Lunch hour at 107B Diagon Alley


Virgil had just finished tossing together a beetroot plum salad when a knock came at the door. He was home for an extended lunch from level nine, where he was due to work well into the night shift later this evening. His attire was formal, on account of the day's work, but he'd slipped on a pair of leather mules in which to lounge about while entertaining Sasha. The wizard gestured with his wand so that the salad rested in its wooden bowl, glistening with its olive oil dressing of honey and fennel seed.

"Hello," he opened the door, smiling wanly at the other blonde. "Punctual to a fault. Come in, we can eat in the kitchen, or my room if you'd rather. Don't think Nick or Ari are going to drop by."

Not that he minded if they did, but Virgil felt that Sasha wasn't quite as open around those two. And when Sasha wasn't open, he was dull. The ultimate sin. Virgil returned to the kitchen, chatting all the while. He had owl'd Sasha to arrange for lunch because he wanted to know how things had went with Yavin.

It really would be nice to have more friends on nine. "Do you eat cheese? I've got the dolcelatte separate, just in case, but we could go without." Virgil glanced dubiously at a bowl of the blue cheese, chopped into chunks and covered in poppy seeds. They could be saved for later.

"This stuff always makes me sneeze," he admitted, his nose slightly wrinkled, as he tried to brush as much of the lingering floo powder from his shoulders as Virgil opened the door.  One day, maybe, he'd actually finally learn how to apparate; it would cut back on the questions about soot on his clothes from classmates.  It was a thought that seemed to cross his mind every time he dusted himself off but, between the floo network, knight bus, muggle transportation and his own vehicles, there were always more than enough alternatives.  After all, it had taken him less than five minutes to drive from class to his flat and then floo from his study to any number of the public fireplaces in Diagon Alley. 

He laughed, slightly, at the punctual to a fault comment.  "I am German.  If you were expecting fashionably late, you clearly don't know a lot of Germans.  If you want us here five minutes late, you tell us to be here five minutes late."  After wiping his feet one last time to try to get rid of as much fireplace leftovers as possible, he stepped inside the apartment and set his book bag down by the door. 

"Kitchen will be fine," he confirmed as he followed Virgil into the small kitchen, glancing around at the already prepared food.  "You know you really didn't have to cook," he offered.  "I would have been happy to pick something up."  Because, Merlin knew, Sasha was more likely to write a sonata masterpiece than actually produce anything edible in a kitchen.  If it weren't for carry out, frozen foods, house elves or meal shakes, he'd likely end up starving. 

He followed Virgil's gaze to the bowl of cheese and offered a slight grin as he nodded.  "I don't eat meat but I do eat cheese.  It's one of my weaknesses.  My family actually used to keep dairy cattle back home and I've been considering picking that back up."  Because what he needed was something else to do. 

            "If you were expecting fashionably late, you clearly don't know a lot of Germans."

He smiled to himself and bit his tongue, resisting the temptation to tell Sasha that he knew at least one German with great physical intimacy. Anton was punctual too, in a different way. Virgil flicked his wand to send their empty dishes to the small dining table by the kitchen - these were followed by the big bowl of salad, and smaller bowls of cheese and rocket leaves to add to taste.

"You do seem like the cheese board type," he remarked with a nod at the table, "have a seat. I have some chilled barley water that should go with our meal."

Virgil brought out a big jug of the cloudy drink and a couple of clean glass before joining his guest at the table. There was an easy complacency to his mannerisms, a kind of satisfaction. Which was to say, he was in a good mood. A November rarity. As they settled, Dante made an appearance; her white tail in the air and her mismatched eyes curiously watching them.

"Sasha, Dante. Dante, Sasha." Virgil arched a pale eyebrow at the meaning cat before filling their glasses. "I prefer cooking to taking out," he continued after introductions, "so don't worry about it. Help yourself."

He began arranging abed of rocket leaves on his plate. "How was your meeting with Yav? He said you seemed pretty keen," Virgil glanced up with a dry smile, "which is more than I can say about the trainees who walked out on his first day."

Following in the flying dishes wake, Sasha crossed to the small dining table and took a seat, chuckling slightly at Virgil's comment.  "I didn't know there was a cheese board type," he admitted, picking up his napkin and carefully folding it in his lap as the other joined him at the table. 

