Ever since the press release concerning the recall of her potions ingredients, Liadán had no time to relax or think of anything apart from business. The Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was sticking their nose into the situation- not that she particularly minded, but the more they were nosing around, the more likely they were to discover that she had a few not quite legal hobbies. Liadán was convinced that it was a fluke magical illness that would right itself with time... But while she was waiting, the disease was spreading from creature to creature, killing a livelihood that had taken generations to secure. And she was tired of angry owls, accusations, interviews, and business partnerships gone sour. Liadán was just tired in general. She needed a good nap, and a day where she didn't have to think about it or talk about it.

This was her first lunch in a week that didn't revolve around everything that was going on. Alberic Grimm had been a "friend" of hers for a while. The owl he had sent about meeting for lunch had been more than welcomed, and Liadán had quickly set up a date for the two to spend some time together and chat. Perhaps he could offer her some advice and condolences- she definitely needed both. As much as the shrew hated to admit it, what she really needed was a good cry and a hug. But Liadán Ó Móráin did not cry, and she sure as hell wasn't about to try to find someone who would let her hug them while she did it. Instead she would focus on other things to distract her. Like why in Godric's name it was so difficult to find shoes to match a green dress.

Eventually her outfit was settled, and Liadán was getting ready to travel by floo to the restaurant he had indicated. Mr. Grimm certainly had exquisite tastes in dining, and even some of the most unattractive places he'd led her to in the past had the most delicious food.

And now she was running late, because of those damned shoes. When Liadán finally appeared in the restaurant- at least ten minutes past the arranged time- she quickly used her wand to clean up and spotted Alberic waiting. "I am so very sorry I'm late, Mr. Grimm," she told him, allowing him to aid with her coat before smoothing out her hair and giving him one of the sweetest smiles her rotten soul could manage. Liadán considered excusing her tardiness, blaming it on her sex, but decided not to. Were he a business partner, Gregory, or Christian she might have.

The two were quickly ushered to a table, and Liadán was unsurprised when Alberic ordered her drink and as soon as the waiter was gone, she relaxed a bit more and allowed herself to take in her surroundings. He had brought her here before, and she remembered enjoying it very much. "I feel as though I'm gushing, but it truly is a relief to see a friendly face across the table. I've been scrutinized by everyone this week. It is so very tiresome. I'm afraid it is going to affect my health!" And her beauty. Liadán had not been blind to the slight circles that had been forming under her eyes, ones that were resistant to the few magical remedies she had for such a thing. At least all of this stress might aid her in losing the weight she had put on in November and December. (Not likely, considering that Liadán tended to overeat when being stressed. She should find a potion to curb her appetite before it got out of control.)

Perhaps, then, a salad might be in order, Liadán thought as she scanned the menu that had been placed before her. "Have you tried the salads?" she asked him, fidgeting with her dress a little. Even this one was getting to be a bit tight. Liadán was going to die a fat old maid it seemed.

While Alberic was not a beau of Ms. Ó'Móráin's, he was certainly a Date. And a regular one at that. It was not that Alberic was interested. She was pretty and eligible, certainly. But young. As it was, Alberic had no qualms about paying to have the company of a pleasant associate at an expensive lunch on a semi-regular basis. It was networking which, really, was what the rest of the world called friendship, he supposed.

Alberic did take an active interest in Ms. Ó'Móráin's life. When he had read about the recall and the farm's difficulties, he'd suggested lunch. It might take her mind off of things and while he would not insult her sensibilities by offering money, he would offer advice. Whether she realised he was doing so or no. Knowing her recent difficulties made it much easier to forgive her tardiness. Women could get away with that sort of thing more easily than men anyhow, and he smiled warmly as she entered, looking stunning as always.

Alberic, with the automatic motions of a man of goodbreeding (or at least a man accustomed to being among others of good breeding, most particularly ladies of society), slipped her coat off and offered it to the host. It was a necessary role of the Date's to do such things so that the lady did not need to associate herself with them. It was not that the help was so very beneath them on the scale of humanity, but rather in the Order of things. Degrees of removal were necessary and, to these delicate, sweet-smelling creatures of society, it was also rather flattering.

He allowed her to follow the host to the table, pulling out her seat before settling himself and browsing over the menu. The smile, a bit thin-lipped, returned as she mentioned salads. He was about to praise them himself. Alberic was not one to judge, of course -- such things were for people who believed themselves in need of distinguishing themselves above others, rather than feeling secure in their own situation -- but Liadán, it appeared, had added a bit more curve to her figure. It could not help the rumours he'd heard about her pregnancy.

"The salads here are excellent. I am more than partial to the spinach basalmico," he noted, trailing a long, slender finger over the menu as he browsed for his own choice of meal. "The pear and ricotta salad is also a good choice."

