11pm, Saturday the 22nd of October
Outside the Stardust Theatre, London
Directly after Calamity's Child

A little hooded figure was the source of a mournful strain on strings, different chords slipping into each other roughly. A dissonant motif snuck its way in from time to time. If anyone cared to listen, it might be clear there was no chorus or verse, just a wandering lament.

"Oh, save it, Natalie! Don't be so dramatic," her teacher had once said in exasperation before sending her out of the room. She frowned deeply and deliberately scraped a string, her fury bolstered by the defiant dirty sound.

After being banished from Hooker's, she hadn't known where to go. She didn't want to go home, didn't want to sit in the buzzing light of an all-night diner. Even the top of the Tower Bridge wasn't enough for the depth of her disappointment. So she collected her violin and claimed a corner nearby the Stardust doors. Those vampires had laughed. You're not welcome, they'd said. Not realizing it was the reason, she wound up here, a place where the doors had been thrown open.

When a passerby tried to giver her a tip, she abruptly stopped playing long enough to kick her violin case shut on them. They moved along, and Nemo picked up her morose, public mourning again.

            "Virgil, there's a sad witch playing sad songs in the alley outside."

He was being measured for one of his Halloween costumes - Rumpelstiltskin - when one of the ushers popped her head into the costumes room to let him know about their melancholy busker. Virgil thanked their seamstress and slipped on his cardigan, joining the usher with a dry little smile.

"I got it." Like many of the people working at Stardust, the ushers had grown accustomed to him simply knowing what they were going on about even when they weren't being precise. If they had suspicions about him gleaning thoughts and images from their minds, it had never come up up whilst he was in there. Generally speaking, some measure of otherworldly behaviour was expected from any child of Edgar's.

The theatre was mostly empty, a few odd stragglers left behind from the night's performance. His father was hosting drinks with the cast onstage and the crew were headed home.

Virgil slipped out through the main door, into the cool shadow of the alley and the spell cast by an unhappy violin. He smiled to himself, nodding at Nemo as he approached.

"Is that one of yours?" he eyed the violin, meaning the song she was playing. "Or is that somebody else's lament you're torturing our ears with?"

Virgil appeared as though summoned by her sulking sonata, smooth and blithe as usual. She'd hoped that would happen; he was becoming a reliable figure in Camden Town and took her seriously, as a witch and an artist.

It was hard to speak with a violin tucked under her chin, and she wanted to finish the phrase. Nemo glanced over to him from under heavy bangs, then back to a distant oblivion. She ambled through the last remaining draws, the final one unceremoniously dropped as she let down the violin.

"Mine," she said and fell backwards a few inches against the wall. She'd never be able to play it again, but it wasn't that kind of song. "Just made it up."

"So what, are you here to kick me out?" she asked with a blank affect. She didn't actually think this was true; she had just been ruminating on the feeling of being laughed at and booted out of Hooker's. Nemo'd never admit it now, but it was even worse because the whole vampire thing was entrancing.

Was she being sulky? That was his modus operandi!

Virgil was relieved when her sad tune came to an end - it wasn't objectively bad but he didn't like the idea of a sad Nemo. She had seemed scrappy and spirited when they had first toured the theatre, ready to take on the world with her music. In some ways she was still ready, even if only to haunt this alley.

             "So what, are you here to kick me out?"

"No, was just going to ask you in for coffee." Virgil smiled before glancing past her at the busier streets of Covent Garden. "Or we can grab one elsewhere. Why the melancholy music? Bad night?"

He had already clocked the fact that she wasn't playing for coin.

Nemo was temporarily, marginally cheered and she was unsuccessful hiding a half smile. She was in sad_mode and committed to it, but coffee? God, how was he so nice? He seemed to know exactly what she needed to cheer up, even though she hadn't told him anything.

She sighed heavily and pushed herself up from the wall, her movement hopefully enough to signal her interest in his offer. Nemo slipped her well-used instrument back into its case as she replied.

"Uh, yeah. It was a coin toss between getting laughed out of a vampire bar or having all the blood sucked out of me." She stood up and shrugged disdainfully. "You can guess where things landed."

Nemo hadn't made an indication about where she'd prefer they get a cup, but she started moving back towards where Virgil had come.

"I was nice and I had money so I don't know what crawled up their undead asses."

Coffee, at near-midnight, was apparently what would do the trick.

He fell into line with her as she made for Stardust. With his father in the theatre, they could probably monopolise the theatre bar, where audience members mingled before opening or during intermission. All thoughts of practical matters flew out of his head the moment Nemo mentioned vampires, however.