"Though, the stinkier, the better, for sure."  Man.  Was there really anything better in the world than a good crusty loaf of bread and a ripe brie?  No.  The answer was no.  "And, if you say don't worry, then I won't.  I actually don't remember the last time I had a proper home-cooked meal.  It's a nice change." 

Sasha welcomed the momentary distraction Dante's entrance as he considered the question that he'd already assumed was the basis for the invitation.  Curiosity on the other's part was to be expected though Sasha couldn't help but wonder how much Virgil had already heard for Morgenthau.  And, was Virgil asking purely out of his own curiosity or was he asking as much for Morgenthau as for himself?

He could hear the depth of paranoia in his own thoughts.  He really hoped he could find some concrete reason to dismiss the paranoia as unnecessary. 

"I was ... I am very keen, though I didn't-"  His brow furrowed as he put a small amount of salad on his plate and sprinkled some of the cheese on top.  "Should I just start assuming that anything I tell you will get back to him and adjust my answers accordingly?"  He tried to keep his tone completely casual and conversational but a touch of accusation might have sneaked through.  "Given I have no idea what you've told him so far, I feel like that's the safest assumption."

He continued arranging his salad, fussily tossing the cheese among the leaves so that the dressing would catch. Virgil was actually pleased with the salad - he was glad for the opportunity to make an unusual one, and hoped that Nick or Ari would like it as a part of their dinner later.

            "Should I just start assuming that anything I tell you..."

Oh. Virgil glanced up, not surprised by the question but by its timing. He'd expected Sasha to ask something similar after he began work on level nine, where Yavin's bias would be much more pronounced. Some of the other trainees called him teacher's pet or similar. There was no point in hiding it anyway, on a floor of secrets.

"I don't really volunteer information to Yavin unless he asks," the wizard shrugged and reached for his drink, "and I wouldn't say anything if you told me not to. But I gave him profile summaries[1] when he first took over level nine, with odd updates. And he has his own sources."

It had been done between their minds, where he could easily project somebody's image whilst relaying data. He had enjoyed that, playing the spy, though he was hardly the most unassuming one.

"You can censor yourself if you like." Virgil sipped at barley water and met Sasha in the eye over the rim of the glass, "I won't peek, thespian's honour. Did he say something strange? I mean," he laughed lightly, face lighting up a little, "stranger than usual? Awfully hard to tell, with Yav."

1.	The Walls are Paper Thin - 22nd August

Following Virgil's lead, Sasha lay several of the rocket leaves on his plate before following it with a small amount of salad.  Scattering a few chunks of cheese with poppy seeds over the salad bought him a few moments to consider his options, but forwent the dressing and speared a few leaves of the undressed salad. 

He'd been able to deduce from the meeting that Virgil worked closely with Morgenthau but that didn't bother him.  He wasn't concerned about any perceived, or actual, favoritism.  In fact, the one big consolation Sasha had after the interview was that Morgenthau sounded as eager to pawn him off on other people as Sasha hoped he'd work as little directly under the man as possible.  What concerned him was the apparent lack of control over the flow of and accuracy of information about him being passed along to the man. 

Especially if Morgenthau was willing to act on information from these other sources.  Especially if that had been happening before Sasha had even considered any interest in Level 9. 

"He asked for profiles and updates?  Of your former classmates?"  Sasha asked, glancing up to look across the table at Virgil.  "That didn't seem ... peculiar to you?  For what purpose?"  Despite Virgil's bright and light-hearted expression, Sasha's own features remained creased and tight with doubt and concern. 
 
Sasha took a mouthful of salad and chewed it slowly, again considering his options.  "I'm sorry.  But, I need to know.  What did you tell him about me?" he asked, setting his fork down on the edge of his plate.  "I've been at the receiving end of too many people who got misinformation from another source.  And, we weren't exactly friends when we were at Hogwarts; we hardly knew each other." 

It was easy to understand the other wizard's concerns - Sasha was interviewed and briefed by his lonesome, unlike the trainees who had all applied together and were able to exchange views in groups when the new department head first arrived. Level nine had been something of a mess in the interim between Mortimer Gamp and Yavin; it had helped the Unspeakables bond, in a way.

“Peculiar is Yavin in a nutshell,” he remarked dryly as he mixed his salad and began to eat in earnest, "but no, it wasn't classmates specifically. That would be odd." Virgil glanced at Sasha, pausing to chew. "He wanted profiles on everyone and everything. Ministry gossip, news, other department heads. Miranda Storm even, though I didn't have much to offer there. He'd been in and out of the country for years so I had to catch him up."

