Marcus Belby (elixir_fides) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-10-13 21:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !completed, adrian pucey, marcus belby |
Life on the Mountain
Who: Adrian & Marcus
What: Climbing, drinking, talking (the usual)
When: Saturday, 10 October, evening
Where: Crinkle Crags, aka their favourite climbing spot
Warnings: a bit of language
Status: complete
Adrian had been ready to climb again since the moment he'd finished his walk for Miranda, but circumstances, between his increasing load at the clinic andEryri Ysbyty and his dealings with his family and his houseguest , had conspired not to let him out in the weeks since Fashion had abandoned London for Paris. He still wasn't sure where he stood with Miranda, and had no idea where he stood with Gus, but was resigned about it either way. Short of forcing a confrontation with one or the other that he had no intention of forcing, particularly not with Gus, it was beyond even his power to control. Instead of dwelling on it, Adrian threw himself into his work, and, as usual, his play. Play in this case was climbing up the side of his favourite face of Crinkle Crags, with Marcus a bit above him, en route to where they'd rest and eat the dinnerFlitchy had packed for them.
Pushing himself farther and faster than his usual pace, Marcus was feeling good. His muscles were loose, and his mind was, for the first time in a long while, relaxed and untroubled. He concentrated on the next handhold, the next crack in the rock where he could pull himself farther up the cliff, no thought of politics,occlumancy , or his Uncle's imminent return to cloud his enjoyment of the sheer physical exertion. He could just see the ledge where they planned to stop, and he looked down to where Adrian was quickly catching up.
"Careful of the brambles to your left," he called down helpfully. "They're vicious."
There was a momentary consideration of using that handhold anyhow, just because, but Adrian had had his lecture on excessive self-flagellation from his confessor, and there was no point in injuring himself just because he could. He deftly avoided the dangerous spot, circling around it, falling back a little from the trail Marcus was blazing up the side of the crag. "Thanks," he called up, and lapsed into silence again, breaking it only with the occasional noise of exertion as he spotted his own way up the cliff.
A few minutes later, Marcus pulled himself up over the edge of the small flattened outcropping, and wiped the grit off of his dragonhide gloves. Pulling out his wand, he deposited his gloves in a pocket of his backpack, and cleaned the area of the worst of the brambles, while waiting for Adrian to make his way. By the time his friend was poking his head over the rocky ledge, Marcus had set up a flattened stone in a convenient location to be used as a low table.
It took Adrian longer than Marcus might have expected to join him on the ledge. Seeing what Marcus was up to, he got out of the way and put his pack on the makeshift table. "I think sometimes that we should just pick a particular climb and charm the weeds not to grow on it or some such." Doffing his own gloves, he started to unpack dinner, showing the various items to Marcus as they came out of the rucksack so the younger man could guess what they were. "Smells good," he observed of one particular packet. "I don't think we need to worry about starving, at least."
"Not with Flitchy on the job," Marcus nodded appreciatively, helping Adrian to arrange the various foodstuffs and eating utensils as they were removed from the pack. "He just won't do anything halfway, will he?" His eyes were wide as he saw the amount of food thatFlitchy had prepared for the two of them. It was by no means the first time, but Marcus was continually amazed and bemused at the little elf's version of a 'picnic lunch.'
Despite the quantity of food, Adrian and Marcus generally managed to consume most of it between the two of them. It was a testament to Adrian's Healer-driven metabolism that he could eat so well and still remain almost rail-thin. "Halfway isn't in his vocabulary, no. I think that's in the water at the house somehow. Both of them, because Ellie and I both got it somewhere too." The slightly distracted expression Adrian had been wearing all afternoon shifted a little to the usual fond smile that mention of his sister brought forth from Adrian.
Marcus' smile matched Adrian's, but for a different reason. He liked seeing the Healer go all brotherly; it did something to his entire demeanour, relaxing it somehow. "I haven't seen Ellie in ages. How is she doing?" A stray thought of his Uncle Damocles flitted through his mind at the thought of Adrian's young sister, but he quickly quashed it.
What Adrian thought was that she was ready to be done with houseguests, but that was a subject he wasn't sure he was ready to bring up so baldly. "She's tutoring for Ginevra Potter's ward and I think she's enjoying her work. And she's spending some time over atRedbridge with Jac and Astoria when she's not working, or so I gather from the gossip. She was anxious to tell me that Jac has broken off with her latest suitor again." Adrian made a face at that. "She's ready for me to be married, I think."
