(1:30pm)

Early afternoon was, often, one of the quietest times of the day for the pub at the foot of Knockturn.  The main pub room was, for the most part, silent - The Black Chimaera wouldn't open for drinkers for a couple hours.  Its current residents were the only ones who'd be around the place and most of them had ventured on to other venues for the days.  Shops were scarce at the end of Knockturn Alley so there was a limit to the number of casual shoppers passing by the front of the building. 

A fact Cinaed had strategically planned for when he'd chosen the location for the pub. 

He'd lost track of time - but then, he hadn't had much of a reason to keep an eye on the clock.  Morgan would show when Morgan showed - as long as Cinaed remained where he was, there was no need to keep track of the time.  The fire roaring in the large fire place of the backroom where the WBA met filled the room with a subtle, radiating warmth.  Cinaed was lounging back in one of the deep, comfortable couches while Mannie was perched at the edge of his seat.  For as rugged and casual as the main pub was, the meeting room was comfortable, stylish and well furnished. 

Mannie was recounting the events of the previous night to both men's profound entertainment.  An hour or so after Cinaed had slipped off to the Bridge House, some old thug of an ex-Death Eater had graced the pub with his presence.  He'd thought he was making quite the entrance but, according to Mannie's description, the man had been so drunk he'd just looked like a buffoon. 

Mannie had attempted to pantomime the man's attempt to size up the others in the pub - a performance that had proven hysterical with Mannie's short, squat frame and shiny, bald head.  He'd just gotten to the part where Seamus, the pub's resident mastiff, had started barking at the drunk when a solid rap on the door cut through the laughter. 

Still chuckling, slightly, Cinaed waved Mannie to the door, pushing himself to his feet and crossing the room to the sideboard.  He knew he wouldn't recognize Morgan when the young man entered the room so, at first glance, there was no way to discern who had entered the room.  "Can I get you a drink?" he asked.  The conversation would remain casual - unimportant - until he was able to verify the stranger's identity.  "Have an uneventful trip?"

The door to the courtyard opened to reveal a red haired, short, stout man, the sort of man who hardens into teak instead of softening with age. Perhaps middle-aged, he had squinty blue eyes and a healthy amount of stubble. He hesitated before entering to check about him for watchers, his eyes sliding from side to side with calculated care before he strode in.

"If you like," he said in response to Cináed's questions, his voice as rough as expected, but the precise manner of his speech was jarring in contrast to his appearance. And, "Yes, extremely. No one bothered me." Meaning, of course, in his trip down Knockturn alley. But then, it was difficult to look at this man and imagine anyone hassling him. Landis never visited the Black Chimeara in a form that looked easy to bait.

And his sense of timing was excellent. The door was barely shut that the man's frame began to lengthen, his face smoothed out the ravages of age, and his hair began to lighten and grow. It was over quickly enough, and Landis, looking entirely like himself again, shed the dirty jacket with a flicker of distaste and unbuttoned with quick fingers the tight material of the shirt at his neck.

It was, admittedly, cutting it close. But Landis had another two vials of the same polyjuice in the jacket pocket, and he could have drunk another had he thought himself in danger of not reaching the pub in time. As it was, he hadn't, for although he had plenty of patience there was still something unnecessary and irritating about sitting at the Black Chimeara, drinking and waiting for the renewed potion to wear off before Tawse would speak to him about anything of any importance.

Cinaed grinned to himself as he took out a bottle of firewhiskey and a couple of shot glasses, without looking up at the scraggly older fellow stepping into the room.  The answer, indeed, didn't match the persona of the one offering it - There were plenty of old DE who shared the tough-guy-bum look who usually expressed enthusiasm when it came to a free drink.  And, it was hardly about whether he like it or not - he couldn't care less whether or not this fellow had a drink.   

Either way, Cinaed left the spare glass on the sideboard after filling his own glass and settling himself back in an empty chair.  "No, I imagine they wouldn't," Cinaed agreed with a nod.  By then, the fellow's appearance had melded back to his normal softer and refined appearance - an appearance that was deceptive as Cinaed knew well enough.  But, then, those who still possessed wands didn't have to depend as heavily on first impressions.  If Cinaed looked like the younger man down Knockturn without a wand, he'd have fallen prey years ago. 

Morgan, like Colburn, had been encouraged to keep low profiles among the WBA.  They didn't frequent the Black Chimaera and communication was, often, limited to carefully planned, clandestine meetings such as this.  Casual interactions were limited if not non-existent.  "I heard rumors you interviewed with Snark," Cinead offered.  Rumors of the meeting had reached his ears - the nature, or more importantly, end result of that meeting he was still ignorant of.