This said, he now addressed the less straightforward of her comments. He spoke with a soft precision. "The public will tire of being tiresome soon enough," he said with a bit of a smirk. "Some fiasco, some scandal or other will, I am certain, distract them in no little time." He knew women impartial to gossip. "Knowing some of our society," he said vaguely, "we won't be long without either." What Alberic did not say, however, was that while the public might tire of being tiresome, creditors, business partners, and patrons never would. He frowned slightly, regarding her situation. Miss Ó'Móráin was clever and shrewd. It was likely that she was already very aware of this fact. No need to bring it up, then.

"A spirit of contrition," he said, "I think is the best recipe for disaster. People love a sinner. They love a penitent one even more. They get the luxury of being right and the assurance of improvement. It is a heavy recipe, I am afraid, but a good one." He'd leave it at that. If she wished to speak more about it, she would. "I myself," he said, a glint in his eye, "am glad you are here; I have not had anything interesting happen in the past week and could very much appreciate some live company."

Liadan nodded, staring at the small selection of salads on the menu. What she really wanted was a steak- medium well, and lots of starch on the side. And then dessert- something with chocolate and icecream. But she did not need it. "I'm not a fan of pears," she said simply. "I will try the spinach basalmico, then. Your tastes have never led me astray before, Mr. Grimm." Liadan folded the menu and set it aside, focusing her attention as he began to address her current situation with the farm.

The public never tired of being tiresome, Liadan thought. They thrived on scandal and any excuse to talk about someone. They might get distracted, but they would not forget or let her forget it either. It was going to take years to build things back up not only to where they used to be, but for people to trust her ingredients again. And now she was going to have werewolf issues on her hands. Apparently her ingredients were used in wolfsbane potions- and it seemed that more than a few potions had failed given the rise in werewolf attacks that were reported this full moon. It was merely speculation, but it was also only a matter of time before others had the same speculations.

"I can ony hope that I am able to recover from such a loss. It will take a very long time to even rebuild my herds- much longer to repair the damage done to my reputation and the reputation of my business. It has taken years to gain the trust of the public in O Morain Farms after what my father did to the place." She sighed quietly, visibly pouting as she began to twist a lock of hair around her finger. "It just isn't fair. I have worked so hard to fix everything, Mr. Grimm. I hired new staff, I changed company protocol, I even gave everyone a salary increase. I worked hard to fix the bad press, and people were beginning to trust and have faith in what I had to offer... All for nothing." And the worst part was she did not know why. And nobody could tell her why.

"And I would take the fault if I knew what had happened. There is no way to have a press release, confessing my own guilt, if I cannot even report what caused the illness... But let's not talk business, Mr. Grimm. It depresses me. There is more to my life right now than business. At least, I want there to be." Parties were usually a good distraction. So was Gregory when he wasn't be insufferable and handsy.

When Alberic stated he'd had nothing exciting happen, Liadan smiled, and almost laughed. "Nothing interesting, in the grand life of Alberic Grimm? Come now, I find that difficult to believe. Since when does the mysterious Mr. Grimm find himself without interest in his life? No new projects to work on, or beasties to chase after?" She did not miss his play on words. Live company was definitely something he didn't get much experience with. Being a necromancer made life lonely, Liadan supposed. But so did being a pureblood who was so busy trying to take care of business you had little time for anything else. "So you've been keeping company with projects instead of people this week?" she asked, sipping her drink. "You must be desperate. A handsome man like you has no reason for that. I'm certain you've plenty of women and friends to entertain you if you're that lonely. No need to talk to skeletons, is there?"

Alberic gave a short nod in acknowledgement of the compliment. Alberic only spoke --or only really enjoyed speaking-- when he knew what he was talking about. It was fortunate, really, he had legillimancy. He knew almost everything. And he knew for a fact the spinach basalmico was fantastic. But he knew other things, too. Like how to turn a soul into a substance. How to gather memories from ravens. How to turn to shadow, how to -- well, one could hardly list them all.

His next words were more cautious. He did not know how to fix Liadan's troubles. But he did not want to acknowledge this outright. "Your work has not been all for nothing." He frowned a little, considering. "You've become a shrewd woman of business with a keen eye for opportunity and diplomacy. You'll need those skills now. You could not have acquired them without your prior work." There. That sounded reassuring enough; and Alberic meant it. "Do let me know if there is anything I can help with. Perhaps you would like me to come to the farm to take a look? Perhaps the curses have not been properly identified or detected?" He would suggest Level Two for that, but really, that would not be as alluring as the thought of himself.

