More effective than any muggle alarm, it was the large sable shepherd that noticed the Auror's arrival first.  Keeping Baldur with her while she was at work had been Jacoba's primary safety precaution.  It wasn't really her dog - it was, unquestioningly Sasha's - but with him at school the dog had had to go somewhere.  Adon and Jacoba's flat had turned out to be that somewhere. 

Keeping the dog with her for 'security' had been Sasha's strong recommendation.  The dog had helped him overpower the intruder and escape his parent's house alive.  Jacoba was skeptical the dog would do the same for her - she was just the feeder until Sasha was on holiday - but he'd been, understandably, overprotective.  Now, with his other half-sister murdered, it was even worse. 

Not to mention, keeping the dog with her meant less time Adon spent alone with the dog in the flat. 

Despite Sasha's insistence, Jacoba was fairly confident the dog wouldn't be any match for someone actually using magic.  He did, however, make it much harder for someone to sneak up on Jacoba.  There were lots of ways witches and wizards could conceal themselves against visual detection - there were apparently spells and clothing and other ways to make them harder to see.  Apparently, they didn't put as much effort into avoiding detection by sound or - ever more so - by scent. 


The shepherd was likely, by now, a familiar (though maybe not welcome) sight for the auror just as the auror was a familiar sight for the dog.  Even before Jacoba looked from the dog to the auror, she knew the newcomer was, likely, friendly - even if not a friend. 

"Tilly's not coming in today," Jacoba offered Roh as she turned back to the stack of invoices.  "She's getting things ready for Three Owl's show up at Hogwarts tomorrow.  The coffee's fresh." 

Routine visit to Reducto Records also served as a one-stop shop to see to her two protective custody wards: Jacoba Schlagenweit and Matilda Quinn, who'd both been targets of violence and threads this winter.  Zora got periodic memos from the Muggle Liason office, but it was mostly legalese to do with the weight of family influence, measurements of their 'magical society integration' and other such caveats and addendums that justified them being who they were here in magical society.  As if the world didn't have plenty of space for their kind.

But Quinn wasn't here?

"Damnit.  Rather have not made another trip," Zora grumbled as she navigated through the racks and shelves to the more open area with the counter and some seating.  It looks as if there was room enough for small concerts in here - Zora tried to remember if she'd heard of it.

Zora spared that giant dog of theirs a glance and smiled.  He was a fine-looking fellow and actually made Zora feel a tiny bit better about Jacoba and Tilly's chances against the world.  Baldur had a mention in the case file; Sasha'd testified to the dog doing some real damage to Ashford before the end.  She moved her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and dropped a packet of papers down on the counter.

"From the Muggle Liason Office, Miss Muggle," Zora declared, identifying the paperwork.  "They want more from you yet and they fancy me a courier.  I'm not sure why they don't just owl them to you - not as if you're an idiot and can't sort out how to let an owl in." 

That could have been one of the nicer things Zora had said to Jacoba in their short relationship - that she was not an idiot.  But then, Jacoba was earning that kind of glowing praise.  It finally seemed as though she was taking all of this seriously.  Perhaps it was the good influence her crazy little brother who was as jittery and frail as a naked squirrel.  Now that kid understood the dangerous world he was traversing, or so Zora had evaluated.

"I think they're still confused about your living situation.  Feckifiknow."

Zora clearly wasn't in a hurry, the middle-aged Auror, leaning both elbows on the counter, considering the coffee. 

"Damnit.  Rather have not made another trip."

"Leider, daß ich Sie enttäuscht habe." Jacoba said, quietly, to the stack of papers. 

Despite the subtly of the Auror's smile, Baldur seemed to take the gesture as an invitation.  The dog pushed himself to his feet and, after a long stretch, walked over to the Auror.  Jacoba glanced up, once more, from the invoices to watch the dog as he lowered his neck and let his ears droop lazily to the side and reached his nose out to sniff the other woman's hand.  At least someone in the shop could be counted upon to be excited about the Auror's regular visits. 

