It seemed that Liadan was going to have a new Thursday ritual. Prior to taking her usual deposit to Gringotts, Liadan had to wait on Auror Trevelyan to come by her home for her first "check in" since being placed on probation. The whole situation had been a total disaster, and she had been horribly depressed. Sure- Liadan ought to be glad, thrilled even, to have dodged the Azkaban bullet- but the fact she had been caught and her reputation nearly ruined did not sit well.

Liadan had received at least one lecture from Vedir, who seemed- more than anything- disappointed in her. His condescending tone and handling of the situation overpowered her gratitude for his involvement. Liadan knew that he'd had a hand in keeping her name and face out of the papers, but wasn't sure how or what he had done. Though it certainly was a relief to have returned to society with very little being said about the entire incident.

She was also certain that Oscar Whitman must think so much less of her after it all, and his opinion was one that truly mattered. He was, all in all, a very good man. And her dearest, closest friend- Liadan knew she would have to distance herself from Melanthe. Her friend was far from innocent, and Liadan did not want to chance another guilty by association charge on her hands. The fact of the matter was that Melanthe was not the only person in her life with questionable morals, and she was going to have to change who she associated with- something that would not be easy to explain to any of them. Especially business partners who had been around for generations.

Liadan looked up from the book she had been reading when one of the house elves skittered into the room. She stood up, shooing both of them to the kitchen. Liadan was going to handle this herself- it was the only way to maintain any level of dignity. It was like the fire inside of her had died, knowing she would have to open the door with her head held high, feigning indifference as she faced the cheeky grin of that redheaded menace (to whom she owed her freedom) without the luxury of being able to be truly angry with him.

"Good morning, Auror Trevelyan," she greeted quietly, holding the door open. "Please come in. Would you like some coffee or tea before we begin?" Liadan wasn't entirely certain what the process would would consist of, but had a strong feeling it would be incredibly unpleasant for her.

Standing here in front of the O Morain front door, he couldn't help feeling as if life had brought him in a full circle from where he'd once been.  It had been less than a year ago when he'd come here for the first time, intent on finding hints of the magical black market so he could trace the dagger that had been stolen from Aileen Reid's home. 

Back then, he'd still been a private investigator, independent and incredibly alone -- family lost, no friends or allies, no sense of purpose beyond earning enough to make rent.  There had been no safeguards, nothing to back him up if his wit and curiosity failed.  It hadn't been until months later that it had finally dawned on him what a dangerous game he had been playing, when he had finally realized how close he had gotten to stepping over a line that he could never cross again.

But today, months later, the world was a changed place.  He felt confident and self-assured, and considerably happier.  His family life was still slowly repairing itself.  Work at the Ministry was stressful, but for the first time in his entire life, he felt certain of his place.  Good friends in Adon, Radley, and Pratt; friendly relations with most of his other colleagues.  A sense of belonging, that what he was doing was both valued and valuable.  And a boss who had a thing for not always wearing trousers, but nothing was ever perfect.

Miss O Morain, it seemed, had gone in the opposite direction these past few months.  The once-confident young woman who had bitten his ear off at the slightest hint of offense stood demurely before him.  She greeted him with a quiet voice and a diminished spirit, with none of the fire that he'd grown used to seeing from her.

Jonas raised his eyebrows as he nonchalantly glanced over her.  Liadan O Morain had created all of the problems in her life.  She had conspired with Cinaed Tawse; she had gone out of her way to steal a child from his parents.  She had bullied and manipulated and threatened, and he had no doubt that if events had turned out differently -- if she had won the game of cat and mouse, or ever caught him alone and unprotected somewhere -- that he would not have enjoyed the results. 

But for all her threats and superiority, she was still a very young woman, barely older than his niece.  She wasn't a hardened, callous criminal.  Even with what he knew about her -- how she'd threatened him, threatened his family -- seeing her like this, it was hard to go on hating her.

Jonas raised his eyebrows, looking bemused at the offer in spite of himself.  For all that they mutually suffered from an unbelievably irritating superiority complex, some Pureblood habits obviously incurred their own advantages.

