((This takes place on or around Sept 16, after Ahmed’s friends have smuggled him out of St. Mungo’s. Not wanting to get them in further trouble, he has given them the slip. They are welcome to track him down. So are new friends, and others…   ))

Ahmed was wandering in Diagon Alley, feeling at a loss. What he wanted was to confer with Tulojow Nagde. They had known each other for almost twenty years; ever since he first began patrolling the mountains along the North Indian border. True, their interactions had on occasion been less than pleasant. The woman had a habit of haring off on her own (much as he was doing right now); and the misadventure with the yeti might easily have got them both killed.  

He smiled despite his worry, picturing other times she had disappeared from his surveillance. Knowing her habits, inevitably he would track her down at demonstrations in places he was not supposed to be himself; such as Tibet, Myanmar and most dangerously, Tiananmen Square. On that occasion he all but had to sling her over his shoulder and Apparate, to get her out of there before the tanks arrived.

But though she might have been irritated with him for interfering, she never seemed to hold a grudge. And he felt in serious need of her advice just now…

The problem was that he could not figure out how to get to Hogwarts. He had never been to the nearest Apparation point...Hogsmeade...so he could not visualize a destination clearly enough to be sure of getting there. He had doubts that having seen a few pictures was good enough. Ganesh knew where he would end up if he tried it, assuming he didn’t Splinch…

He could not use the floo network for similar reasons, plus it might be noticed. He did not wish to attract the Ministry’s radar. He was not so sure as the Brits seemed to be, that the attempt to kill him originated in his homeland.

During his convalescence, Ahmed had heard the rumors about Kingstreet. What he heard did not surprise him. Even back in India, he had heard a lot about that woman, all of it bad. He would not put it past her to smuggle Runespoors into England, with the intent of turning them loose in the Ministry some fine day. Her reach must surely extend as far as India, which still had so many ties with the Empire...

Thinking of these things, he turned a corner without really paying attention. And found himself in Knockturn Alley…

Of all the things he might have been,  Cináed was, certainly, not at a loss.  In fact,  Cináed wasn't sure of anytime he'd felt so high on life.  He'd just spent a long night with his mates and a large bottle of top shelf firewhiskey celebrating the successful game of doctor that had left a Ministry scum Auror under his imperious  The Grosvenor girl was still carefully held under the imperious and had helped him infiltrate Hogwarts.  He was in possession of a wand - carefully whittled down to the smallest size he could manage without damaging the core and sewn nto the seam of the sleeve of his robes.  And an exquisite little witch had taken temporary residence in his humble pub, supple, warm and willing. 

He was riding such fecking, exuberant high!  It was a fantastic feeling. 

When  Cináed had, finally, stepped out of the Black Chimaera with a drink in hand for some fresh air, his step had been so full of vigor and enthusiasm that even Seamus pushed himself to his feet and followed on the outing.  The impressively-sized English Mastiff was the epitome of a lazy, good for nothing oaf - it took an incredible surge of energy to motivate the dog for anything. 

Having been a full-time resident and a mainstay of the business scene of Knockturn Alley for three years (not to mention having, unofficially climbed the ranks of the underground WBA),  Cináed was quite familiar with the usual denizens of the darkened alley.  In his elevated mood, he greeted most of the witches and wizards he passed with a friendly nod and greeting, even gifting a few of the old grizzled hags with a charismatic peck on the back of the hand. 

The only thing crimping his enthusiastic stroll down Knockturn was Mannie's seeming inability to fully join in his enthusiasm.  Manfred Ashford gave it his best shot but his quarter century in Azkaban had done seemingly irreparable damage to his ability to cut loose.  But, Mannie seemed to thrive vicariously on the enthusiasm of others. 

"I swear, it was strange, though,"  Cináed said, waggling the hand holding the drink at Mannie, the mastiff trailing at his feet.  The older wizard had already had to hear Cináed's retelling of the day of playing doctor and imperiousing aurors ten times.  "I swear - I was holding that little snotty-nosed brat and there was something strangely familiar about him.  It was bleeding unnerv-"

Chris had arched an eyebrow, nodding his head towards a figure at the foot of Knockturn, cutting  Cináed's eighth tipsy recount off short.  It was easy always easy to recognize the 'toursits' in Knockturn.  No local or frequent visitor was stupid enough to venture down Knockturn with that look of lost confusion. 

