Afternoon


He arrived late in the day and accompanied by a Hogwarts house elf, long after lessons but before what Layton remembered to be the dinner hour. There had been correspondence to precede his arrival: he was visiting the school on behalf of Ira Almasy, who was unfit to attend herself and speak to her niece. The matter had been phrased as urgent - as one of life and death - and indeed, it was. Most matters of his mistress could be considered to fall into that category.

            "Layton!"

Raine had many more freckles than when he had last seen her[1] and it allowed her a greater impression of youth. She was a sweet thing, in her oversized sweater and little cat shoes, running down the steps of the entrance hall to greet him with a hand held out. 

He met her at the foot of the stairs and accepted the hand, raising it so that she could perform a little twirl with flourish. "Raine, charming as ever." Layton's voice carried a smile. "You look healthy." The Gryffindor lifted her chin to proudly accept the compliment, and then gave him an appraising look. By now, the house elf disappeared from sight.

Layton was no fool. He was carefully monitoring her thoughts throughout their friendly greetings - her anxious, worried thoughts skittering about her mind looking for something to latch on to but not lingering on any one specific worry.

            "You look... different." Raine remarked. In her head, she commented: younger.

The wizard smiled. Yes, he was dressed differently today;  his clothes were usually chosen to be innocuous. Today they aimed to be approachable, confident. As far as Raine was concerned he had no ill feelings towards her.

"Thank you. I don't have much time," he glanced at his wristwatch distractedly, "and I have a message to relay from your aunt. In private."

Hesitation flickered across her face, just then, and Layton knew right away that privacy was not a luxury he would have with her today. The chances had been low anyway. Pity. She was easier to deal with by her lonesome.


---

They didn't discuss anything of significance as Raine led him up to the first floor where he would have the pleasure of meeting her Defences professor. Ignan Storm - a name that even Ira did not think it wise to meddle with, outside of that delicious dinner party in March. Layton was not one to be intimidated; and as his intentions were fairly peaceful, he didn't anticipate conflict.

          "Do you miss it?" Raine laid her hand on the classroom door handle, glancing at him as she pushed. "Hogwarts?"

"Oh, sometimes." Layton replied before following her in. "Only a mad man wouldn't."

1.	Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will be Done - 17th February

Wednesday afternoon finished early with the second years, and Professor Storm sat in a slant of sunlight, marking their work in silent contemplation. Occasionally, he would glance up to the time, aware of an impending appointment, and consider matters ahead, looking to his open office door. It was rare to prop it open, but the temperatures were rising in the castle as May approached, and examinations loomed. The classroom below was ever more occupied for additional lessons, tutorials and as a practice space. Not this afternoon at least, not until Almasy and her guest were gone.

“… only a mad man wouldn’t.” The unfamiliar voice and footsteps put an end to the marking, and Professor Storm set aside his quill, getting to his feet to approach his office door. Below, in the classroom, Raine Almasy was not dressed in uniform despite it being within the hours of lessons. The Deputy Headmaster chose not to comment on this observation, his gaze examining the visitor with what initially appeared to be distrust, but was rather more the older wizard’s resting expression.

He cleared his throat politely to alert them to his presence at the top of the steps to his office above them. He nodded to Raine.
“Almasy,” the Professor uttered, and then nodded more abruptly to the other man, “Mr Layton I presume.” They were too far apart to shake hands, but he extended an arm through his office door in invitation to them both, allowing Raine to lead before shaking hands formally with the shorter man, his gaze barely leaving Layton. Neatly, but less formally dressed, younger, appearing familiar in relationship to Raine, a little hurry to his pace, but given the way the meeting was called, not a surprise.

She had missed Layton - or not so much Layton but the good memories associated with him. Before that night in February, before the truth got in the way of what had been a mostly untroubled personal life. Raine had always admired her aunt but she had only sometimes felt warm feelings towards the older Almasy; it had been Layton whom she looked forward to seeing as a child.

Layton with his odd sense of humour, with his peppery colognes and quiet understanding. Not to mention he had let her leave Ira's mansion, unscathed. That had to mean something didn't it? Surely... surely he couldn't be all that bad.

That was what she hoped, at any rate, as she let them into the Defences classroom. "Professor," Raine responded primly when he appeared at the doorway to his office. Even if her worst fears were true she felt reassured knowing that Storm was here. The two wizards reminded her of one another.