But, being strictly business was not an easy trait for Cinaed.  One of the primary business venues of WBA was a pub, after all.  And, it was still the social aspect that had drawn Cinaed to the group in the beginning.  "I met your brother," Cinaed offered brightly.  "An interesting lad.  He doesn't seem to share your determination, I've noticed."  Mildly disappointing.

Landis didn't drink often, or at least not firewhiskey. Alcohol loosened one's tongue and one's inhibitions. But he poured himself a glass after Cináed had filled his- while the professionalism of their relationship often outweighed the personal, if Landis couldn't drink around Cináed Tawse, he couldn't drink around anyone. It was a sign of trust as much as anything else, although Landis would have chosen to see it as one of respect. Likewise, very few people would see him sit cross-legged on a chair like a school boy. Given his composure and his straight-backed posture, he still could have gotten away with appearing dignified even cross-legged and lightly cupping the glass of whiskey if not for the fact that his position made it very obvious that his trousers, previously well-fitting on the red-haired form, were too short at the ankle.

Obviously, he hadn't noticed this. He was thinking that it was rather pleasant to be able to report to Cináed in person. Getting information to him in other ways was always risky, as owls could be easily intercepted and the floo allowed anyone in the room to see faces as easily as if Landis had showed up in person. He was working on procuring some sort of two-way mirror or notebook, but until then meetings, and instructions, were few and far between. Fortunately Landis was more than capable of managing on his own prompts- but that was not the point. They had two hours until the main bar opened, and two hours would be plenty of time, but it was nice to have the option of an uninterrupted conversation.

And it was nice to finally be able to tell Tawse this, the WBA's newest victory: "Yes," Landis said, and smiled with chilly satisfaction. "I have a position at Hogwarts. I start tomorrow as the Librarian, and I plan to apply for the Head of Slytherin house as well. It's highly probable I'll get that position as well; Analiza Snark was my previous employer, and she seems favorable towards me."

Then, bizarrely, Tawse brought up Erin. It made him pause. "No," Landis said after a moment, rather detachedly. "My brother and I don't share a lot of things in common. I doubt he'd be of any use to the WBA." After another minute of thought he added, "He may make excellent cannon fodder, however. Where ever did you meet him?"

Especially in given current company, Cinaed was far more open and transparent with his emotions and responses than his younger counterpart.  Over the last couple years, through his involvement with the WBA, Cinaed had learned the fine art of discretion and subtly.  An ironic turn of events, though only those that had known Cinaed both before and after his incarceration would be aware of the irony.  Before his incarceration, as a youngster, Cinaed had been a very quiet, reserved and private boy. 

But, the man that had emerged from that island prison hardly resembled the teenager that had gone in.  The adult Cinaed made little attempt to hide the approval and victory in the smile that spread across his face.  "Fantastic!" he offered the younger man, lifting his whiskey glass in a toast.   At first, the enthusiasm was directed, entirely, on the accomplishment of getting in the school.  But, as he took a sip of his drink, further implications occurred to him.  "- Hogwarts librarian," Cinaed repeated, with a more subtle grin.  There were books in that library - books that he'd never been allowed anywhere near as a student.  Books which, in themselves, could prove to be incredibly powerful weapons. 

"Head of Slytherin."  Again, Cinaed repeated the younger man's words.  "That's good, that's good.  My old alma mater.  Shame I had to ... drop out early.  It seems there are quite a few Slytherins who could use some proper guidance.  There seemed to be some promising kids - but some seemed rather marginal."  Of course, Slytherin hardly seemed to be what it was in his day - but, perhaps, everyone had those types of thoughts.  Probably at least partly fueled by nostalgia. 

Cinaed nodded.  Aside from the generally pale complexion, there were few similarities between the two brothers.  Though, of course, if one was going off of the impression Cinaed would have given as a fifth year, they'd have thought Cinaed wouldn't have amounted to anything.  "Perhaps it'll come with maturity," he offered.  "Merlin knows I was a late bloomer.  I cared about even less than he did at his age."

"I paid a visit to Slytherin house.  I'd heard some rumors and felt a need to check in in person.  There's some ... interesting things going on in the school.  You aren't the only set of eyes and ears I have on the inside."

