy. Raine did not grow up in an upperclass pureblood home, and had the advantage of discerning social etiquette shite from a mile off.

This wasn't her arena. Aunt Ira seemed almost bored with the report of Zel having not turned up at his cell, though Raine managed a faint smile upon hearing nobody had been attacked on the full moon. That they knew of.

"Were you aware, were others aware that Zel Trumble suffers from lycanthropy?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quietly recalled that the Almasy's in Russia had hunted Werewolves[1] not more than a generation ago - some secret plain only amongst family members. Raine was suddenly afraid of what Ira might say, her brow tensed with worry. This had nothing to do with them. The aurors would be wasting their bloody time if they kept at her.

"Of course -" she snapped at him quickly before her aunt could, and met Eleor in the eye. "- almost as much as he suffers any opinion of it."

Behind her, Ira shrugged lazily and echoed: "Da, a most unfortunate condition."

Raine crossed her legs, fiery eyebrows arched pointedly as she fixed their guest with a more direct attitude - almost angry at the dancing around these two supposed grown ups were doing.

"I haven't written since November. Aunt Ira and I have been at a guesthouse in Greece, where I communicated by owl from a local postal service rather than my own, who delivered to other persons..." she recounted the facts with incisive clarity. "You're implying that either I have lied about my correspondence or that a correspondence has been forged. Is there anything else you need to know?"

Ira Almasy's hands slid away from her niece's shoulders and the older witch walked around the table to assume a seat of her own as she contributed in an offhand manner. "My secretary will be more than happy to provide you with details of our stay in Greece, of course."

1.

ref.

The outburst of defensive anger hit a chord with Adon.  A sentimental one.  It was no secret that Adon valued above all things an iron-clad loyalty--which, of course, was best proven with vehement outbursts.  Raine was very fond of Zel.  There was no question.  To him, the expression on Raine Almasy's face was an echo of a young Raizel Cohen, daring an unkind classmate to asked one more question  about Adon Eleor's missing father.  That was no acting job.

It was a sore subject, and rightfully so.  Adon had no interest in being the aggressor to be fended off.  This next bit required none of the previous machinations, the game of cat-and-mouse he'd been trying to haphazardly execute.  His expression was sincere; remorseful and strained. He keenly knew how this moment felt for Raine Almasy.  The wound Adon had just opened up with all the bluntness of a law enforcement officer--the news of a missing loved one--would continue to bleed out until Raine had a moment to collect herself on her own, a moment to heal.  He wanted to let her do so perhaps almost as much as she wanted him gone.  Antagonizing himself to Raine was hardly going to get the aunt to open up any more about the household, either.   Although, Ira Almasy seemed willing enough to do that at the moment, with that offer for household information.  "I am sorry, Raine," he said to the young woman.  "I certainly did not mean to come across that way."

The words could have been said under veritaserum.   They were inferences he would have preferred only been kept to himself.  She was clever, but she was nothing to her aunt, who was digging herself in for a longer conversation, finally settling herself at the table with a regal poise.

Funny; Adon had been trying to think of ways to wind it down.

"If it's readily at hand, Miss Almasy," he said, eyes meeting the older woman's as he delivered a light shrug, "it might be helpful."  His eyes traced back more tentatively to Raine.

He ought next to ask who Zel's closest friends were.  On the off-chance Zel'd tumbled the details of his rendez-vous to anyone. "I do have a few questions about his friends at school--people who might know about his plans for the break--"

As if in answer to unbidden prayer, Adon felt a small, feline head but against his leg.  He did his best not to jump or draw away.  Adon was told by Dree that he should be charmed, but he knew what these creatures were about.  They were marking him.  Adon pushed down any feelings of initial revulsion, and, looking down into the face of the black cat, bit back a sigh of disappointment.  It was a black cat.  Not the fluffy white kitten he'd seen. Lumiere.  This was perhaps the other, Maurice, then.  "Well, hello... who have we here?" he asked, looking at Raine, then Ira, expectantly.  Adon's smile was lopsided. In addition to coming across as callous and accusatory before, he was most likely coming across as an inane small-talker, and quite possibly idiotic.  But it didn't matter what they thought of him. It mattered what he learned. "She? He's a pretty one." Adon's insides naturally recoiled at directing such affectionate language towards a class of creature so indifferent to human existence. Adon was perhaps equally ambivalent. Normally, he was nudging Dree's cats away from him, not bending over to deliver coos and scratches.  "You've got quite the full house," his tone was complimentary as he tilted his head towards the entryway, the last place he'd seen Raine's younger relatives.  "Do you have any inverse counterparts to keep this little guy company?"

Like, say, a white cat. Named Lumiere. His hand reached down below to absently stroke the black cat--who was eagerly purring and pressing against him in just about any way possible.  Adon's eyes shifted between the two women for an answer.

Raine relaxed her shoulders, mollified for the time being by Eleor's apology. He seemed genuine about it - the only genuine thing about him that she had sensed since he appeared at their doorstep as a harbinger of tragedy. Perhaps he really was only doing his job. Either way, she was ready to cooperate with further questions until Maurice wandered in.

"Well, hello... who have we here?"

The black cat purred affectionately. Traitor! Raine sighed, thawing at the sight and defeated by her familiar's loveable way with perfect strangers. It reminded her of how much Zel got along with him. Adon Eleor... did not strike her as a cat person. She knew cat people, on account of sometimes being a cat but mostly because he seemed to be paying more attention to Maurice than people typically did.

Like he was a conversation piece. What a peculiar man. Did he think she would hold it against him if he didn't like cats?

"Maurice," she watched her pet rubbing against their guest's leg,  before he hopped on to his lap to stared admiringly at the man's face. "Inverse counterparts?" Raine stared, nonplussed, and then looked at her Aunt to see if they had heard the same thing.


Ira's smile had disappeared - she fixed Eleor with a hardened, thoughtful stare. "No." Singular and unamused. She looked like she might have liked to get the wizard in a room by herself.


"Well, not exactly-" the younger Almasy amended and turned back to glance at Maurice. "- aunt Ira has two huskies, if that's what you mean? Siberian white. He's a street cat. He mingles with strays."

Raine frowned, annoyed by how side-tracked this had become and trying uselessly to guess at what Eleor was getting. "Zel liked Maurice. Animals in general. You should get in touch with his housemates. I don't... I don't believe I will be helpful, having been out of school all term."

There was a hard, flat "No." from Ira.

Adon's eyes flashed challengingly; he had to fight back a satisfied smirk.  There! She knew.  She knew about the photo, about the letters; hell, she probably even knew who was responsible for leading Zel into a compromising position.  If it wasn't she herself.

The exhilaration of a break in the case was fast ebbing to a cold-veined, stomach-tightening feeling of... what was it.  Dread.  The second realization to hit.

She knew.  And now she knew that he knew.  Knew without sufficient evidence to act right away, to isolate her, to bring things to his advantage.  She knew that, too.  And that look she gave was dangerous. 

Reaffixing his affable smile with redoubled determination, he nodded to the younger Almasy.  Raine was on-task; she had that prim, determined look and a subtle way of disciplining his errant behavior that reminded him of his mother.  He looked sufficiently chastened.  "Of course, of course.  I will be sure to do so." Figaro Sellaphix, he believed, was a close friend.  His favorite smaller-human. He would not have uttered the name aloud in front of Ira Almasy for the world.

Ira rose stiffly; Adon took the cue, rising as well, sending Maurice to the ground with an unhappy mmrowl of protest.  The group somberly filed their way to the door, where Adon gave them a last nod.  "My thanks for your time, ladies," he said demurely, not waiting until the door was closed before Apparating from the front step.