The letter had apparently done its job - giving Morgan Vedir's request and providing little warning on the exact nature this meeting would take. The handwriting had been neat and elegant and the message short and succinct; as a School Governor, he wished to speak with the head of Slytherin house. Exactly what he wished to speak to him about wasn't stated beyond a vague mention that it had to do with his job.

Vedir sat at his desk in his study, and looked out to the sunlit grounds of his estate, ignoring the young lady in the room with him. It was a lovely day; he made a mental note to walk later, on the advice of his doctor. The gardens had been recently redone, after all. Mostly to accommodate the tunnels being built below them.

The clock chimed; Morgan's portkey would be activating soon. The enchanted galleon that had been sent with the confirmation letter was a simple solution, and would drop Morgan off in front of the house in mere minutes. Vedir snuffed his cigar and stood up; the young lady, who'd been putting her hair back up, took this as the usual signal to depart the room.

A ring of the bell summoned his butler; the man appeared, his graying hair almost hiding the faint scars of spell damage on the side of his head. "When Mister Morgan arrives, have him sent to the lounge," Vedir instructed, as he himself headed there, adjusting the lay of his jacket to get it back into place.

Early afternoon, and almost time. Landis unfolded the succinct letter and plucked from it its portkey. An enchanted galleon... too opulently flashy for his taste. (Unless it was a bribe. He quite liked those.)

Upon being invited to an audience with a school governor, an ordinary Hogwarts employee might think they were to be reproached for somehow failing in their duties, and it was true that this was largely what he puzzled over. He did not think he'd been remiss as the Head of Slytherin House, despite his other occupations - but it was that or praise, which seemed equally unlikely as he'd noteworthy enough to merit this invitation. It could be something to do with the upcoming Tournament, he supposed. There'd been talk of seeing the centaurs. Likewise his skill with potions was known well enough to assist in any tasks, but then Juliette would have been invited too. He didn't really think too much on it. A meeting with a school governor didn't overly worry him.

Nevertheless, he couldn't avoid the faint stirrings of unease. Between Malvivicus' continued presence and what Landis was in the process of putting together, this ill ease was an unavoidable companion. It'd been here all summer, and longer than that. No, he wasn't worried for his job... but paranoia had a vicious bite. All right, maybe it wasn't a sensation as nasty as the familiar sickening jerk when the portkey activated, but it was pretty damned persistent.

The world realigned itself at the door of a luxurious estate, the house looming overhead as pale and high as the cliffs of Dover. Landis took a long glance behind him at the woods, fields, decorative pond, and impressive amount of privacy, then knocked.

The door was opened immediately. He certainly did not miss the unusual scarring on the side of the butler's head, no matter how wonderfully natural-seeming of a comb-over it was. Intriguing.

"Landis Morgan, to see Mr. Prideaux," he informed the man, and was promptly whisked inside.

The lounge was a better place to meet guests of this nature, Vedir had found - though fellows like Morgan were a bit of a wildcard when it came to such meetings, no matter the area of the house they met in. Still, he hoped Morgan would find the place suitably opulent and open.

He'd taken the liberty of pouring himself a drink and was eyeing the pool table thoughtfully, cue in hand, when the door clicked. He took the shot regardless, the balls thunking against each other as Vedir stood.

"Ah, my dear Mister Morgan, do come in. Thank you, Callahan," he said, as the butler opened the door and bowed the blonde librarian in. Vedir looked Landis up and down; he was a good looking man. Long blonde locks, angular and elegant features and a lean build - and, of course, a lovely scowl. He couldn't help the slight smile that found his lips. It was an easy, polite smile, and he approached Landis and held out his hand.

"Thank you for coming to meet me, Mister Morgan. May I say your work at Hogwarts this last year has been excellent?" He waved a hand towards the tumbler of brandy and the comfortable chairs, in a silent offer. "I do hope you plan to stay onboard, unlike so many of your colleagues."

The house was extravagantly and opulently decked out. Gigantic. Impressive. Unnecessary. Landis took the opportunity to observe, sweeping soaring ceilings and plush carpet with the cool gaze of a man whose family had not been so rich in centuries and therefore disapproved of conspicuous wealth.

Ushered into a lounge after dutifully following the butler through a short series of towering rooms, Landis gave a polite nod. "Mr. Prideaux," he acknowledged, eyes flicking briefly to the brandy on offer. A smile, accompanied by a flash of conciliatory fingers - an equally silent refusal. He shook, a brief dry clasp of hands, then took a seat. "Thank you. Hogwarts has been most accommodating; I've no plans to leave it anytime soon." Another smile, pleasant but distant, his entire manner redolent with the pseudo-warmth of Landis' society mode. It was quite unlike Vedir's own easy warmth, which invited one to relax, to trust. That, along with a great deal of charisma, doubtless had helped secure him his job - the same job that allowed him to pay for such an extravagant house, apparently. But unlike Vedir's, Landis' manner was genuine.

A moment after sitting, he blinked slowly, lips parting in remembrance. "Your portkey," he said, and held it out to Vedir between two fingers.