Her last comment -- inviting distraction -- was misleading. It was asking for a particular set of questions. Alberic had thought himself particularly adept at reading the gentler sex, but it sounded very much as though she wanted him to inquire about his dating life. Particularly as she drew attention to his own. He did not see any lack of activity as being related to women or dating at all. In fact, dating was not even an activity. It did not make one busy in a productive way. It did not fulfill anything, really, except an image. And really, his being handsome and single had nothing to do with desperation.

He simply didn't care.

And he didn't care to care, either.

He gave a smile, placating sort of smile. They'd not discussed such things in their relationship. Theirs was strictly a business-social-friendship-necromancer alliance. It stayed in that realm entirely. He was not looking to make the breach now, either in inquiring about her state of affairs in her amorous designs or becoming something of one himself. Liadán was a beautiful, engaging individual of exquisite taste. But she was too young. And it would be a waste to tie her down to something like romance.

And so, he did what he thought prudent: he did not talk about her. Not in the way she wanted. He talked about himself, addressing the last question indirectly. He closed his menu. "Ah. I have been forgetful," he considered. Something interesting did happen. A bit of work. Not this week, but since last we spoke. It happened last Monday. The fifth. It is particularly interesting, because it is something I have never encountered before." He leaned forward a bit, raising his eyebrows to engage her more fully in his web of words. "It is intensely sophisticated and really," he said, making his tone stiffer, more formal, more disapproving, "quite unacceptable." He relished this moment. It was the moment of withholding. Miss Ó Móráin sat there, not knowing. He did. It was beautiful moments like this that glittered like smooth, polished pebbles in his pocket at the end of the day.

"A live possession."

Normally, Alberic did not speak about voodoo in public. But really, this was work. It was, however, quite fortunate that both Liadan and Alberic had had an interest in the topic beforehand. While not precisely necromancy, it was a bit of dark magic that didn't require either party to be dead. Living could exert influence on the living.

"You really are too kind in your observations, Mr. Grimm. Though I certainly hope what you say is true. I need whatever skills I've manage to cultivate. I have faith, in the end, that things will work themselves out." When he offered to come and take a look, she hesitated momentarily. Though she and Alberic were friends and enjoyed a lot of the same magical activities, but if he stumbled across something on the farm that was less than legal, would he go running to the aurors? He worked for the ministry, it could certainly be a conflict of interests.

"I'm certain you've got plenty of more important things to do than come poke around my farm," she told him. "But if you believe you could help, I certainly will not turn you down. I am surprised it is taking so long. They've done enough tests and spells and research to have figured it out, one would think." Liadan sighed dramatically, and focused her eyes at the ceiling. "It must be a grand mystery. Perhaps I need someone looking for something that isn't common among creatures. Perhaps it has nothing to do with them at all..."

She perked when he mentioned something interesting happening, and couldn't help but to lean in as well when he came closer, feeling as though he was about to divulge some grand secret. The rise of his brows drew her in, and when he mentioned it being sophisticated he paused. Did he think that perhaps she was not capable of understanding or appreciating the news? "Come now, Mr. Grimm, don't tease me," she chided, impatient for whatever he had to tell her. And luckily she did not have long to wait.

And she was certainly not disappointed. "Really?" she was obviously intrigued. "Did you have anything to do with it?" Liadan asked, "or was it totally unrelated to your personal talents? Come now, you can't just leave it there, tell me more! I'm certain it had to be quite fascinating." And even if it was something that might be top secret, Liadan was determined to pull it out of him. She was good at keeping secrets, and this type of happening was in line with the things she studied in her spare time. And, if it did turn out that Alberic knew how to pull such a thing off, he was going to teach her.

Alberic was quite pleased with how this conversation was going. He had an attentive, attractive audience. Clever, too. He could share particulars with her. He had yet to turn in his report to Level Two. "I cast the fellow out," Alberic said, dismissively. It was not his accomplishments, this time, that he wished to praise. He would first examine the behaviour of Katsaros. Then he'd illuminate the shortcomings of Adon Eleor and Jonas Trevelyan. "The possessor is from the Middle East. Israeli, perhaps. Their magic is, naturally, of a darker, more mystic nature. I can only assume that it is the more devious exploration that seems to grip the culture as a whole that made such a feat possible. The possessee," he said, with a bit of an amused smile, "was my nephew. Dreogan Eleor, the elder. He was doing some sort of scrying for the individual and, having found him, was unprepared to deal with him." He fidgeted with the edge of his napkin. "To his credit," he added carefully, "Dreogan Eleor put up the most admirable resistance I've seen post-possession before. He must have extensive training, however foolish he was to make himself vulnerable as he did."