"Backtrack a moment," Virgil laughed in surprise and pushed open the door to let them in. "Vampire bar? What were you doing in a vampire bar if not - your words by the way - to have blood sucked out of you?"

Inside, anyone who saw him with his new friend simply nodded hello while they ducked through the starry foyer and towards an archway leading to the bar.

"Vampires have different social rules, I'm told. We had one[1] come speak at Hogwarts once," he explained with a shiver and shrug. "And she was one of the nicer ones."

A part of him remembered asking Cepheus about what it was like to sleep with vampires, but Virgil decided not to volunteer his memory of that conversation.

The theatre bar was a circular room with plush navy carpeting and a high ceiling that exhibited the night sky in miniature. Drinks were served at a round counter in the centre, where two or three wixes still lingered, chatting to the redheaded barwitch. Someone was playing the Peter Pan theme on cello.

1.	Violet Islington

The Stardust's bar, like everything else about the place, was celestial and warm. It had a much more accepting, artful air than the dim and foreboding Camden Town Hookers. Nemo couldn't decide if she continued to feel daring about everyone being astonished at this month's dark errands, or worried. Her mate had been hesitant to send her to the werewolf called Lexus. Lexus had balked at her inquiry about unicorn blood. Her contact warned her against the vampires, and they had rebuffed her hardest of all. And now Virgil had perked up?

But unlike the others, Virgil laughed. Another reluctant grin from Nemo. Alright then, she'd tell him.

"I was trying to buy something apparently, um, less than legal," she said as they approached the glowing bartop. "And I heard they were the only ones who might have it."

She didn't want to say what, not until she was sure no one else could hear. Because everyone, including the vampires, kept freaking out about it.

"I got to talking with two of them -- just coffee, cream and sugar, lots of it ---" she interrupted herself to place her order.  "And they wouldn't even admit they had any. And," she began to whisper. "One of them had a Ministry badge and threatened to turn me in. Like, what the hell?"

'Different social rules,' her ass, though. Social rules were what you say when someone sneezes, or tipping hair stylists, not licking lips and attempting to drink your blood.

"I mean, first of all - !" She flipped her hand in the air in annoyed flabbergastery.

He was duly caught between feelings of jealousy, awe and skepticism.

The bartender went about making their drinks - already aware of Virgil's usual drink - while they continued to talk at the counter. Nemo had spoken with not one but TWO vampires at a proper vampire bar. That was.... brave? Reckless? He wasn't sure but he admired her for trying, whichever it was.

"Turn you in? That must be Vaillancourt." Virgil mused out loud as he thought about the fanged man who worked nights on level four. "Not a lot of vamps in the Ministry," he added as two navy coffee cups arrived with tiny silver spoons resting on matching saucers alongside a slice of their Biscotti of the Month.

A quick glance into his young companion's head told him that she didn't think much of the social difference between wixes and oher Beings, so he knew to tread lightly. What was she going to buy from them??

"So where did the awful blood sucking come in?" he glanced up as he sipped his black coffee, savouring the bit of honey in it. "Did they try to jump you?"

Nemo's eyes grew wide - Virgil knew the Ministry vampire. Did Virgil know his best mate Vaillancourt was an asshole? It would be awhile before she was no longer sore about that vampire flashing his badge at her. She was almost more offended than when the other one (Terry, she reminded herself) asked for her wrist. Priorities, apparently.

Not wanting to be overheard on this topic, Nemo led the way to a small table and set down her violin case at her feet. She sipped at the creamy shooting star design spooned into the cream. She'd made the bloodsucking way more dramatic than it actually was.

She sighed. "No. They were just having drinks. There was your friend, French young fancy white guy with cheekbones for days, and the other guy was older and black and had just, like, eyes." She sat back and tried to flash the dead-eye mysterious gaze she could.

"He seemed like he was in charge. I was trying to negotiate for the stuff, and then that older vampire - Terry - just asks me for my wrist totally out of the blue. No, right? I wouldn't and then they kicked me out. Aw shit!"

Nemo started patting herself down, looking into her pockets, digging in her bag. "Shit shit shit. I forgot my cigarettes. I left my case."

She abandoned her search, then set her jaw and just shook her head at Virgil, apparently resigned to having had the worst night.

He wanted to take this very seriously, he did, but Nemo's descriptions were making it hard.

Virgil laughed as he tried to picture Vaillancourt sat down with a vampire who was apparently all eyes (and probably fangs). They sounded fantastic. Like they had stories to last days. Although this one story of Nemo's was already enough fodder to keep him entertained for a long while.

"Not my friend, I've only seen him around!" he interjected defensively, wondering if he should ask Cepheus about the frenchman. "It seems like they did you a favour by kicking you out. What did you go looking for that even vampires aren't willing to part with?"