Landis watched, eyes heavy-lidded with amusement, when it hit Cináed- "- Hogwarts librarian." "Yes," he said, and hid his widening smile behind his glass. Of course, the books in the Hogwarts library were nearly all theory, at least the Restricted Section. Even the sort of over-enthusiastic people who put moving stairs, three-headed dogs, and Peeves the Poltergeist in a school for children wouldn't have books in the library that gave the spells to eviscerate a person (it wasn't hard) or how to summon demons (slightly harder). If they had, he hadn't found them yet. Regardless, Landis was good at theory. Potions, too, although the sort of potions he had in mind often involved awfully expensive ingredients. All together, there were many things the WBA could gain from his appointment to the library. He was pleased that Tawse had grasped the implications so immediately- but of course, if he was the sort of man who wouldn't, Landis wouldn't have been working for him.

He inclined his head, sympathetically, when Cináed spoke of his old alma mater. Landis had been young at the Battle of Hogwarts, too young to fight although he'd wanted to, but he remembered the first few years in his new house. Rife with secrets and dark knowledge, whispers of power, and the constant presence of fear, classes and homework had seemed incredibly secondary. After the battle, as Hogwarts struggled to rebuild itself and regain the sense of security it'd once had, Landis had had to readjust to a softer, less ambitious Slytherin, where everyone scittered around in paranoia of pointed fingers rather than stride, heads high, and make themselves invaluable. They should have unified. But they hadn't, and he could still see it in the kids in Slytherin now. They were soft, petty... weak. "No. It doesn't seem at all the same." But he would be a good Head of House. Even if his work ethic hadn't been such that it demanded he be, Slytherin was his house, and very soon, those kids would be his charges. "We'll see, but I'm certain to find at least a few. Even the way Slytherin house is now, there are still those with the ambition and the foresight to be interested."

Landis shrugged, in a way that could have either meant "Who knows?" or, possibly, "I don't care enough to continue the conversation." He couldn't imagine his younger brother making much of himself, and certainly nothing like Cináed Tawse. Erin hadn't the motivation, the passion, or the intellect. But of course, only time would tell. Perhaps one day Erin would be useful for something.

"Of course." Landis had never for a moment thought he was the only contact Tawse had at Hogwarts. There was no point in telling the man to be careful, for all that he'd already gone, and for all that he already knew it. "I will provide you with a map of the castle in relation to my quarters; if you ever need to come again, or leave quickly, staff have fireplaces and the ability to floo through the wards."

In just about every manner of his being, Cinaed was about as far as one could get from being that kid who'd be sorted into that Ravenclaw tower.  He vastly preferred doing to thinking, establishing relationships to pondering the particulars of interpersonal relationships.  He liked people.  Most people, at least.  Even as a student!  He'd been quiet, reserved - much preferring to be on the outside looking in rather than on the inside.  But, even then, he'd had no interest, whatsoever, in sitting in a quiet, dusty, book-filled room and being quiet. 

For him to acknowledge that there were benefits - power to be had in those dusty tomes took a fair amount of looking outside his own box.  But, he could see it.  Even if, for him, sifting through the theory to reach the more practical elements wasn't bound to be as easy or straightforward as with the librarian.

"There are quite a few prospects amongst the Slytherins.  A handful of them, I will start ... playing an active role in their education.  Any assistance you can offer in keeping that on the downlow would be much appreciated.  I'm hoping a seventh year - a girl named Vienna - will help me coordinate with the ones with promise.  Callum is a fifth year - a little rough around the edges but, with some polishing, could show some prospects."  With luck, those students could help shape the future of Slytherin House - and, if Morgan was able to achieve the position of Head of House, the former splendor and strength of the house could be restored.  "When do you find out if you'll be appointed Head of Slytherin?" 

Cinaed nodded his head; the map would prove helpful - there was no question.  "It was remarkably easy to to walk in the front door," Cinaed commented.  Of course, having an imperioused prefect helped make it so easy.  "However, flooing into and throughout Hogwarts will be immensely useful.  i certainly wouldn't want to tempt fate too much - and I'm sure there are plenty of areas in that castle that I wasn't even aware of as a student."   

He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to the sideboard, pouring another measure of whiskey in his glass.  "There seem to be two curious developments taking place in Hogwarts," Cinaed remarked as he sat back down in his chair.  "I'm sure you saw the articles about people getting their knickers in a bunch over Snark expelling some werewolf.  Apparently, they're trying to start some petty little protest group.  Don't know if you remember any of that SPEW nonsense back in the day, but now they're doing it for werewolves."  It was foolish - if it'd amount to much, Cinaed didn't know.  But, it seemed important Morgan was aware of it.