"More?" Jacoba sighed and slid the stack of invoices to the side, straightening them as she did so.  "What now?"  She couldn't recall her father ever having to do this much paperwork when they first arrived in Britain.  And, at the end of it all, he'd at least earned citizenship in exchange.  Jacoba couldn't shake the feeling that all her questionnaires were earning her was a stay of deportation.  "Yeah, well, an owl biting my finger was my introduction to you people.  I thought it was just some weird cult ritual but I think I've figured that much out, by now."  For whatever reason, when Sasha had decided to finally write her back in September, he'd decided not to beat around the bush.  He'd sent the letter on parchment, delivered by an owl. 

One glance over the form suggested Jacoba might want to consider coffee herself.  Leaving the paperwork on the counter, she moved to the back table and poured some water into the awaiting french press.  In the absence of electricity, the little press had been a convenient solution to the absence of a coffee pot.  The British affinity for tea was one of many local customs her family had never actually adopted. 

"How can they be confused?" she asked, shaking her head as she turned back towards Roh as the coffee brewed, rubbing her forehead.  "It's not that complicated.  I'm crashing at a flat in a wizarding apartment building that's, decidedly, in muggle London.  It's all of four blocks from my father's office."  The irony of that was, unfortunately, probably completely lost on the Auror.  "But, as I understand, all that paperwork's been submitted.  What more is there?" 

A touch of cold and wet caused Zora to pull her hand away, only to look down and see the dark snout of Baldur nudging at her.   She sank her fingers into his neck ruff and gave him a good scratch behind the ears.  "Good lad, Baldur..." 

As Jacoba complained and made coffee, Zora just stayed put for the time being.  Jacoba could complain all she wanted, but the fact remained that there was a very easy way to avoid all of this hassle and that was to get back to her own people.  But that was implicit in every single one of their interactions, and so not worth brining up at the moment.  And the Muggle Liason Office could dance as many little jigs as it pleased, but Zora wasn't going to help them make sense of anything.  They could give her bundles to deliver, but she wasn't going to make any great effort to ensure they were filled out, nor returned to the Ministry with any expediency.  Zora was just there to make sure everyone stayed intact.  Muggles, little brothers, squibs and little bitty babies.  (Baldur didn't need Zora's help.)

She straightened up and scoffed, however, when Jacoba marveled at what could be throwing the MLO for a loop.  Wasn't it obvious? 

"Oh come on, Miss Muggle," she said with impatient condescension, "you're not just crashing at a flat.  You've gone domestic with a wizard."  Maybe in Jacoba's strange borderworld between insanity and Diagon, the fact that she was sleeping with an Auror was something that happened every day and the snozzberries tasted like snozzberries.  But here, in the real world, that was a dragon of a different color.  That complicated things.

"Eleor's more or less told me what you two consider 'crashing at a flat'.  You could at least be more subtle until all of this blows over, you know.  But then, can't blame you - you don't know any better.  He's the mugglefu-."

She cut herself sharply.  That kind of language was not for the public, and Adon would throw a little fit if he ever heard Roh call him that.

"That coffee ready?"

Jacoba's shoulders sank as she stared incredulously across the counter at the Auror scratching the dog.  The Auror- the woman would use the dog's name when speaking to him and Jacoba remained 'Miss Muggle.'  Jacoba opened her mouth to comment but thought better of it and let mouth fall closed again with a deep sigh. 

With a slight shake of her head, Jacoba turned and displaced her annoyance on the french press' plunger as she pushed the coffee grounds to the bottom of the carafe.  The Auror's elaboration on the MLO's confusion didn't brighten Jacoba's mood. 

"I've gone domestic?"  Jacoba turned back towards the woman her jaw dropped slightly.  Jacoba had been called many things over the years - most of them less than pleasant - but, domestic was a new one.  Did having the same roof over her  head for more than three months at a stretch and a room to actually call her own constitute going domestic in this woman's world?  "What are you playing at?  He's more or less told you what, exactly?" 