"Thank you," he said, and took back the galleon, slipping it into a pocket without a second thought. He paused a moment, considering his next words; his eyes locked on Landis's own in a quiet and serious manner.

"I shall be frank," he said, picking up his glass of brandy. "You're a talented man, Mister Morgan - remarkably so, given your age. It was quite difficult to find your paper trail, and trust me when I say that with the highest praise. There are men twice your age who couldn't have replicated it - well done."

He sipped the brandy before he continued. "I am rather disappointed, therefore, to find you wasting those talents on a child like Schlagenweit, who will no doubt squander your lessons. I would like to offer you an alternative - an opportunity to use your talents for your own benefit." His eyes, which had closed, opened again - this time his gaze was sharp and cold, but lanced with the easy confidence of a man in his element.

"You would, of course, be fully compensated - and have opportunity for advancement, if you desire it. You've a bright future, if you play your cards right; I would prefer you not be wasted as Kronos's babysitter."

Landis blinked again, but slowly, without any particular surprise. "My," he said dryly. "Word does travel fast." He was silent a moment, doubtless processing this into his world view - one of the school's governors, corrupt, what a surprise. If he could be assured that Prideaux had any actual power base, this would not be an unattractive option. Landis was quickly outgrowing his early commitment to the WBA - Cinaed still had his loyalty, but the man couldn't feed his ambition. Even now Landis was putting in place a few strategies to have properly fulfilled his duty, and then intended to scout around. He was not a one-man army, some blazing revolutionary devoted to an ideal. He was selfish and self-seeking and wanted his fingers in every pie. The WBA....and others. Vedir was an unforeseen possibility, one that Landis was too smart to refuse outright until he'd heard what was on offer. And Prideaux'd started the conversation without holding the life  and torture-free existence of one of Landis' valued friends as collateral, which was always appreciated.

He chose not to acknowledge the compliment, because to do so would be to acknowledge what it implied. But he did have the completely unintelligent urge to smirk - which he smothered, of course, just as easily and as well as he did his initial, nonplussed surprise. Working so cautiously did not ever result in praise. If done successfully, it resulted in anonymity. Obviously he had not been successful, which irritated him slightly less when spoken of in Vedir's smooth tones than Kronos' cackling ones. But he couldn't have failed too badly either, for neither of them'd been elaborated more on the subject, and Landis had destroyed or misfiled quite a lot of it himself.

"I'm not pleased with the arrangement, but Malvivicus made a..." A subtle pause, meant to indicate quite a bit more than was actually expressed. "Highly persuasive argument. I doubt he'd be impressed if I leapt eagerly into another's service. This is by no means my telling you that I would but for my other criminal overlord, but I am interested to hear how you think to deal with the repercussions." Would Vedir offer him protection, or another occasion to play spy? Or - although this would severely hamper any future politeness from Landis - did Vedir intend to swap minions, like chess pieces, collectibles, slaves? Perhaps he and Kronos were close. That was a fairly disgusting thought.

He circled back around now to the paper trail, the implicit charge, the (correct) assumption Vedir was making. "That deal was of necessity. There is quite a bit riding on my ability to babysit to his satisfaction, but it was an understandable choice for anyone. Why did you approach me with this - or think I could perform whatever it is that you want? The paper trail is nothing; my record is spotless."

Vedir's smile was, again, polite; but it gained a knowing edge. Kronos did have a certain way of doing things, which was - for the most part - the opposite of Vedir's own. "I do hope the third party escaped relatively unscathed," he said, simply.

He laughed, a soft and gentle sort. "No man has a spotless record, Mister Morgan," he said. "I can assure you that what I have gathered is enough for me to gauge you capable in the fields I need, but it is not enough to truly gauge your full ability. Besides, very few spotless men attend the sort of meetings you have gone to."

Setting the glass on the edge of the pool table with a delicate clink, he folded his hands in front of him. "I cannot offer you safety from Malvivius," he said, frankly. "Right now, what is to stop him from simply killing you when he's done with you, or when you try to find a way out of his grasp? Poor Librarian Morgan, gone the way of the Headmistress. Will the outspoken Astronomy Professor be next?" He mocked the news radio announcers' tone for a moment. "What I can offer you is leverage," he said, in his usual tone. "Malvivicus and I are friends, of a sort - politically speaking. Neither of us is in a hurry to impede on the other's good graces; should you accept my offer, my name can give you some degree of protection." Again, he smirked slightly. "And frankly, Malvivicas can and may do worse than just make you babysit. He has...tastes." He allowed a tint of disgust filter into his voice, and to some extent he truly agreed with it. Vedir's tastes ran the same, but Malvivicus was not exactly a feast for the eyes. The young many sitting across from him, however, was. It was a rather distressing thought. Besides, Kronos's leftovers weren't much fun. Vedir shuddered, slightly, just enough to make it clear: He'd seen the after effects of those tastes.

He shook his head. "Of course, that's not all I'm offering you. But I expect you'd prefer to know what I want with your abilities rather than have me spin stories of wealth?"

"Not precisely." But there was nothing Vedir could do for Dazmond, nor anything Landis would ask. He shrugged as though careless, dismissing the subject.