"In addition, it seems some muggleborn is starting a muggle culture appreciation club or something.  Seems they weren't getting enough from just the muggle studies class."  Cinaed snorted, slightly, as he took a sip of his whiskey.

Vienna, Callum- first name basis, Landis assumed. "Of course. I would prefer the students not know my connection to you or the WBA, but there are ways I can help them without revealing my hand in it. When I become Head of House, it will be much easier to keep an eye on any budding possibilities." And, of course, it'd give him the excuse to be more involved in both Slytherin and the dungeon area, which would be helpful when he mapped that area for Cináed. "I plan on talking to Snark as soon as possible. Of course, there may be some complaints from the other staff, given my age and inexperience with mentoring..." Landis smiled, a chilly sort of smile. "But I am confident that those can be worked out in a timely and progressive matter. That there is no current Head of House is an despicable oversight. Even a new staff member would be better than none, no?"

Landis almost looked forward to it, the complaints and the disapproval. If it came to it, he had absolutely no doubt in his own persuasive abilities. To think of it, himself at a staff meeting facing down older and more experienced teachers, some of whom being able to remember him from his school days... why, the challenge would be positively enjoyable. If it was a challenge at all.

"I imagine so. To call the security lax would be too complimentary." Hogwarts was too used to thinking of itself as safe to doubt its security, but there were many, many gaping holes. Landis could have informed Analiza Snark of these dangers, but he had absolutely no intention of doing so. That would be counter-productive. "I will try to map the floorplan very soon, but you realize it won't be a complete one. Hogwarts is far too vast and variable for a map to be made of its whole without considerable difficulty and magic." Besides which, even as Head of House, it would be difficult for Landis to wander without abandon in trying to map out the school. It would rouse untoward suspicion.

 "Do you know the identity of the werewolf or the active advocates?" Calmly, Landis swirled the liquid in his glass to catch the light, head tilted slightly to the side as he thought through the implications. "And of the muggleborn? Does he or she have many supporters?" Oh, but Hogwarts really was going downhill, wasn't it? The WBA was building up at just the right time.

"Yes, yes, of course," Cinaed offered with a shake of his head.  After Gawain's murder, it was inevitable the WBA would be more public.  Even with his alibi, Raynor was liable to keep a closer watch on him.  His associations with those he had placed under cover, like Chris and Landis, would have to become even more discrete.  "I'm working to arrange discreet   meeting opportunities with the protegé's.  Hogsmeade weekends and during holidays.  I'll try to keep trips into the halls of Hogwarts to a minimum. It'd be a shame to get locked up for a bloody parole violation." 

No, direct involvement wasn't the best route with Landis.  At least not for the time being.  "Definitely, keep on the look out for potentials.  Also, occasionally playing interference if a sticky situation were to surface.  For example, there's a seventh year - Ava Grosvenor.  Her mother's a fabulous woman.  Quite remarkable."  Older, though she wore her age quite well.  Far more woman than her husband deserved, by the sounds of it.  "But, Ava's been helping me maintain an inside look at the school.  It was through her I was able to identify the potentials.  Of course, it would start to raise some rather uncomfortable questions if one were to begin to wise up to the fact that she's under someone's control."  Cinaed gazed pointedly at Landis, trusting him to connect the dots for himself. 

"Well, it seems as though new and young is the direction Hogwarts wants to go.  Their new Headmistress has never taught and isn't exactly of the older set." 

He shook his hand dismissively.  An incomplete map wouldn't worry him, too much.  If the need arose for a compete map of a certain area, Cinaed could request it.  He could also use Ava to fill holes.  The more information he had, the better, but that was something that could be developed over time.  Between Landis and Ava, the reasons he'd have to enter the grounds of the school should be few and far between.   

"Olivia Thursby was the name of the werewolf - there were a few articles in the Daily Prophet about that whole scandal.  The students who are involved, I don't know.  But, I could probably find out.  Really, that seems easy enough to address.  It's easy enough to stir trouble when it comes to werewolves.  Some may claim they care but, in the end, it wouldn't take much to stoke that fear."  As long as fear of werewolves was encouraged among the masses, the petty little feel-good group would remain just that.  A petty little group of students working to make themselves feel better. 