"Are you ready?" Marcus asked, his face carefully neutral. Adrian knew him well enough to see past the seemingly nonchalant question.
Adrian seemed to be quite busy with unwrapping his dinner for a moment; his expression shifted again, into something of a thoughtful frown. "Yeah, I think I am. With the right woman." He reached across the makeshift table to hand Marcus a parcel containing a sandwich.
Keeping his eyes on the sandwich, as he took it from Adrian, Marcus asked "How do you know you are? What has changed for you now?"
"I miss having Vida in the house," Adrian confessed. "Which tells me I'm ready for children of my own, which necessarily involves marriage. Did I tell you that NevilleLongbottom decided that Chris and I were lovers over all that?" He said it casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Marcus looked up from unwrapping his sandwich, his eyes wide. "No! Longbottom thought that you...and Chris?" His laughter was long and loud, disturbing a small bird farther up the cliff face. When he had regained his composure a bit, he shook his head, still grinning. "I suspect you disabused him of this notion?" He took a large bite from the sandwich and sat back, as if expecting a story.
"It wasn't clear to me when he gave me the gift what it was meant for." Realising how that could be taken, Adrian hastened to add, "It was aMuggle record. Apparently the music is popular among a subculture of homosexuals. I had to have it explained to me, and I reacted about like you did." Between bites of sandwiches, he finished, "AndLongbottom was gone by then, so I never did tell him."
"I see," Marcus mused, still grinning slightly. "Do you think he was feeling you out to see if you would be interested in a relationship?" He couldn't help but poke a bit, especially as it took his mind away from where it had begun to roam. Marcus was decidedly not looking forward to his Uncle's return.
That the idea of Neville soliciting his interest had not even occurred to Adrian was evident from the way his eyebrows flew up and his eyes went wide. Fortunately he didn't have the flask to hand so there was no spit-take of good whiskey involved. "Nooo," Adrian replied, letting the word draw out while he reexamined that conversation in light of Marcus' question. "I think he was mother-henning me because I gave the love of my life back up to his wife or some such." I hope was the unspoken subtext.
"Oh, you poor poor boy. Unrequited love from way back when you were ickle schoolchums!" Marcus popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and set the back of his hand against his forehead in a dramatic pose. Settling back down, he pulled a small ceramic bowl toward himself, lifting the lid and enjoying the aroma as the bowl's charm heated the contents. "Mmm, roasted potatoes. Smells like he's added bacon, as usual."
"Does Chris know about this?" Marcus spooned several potatoes onto a plate. "Or, better yet, have you notified Astoria of this love triangle of yours?"
Adrian rolled his eyes. "How stupid do you think I am? No, wait, don't answer that."
"Good point. Astoria doesn't seem like the sharing type." The smirk remained as he chewed a bit of potato. "Honestly Adrian, you can hardly be surprised atLongbottom's assumption. You are an impeccable dresser." The dig was only partly at Adrian, since they both knew that Marcus was occasionally a style disaster area.
"I'm certainly not dressing to catch Longbottom's attention to style, because it's obvious he has none." Adrian reached over to take the potatoes from Marcus and claim his share. "The whole thing was bizarre. I'm not offended by the suggestion, but it never occurred that anyone could think that of me. I've had enough trouble over girls over the years that I take it for granted everyone knows where my interests lie."
"Perhaps the girls were all a clever ruse to hide your true nature," Marcus shrugged, but it was clear he was losing interest in the joke. Leaning over toward his own pack, he pulled out a small leather pouch, and withdrew a miniature crystal decanter. A tap from his wand set it to expanding, whilst extruding two crystal tumblers from its bottom. The decanter was half full of amber liquid, Jameson's 15 year, not Marcus' own favorite, but the only whiskey he would serve to Adrian.
"It's going to be hard to carry on the Pucey name without one," Adrian pointed out before he let himself be distracted by the whisky. His own flask was still attached to his hip. It was a sign of something that he hadn't already opened it. "Very nice," he said, taking the glasses so that Marcus could serve from the decanter.