What notions had this woman gotten in her head?  For all the weeks this woman had been supervising the shop, she sure didn't get the situation, did she?  "He took me in and gave me a place to stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go," Jacoba told the woman, tersely, her patience wearing thin.  "Yes, we're dating.  That's all there -." 

Jacoba froze, staring at the Auror.  She wasn't an idiot.  It wasn't difficult to complete that sentence.  "The mugglefucker?" Jacoba repeated, still not quite believing she'd heard what she heard.  "I wish," was the first response to trickle to the surface.  She could feel her heart beating sporadically against her chest, spurred on by a boost of adrenaline.  Slowly, Jacoba leaned over her side of the counter, resting herself on her elbows to look squarely across at the shorter woman.  "What?  Jealous?" she asked, though no humor colored her voice. 

"Do you have any idea what you sound like.  With a few minor substitutions, you'd sound just like my grandfather.  That's not a compliment."  Jacoba poured two cups of coffee, setting one of them on the counter near Zora but just far enough away the woman would have to make a deliberate stretch for it.  "I swear," Jacoba leaned her head back and mused as much to herself in dismay as she pushed herself up on the back counter.  "This has got to be some sort of karmic retribution." 

Shite and jelly, she had heard that one before.  Damnitall.  It was a very unkind word, and Zora immediately wished she hadn't said it.  Not because it wasn't true but because it was probably the coarsest way to describe the silliness between Eleor and Jacoba.  It could be worth a dressing down back at HQ if she reported it.  Aurors were supposed to put their personal politics aside when dealing with the public - especially the controversial bits of the public. 

She stood back with her arms crossed and a hard smirk on her face to take whatever the muggle would defend her own honor with.  But hold the owl...!  Zora's face twisted up into a look that combined horror, indignation and laughter.

"Jealous! Jealous? Don't you-! You're barking up the wro-hong tree, sister," she said, holding up a hand and moseying away from the counter a few paces.  Even if Zora wasn't living a married life with another woman, having mothered a child with her, being jealous of a woman who was dating Adon Eleor? Ugh! The notion was so outlandish that it had given Zora a giant pause.  It was just... Eleor? Oh for Merlin's sake...!

"If this is karma, then I'll bet we're both paying for something.  Accio coffee."

Zora summoned the coffee cup towards her with her wand, only a couple of drops running dark lines down the side of the cup before it reached her. 

"Honestly, though," she paused to sip, "unless you marry him, no one's going to be able to wrap their heads around whatever it is the two of you are up to.  Probably easier paperwork for everyone honestly because then there's no question that you're allowed.   Not that I'm saying you'll stop getting rocks through the window..."

Score: Auror - 0; Jacoba - 1

A broad, satisfied smirk tugged up one corner of Jacoba's mouth as she watched the Auror's own smirk dissolve into a look of sheer incredulity.  It wasn't an apology but it would do for the time being. 

"The wrong tree?" Jacoba repeated back, a single eyebrow arched curiously.  That one statement had been the most personal comment the Auror had ever made in Jacoba's presence.  Apparently, it took startling the woman into dumbfoundedness for her to join the rest of the lowly humans on planet Earth.  "Wow.  Is that so?  Let me guess, your muggleborn, too?"  Jacoba couldn't help being curious about exactly how far Roh's hypocrisy went. 

"Honestly, though, unless you marry him, no one's going to be able to wrap their heads around whatever it is the two of you are up to. 

Jacoba opened her mouth, but for once she had no quip or smart comeback at the ready. It took a quick sip of the still very hot coffee for her to gather her thoughts and put them in some semblance of order.  "How can it be that complicated?" Jacoba asked, raising her empty hand in bafflement.  "Don't people in your world date?  Or, should they only date their kind?  I'm sorry - separate but equal doesn't work."

With a frustrated sigh, Jacoba shook her head, leaning across the counter to look at the Auror more fully, her eyes narrowed.  "You're not a purist but purebloods shouldn't screw muggles, is that it?  So, - do you have an official acceptable blood percentage?  I mean, is a halfblood and a muggleborn alright but not muggleborn and a muggleborn?  You know, my grandparents and great grandparents made up these nifty charts to help clarify what was allowed and what wasn't."