Virgil pushed a few leaves around the plate for a moment. Saying all this out loud felt strange; it seemed obvious now, why Yav had asked him for all the information. An innocuous public life of little notoriety; flashy in an artistic way but otherwise inconspicuous.

Just another smart-mouthed pretty boy from a pureblood family.

He turned that troubling thought aside and considered Sasha. Serious Sasha, who probably had a hundred questions and rightfully so. "I told him everything I knew from the papers, gave him a quick character study..." Virgil's sleepy mouth tugged into a droll little smile as he recalled the description.

Muggle money. Snob, European sort, horses and excess. Likes to mix worlds, would break the Statute if he thought he could get away with it. Asks lots of questions. Smart enough to get into trouble and selfish enough to get out of it.

In short, Virgil had painted a picture based on what little he'd known of Sasha at school. Things were different now.

"Before he interviewed you, I told him about the necromancy stunt - and about what flashed in your mind when you found out I was a Legilimens. Yav asked about that," he narrowed his gaze slightly, "and it's a good trick I suppose. The first thing people think about when they find out is the things they want to keep secret."

If his thoughts were a ball of yarn, the thread was slowly unravelling. Virgil rubbed the side of his head and sighed. "And he knows about you and Abby, but only because she's a person of interest. It's not personal," he added in a throwaway voice, "he does it for everyone."

Sasha wasn't sure peculiar was the term he'd use to describe Morgenthau but it might have been a more apt description of Virgil's trust in the man and willingness to divulge other's secrets with him.  Secrets Sasha wasn't even aware the other had been privy to.  He had no idea who Virgil would have heard about the so-called 'necromancy stunt' from; only Professors Trishna and Storm had really been privy to it and he trusted neither of them would have divulged it to another student.  Yet, maybe this was another of Morgenthau's tests, like the rumored familial acquaintance that he was hoping Sasha would confirm. 

"So, you provided baseless rumors and private details I didn't know he'd have access to.  Between Rita Skeeter's model reporting and how stellar I'm sure those sounded out of context, I'm surprised he's even considering me."  Unless there was more going on between these two than Sasha knew and there were other, unknown, motivations. 

Slowly, he shook his head.  "I'm still considering the opportunity and I'm really excited about what they're looking into.  I just haven't decided if it's worth the risk, yet.  I mean - jobs like these ... you need someone to talk to to keep your head above water and avoid unintentional missteps.  I understand not talking to outsiders - that's easy enough.  But, even with just the interview, I have thoughts and ideas and concerns I want to bounce off someone but there's no one I can do that with, openly."

"I just wish I knew there would be people there I'd be able to trust and, right now, I don't think that's the case.  It's unsettling."  Sasha shrugged and shook his head, again.  "I don't know what to do. 

            "I'm surprised he's even considering me."

Virgil picked at the last few rocket leaves on his plate, shrugging. "It's Mysteries, not Cambridge. Nobody's looking for straight OWLs and a spotless record." Academic intelligence was important on nine but it was more of a starting point than anything else - he'd quickly learned that as he got to know other Unspeakables. Everyone was clever in some way but everyone was also rather strange, in ways you couldn't measure with a test.

"Well I won't try to sell you a dead goldfish," he put down his fork and leaned back, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. "You're rather muggl-y so I suppose you could chat with undercover Unspeakables in the muggle world, see how they feel about it all. If you come across one." Virgil took out a rolled cigarette before using his wand to light it. "Just remember to talk about rugby."

The tobacco gave off a  faint scent of burnt honey as he turned his head to the side to blow out the first breath. "I signed up for Mysteries before Yav joined, you know. Nick thought I was mad for wanting to go back to where Mortimer Gamp had kept us when we were kidnapped."

How was that less than a year ago? It felt like ages now. Like he wasn't even the same person anymore. Virgil crossed an arm over his chest, rested his elbow against it as he continued to smoke in an effete manner. He looked at Sasha thoughtfully.

"I suppose my curiosity got the better of me," he gestured, disturbing a wisp of smoke. "I won't blame you for backing out, if you do. We have to trust each other on nine and without that trust, it's just hell. And I wouldn't wish hell on many people."

Virgil smiled dryly. No, just a handful of them.