Pouring two healthy measures of whiskey, Marcus squirmed uncomfortably on the rock. The decanter held quite a bit more, and he set it within easy reach of both of them. "Well, there's Charles if that's what you're on after. His progeny will carry on the name as well."
Adrian took his tumbler but didn't raise it just yet. "Didn't I start this out by saying I'd enjoyed having a child in the house and talking about wanting my own? And that's regardless of how loath I am to be dependent on Charles for anything important. I suppose he puts me in a better position than you're in, but it's not one I think is tenable for the long term."
Marcus thought for a long moment, looking out over the vista, and sighed. He wasn't ready to consider his own position in this matter, but learning more about Adrian's efforts wouldn't hurt. "So you're looking for a suitable wife, then? Any prospects?"
"Ellie thinks I ought to marry Jac."
Still looking out over the rocky expanse, Marcus wrapped his hands around the tumbler. "I suppose she's a reasonable choice," he shrugged. "And you know you get along with her family. Does the idea interest you?" It was obvious from his own tone that the idea left him unmoved.
"I like Jac," Adrian said. It was something less than a ringing endorsement.
"I like Selkies," Marcus said, turning toward Adrian, "but I'm not planning to marry one."
Adrian shrugged. "I don't think even I can live up to the image of me Jac has in her head. She's put up with living with me--with me and Chris and Vida--but being married to me would be a bit different."
"So it's she who's interested then. And Ellie is pushing her agenda?" A hint of a smile played on Marcus' lips. "You're in a heap of trouble, mate. Two against one."
"Ellie doesn't approve of the woman I am seeing either. Not that there's any hope of that going anywhere, but when both of the families feel it's entirely unsuitable, that sort of puts paid to it. I thinkJac is meant as a consolation prize." This was evidently not a consoling thought.
"Not the best reason I've ever heard for marrying," Marcus sighed, "but not the worst either. No hurry, though, right? You can still try to come up with your own candidates. There have been a few women over the past few years that seem like reasonable possibilities."
"I think I should talk to the family on my mother's side, except for the minor fact that no witch in her right mind wants to marry into a British family right now." Adrian swirled the whiskey around in his glass, apparently oblivious to the fact that he hadn't drunk any yet. "My confessor doesn't get it, which isn't helping matters."
"What does he have to do with it?" Marcus had never been clear on the relationship between a Catholic and his confessor, but he wasn't comfortable probing too deeply into this area.
Adrian set the tumbler back down as a prelude to throwing up his hands. "There are just a lot of cultural issues. I explained to him that we arrange marriages, or arrange them ourselves within our own circles, that it's very conservative--but he has a veryMuggle -oriented view of love and sexuality and I think sometimes our cultures are so different that there's no way to have a sensible discussion. I don't think one that starts, 'by the way, everything you think about sex, love, and relations between men and women is fucked' is conducive to reaching a useful conclusion."
"But, he's a spiritual counselor, not a match maker." He held up a hand. "Forget it, it's not my place." Raising his glass in Adrian's direction he added, "Now start drinking this before I regret not bringing the GlenElgin."
Raising his own glass in response, Adrian murmured "Slainte," and brought it to his lips. The welcome burn of it down his throat took his attention from his spiritual troubles for at least a moment, and he nodded. "Excellent, as always." He took another sip, and added, "But I don't know what you think a spiritual director--not the same thing as a confessor, although mine serves as both--does, exactly, Marcus. If he's not going to advise me about the spiritual consequences of something as big as marriage, what good is his advice?"
Marcus was starting to feel very much out of his depth, but if Adrian was willing to explain, he would soldier on. "What sort of spiritual consequences?" He took a small sip from his own glass, enjoying the liquor, no matter what he would say to Adrian about its inferiority to a good Scotch.
"Well, for instance--" Adrian considered where to start, "--what if I married a woman who wasn't Catholic?"
"I suppose you would be the one taking the little sprogs to church on Sundays, then."
Adrian pressed his lips together for a moment. "You know, my father wasn't Catholic, and he managed that much. And maybe this is another reason why Ellie is campaigning forJac: she was willing to go to Midnight Mass at Christmas, which is more than some witches of my acquaintance would do."
"So did your mum's spiritual advisor have a problem with her marrying outside the faith?" Marcus was clearly trying to connect the dots, but there was a blind spot in his reasoning that he just couldn't get around. That may have been the reason why he didn't feel comfortable probing into these issues with Adrian.