They both gave the impression of a dangerous animal that meant you no harm. Raine glanced over her shoulder, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Storm's desk.

            "Mr Layton I presume."
"Just Layton, please."

He was too calm for Layton's liking, this man.

Not only an outer calmness - an easy thing to master - but a sense of it. No rolling thoughts or giveaway mannerisms or obvious signs of distraction. Ignan Storm was very unlike that other Storm that Layton knew. Having shook hands, he followed Raine to the desk and took the chair next to her; but he let his mind wander in the other direction.

Curious, gentle tendrils probing at Ignan's head to see what the older man might be thinking of this strange appointment.

"I'm sure Raine has spoken to you about my purpose here?" Layton asked in the meantime, reaching out to place a hand on the back of her neck; not quite her neck, but where it met the slope of her spine. "Her aunt is very ill, at this moment. I come on her behalf."

As Raine and just Layton took their seats at one side of his desk, the Deputy Headmaster flicked wand to the classroom door and then pulled to the office door behind them, ensuring no interruptions.

A presence, not unlike someone stood too close to him, caused the Professor to turn back abruptly in the direction of the other two. They were both seated, so he dismissed the notion initially and reclaimed his chair.

“My sympathies.” Ignan replied to the reiteration from Layton that Ira Almasy was very ill. “You have news from St Mungo’s?” His gaze did not leave Layton, but kept Raine in his periphery. The young woman did not seem concerned for her aunt’s health - only pleased to see Layton. Given what Ignan knew of Ira through her niece, either she did not worry Layton would suspect a thing or something else was between them.

Did he...?

Layton withdrew his attempt to prod at Ignan's mind, slightly, still hovering around the possibility of it. The older man had sensed something. He was, then, skilled in Legilemency - to what extent it was impossible to ascertain from this glancing incident. He couldn't let it show, regardless. There was the message to be delivered.

            "You have news from St Mungo’s?"

"No," his hand pressed down against the back of Raine's neck, a reassuring squeeze. "Ira retains the services of a personal healer. It's more appropriate in her line of work, you understand." Layton let go of the witch and clasped his hands together instead, fingers interlaced.

He could feel Raine's gaze, lively and attentive. It was a shame he would have to ruin the trust she had in him. "I'm going to risk assuming that you've been informed about other things pertaining to my employer." Layton paused to glance at Ira's niece, noting the subtle shift in her features.

A tension in her brow.

"But that isn't relevant today. You see, Raine... Reinka -" he met her in the eye now, "- there's a very good chance you might never see her again. She's asked me to implore for you to write to her, as soon as possible. It might be a matter of days."

The tension drew taut, a worried furrow now. Layton blinked - slipped for a moment into her mind, where he confirmed that she had previously been skeptical of Ira's illness. Had expected this to be something different; a threat, perhaps, veiled in the form of an unassuming visit.

It was obvious she hadn't understood how involved he was in her aunt's work.

            "What does she want from me?" Raine's voice was softer, like she was speaking with less air in her lungs than before.

"To make amends," Layton replied simply and then looked to Ignan with a calm smile - he drew away from the girl's mind, drifting back to Storm's. "Regardless of what has been done, the bonds of family must never be broken. Don't you agree?"

“It’s more appropriate in her line of work, you understand.” If ever a statement was open to new interpretation.

Ignan tried his utmost to keep his face straight at Layton’s mention of assumptions, but his gaze did switch to Raine for a split second before returning solidly to their visitor. He had considered in the time between notification and arrival, that this illness might also be a manipulative game. He was not unfamiliar with the concept, both in his kin but also in other families here at Hogwarts and before at Durmstrang. Sick mothers, not to cause a fuss, slates begged to be wiped clean for convenience.

He wasn’t an Almasy, he could only judge impartially as he could from the other side of the desk. Raine was an adult, independent, and he could only advise her if she entertained it. To request the meeting in Ignan’s presence suggested she wanted his opinion too.

“Regardless of what has been done, the bonds of family must never be broken. Don’t you agree?”

There it was again. A definite presence.

If it was pointed to him so brazenly here, it had countless times been pointed at Raine - used against her. Two could play at such games, though he was not here to play, but to referee at best.

So you don’t deny it?

The Deputy Headmaster’s lips didn’t move, but he lifted his chin a little, as if considering the measure of Jebediah Layton.