Lifting a hand haphazardly,  Cináed left Mannie where he was and approached the stranger.  Far less obedient than the two wizards, Seamus continued to lumber along with  Cináed.  He took a sip of the blackish liquid in his shot glass as he approached the fellow, extending his other heavily runic-tattooed hand.  "You look lost," he admitted, frankly.  The bloke looked far too official for  Cináed's liking, but  Cináed wasn't about to jump to conclusions, quite yet.  If one were to go off of first impressions, Chris would seemingly seem to be some upstanding Ministry official.  A trait which made Chris incredibly useful.

Ahmed noticed a tall, wild-haired man approaching, accompanied by one of the largest dogs he had ever seen. Only his own Afghan search-dogs might rival the beast in size, but they were far away, in the mountains. He sighed involuntarily as he thought of home, still wondering why he of all people had been sent on this fool’s errand.

He had been too long in law enforcement not to recognize what the British Aurors would call ‘a dodgy bloke.’ However this did not automatically make him feel put off. Two of his closest friends, Krishna Daku and Vlad Dragulia, could only be described as scary-looking. Nor did participating in illegal activities necessarily make one a ‘bad guy.’ Ahmed often looked the other way when pitiful streams of refugees crossed the border from Tibet, Myanmar and other places; and Krishna Daku was an invaluable informant.

Though he wore civilian dress...a long Nehru shirt and loose drawstring trousers...Ahmed would not have been surprised if the stranger recognized him for what he was. Military bearing was not so easily put off as a uniform; and of course his hair and beard were still neatly trimmed.

You look lost...

Ahmed could smell the night’s carousing on the man’s breath, but this too did not bother him. He was of Sufi persuasion rather than a strict Islamist, and did not judge people for whatever it took them to get through the day. Or the night.

Warily extending a hand for the dog to sniff it, he said, “Lost? Yes...I suppose I am.”

Mannie didn't seem entirely happy with Iza's presence.  She thought she made him nervous... though she might have been growing on him.  She wouldn't have ventured outside of the pub during the day, if  Cináed hadn't made it clear that he wanted her...

Iza's entire existence revolved around  Cináed wanting her, it seemed.  Sometimes, that made her irritable-- times when she restrained herself on purpose for his sake, when normally she would act solely for her own pleasure.  It was an uncomfortable feeling, taking another person's welfare into consideration... at the same time, it was exhilarating.  

She had been trailing along behind the men, letting them walk ahead of her so she didn't dampen their fun.  At the sudden halt, she bumped into Mannie, lost in her own thoughts.  Curiously, she peeked out around his shoulder.  He ignored her.  At the sight of the disturbance, her hand automatically flew to her waist, where she kept Aunt Nadine's wand hidden in the folds of her skirts.

Cin went straight up to the man, speaking with him.  Iza's face glowed for a moment in admiration-- Cin was fearless!-- but a wary tension held her posture and her hand didn't leave her hidden wand.  She watched the mutt sniff the stranger's hand, wondering that he still had all his fingers-- for now.

Slowly, she wormed her way around Mannie, creeping up behind Cinaed silently. Would  he play it straight?  If not... Iza was ready.  She wouldn't let him have all the fun.

She offered the stranger her most brilliantly sunny smile and draped shyness over herself as if it were a new gown...  "Hello," she said sweetly and meekly, then glanced up at  Cináed and back again.  "To be lost, you would need a destination," she suggested and pretended to blush at being so forward.  "Are you looking for somewhere or someone?"  Inwardly, she was strung tightly.  If he answered wrongly, she'd deal with him herself... if  Cináed let her.

She looked as innocently helpful as her words seemed, though she may have been working on Cin's good will as well.  She should have hung back with his boy... but Iza was never good at taking orders.

Moira was not amused having completely lost track of Ahmed.  She knew why he disappeared, he was trying to make sure she didn't get in trouble for helping him 'escape' from St. Mungo's.  If it was ever discovered that she had been involved in smuggling him out of the hospital it could mean her job, but with the constant questioning over the incident at the airport she had known he would never get a moment's peace.