Cinaed rose to his feet to refreshen his drink and retrieve the flier about the muggle culture club.  He offered it to Landis before settling himself in his seat once more.  "The mudblood - some weak name like Sam or Sandy or ... no.  Sasha."  He shook his head.  "I don't know if he has support - certainly not amongst the Slytherin's I met.  The group hasn't started, yet."  It was very clear, things had grown even softer since his day.  Hopefully, with some proper direction, the damage could be reversed.  "I'm sure it'll be obvious, though.  And, by the sounds of it, easy to discourage."

"It would be," Landis agreed. Then, with a rueful smile, "Not to mention embarrassing."

He grasped the implications immediately. "Of course," he said to Cináed, frowning a little as he considered their options. "Yes, I know of her mother. Do you think it will be necessary at some point to strengthen your connection?" The Imperius curse was not infallible. Over time, or if the caster was distracted, it could easily weaken. Landis didn't mind recasting it on the girl, but then Tawse's influence would be compromised. While, theoretically, that shouldn't matter- they were both on the same side, after all- Landis wouldn't have allowed it himself. At the very least, they could give conflicting commands. But at the most dire, Landis could transport Ava Grosvenor to Cináed for further spell-casting. At the least, Landis could work to mire her unclouding mind with reminders of her servitude. "There is a spell that could be helpful here, involving the use of small items like pebbles or ribbons to amplify the effect of various spells over distance." It was an old, old spell, and very dark magic, the first of which was why Landis couldn't currently remember all its details. It had been used in centuries past for servants or serfs, as a way to enable complete servitude and loyalty. The downside was that the enchanted item would have to be kept constantly near, or on, the affected's body. Landis' voice lowered. "Perhaps Ms. Grosvenor likes jewelry?"

New and young- yes. "Fortunately so. I have very high hopes for the future of Hogwarts."

Landis drank some more as he listened, finishing off his glass and setting it down precisely on the floor next to his chair where it wouldn't be overturned. That name, Olivia Thursby, sounded only vaguely familiar, which Landis found unforgivable considering it'd been in the papers. He would have to go through the backlog of papers from that time immediately. "No, don't bother. I can find out just as easily once I begin working there." Tawse was right, it never took much to stoke hatred for the beasts. The muggleborn may rally for werewolf rights in their abject ignorance, but those from wizarding families were raised on the fear of the. Landis himself had never seen werewolves as anything but brutes. He considered this even as he took the flier from Cináed, even as he skimmed over it.

Sasha. That was a hideously mudblood sort of name, wasn't it? And a boy, too- how unfortunate for him, and vaguely reminiscent of Erin's misfortune in naming at the hands of their parents. Landis sneered at the flier. "I think this is the sort of thing I'd like to take a personal interest in."

An eyebrow arched curiously and Cinaed considered Landis a moment.  Embarrassing?  Was that a casual comment between like-minded comrades or was there a taunting jab in there?  More and more wand-bearing members of the purist community were joining the WBA and there was a tendency for one's ex-Azzie status (or lack thereof) to be used for or against someone.  He gave Landis the benefit of the doubt and nodded. 

"Fine woman, fine woman," Cinaed repeated, shaking his head.  It was proving easy for Cinaed to cough up any underlying deficiencies in the daughter to Persephone's husband.  Which there seemed to be too many of.  "It's a possibility," Cinaed said, nodding his head.  All Imperius Curses had the potential to wear with time - how long this current curse would need to be held was still unclear.  "But, the girl is remarkably weak, considering her parentage.  "But, if the need arises to restrengthen it, she can be brought to me for maintenance."  The idea that Landis would be the one to strengthen it hadn't even crossed Cinaed's mind - and wouldn't even have been considered had it done so.  "I'm less concerned about that than I am the potential of anyone growing suspicious - her her making anyone suspicious - if it does falter."  That would prove to be an unfortunate complication. 

Landis' suggestion was a good and solid one.  And, more importantly, seemed to be one that could be performed by another - Landis - for his benefit.  An important detail.  While Cinaed did, currently, possess a wand, he tried to keep his usage of it to a minimum.  "If it seems the girl would benefit from that, it might be advisable."

Amusement finally slid into Cinaed's features as he watched Landis process and respond to the flier in his hands.  Such things like that club were, in themselves, small and weak and almost negligible.  But, much more easily dealt with early.  It was much easier to defeat a dragon when it was still in its shell - no need to wait around for it to hatch and grow and get stronger.  He wasn't concerned about the group in the long run - he was perfectly content to leave it to Landis to take care of.  "Excellent.  I'll leave it to your judgment on how to deal with it."