“Debts forgiven in death,” he murmured instead. One was to forgive others, not because they deserved it, but because the giver deserved peace. But there would always be unforgiveable deeds. Had she not revealed them to Raine in any sense, forgiveness would come far more easily - a little knowledge was dangerous, especially in the hands of intelligent Raine Almasy.

“What is Madam Almasy’s condition?” The Professor asked, stalling for Raine, “How has it come about - for she was well enough when Raine returned to Hogwarts in February.”

            So you don’t deny it?

Ah, there he was. Layton's poking and prodding had derived a definite reaction - he kept his expression smooth while the conversation on the surface continued. His 'niece' had fallen silent, that hard and unreadable look in her eyes that reminded him of Ira at her fiercest. He didn't risk a glance into her head now, not with another confirmed Leglimens in the room.

To open one door might mean forgetting to guard another.

"Her illness is one she has lived with for many months now. As far back as offering to train Raine out of school. My employer always has an eye on the future," Layton answered with a shrug, "But recent strains have... exacerbated the toll. Her health deteriorates with each passing day."

You will recollect, he hummed into Ignan Storm's mind, The dinner party in March.

It would be a lie to say that the blood feud between Zamperia and Ira had not played a part in all this, even though it was an expected part. Layton wished to see his mistress reconciled with Raine - he knew how much it mattered to them, these people whose families are of some value.

His own feelings about family were trivial, at best.

"I can't make you do anything of course," he looked at Raine with a softer smile, "I can only carry the message." And hold out that nobody cursed the messenger.
 

"Alright," Raine finally spoke after a moment's pause. "I'll think about it. I promise to think about it."

Her heart was trapped wildly in her ribcage, she could feel it hammering like it wanted out. This wasn't... this wasn't the Layton she grew up with. Parts of him were. The smiles, the appraising eye. Not so much that odd tone of condescension. There had to be some genuine feeling behind those nicer parts: she had to believe there was, or it would be too horrible to bear thinking about at this very instant. She had to believe it wasn't all just a game to Ira and him. He came all the way here, didn't he? It wasn't just to see what this pawn was still doing in their round of chess?

Not for the first time today, she felt like there was a layer of meaning going right over her head. One she would not grasp until much later.

She stood, abrupt, realising her limits. For a second the Gryffindor thought about leaving the room. A dramatic and urgent gesture before she let herself feel anything.

"Will that be all?" Raine heard herself say instead, in a contained voice.

Layton mirrored her movement - ever the gentleman - rising to his feet, nimbler than she remembered. "For now," he said before taking her hand. He bowed his head to kiss the back of her freckled knuckles. Raine glanced up at Professor Storm at the same time. Her hard countenance crumbled briefly, distress lying beneath, and she pulled it together in time to snatch her hand back.

Above the surface of the water in the (anything but cosy) office, all appeared composed between the two wizards. It was the young red-head who showed the most genuine emotion to the news. Her abrupt ejection from one of the chairs before the Deputy Headmaster’s desk was a little unexpected to the white-haired wizard, though not altogether out of character on reflection.

“Will that be all?”

The Professor afforded a careful, verging on genuinely caring look to Raine. He had not got up, contemplating. When it was clear she did mean to end their meeting, he too got to his feet, though spoke nothing as the other two went through the act of being polite.

“You will keep in touch Mr Layton,” he spoke at last, less a request, more an instruction. He had not responded to the mental reference to the dinner party, deciding he had given away enough with the single exchange to confirm Ira Almasy’s assistant’s suspicion, warn him off in the first instance. He gestured for the door, the latch clicking open under subtle wandless magic. Parlour trick, but the merest of suggestions too.

“May I see you to the floo, we have a connection in the staff room,” the Professor offered to Layton, and then in a more conversational tone, glancing to Raine, “Almasy, I have your essay still, if you would prefer to discuss it this afternoon.” There was no essay, but the straight manner in which the offer was delivered would hopefully be understood. After all, Ignan Storm did not willingly offer shoulders to cry on, but targets to implode, certainly.

He could see there would be no other reaction to extract from the young Almasy - she had the closed off expression of someone who had much to mull over and not enough patience to delay it. Layton grimaced as she drew her hand away, and he felt something akin to disappointment. This would likely be the last time he saw her under circumstances that did not put them across the law from one another.

It would have been nice to have one last, pleasant memory.