"The possessor," he added, "has done it before. At least once that I know of. My legilimency revealed at least that." He tilted his chin as he contemplated her expression. Definitely interested. "We can talk more particulars--" such as asking if she knew at Katsaros, "later. Perhaps when next I visit the farm?"

And it seemed a farm visit was in order. He listened to Liadan's complaints. "They've done enough tests and spells and research to have figured it out, one would think."

"They?" Alberic echoed, a smile curling his lips. "I hope it's not Aurors you are talking about; though I wouldn't be surprised." He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "I worked with a couple last week," he waved his hand in the air, dismissing questions and the need for more details. "The same case I was telling you about. The possession." He once more smiled conspiratorily. "And would you believe, they actually hindered the investigation." He shook his head in disappointment, leaning back in his seat. "What is more, it was my own nephew. And that investigator," Alberic emphasized, rich with irony, "Jonas Trevelyan."

He paused, turning over the menu and looking up in frustration at the absence of waiter. His water glass was still empty. In a little bit, he might be dissatisfied. "I hope, Miss Ó Móráin," he said, fingers rolling the stem of the glass between his fingers now, eyes still raking the restaurant, "that you do not let that sort of individual on the farm. You need people you can trust." He refocussed his gaze upon her. "Though I have no doubt you exercise judgment. It is situations like this that force us into situations against our better judgment." And, as though the power had been given to him, he said, "I will see what I can do about Level Two. Is there a day in particular you'd like me to come by the farm?"

"Well that was incredibly anticlimatic," she pouted. "You just cast him out and that was that?" Liadan was hoping for some gruesome tale, which did not happen. "If the particulars aren't anymore exciting, then I'm not sure how much I can indulge you, Mr. Grimm. The tale of a possession should be much more dramatic, one would think. Though if you'd like to discuss the particular on how such a thing is accomplished, I would be more than glad to hear that. It could supplement the knowledge I already have on the subject." Which was scant. Her information was restricted mostly to languages she couldn't understand, or vague mentions in the books she had on vodun.

Liadan shook her head. "No, the aurors have yet to get involved. There is no foul play- nothing illegal going on. The regulation and control of magical creatures has been poking around. The head of the beast division came out a couple of times. Pompous old man- he had the audacity to ask me out on a date! I told him right away that would never happen. Far too rough around the edges for a lady such as myself, not to mention the multitude of other flaws I'm certain I could come up with if I cared to try." And he wasn't even handsome, and far from professional in Liadan's opinions.

Her attention was, however, entirely diverted at the mention of Jonas Trevelyan. She scowled. "Is that so? Are you aware, Mr. Grimm, that late last year Mr. Trevelyan visited my farm? He was snooping around about some stolen dagger... Impersonated an auror, he did. Flashing off a badge at my house elves. They would never have let him through the door if he hadn't claimed to be an auror. I wrote to the ministry about it and they ignored my letter. Acted as though it was no grave offense to impersonate an auror. Now I can see why they would ignore it. What on earth would possess them to send someone like him to spy on me. As if I were stupid enough to do anything illegal in my own home where some investigator could nose around and find it!" She was truly offended at the thought, and Jonas Trevelyan was going to pay for what he had done. Now that she knew why, she would take matters into her own hands.

"The horrible old man harassed me for weeks." It was an exaggeration, to be sure, but Alberic need not know that. "He even followed me to a fitting on evening! As though I am naive enough to divulge any of my secrets or contacts to him. Especially as insulting and obnoxious as that man is." Exactly what Liadan was going to do to get even was beyond her. But the fact that he pretended to be so innocent, claiming he wasn't working with any aurors... "He will get what's coming to him, I can assure you of that Mr. Grimm. Harassing a lady who has no reason to be harassed, telling lies to get into my house... Coming to my house at all. Some edits to the magical charms around my house are in order I believe. I don't want anyone who isn't a friend on my property any longer. I'll have it out with the ministry before it's over. They can conclude their investigation about what has happened and be on their way. They're too incompetent to do things, so I will take matters into my own hands."

Liadan sighed in frustration, crossing her arms childishly across her chest. "They just won't leave me alone! I haven't set one toe out of line since I've taken over, yet they insist that because of my name and my father that I am as evil as he is! My livelihood is at stake and they do not show the slightest amount of compassion. One less pureblood nuisance is what they would consider me- though I haven't done a thing to cause them any trouble! There must be laws against harassing civilians!"

She put a dramatic hand to head. "Oh any day is fine really, Mr. Grimm, so long as you owl ahead in advance." Lest he catch her in the midst of something she'd rather not be caught doing. "I go to Gringotts every Thursday to make deposits and manage my finances. Weekends I generally am socializing- though there are fewer parties this time of the year. So really, whenever is most convenient for you, I can work it into my schedule with ease."