Zora just rolled her eyes and shook her head in a nearly imperceptible  'no' when Jacoba tried guessing at what grove of trees Zora had referred to in her outburst.  Zora didn't discuss her family with the public, as a rule.

She sipped her coffee as Jacoba took the time to obviously gloat over her little victory.  Fine, let her have it, Zora thought, secretly amused as well.  The Eleor joke had been funny. 

But quickly things turned back to work, and more of Jacoba's silly twenty-something, know-it-all circle-talk.  Separate but equal? Really.  Had the muggle yet to be introduced to the most basic and most influential aspect of her relationship to the wizarding world: The Statute of Secrecy? Separate but equal was the foundation of their entire existence.  Starting from when the muggles decided to start killing witches.  This muggle was too cheeky for her trousers, talking like she knew anything? She'd only come through the Leaky this morning! She was fresh in this world and already she was passing judgement.

"Now you listen to me," she said, her voice dropping low and taking a few steps closer to Jacoba at the counter.  "You're new here, so you get a pass.  But you're in another world - our world.  Your presumptions about us - and don't think I don't know what you're talking about - are a child's ranting tantrum.  Our secret keeps us alive.  You need to be handled.  Carefully.  Because you don't know anything. Eleor's being reckless, but you're being arrogant.  You're in Rome.  You're a guest.  Your rights last only so far as our hospitality.  If you want to be here - exist in our world, then marry him.  We don't do tourists."

She straighted up, her face hard, and with a tap of her wand, she warmed up her coffee.  A lick of steam told the tale as she brought the cup again to her lips.

"This isn't about me!"  Jacoba breathed in frustration and exasperation.  She didn't understand how this women couldn't see it.  The inequality - the damage of the current system.  This wasn't really that much about her.  Or, rather, it was but ...

Jacoba set her coffee cup down on the counter and ran her fingers of both hands through her hair.  She wasn't quite sure how, exactly, to articulate everything.  It was complicated - being here, this whole transition.  This whole situation was unreal in every facet but it seemed Zora was persistently overlooking a very important point. 

"This isn't about Adon," she insisted, dropping her hands and staring across the counter at the woman.  "Yes, I care about him and I love being with him.  And, I guess now I - I obviously stay with him because of that.  But, if it was just him, I'd be just as happy working in the muggle world."  If, of course, she could find work.  That, ultimately, was how she ended up working here at Reducto.  With the global recession as it was, jobs weren't exactly a dime a dozen.  She'd pounded the pavement for several weeks trying to find employment in the muggle world before Tilly had offered here the job here.  "I'm here-"  In this shop.  In the wizarding world.  In this situation.  "-for my brother.  I don't get how you can't see it." 

Jacoba leaned against the counter to peer across at the older woman.  "I don't want your pass," she said, matching Zora's lower tone.  "My brother and I - we're all the family we've got left.  When I said separate but equal doesn't work, I wasn't referring to muggles and wizards.  Our worlds aren't separate - that's what those purists hate muggleborns for.  As long as you stand there and tell me my brother's not able to share his life and his world with his family as freely as any fucking pureblood kid, you can not stand there and tell me you aren't supporting a purist system.  I know how this dance is played.  I love being with Adon, yes but we could break up tomorrow and I'd still be here.  I'll leave when my brother asks me to."

Slowly, Jacoba shook her head as she stood up straight and crossed her arms across her chest.  "And, I'm not going to be bullied into marrying someone by you or anyone else just so that I can have some golden ticket to be a part of my brother's life.  If I marry Adon, it will be for no other reason than because I want to.  You people and your world won't factor in in the slightest."

The gold braid on Zora's sleeve flashed and in a second, her wand was leveled at Jacoba Schlagenwiet's chest.  Her face showed the dispassion of an Auror with over a decade of service, of a witch who didn't bluff.