"I don't know, of course, because I never had the chance to ask her. But my father did commit to raising me Catholic, a promise he kept even after my mother died and one that I don't doubt caused some domestic discord later. But she was Irish and I think things must be different there, as they are in Italy. There's not such a division between faith and magic in Rome. Or at least I used to think so." Adrian stared into his glass. "Maybe the problem is just me thinking if I apply myself to it, I can solve it, when I know perfectly well I can't solve how other people feel."
Adrian's mood was rubbing off on Marcus, and he felt himself growing morose about his own situation, as well as his friend's. "I realise I know very little about this subject, either of them, really, but it seems to me that you shouldn't be entering into the 'project' as though you were going to have to solve a problem. There aren't all that many acceptable families who share your faith, but thewizarding world is not completely devoid of Catholics." He shrugged. "Worst case, you go looking in Ireland, right? You'll have the benefit of being able to visit your favorite distilleries during the search," he added, raising his glass a bit in reference to the Jameson's before taking another sip.
"The worst case is death; as long as there's life, there's hope." Adrian raised his own glass to that thought. "I just despair sometimes of cross-cultural understanding."
"Well, from the little that I have been able to learn about the faith, despair is not allowed," Marcus smiled. "At least not until you've been searching for a good ten tears with no results." In an effort to pull Adrian out of the funk he seemed to be slipping into, Marcus decided to change the subject.
"So, how're things at the new clinic?"
Adrian cracked a melancholy grin. "Abysmal. Gus and I are on the outs and he's barely speaking to me. When he does it's 'HealerPucey '." Adrian rolled his eyes. "I sort of started it, in that I was the one who put my foot down, and I'm willing to live with the consequences, but I must admit I didn't think he'd consider leaving the clinic over it. On the other hand, if he's going to be that way about it, I guess it's best I know now."
"Put your foot down over what?" Marcus asked. The question was out of his mouth before he could realise how sensitive it might be.
"He couldn't bloody keep a secret and then he was hacked off when I told him I couldn't stomach lying to his sister. It's a fucking loyalty test and I won't play that game. Of course I don't expect to win anything by it, since I expect his sister to cut me off over the perceived injury to him, but I will at least have lived by my principles on the matter. I suppose it's funny because normally I'm the one that compartmentalises everything" Adrian quirked another bitter smile at Marcus. "The funny thing is, my spiritual director was further up in arms about that than he ever got about what he knew about the Seeker business. Maybe I don't understand God or the Church at all, but I reckon killing people, directly or not, is a damned sight worse than whether or not I'll lie about something as stupid as that."
The source of a secret that could possibly be as damaging as all that was beyond even Marcus' desire to probe. He was surprised, though, that Adrian would have more detailed personal information on Gus than his own sister. "I suppose it depends on how repentant you are," he deadpanned.
"About the Seeker? Quite a bit, in my own way. I regret the deaths but that's what happens when you assault an armed vessel almost the size of aQuidditch pitch to save a life." Adrian shrugged. "About the other? Not so much. The funny thing is that I suspect that when Miranda finds out, she'll be angrier about the deception than she ever would be about the secret. But it's not even about the fact that Gus has his head so far up his own arse that he can't see that any more; it's about me telling him not to tell me things he wants me to keep secret from her, and him immediately proceeding to do it again." He took another sip from the tumbler, almost finishing the whiskey that Marcus had poured him.
"Secrets between family members are a dangerous game. I can see why you wouldn't want to get between them on that topic." His upbringing demanded that he keep Adrian's glass filled, and he picked up the decanter, offering to pour. "It's surprising to me that Gus wouldn't be able to see that for himself. Might there be something else going on? Perhaps he subconsciously wants Miranda to find out, but doesn't feel comfortable telling her himself."
Adrian set the glass down on the stone to let Marcus refill it. "If he does, he'll need to find another legilimens to read his mind on the matter. It's more likely that he's jealous of my attentions to Miranda."
Marcus' surprise at this statement was evident in the twitch of his hand, nearly spilling a bit of whiskey as he refilled Adrian's glass. "Jealous? She's his sister, for Merlin's sake, not his girlfriend." His mouth twitched into a grin, "Unless you think Gus has the same designs on you as Neville." He reset the decanter, declining to top off his own glass.