"Maybe," Sasha offered, with a slight shrug.  "But, first impressions bear a heavy weight.  It would have been nice - nevermind."  He shook his head and set his fork down, leaning back against his chair. 

"Unless ending interviews with pointless 'tests' and threats are just a part of his sense of humor," Sasha offered, lifting his hands to gesture air quotes.  "I definitely am not sure I can trust Morgenthau.  Convincing me that that routine was just a display of humor would be a hard sell.  I've never gotten the impression you've thought that highly of me so I assume whatever I think or say around you will go back to him-"  He glanced across the table at Virgil, looking for confirmation in either his verbal response or body language. 

"I really don't want to pass up on this opportunity and the one positive is it didn't sound like I'd work directly with him that much.  I suppose I won't really know if the people I'd be working with are trustworthy until I got there." 

It would be a blind leap of faith.  But, his recommendation was a good one and mirrored Abby's.  Except for one excellent suggestion on Abby's part.  "Do you know of anyone I could talk to?  Especially, perhaps, people that I'd likely be working with.  Especially someone that isn't as thrilled about working with him?"

"I signed up for Mysteries before Yav joined, you know. Nick thought I was mad for wanting to go back to where Mortimer Gamp had kept us when we were kidnapped."

He nodded his head and picked up his fork, again, spearing some salad and putting it in his mouth.  "Ja, no.  I get it.  I think there's lots of ways we try to make sense of that kind of shit and rarely does the approach make any sense.  Sometimes, ignoring it until it fades works.  Sometimes, you need to understand it."

            "....so I assume whatever I think or say around you will go back to him-"

Virgil shrugged, examining his cigarette idly for a second and feeling a bit caught out. It was true: he hadn't thought very highly of Sasha at school, largely because it was easy to listen to rumours and to other people's thoughts about him. But then again, Virgil had never been known to think highly of anyone. His patronising attitude alienated many former classmates.

"If you tell me not to tell him things, now, I won't..." he explained slowly and cautiously, like balancing between words, "... because I'd assume that's a two way street, in that I'd trust you to keep my secrets from someone if I asked."

Not from Yavin of course; Yav might read it off someone's thoughts anyway. There were some things Virgil kept far away from his mentor, both in his mindscape and in reality - things the older wizard didn't need to know and didn't want to know. The respect legilimens had for private spaces inside themselves.

"I can give you a couple of names." Virgil nodded at Sasha's request, taking a long and thoughtful drag. "I like to pass off Yavin's eccentricity as humour but I suppose the truth is, he does things for purposes he won't share. Maybe there's a reason behind them, good or bad."

Merlin help the Ministry, he hoped it was a good reason. Virgil didn't want to assume Sasha was being paranoid - that was a false leap of logic. Sasha wasn't the paranoid type. Presumably, something in the other boy's past was prompting him to tread cautiously now.

"Talk to a few Unspeakables from the Space Chamber and see how you feel," he smiled through a cloud of smoke. "I've known Yavin since I was seven, I suppose my implicit trust isn't the best testimony."

It hadn't really occurred to Sasha before this moment that he'd been hoping his assessment of the situation had been inaccurate.  He remembered the surprise that had flickered across Abby's expression when he'd expressed his doubts about Virgil's perceptions.  He thought he'd simply dismissed her reaction as Abby's unfailing optimism. 

But, the profound disappointment he felt when saw Virgil shrug suggested otherwise.  Maybe her optimism had touched some hope that Virgil could be counted as a friend.  But, the dismissive shrug, the absence of any refusal or qualification suggested Sasha's initial perception had been accurate. 

It was the disappointment, more than the actual response, that carried the greatest impact.  Confused emotions sucked and this was neither the time nor place where he wanted to be sorting them out. 

Sasha shifted in his seat and set the fork down on the edge of the half-eaten plate.  "I had already assumed as much," he offered with a dismissive shrug.  "I value other's privacy as much as I value my own.  Though, I suppose if we're keeping things professional, it really wouldn't matter in the end." 

"I would appreciate that," Sasha offered, confirming his interest in speaking with others on Level 9.  "I would like to talk to them.  I appreciate you making lunch and I'm sure I've taken enough of your time.  I suppose, if you see me on Level 9, you'll know what decision I came to."  Etiquette had always been a familiar and comforting band-aid for uncomfortable social situations and Sasha was relying on it fully as he got to his feet and went to the door to fetch his book bag.