The most likely place to begin a search had been Diagon Alley.  She had stopped in the Leaky Cauldron, but no one matching Ahmed's description had been there.  She had wandered down nearly every side street, checking the shops, and still nothing.  Now, she found herself standing at the entrance to Knockturn Alley with an interesting dilemma.  If he was here he could have easily made a wrong turn not knowing what waited down that particular alleyway.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her wand from within her jacket pocket.  She needed to be sure and she only hoped she wouldn't end up another report that crossed Marcus' desk.  If this ended badly, she could think of quite a few people who would not be amused by her latest dalliance with something dangerous.

Saying a little prayer that the phrase 'no good deed goes unpunished' wouldn't apply to this case, she took her first steps into Knockturn Alley.

((Moira is a few steps behind, but should arrive on the scene shortly for you all to have some fun with ))

Oh - the dog really didn't do much for  Cináed's image.  He was starting to regret having brought the dog along.  As the stranger reached out to let the mastiff sniff his hand, the dog wagged a lazy tail and lapped the stranger's hand before turning and ambling back towards a wall near where Mannie and Iza stood.  With a groan, the dog slumped down in the dust, already bored with the proceedings. 

 Cináed's gaze traveled quickly over the man in front of her.  His poise was unmistakable - whether it was a byproduct of law enforcement, military or just an over-inflated ego,  Cináed couldn't identify on visual inspection alone.  And, as the fellow admitted to being lost,  Cináed nodded, opening his mouth, about to attempt to fish more information from him when he heard Mannie's gruff voice hiss of protest.  Iza, it appeared, wasn't content to remain on the sidelines with the two boys.   Iza stepped up next to him and took the initiative. 

But, there was no amusement on  Cináed's face as he looked down at Iza.  He appreciated the enthusiasm and eagerness but she'd need to learn to curtail it.  At least when he gave her instructions to.  "Quiet," he said, a touch of warning to his voice.  Sure, she was asking the right questions but she was taking an initiative that wasn't welcomed. 

After all,  Cináed hadn't come to a decision on this man.  It was obvious he could be useful - whether as ally, contact or bait had yet to be seen.  Raising suspicions in the man, beyond what their motley appearance was liable to prompt on its own, would only hinder them. 

"Please excuse her forwardness,"  Cináed offered the fellow as he extended a heavily tattooed hand.  "There are some down this way that are a little wary of strangers.  But, perhaps, we can help you find what you're looking for."  Just over the stranger's shoulders,  Cináed spotted a young woman, yet another individual that was, clearly, misplaced in Knockturn.  He offered her a wink and nodded his head in greeting.

Ahmed glanced from Wild Man to the girl who had just come up to stand at his elbow. She came across as young, sweet and naïve, perhaps too much so to be entirely convincing.

"Are you looking for somewhere or someone?”  

He was going to say somewhere. One did not need to know Knockturn Alley, by name or reputation, to guess that this wasn’t the sort of place you named names. Not that Ahmed would have done that anywhere, to complete strangers…

“Quiet.”  

Ahmed looked from the girl back to Wild Man. "Please excuse her forwardness. There are some down this way that are a little wary of strangers.”

“One can’t be too careful these days,” Ahmed allowed, giving them his best Inscrutable Easterner smile. He had observed the two men hanging in the background, and he also noticed the way Little Miss Muffet kept her hand close to the waistband of her skirt. Much as Ahmed kept his right hand near his left sleeve where he kept his wand secreted...

“Perhaps, we can help you find what you're looking for.”

Ahmed saw Wild Man glance past him, and wink. He wanted badly to see who Wild Man was winking at; but something told him turning his back could be a very  bad idea…

Iza watched Seamus and made a conscious effort to quell her disgust and disappointment.  She kept waiting to discover the type of Wizard-- or Muggle-- that she felt certain  Cináed had trained the dog to find aversive... yet somehow, he never came through for her.  Surely  Cináed wouldn't keep such a drooly, amiable, pleasant brute around just because he was... cute... would he?  Sooner or later, he'd meet someone who would trigger that killing instinct...