Up on the wall in the corner where one might not notice was a small lantern.  It detected magic spells and enchantments and if dumped out into the appropriate potion would show the spells cast and by what sort of wand.  It was there for Schlagenweit and Quinn's protection.  Monitor any magic that might be cast in the shop.  Just a precaution.  It wasn't an alarm by any means.  And it say when or who - just if and what.[1]  But it would pick up what Zora was about to do, so what she chose would have to be... mundane.

She spoke down the length of her arm and the shaft of her wand.  "I don't care about your brother.  I care about keeping you alive.  If I don't have your cooperation, you're a wand and a whisper away from some very horrible sorts of death."

And to send her point home, "Levicorpus Collum!" [2] Her wand flashed and the spell settled into Jacoba in a heartbeat.  And as Zora lifted her arm, Jacoba went with it, rising up off the counter by her neck until her feet were a foot over the counter.

1.	The Siphon Light Wiki Article
2.	The body-levitating charm, but by the neck, not the ankle.

Jacoba froze, her gaze traveling down the smooth stick to the woman wielding it.  She didn't have a lot of personal experience to go off of as far as what one of those things could do to their target.  Well - she'd seen some of the possibilities.  She'd seen Adon accidentally shatter a glass.  And, the various spells she'd seen cast around Diagon.  She knew just enough to be wary of the pointed weapon - but not enough to fully comprehend the full spectrum of possibilities. 

"How do you not have my cooperation?"  Jacoba heatedly replied.  "I'm filling out the stupid-"  Before she could finish the sentence, upward pressure on her neck elongated her spine and pulled her, quickly from the ground.  She winced and her eyes flew shut as she felt her mind start to spiral into a reflexive panic triggered by the pressure at her throat. 

She reached up to grapple at whatever had her suspended.  But, of course, her hands closed on nothing.  There was nothing tangible around her neck - nothing to grab hold of.  She only then became aware of the loud barking; it drew her attention away from the invisible bind and down to where the woman stood, wand still raised.  Baldur had moved back a few steps from the Auror but the sudden display of violence had set the dog on alert. 

"Put me down.  Pass Auf!" Jacoba first breathed down at the woman and then commanded to the dog who continued barking, the barks now interspersed with deep, throaty growls.  To her surprise, she found her voice entirely intact.  "Now," she added, more in full tone.  "Or, he'll make you.  And, I'd rather you didn't end up killing my brother's dog." 

Again, she glared down at the woman.  "Are you waiting for me to promise to be meek, silent and passive and never step a toe out of my rightful place?  If so, that's not going to happen."

"Always with her cheek," Zora marveled out loud to herself.  It was so impossible to fathom that a person could be so recklessly stupid.  Perhaps she'd just as well wander into a giants' village and demand a small chair be made for her? "Should have silenced her as well..."

And then Baldur started in.  Zora whipped her head around to lay eyes on the dog who was in full alert, hackles raised, teeth bared.   Zora had to keep her wand leveled to maintain the Levicorpus and she was no warlock who could cast a second spell with a look or word or wave of her hand. 

The idiot muggle's tired grandstanding never ceased, and Zora's pity began to creep into her anger at the insolent young woman.  Nothing Zora had said had made it into the brain.  All that youthful know-it-all waste had washed all sense away. She thought this was about behaving and making nice? This was about her safety and the saftety of all the witches and wizards who survived by the secrecy of a separated society.  These muggles on the fringe threatened everything - especially those of them who thought they knew better.

Zora wasn't afraid of the dog - she knew she was fast enough to drop Schlagenweit and cast Impedimenta on Baldur.  She was a bloody Auror, of course.

"Are you waiting for me to promise to be meek, silent and passive and never step a toe out of my rightful place?  If so, that's not going to happen."

"Someone's going to kill you," she said with an apathetic shake of her head.  "It won't be me.  But I'll be pinned for it, of course.  It's my job to keep an eye on you, so no matter was stupid flouncing around you get up to, it'll still be my fault.  I hope someone does try and kill you because maybe then you'll believe me.  This isn't politics.  This is the real world."