            "You will keep in touch Mr Layton," Storm did not seem inclined to any lingering either. Layton looked away from Raine and nodded at this. Yes. He will, insofar as was possible.

He left the office with a final glance at Ira's niece, already recognising the angry set of her jawline. The temper was very much familial. Layton allowed for the Defences professor to escort him to the floo but waited until they were in the corridor outside of the classroom before he spoke.

"We truly don't mean her any harm," he clarified in a pleasant voice - as if he were reassuring someone that he'd return a book or pick up a bill, "Does she know, by the way?" Layton had wondered if Raine was aware her professor could read minds; if she did, she had never indicated in thought. "Or is that a fair bit of luck on her part?"

Professor Storm took care to keep his expression neutral as he departed from his office with Mr Layton. His gut feeling suggested this approach could be mutual.

“Does she know, by the way? Or is that a fair bit of luck on her part?”

The Deputy Headmaster blinked and looked down to the visitor with a sharp expression. Layton was suggesting that Ignan read the minds of students without their knowledge, including Raine’s. 
“It is not secret, in that I teach the basic skills to those capable. My students understand protocol with their skills.”

They approached the top of the stairs, “I am to assume she was entirely unaware of your observations?” With the implication that Raine was more than capable of identifying mental intrusion given her abilities and age.

Layton nodded thoughtfully at the older man's response - so he was teaching this ability here. How many, he wondered, who walked down these corridors with locked heads? If he were not in so close proximity (and observation) of another Leglimens, he would have been tempted to seek those minds. It was difficult for Layton to remember how he had been like in his own youth and so he had a natural curiosity about the inhabitants of Hogwarts.

            "I am to assume she was entirely unaware of your observations?"

The query interrupted his thoughts, rightfully so. "Yes," he answered tersely and then forced that tension away to adopt his friendlier facade, "But I don't look around willy nilly, of course. Ira wouldn't have it. Loves that girl, different as they are."

Not that he knew why. Layton was fond of Raine but he could never understand what his mistress wanted from the child. An heir? A murderess to follow in her footsteps? Company, affection? They reached the door to the staff room, where he paused and considered Storm.

"Thank you for..." Layton trailed off, glancing back the way they had come, "... for minding this meeting. I realise that I don't really have a right to be here. Wish her luck for me, won't you?"

“… don’t look around willy nilly, of course,”

That was too much of an empty declaration for Ignan. There was the full implication that given any half-decent excuse Layton had invaded. Ignan’s stare dropped ten degrees in temperature. He had done the same in his past life, but never at Hogwarts. Well, never to a Hogwarts resident. He’d ensured his cousin imbibed and invaded once and still regretted it.

“Wish her luck for me, won’t you?”

Ignan gave a single nod of acknowledgement, but added,
“Do you imply she needs any?” There was just enough of a protective threat in his tone before the staff room door clicked open. Ignan gestured for the visitor to enter first, not taking his eyes off Layton. The longer he spent in the man’s company the worse he felt about him. The fact Raine appeared fond of him in the past was worrying, but the signs were that this had changed, if only it were not too late.

“Thank you for making the trip to-,” deliver emotional blackmail? Antagonise? Gloat in someone’s impending grief? Monopolise on a chance to revisit Hogwarts? “-deliver the news in person,” the Professor added politely, navigating the clusters of mismatched armchairs in the cosy staff room. The fire up ahead was just embers in the grate, the castle never quite warming up even in the milder months. He reached up to a sturdy pot on the mantle and lifted the lid to offer the floo powder to Layton. “Safe journey.”

Layton received the not incorrect impression that the older wizard did not particularly approve of his attitude towards Legilimency. That was reassuring for the sake of those at Hogwarts and at least indicated that he had never trod ground in Raine's mind - a strange landscape, equal parts soft and ruthless.

            "Do you imply she needs any?" Storm opened the staff room door.

Ah. What a very interesting character to keep at Hogwarts; an impediment, certainly, to those who were interested in causing mischief here. The school was full of such impediments (which was what made it so attractive a target). Layton did not answer but obediently allowed himself to be led towards the fireplace. He reached into the pot, grabbing a handful of powder that felt cool to the touch.

"Thanks," Layton murmured and glanced at Ignan one final time to impart a message between minds.


Neither gratitude nor threat. The powder was thrown, flames blazing their unnatural colours. He spoke the name of the Leaky Cauldron and was gone from Hogwarts for the second time in his life.