"Depends.  Put something in it, did you?" he asked with a crooked smile as he stepped through the door, his eyes already scanning warily over the interior.  Still clean, still neat -- as close to unchanged as he could remember it.  Miss O Morain was still a woman who cared very much about appearances.

"At your pleasure, Miss O Morain," he said easily, glancing at her with a frown.  Jonas kept his tone frank and matter-of-fact as he replied.  "I'm not here to impose any more than I have to.  If you'd rather we're quick about it, there's no need for tea."

Liadan did not find Jonas' joke about whether or not she had poisoned the tea amusing. She pursed her lips in obvious non-amusement and gave hima level stare. She shut the door behind him as he came in, listening as he claimed that he would not impose more than he had to.

"If I had my druthers, Auror Trevelyan, I think you and I both know that this entire arrangement of regular visits and wand checks would be a non-issue. However, considering the circumstances and in light of recent events, I have a feeling that my druthers are unobtainable for a very, very long time."

Calling for one of the house elves, she ordered it to make some tea, and then motioned for Jonas to follow her to the sitting room.

Though a quick visit would be preferable, Liadan had decided that if she was going to be tortured by having to endure the visits, she was going to make sure that they were equally unpleasant and awkward for Auror Trevelyan. (Liadan had yet to realize that it took a lot to get under his skin, and that her attempts would likely be futile- but damnit, she had to try.)

Liadan settled herself into her favorite chair, flicking her wand to bring the lights up in the room. Then she held out the short, yew wand for Jonas to take. "For your inspection," she stated simply.

Jonas took the wand, turning it over in his hands.  The wood felt foreign, unfamiliar -- not the least bit friendly, the way that his own warm cedar wand was starting to again after all these years.  It had only been two short weeks since he'd been able to use magic again, and he still felt horrendously out of practice, but Adon had been helping him drill the most common spells that he might need to use.  Really mastering a dozen or so felt far more manageable right now than trying to reclaim all of his prior knowledge.

This was one that he had practiced, if only for this visit.  Jonas took a deep breath as he held the wand out, pointing its tip toward the ceiling, and tried to push out any doubt that the spell wouldn't work.  Self confidence mattered.  They'd already proven that one on the practice court.

"Revoficus," he said firmly.

The spell settled over the wand and shimmered, as bits of different colors began to emanate from its wood and were drawn toward the tip.  Jonas raised his eyebrows as he regarded the luminescent glow, examining it carefully for any sign of irregularities -- but it was all bright and shining, with no hint of marring that might have been evidence of dark magic cast in recent days. 

"Seems to be in good order," he said dryly, passing it back to her.  Part of him wondered if one of these regular wand inspections had ever revealed anything out of order.  Members of the magical underworld were hardly stupid; they knew the routines as thoroughly as the Aurors did, and that knowledge meant that it couldn't be difficult to get around them.  All it would take was a second wand and the felon would have full freedom.

Now that she was no longer running wild with impunity, Liadan O Morain seemed a different person.  Quiet, chastened, even if she was still clinging to her pureblood manners as if they were a life ring and she were adrift in an unsurmountable, furious sea.  Jonas frowned, studying her carefully.  She could recite her activities and the names of her associates all day, but for all he'd know about it, she could have installed a clandestine floo network in her private facilities and be conversing secretly with Cinaed Tawse himself every time she went to the loo. 

"So this is the bit where we're supposed to chat about what you've been up to since last I saw you," he informed her, still frowning as he settled into an uncomfortable chair.  "How do you normally keep track of your appointments, Miss O Morain?"

Liadan watched as he cast a spell on her wand, wondering what the different colors meant. She was going to have to do some research on that spell. Revoficus, she repeated the incantation to herself mentally, filing it away for later use. She tucked her wand into an inner pocket when he passed it back to her. "Good to know," she said simply.

The tea arrived just as Jonas stated that it would be time for them to chat about what they had been doing. She politely thanked the house elf. (Liadan had always treated her elves with respect, believing it made them better behaved and better servants.) The tray was placed on a table, and Liadan gestured to the elf to serve Jonas first and poured her own tea in the man time, adding milk and honey to sweeten the flavor.