Zora lowered her wand to her side and the spell stopped.  Not concerned about the muggle's short trip down, Zora turned her back to the counter and strode over to where the little magical lantern hung way up in the corner.  She summoned it down, opened the little door and tamped it against her hand to shake out all the firey little ashes and glittery sparkles inside.  They fell onto the ground and she ground them out with her boot.

For as quick as Roh was to criticize her cheek, she still didn't offer much of an answer to Jacoba's question.  Jacoba's obvious frustration aside, the question had been an honest and legitimate one.  As far as Jacoba could tell, she had done everything the Auror had asked though, granted, she hadn't done it as silently as the other woman might have liked.  If there was something more - or less - she was supposed to be doing, it was lost on her.  Jacoba certainly didn't think she knew it all - but, in the absence of clarification, there was only so much she could do.

Her feet met ground and Jacoba quickly stumbled backwards, leaning against the back counter.  She was humiliated, angry and frustrated.   She had the presence of mind to call out to the dog: "Fuß!" as she took several, long deep breaths and the dog backed away from the woman, circling around the counter to Jacoba's side.  "I don't understand what you want from me," Jacoba half coughed, rubbing at the base of her neck with one hand. 

But Jacoba was vaguely aware that the woman had moved away from the counter.  She hoped that meant the woman was leaving.  When Jacoba finally looked up, a hand still against her throat, the Auror was still there - putting out the lantern.  "What...are you doing?"  Jacoba didn't fully understand what the lantern did, but she knew it was there for their protection.  She looked from the lantern to the woman.  "Isn't it supposed to be lit?"  Somehow, Jacoba suspected touching a match the wick wouldn't achieve the effects the lantern was supposed to have. 

Back to Jacoba, Zora ignored her youthful protestations of not knowing what was being asked of her.  For better or for worse, Zora didn't have ears for Jacoba so long as she was at the same time professing to know better than hundreds of years of peaceful co-existence and in the same breath claim ignorance.  Culture shock wasn't very much fun.  You could either flail around and make a fool of yourself, or you could listen to the locals when they tell you you're behaving out of line.  She just shook her head, and used her wand to relight the lantern.

Turning back, she was relieved to see Schalgenweit had called off the hero dog Baldur.  Frankly, for all the effort Jacoba was going through to earn a black spot, her work with that dog were extremely productive.  In the right lighting he could be a bloody grim.  Zora raised an eyebrow at it.  That was not a happy thought.

"It's magic," she said with a false, perky smile.  "Don't bother your muggle head about it.  Glad we had this talk, though.   I don't know if you've ever been on that side of a wand, but now you have - and I was being nice.  You've got a lot of crazytalk for me and I'm just trying to educate.  So go ahead - keep up your crazytalk, and I'll continue to be nice.  But remember, it's my job to protect you, but the big world out there isn't under any such obligation.  Rail and tantrum against me all you want, but I'm not your enemy.  I'm your only bloody friend in the world.  'kay?"

Yet again, the woman refused to offer an answer.  Jacoba couldn't help but wonder if the persistent refusal to offer an answer was because one didn't exist.  Or, if the woman just enjoyed belittling Jacoba too much to consider giving her any tools to - heaven forbid - succeed. 

"You're clearly not going to actually listen to anything I say," Jacoba said, frowning as pulled the ridiculous paperwork back to her.  "Which is really quite unfortunate.  I'd actually love to have an earnest conversation with you to better understand where you're coming from but it's clear you have no interest in understanding where I'm coming from.  And, you seem too distracted by insulting and derogating me to even bother considering the situation.   Which, to me, seems like it'd be important information to any investigator.  Given how undedicated you are to the assignment, I can't help wondering how much safer I really am with you than without you." 

She slid the completed paperwork back across the counter to the woman.  "If you ever want to have a serious, real conversation about what your expectations are of me and what I can do to help you do your job, feel free to let me know.  I'd be happy to help.  Until that time, just keep yourself and your derogatory slurs away from me.  Until you can treat me like an adult and an equal, I'm done with you."