She sighed, a small sound, mostly from her repeated disappointment in Seamus, but also an artifice-- and a rebellion.   Cináed had commanded her to be quiet.  He surely wouldn't take exception to such a tiny breath escaping her lips... but it was a sound after he'd commanded silence, and inwardly she smirked.  At the same time, her eyes glittered privately with her shame...

She disliked that he'd called her to task in front of Mannie... and a stranger.  She fought not to narrow her eyes at the stranger, but to carefully keep the same pleasant, vague expression on her face-- open and appealing...  She disliked witnesses to her shame, but  Cináed seemed to be playing it straight.  She did her best to follow his lead, still keeping her arm draped across her waist, covering the wand secreted under her skirts, but she simpered up at  Cináed apologetically.  She wished she could tell him she was sorry, but he'd told her to be quiet.  She seethed, but applied her most disarming smile and kept her lips sealed...

Then her eyes did narrow when she saw his wink, and followed his gaze toward the witch approaching stealthily.  Instantly, Iza switched from obedience to wariness again.  She knew  Cináed's tastes, and this Witch didn't seem to fit... but if she came to steal Iza's prize, she'd find herself missing something pretty...

Iza shifted her gaze back to the first threat, shifting her weight from foot to foot, too, guiltily.  Anything  Cináed wanted was his, and it was not Iza's place to deny him.  She studied the strange man who still hadn't answered her question, but instead focused his response on  Cináed's apology.  For her.  She fumed... she wanted the answer from him, not pleasantries.  Until she knew  Cináed was safe, she wouldn't let up her guard.

So she studied him, ignoring the silently approaching Witch, memorizing his features until she was quite certain that if he harmed  Cináed, she could track him to the ends of the Earth.  She wouldn't kill him immediately... she'd play with him first.  She remembered the Curses the Death Eaters taught her clearly, and riffled through them in her mind, choosing which to apply first...

Her eyes were wide and innocent despite these thoughts as she regarded him.  He was... well, not plain.  He was somewhat handsome, in a foreign, boy-next-door sort of way.  It wouldn't help him, if Iza chose to strike... Iza liked innocent, kind features.  She liked to see them twist in pain...

Whether or not Wild Man heard that little sigh, Ahmed did. It might or might not have been involuntary, but he was inclined to think not. When he used to tell his daughter Kamala to be quiet and stop arguing, she used to do the very same thing. A small way of rebelling, which Kamala knew would go unpunished. Of course Ahmed did not know yet if Wild Man would allow Little Miss Muffet to get away with it.

He saw her narrow her eyes, following Wild Man's gaze after the wink. So...Little Miss Muffet either did not like who Wild Man was winking at, or did not like him winking at anyone but her. The temptation to look and see who it was  grew stronger by the moment...

The wide-eyed innocent expression did not convince Ahmed of anything . Again...his daughter used to look at him just like that, shifting from foot to foot in just the same way...when she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Ahmed wondered what sort of cookies this girl had been stealing. Then again...perhaps he didn't want to know.

She was still holding her arm draped across her waist. This did nothing to reassure Ahmed of her intentions. The girl on the airplane...the one who tried to kill him...had done the same thing.

However...something told him it would be most unwise to insult Wild Man, by refusing to answer a simple question. "I am," he said cautiously, "looking for a way out of London..."

He was nervous about admitting this, because he was sure that since his escape from St. Mungo's, his face had been plastered on the front of every wizarding newspaper in the country.

Moira was so out of place and with ever step she took she because increasingly more aware of that fact.  In her mind she was going through a painfully long list of people who would not be amused and she wasn't sure what would be worse if anything went wrong, possible injuries or possible lectures.  She was a healer, and although she knew a few basic defensive spells it probably wouldn't be enough in Knockturn Alley.

Looking up ahead she saw a group standing outside one of the establishments.  She couldn't quite hear what they were saying, and she couldn't be sure the man facing away from her was Ahmed.  One of the men noticed her and as she met his gaze he gave her a wink which caused her to quickly avert her eyes, cursing her foolishness.  Yet, she continued on, her hand tightening around her wand which she held at her side.