"I keep an appointment book," Liadan told him simply. "It keeps all of my appointments in order and alerts me to meetings or appointments ahead of time so I may be prepared for them." Liadan reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a small, leatherbound book. "It is charmed to only open to my wand," she informed him before pressing the tip of her wand against a lock on the front.

The book fell open and immediately informed her she was late for her gringotts deposit. "I have yet to update the information to reflect our meetings," she told him. "Admittedly most of my calendar is cleared in the aftermath of what has happened. I intend to keep to myself for a couple of months, and focus on the business before making myself available to society again."

Liadan handed him the book. "If you look at the dates before today you can see a full schedule of my events. It is rather boring. Meetings with clients and dinners with friends and family."

"Admittedly since we last spoke I have  not been doing... much of anything. I'm waiting until the heat dies down, so to speak, before making myself a public figure again. I've been trying to find some... good things to do with my time. Something safe and constructive. Unfortunately, most safe and constructive activities are either dreadfully boring or just dreadful."

It was a look into a different world, hearing O Morain talk about her appointment book and putting her social life on hold.  He'd never quite understood posh pureblood society and Jonas was fairly certain that he never wanted to.  The only reason the young woman was even penitent about getting caught was because of how it had looked to get caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.  If she hadn't had a reputation to maintain, Jonas doubted that she would have even cared.

That was the problem with all of this.  Checking in on O Morain once a week wasn't going to change anything about the young woman or her beliefs.  He couldn't reorganize society into something that better suited him simply by keeping track of what was written in her appointment book.

But maybe there was a way -- he was only half listening to what O Morain was saying when her words clicked.  She was looking for something to do with her time.  It was in his best interest if she found something, though maybe not quite what she thought she was looking for.

"Well, there's an idea, innit?" he asked thoughtfully, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in his chair.  Community service in a way, wasn't it?  Let O Morain give back to the greater magical society.  Provide plenty of entertainment for their mandated weekly meetings.  And maybe expose her to some new ideas in the process.

"I think finding good things to do with your time is a grand idea," he said, flashing the young woman a lopsided smile.  "You know, Dreogan Eleor's just started up a new department at the Ministry, and word on the street is that he's got a shoestring budget.  You could give him a hand filing papers."  Although planting an obvious purist right in the middle of Dreogan's department wasn't going to do his best friend's brother any favors.  "Or, you know, help the elderly," he suggested nicely.  "Walk 'em across the street.  Plant some flowers.  Yeah, I reckon that's the sort of thing that ought to be mandated by parole."

She bristled when he mentioned mentioned Eleor's new department at the ministry. She had heard about it, read about it in the prophet- and it was certainly not the place for her. "I appreciate the suggestion, Auror Trevelyan, but I do not think that would be the wisest idea considering I have every intention of being a model citizen and staying out of trouble rather than finding more of it." Which was going to be difficult. At least most of her close friends were relatively harmless. Perhaps it was time to make nice with Lotte and try fo reforge their close friendship after her blow up about Lotte's halfblood boyfriend.

And the idea of the elderly... well, to put it bluntly, it seemed disgusting. The elderly were not her problem. "Perhaps I can dedicate time to more appropriate charities and focus on getting the company back into working order and cleaning up our reputation. It has been a very stressful year for the farm as I am sure you know."

"The purebloods do love donating their money to good causes. Perhaps I might even look into starting my own charity. I know my cousin was very involved in the arts before his arrest. The idea of helping to preserve wizard heritage is one that greatly interests me, after all. Though naturally I would be certain to go about it in a much better way than my dear cousin did." Lothario had been rather stupid in his getting caught, after all.

"But that's neither here nor there, is it?" she asked. "I'm certain something will turn up. I shall ask my friends about it. Charlotte especially can be particularly brilliant." Yet another reason to try to put things back to how they used to be between the two.

Liadan sipped her tea and picked up a tea cake, nibbling at the corner, giving the auror a level stare. "Perhaps I could make myself useful to the ministry in other ways. Donating ingredients to the department of mysteries and things of that nature. I hear my brother is working there now. I'm sure he could use fresh parts for his potions research."