Well, that was a sensible enough reply. Landis, who felt obliged to a token protest of innocence in the case of future memory-searching testimony, was satisfied with the answer. Of course, what he'd really like was a meticulous verbal list of the entirety of what Vedir knew, including his sources and methods of obtaining such information. But such things rarely happened, especially in negotiation. He would settle for this.

Yes, it was a tempting offer. Landis' plan had consisted mostly of the need to strike before Kronos decided he'd outlived his usefulness, but there was the possibility that his plans wouldn't come to fruition in time. If Malvivicus found a better tutor - if Schlagenweit could not learn well enough - if someone talked - if if if. Landis was not about to be taken out before he'd had his revenge.

"You are assuming Malvivicus would forgive my seeking other employers. Do you know him well enough for this assumption to be true? While his attitude towards early retirement is certainly alarming, neither would I care to be punished because he's overly possessive."

"And frankly, Malvivicas can and may do worse than just make you babysit. He has...tastes."

Landis' expression did change then, not to shock or disgust but to something vaguely annoyed, as if the thought was incredibly tiresome. "Regrettable," he said. "But unsurprising." Anyone who dressed like that - acted like that - and Malvivicus' obsession with the Schlagenweit boy was obviously unhealthy. Despite the lack of surprise, something about Landis' attitude suggested that, rendered wandless or not, should Kronos attempt any distasteful power-plays he'd quickly learn to live life (the short remainder) sans his shriveled prick. Or perhaps Landis was just thinking it so hard and so scornfully it almost transcended a lack of Legilimency on Vedir's part.

"Correct." Because of course Vedir would be paying him well. Landis would hardly work for him otherwise.

"I see. You have my sympathies," Vedir said, with a tilt of his head. Not that many  people did make it out of Kronos's clutches completely unscathed, but once could always hope.

"So long as your work with me does not impede him, you are unlikely to be in danger," he said. "And your work would not impede him directly - he and I have different focuses. As I said; I can offer you leverage, but not complete safety. Malvivcus is, at times, annoyingly unpredictable." Like with this Schlagenweit business. The moment he'd found out, he'd honestly laughed. He had hoped in his old age Kronos would slip, and slip he had. The naive child wouldn't last a day after Kronos's death.

And Vedir did rather like that castle of Kronos's. It would be a lovely gem in the crown, when he owned it. But...ah. One step at a time.

"I have a certain set of concerns, and you'll have to forgive me for assuming you may share them," He said, walking to Landis's side to casually top off his brandy. "Zephyr's announcement has me worried, you see..." He sipped, and considered his next words.

"There are certain peers of mine who believe Tawse is correct in spirit, but not in his methods. I am inclined to agree." His lips pressed into a line. "And now he is on the run, his efforts in Knockturn seemingly wasted, his group in shambles. A great victory for the forces of equality, is it not? But one man's setback is another's opportunity. What I'd like is to ensure his work continues - but in a way that ensures staying power. And I need men who can make that happen."

Well, this sounded a little too tailored to Landis' particular tastes. His eyes narrowed, more sharply observant than in warning. Perhaps Prideaux did know. It mattered little at this point, if he agreed to work for the man.
With that background he would only seem even more competent. Though it did explain why Prideaux had thought he'd be suited, and it explained why he was listening now.

"What a tempting offer," he said, so softly that it was impossible to tell whether he was sarcastic or serious. "Tawse committed a number of crimes and had a number of angles. Which exactly do you want continued? Would you want recruitment, politics, and unification, or kidnappings, threats, and murder?"

Landis was not opposed to either; he understood crime was a fickle field. It would be interesting to see where Vedir would place him, however, to hear what exactly he wanted. This was the most unusual job interview Landis had ever had, where discussing his capabilities was not recommended. Not until he knew more of Prideaux, at least. Perhaps it wasn't fair to ask what Prideaux intended him for until the man knew his skills, but with whatever information he'd gathered surely he had intentions.

"I would have time to think on this. Are you on a time schedule, or may I have a fortnight? I have some business to attend to before I can commit to another."

"What I want, Mister Morgan, is control of the area for my allies - which would include yourself, if you choose to take the offer. How you seek to go about making that a reality...I will leave to your discretion, unless absolutely necessary." He had plenty of men who could do jobs when laid out to them carefully; what he needed were people who could achieve goals without having a step-by-step guide. There was something to be said for individual style.

Aside from the fact it was rather key to his plans, currently.

"By all means, Mister Morgan, do give it thought. I will be interested to hear your response. Should you like more information..." He reached into the pocket of his blazer, and drew out a small card; he flicked to to the Librarian with a practiced movement of his wrist.

"I believe you know of the fellow," he said, with what might have been a slightly amused tone. The card was simple and gave the address for Grey's Potions in Diagon Alley; Alistair's signature was quick and loopy and overwrote the logo in places. "You may find his opinion valuable, even it is rather colorful. Mister Grey tends to be rather blunt, from what I understand - but he can give you more information on what these jobs are like, if you desire it. And if you have concerns, do not hesitate to contact me."