The only thing that fanged lot seemed to need was blood and... Nemo was rather human, she already had plenty of blood. This vampire bar intrigued him.

"I could go fetch your case back." Virgil offered before he could stop himself. "If you'd like. I'm sure they won't ask for my blood right away..." he cocked a pale eyebrow, stirring his coffee idly.

He'd asked her what she was looking for, and she unconsciously covered her mouth for a moment. Instead, she shrugged and rolled her eyes, trying to pass it off as unimportant.

"What? You want to go in there?" Virgil had seemed more interested in her dark errand than anyone else so far, but she hadn't realized that he was actually into it. For a moment, Nemo was suddenly protective of her quest. "I dunno, Virg."

She stirred her coffee. Now that he'd offered to go get her case, she was thinking she wanted some kind of redemption. Vindication? Being kicked out had been a blow to her pride, and she was now feeling a need to repair it. Spooked, entranced, prideful... it was a recipe for continued restlessness. And she still didn't have something for Draco and she was running out of time.

"Lemme think about it."

She didn't want to disappoint him, though, and he'd been nice.

"You asked what I was trying to get? I'll tell you if you really want to know." Then she got a look on her face like she smelled something bad.

"Oh wait. You work the Ministry." Vaillencourt seemed like he felt obligated to tell on her - she had to assume Virgil would be, too. She shook her head.

It was easier to pinpoint, by her reaction, exactly what it was that bothered her about the vampire bar.

They had offended her pride. In all fairness, they probably offended a lot of people in that way, but Virgil doubted there were many Nemos popping into their coven and asking for strange things. He smiled when she told him that she'd think about it - that meant it was still unfinished business. Perhaps he should ask Ceph to tell the consultant to look out for her.

            "Oh wait. You work the Ministry."

"That didn't stop you from sharing a joint with me," he pointed out as he drank more of his coffee and felt the tiredness behind his eyes begin to dissipate. "I don't snitch. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, why should I?" Virgil shrugged indifferently.

Nemo probably wasn't a villainess in disguise. She was definitely trouble... short trouble in a witch's hat. But so far nothing bad had come of it. Either the vampires underestimated her based on appearance or she was genuinely not too dangerous. "Thespian's honour," he added and raised his hand in mock solemnity.

Nemo cracked a smile. What happens backstage, stays backstage, or something? She hadn't known Virgil for very long, and while she didn't think he was lying, the Ministry of Magic was powerful. What if they read his mind? Some people could do that. She thought for another moment, her half cup of coffee very well stirred at this point.

She let the spoon drop against the side of the cup. Virgil was so curious and her story really was good. She wouldn't admit it, but she liked impressing him. Finally, she leaned forward on her folded arms. After checking over her shoulder, she whispered.

"Gillyweed ain't the same as unicorn blood, dude."

Nemo waited for the reaction. Best case scenario? He'd be impressed and know where to get some. Worst case scenario, he'd freak out and go back on his oath. Another calculated risk.

Unicorn blood.

That... came out of the blue. He stared at her for a moment, as if though expecting her to say something else, and then he put down his coffee cup with a gentle clink. Virgil had seen unicorn blood, vials and bottles of the silvery ichor, lining some of the more esoteric shelves on level nine. Merlin knew what grim potions they might be used to brew.

"Why would you want that?" he frowned slightly, more in confusion than disapprobation. "I didn't know vampires traded in unicorn blood. I suppose they aren't restricted to just ours."

Several other questions entered his head just then, all about vampires and unicorns, but he decided to save them for when he was back at work in the weekday.

"It's a Ministry controlled substance, I think because they don't actually kill the unicorns to get the blood." Virgil glanced into his drink pensively. "But who knows how illegal blood is gotten," he wondered if the vampires murdered the unicorns themselves.

Goddamn it, Virgil. Why was everyone asking her that? She must be missing something and no one had volunteered that information. Nemo sat back, looked down, and shook her head.

"Dude, I don't know," she huffed.

Then he began to explain his reaction. The distinction between 'controlled' and 'illegal' sources. Dead unicorns. Not dead unicorns. How you couldn't be sure which if it wasn't sourced legally. Nemo finally had an inkling of what all this fuss was. Why the vampires, in particular, didn't want to share their secret stash. Vampires weren't popular with the Ministry of Magic, were they? Probably they didn't want that kind of heat.

"What do other people use it for? Vaillancourt asked me if I was dying."

At least Virgil wasn't freaking out. Out of everyone trying to warn her off, turned out Virgil's was the only hesitation that was starting to slow her down.