*With an entirely out-of-character flourish, Arcturus produces the bottle of Heidsieck from behind his back, twirls his wand to conjure up two large armchairs and a small, inlaid table with two champagne glasses on it, and indicates to his wife to sit. "I have . . . news."
"Oh, come on, you must remember her. Dark hair, always wanting to be your best friend? I actually thought she was - one of them, you know? I mean, she couldn't take her eyes off you, at least until you used to tell her to go away. And even then, it was a slow, dragged-out process. You said you were going to make her a bridesmaid, but at the last minute we decided to limit it even more, pretty much family only, and we've never seen her since."
*Arcturus' inkwell of patience runs dry, and he summons an album of school photos, flicks through, and stabs one particular print with a finger, causing the Tulula in the picture to give an indignant squawk, and shuffle out of frame, glaring at him.* "There, right behind you, well, where you were. Do you remember her now?"
"It's a note I found, in volume 43 of Bartholomew I should add, about a half-hour ago. I've done some checking, and there is a Draco rookwood, newly arrived at the Ministry, twenty-one years of age. He was at Durmstrang and then Hogwarts, and achieved 8 'O's at NEWT. He's a registered Pure-Blood, and Kat Harrow WAS his mother. She's died, apparently."
"How the hell should I know?! You read the note - she drugged me. I just assume she slipped it in there when she sloped off. I sort of recollect her coming here, now this has jogged my memory, a couple of days before the wedding, saying you'd change your mind, weren't going to marry me, and she needed to talk. So I let her in. My folks were already at the hotel, staying there whilst Mater made all the arrangements, and letting Kat in is the last thing, from that sequence, that I remember clearly. This would kind of fill in the blanks. Or rather, excuse them."
"If the note is right, he's a Rookou. It's what he is. He'll see reason; feel the call of blood." *Arcturus speaks with the kind of unequivocal certainty around which the paths of planets can be bent.*
*Always enchanted by his certainty when he speaks this way, she nods. She comes back to the reality of her situation at the sound of the word blood.* "I know that she took advantage of you, There are no words to express the complexity of my inner turmoil right now Arcturus. Know that as mixed feeling build toward you at the sight of him, I will treat your son with the respect he deserves, because he's blood."
*The inculcated codeword works as powerfully upon him as her, but this time in reverse, as it were. It snaps him out of his dreams of future glory, and in a rare moment he looks with true caring upon another human. Arcturus deftly uncorks the Heidsieck, without popping, pours a glass for each of them, and hands hers to her, as he speaks.* "You know, my love, that I could have accomplished none of this without you, and will achieve nothing lasting for the future, if you are not by my side." *He clinks, and drinks.*
*Arcturus watches the ideas chase one another through Tulula's head, not via Legilimency, but the familiarity that a quarter century of harmonised goals and ideals has brought, sees her breath catch as she catches fire from a concept she cares for, and permits himself a smug relaxation of his perpetual tight-lipped expression, feeling that this bodes well, for the days, and heir, to come.*
HebathThe Rookery -"As you say." – 14:35, September 24, 2012 (UTC)
*Hebath bows the "guest" into the room, steps out, and Apparates to Arcturus' wing, in search of the Master.*
"On your way here, I feel certain you must have noted our - straitened circumstances. I'm even contemplating trying to recruit from the stables, in order to have some vaguely human help about the place - and to greet visitors, of course. The estate's entailed in a shambolic manner, and until Ciaran is heir and apparent once more, we just muddle through as best we can."
"I have no doubt Pure-Blood will tell against the mongrels, in the long run, and I wish you every success in your endeavours against the Ministry, naturally. Did I hear rightly that you have the Lady of Bordeaux, and even Stromberg among your ranks?"
"When matters improve, as they surely should, I will, of course, keep you informed." *Shakes hand* "I'd better show you out myself. After Ciaran, I was irked, and I fear did some structural damage to the building, but the wards protecting the Lord of the Manor are, thankfully, still fully functional."