There was a blonde woman next to him, and Moira guessed her to be around her own age.  She couldn't pin point her as anyone she knew at Hogwarts though.  The most likely reasoning would be the woman had been either older or younger the Moira and in a different house.  If their paths had never crossed aside from at meals she wouldn't have had any real reason to get to know her.

"I am looking for a way out of London..."

She knew that voice, and she stopped, pondering for a moment what to do next.  Thankfully the press hadn't published much linking her to Marcus yet.  That had been a feet unto itself, but since their first date back in June she had been careful to avoid as much attention as possible.  It was easier that way, and meant she could continue on with life without worrying about mindless gossip being passed around...for the most part.  So, she hoped that no one here would have any reason to recognize her or make that connection.

"There you are," she said, trying to appear at ease with the situation.   "I thought I'd lost you....I think I've managed to secure a bit of help outside London."  It was lie...at the moment.  She could find help outside London, if that's what he wanted.

"Certainly not,"  Cináed responded, almost off-handedly to the fellow. While his voice and expression were casual, his mind was racing to assess the situation - as well as the man's relative value.  And, in what way the man could be put to use. 

Like this stranger, Iza's defiant sigh wasn't lost on  Cináed.  He glanced, slowly, at Izadora, his eyes narrowed slightly, threateningly, before turning back to the fellow.  He'd refrain from reproaching her further.  For now.  In his mind, he had not been calling her to task.  He'd been giving her a directive.  But, they'd have to address this ... unruliness ... later.  There was a time and a place for it.  This wasn't one of them. 

However,  Cináed knew well enough that he wasn't in a position to hold the man, forcibly, to obtain any value.  He was smart enough to know there'd be no way he could get away with such a thing.  To do so was just asking to get dumped back in Azkaban.  But - perhaps, he could prove useful in another way.  Judging by the way the man was pointedly avoiding looking at him, the fellow wasn't inclined to trust  Cináed at first glances.   

"Ahh, well, I'm afraid you might have taken a wrong turn,"  Cináed replied, casually, with an amiable chuckle.  "This is definitely not the way out of London.  In fact, the ally dead ends well in the heart of the city.  Assuming you came through the pub," as most did.  Unless they found an apparition point. ", you'll have to head out the way you came.  There are a few choices of transport from there - if you have a wand, the Knight Bus might be the easiest."  Of course, there were really only two types of magically-associated adults who did not have a wand.  Squibs and ex-Azzies.  It was unlikely any squibs would risk heading down Knockturn.

 Cináed looked towards the woman approaching the fellow and, briefly, his gaze flickered down to the wand in her hand.  "Afternoon, my dear,"  Cináed offered her with a slight tip of his head.  "So, you're responsible for this wayward Mr..."  He let the question trail off, curious to see if either of these individual would complete the sentence.

"I am looking for a way out of London."

At the stranger's words, Iza immediately dropped her arm from where the handle of her wand was digging into her midriff from the pressure.  It loosened from the ridge she'd pressed into her skin and she nearly sighed again with relief before she remembered Cinaed had cautioned her to silence.  With the sort of sudden shifts common to Iza, she no longer considered his order a rebuke, but simple caution.  This switch came on the heals of her relief with the stranger's answer.

But her face reflected surprise, that he'd come searching for a way out.  Knockturn was fairly well entrenched in the heart of London.  Any escape from the Muggle city would surely be sought elsewhere.  She agreed with Cinaed that, if he couldn't Apparate, the Knight Bus was his best course.  But the stranger's answer was  still the last thing she would expect: she had expected him to lie and make up a name... perhaps set to follow Cinaed or herself, or any number of the patrons in the Black Chimaera.  If he were innocently lost, she'd expected that he might name some shop in Diagon Alley from which map he'd become confused.  Or both: meeting someone, somewhere.  It was the logical answer.

Instead, he surprised her by admitting he was trying to escape. 

Escape... Hmmmm...  Something nagged Iza with that thought, and his face seemed oddly familiar, now.  Had she seen him someplace before?  Then she had it.

Iza didn't really read the Daily Prophet but she often found papers lying strewn about.  Her memory still played tricks on her from time to time, but she could swear that this man's picture had made the front page at some point.  She remembered that the circle of scotch from an empty glass had left an uncomfortable ring across the photo's nose, and it had been most impatient, ducking lower in the frame.  She'd barely caught a glimpse of him from the nose up.

She had no idea what he'd escaped from-- she didn't bother to read discarded papers-- but suddenly he went from being "dangerous" to being "in danger."  Iza's eyes flashed back to the approaching Witch.  Was he her quarry?  Did Cinaed intend to hand him over to her?  Was that why he'd winked?  She considered trying to catch his attention, but the Witch was already there so she held her tongue.

She would follow Cinaed's lead precisely, now.  If the man was worth helping, Cinaed would know.  But it was exasperating not to be allowed to speak.  She glared at the approaching Witch, who was obviously pretending to a light-hearted acquaintance with the stranger, and pricked her ears to pick up every nuance of Cinaed's inflection.

Though she didn't immediately touch her hidden wand again, Iza's fingers twitched with longing...

Blast, thought Ahmed. If there was anybody he did not want to drag into this situation it was Moira. She was a nice girl...and if there was anything he suspected about these people, it was that they were not at all nice. It was fine for just him to deal with them. He could take care of himself, now that he knew to watch out for darts as well as other methods of attack...

Having to watch out for an innocent person complicated things, but there was not much choice. He couldn't just tell her to go away, nor did he think she would obey him even if he did.

He sighed. “Hello, nice to see you.” Without turning his head, he reached out to pull her gently next to him, so he could at least see where she was.

He did not want to discuss who her friends were, in front of these people...

"I would Apparate," he said, slowly meeting Wild Man's eyes, "except that I have never been to the place I want to go, so I am not sure I could visualize it clearly enough. The Knight Bus now...I have not heard of that. What is it?"

He did not react at all to the attempt to get his name. After all neither Wild Man nor little Miss Muffet had introduced themselves...

Ahmed gently pulled her towards him, and Moira complied.  She wasn't sure what to do about the wand in her hand.  These people could mistake precaution for a threat and that would spell big trouble.  So, using the fact that she was not directly next to him, she did her best to obscure it from view.

She didn't answer his question, it was directed at the man not her.  There was something about the blonde woman she didn't trust, not that she trusted anyone else from her little group either.  She noted her glare, and Moira wondered if she had been that obvious.  She wasn't the best liar in the world, but she had hoped she had done a decent enough job considering given a little time it could be the truth.

Right now all she wanted was to get out of Knockturn Alley and preferrably with Ahmed.  She wasn't sure however, how easy that would be given the current company. 

Meanwhile...

It wasn't usual for Marcus to show up unannounced, especially with a basket of food and flowers. He kknew that Moira had been stressed lately, so he thought he'd surprise her with breakfast and some good company. They had been dating for a while now, and Moira finally felt comfortable enough to give him a key to her place. He figured she'd appreciate the gesture, if not the food as well. She had been teaching him how to cook more diverse foods, so he decided to use some of his new cooking ability for a special occasion.

He gently pushed open her door and entered. Setting down the basket of food on her table, he quietly stepped to her bedroom door and opened it slowly. She had to be at work soon, but there was plenty of time for a little extra sleep, and a little extra Marcus. He opened the door, but found her bed to be empty. He quietly listened for some running water, footsteps, anything that would let him know that she was actually here.

There was nothing.

She had a very consistant schedule, so where was she? Immediately, Marcus began to remember that Muggle that terrorized her. Brian... something or other. Had he found Moira? Marcus searched her place for some sign of struggle, or a note of some kind. Something that would lead him to her whereabouts. It didn't take him long to find the note on her bedroom's dresser.

"Could you have been more cryptic, Moira?" Marcus read the note, but didn't quite understand it. Why had she gone to Knockturn Alley to meet a friend? Why was she out there so early in the morning? Whatever her reasons, they can't be good. Knockturn Alley is not the sort of place for Moira to be wandering about in alone. He left the food on the table and headed out the door, worried about her safety.

"In Knockturn Alley. Fantastic."