"I should hope not," Adrian said very firmly, and drank to that.
Marcus laughed. "Get that look off of your face, Adrian. You're making yourself too tempting a target." He finished his own drink, holding the glass against the decanter, so that it would be reabsorbed. He had worked for weeks on this bit of magic, and was always pleased at how smoothly it continued to work.
The magic would normally have interested Adrian, but either he was too preoccupied by his own troubles to comment, or perhaps he thought the magic couldn't be good for the crystal and was therefore refraining. "The whole fucking thing is manipulative as hell, and I should know from manipulative. I'm a fuckingSlytherin psychologist. It's a recipe for never trusting anyone in your entire life again, not to mention for attributing the worst motives to everyone, including yourself. Which gets back to my problems with my spiritual director. Sometimes I think that for all my desire to trust and likeMuggles, I shall never truly understand them, or those raised in their culture." Adrian shook his head.
At Adrian's accusation, a look of mock surprise came over Marcus, and he held a hand to his heart mouthing the word, "Me?" However, the conversation had taken a turn for the serious once again, and he left off with his teasing.
"Perhaps you need to find yourself a spiritual director who is not a muggle. It seems like he's doing more harm than good." Or, perhaps, it was just this particular director, but Marcus held that to himself.
"I think," said Adrian, gesturing in Marcus's direction, "that you might. just. be. right."
The unexpected agreement put Marcus off his stride, and he looked curiously at Adrian in silence for a moment. "Plus," he mused quietly, "a wizard may be able to connect you up with eligible Catholic witches."
"I used to make my confessions in Dublin. When all this is over, I shall return to that practice, I think. It won't be as often, but I think I'll get more good from it. I want to be open to new experiences, but I think that if my spiritual and moral foundations weren't pretty firmly set before I got into this, I'd be at sea now." What Adrian did not say, and was not sure he was ready to say, was that he was pretty sure Phil was at sea and in a way that Adrian was more qualified to help Phil with than the ways in which Phil seemed to be less and less qualified to help Adrian. "I don't understand how he can be so excitable about sexual matters and so blase about what I consider real ethical transgressions."
"Some people just have their priorities completely wonky," Marcus shook his head, but it was hard to tell if he was completely serious.
Adrian sighed heavily and finished his whiskey, handing the tumbler back to Marcus. "And the road to hell is paved with good intentions."
"If I'm planning on ending up in hell any road, does it matter what my intentions are? Maybe it's best to just keep moving forward." Marcus dug around in his pack, pulling out another small leather pouch and setting it on the stone next to the decanter along with Adrian's glass. He placed his hand on the decanter, as if to pour the rest of the whiskey for Adrian if he was amenable.
They still had to get down the cliff face somehow. Adrian gave a slight shake of his head. "That's what I always do. Sometimes, though, I have a hard time not looking back."
"Part of the Slytherin persona, no?" It was evident that Marcus planned to stay up on the ledge for a while, as he produced a tightly rolled fag from the pouch, and lit it with a quick word. "Constantly looking forward and back, planning your next move. It's what makes you boys so crazy."
Recognising the contents of the fag, Adrian quirked an eyebrow. He hadn't been intending to self-medicate, but if Marcus thought he was that faroverwound , he assumed he was. "The situation's gone beyond my planning now. All I can do is be ready to react to it." He waited for Marcus to take a drag.
Marcus held the smoke in for a moment, handing the fag over with a nod. When he finally let out his breath, he wondered aloud, "Is that what's so difficult for you now? Not being able to plan for every possibility, having to sit and wait for things to happen to you?" It didn't seem like the kind of situation that Adrian would find comfortable.
"I worried less about passing the Quaffle when I had confidence in the people I'd passed it to, it's true," Adrian said agreeably, taking the fag but not yet putting it to his lips. "But what I worry about is if I can't make peace withMuggles, I who want to, how can the rest of us who don't really care do it?"
That was the heart of the issue, now, wasn't it? And if they couldn't figure it out, and soon, it could have far reaching consequences. Marcus had an uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "There are a great number of wizards trying to work it out," he began, but shook his head in the middle of the sentence, "but I think you may be right. I don't have much faith in the way we're going about it." Over the past few weeks, the officiousness of the newWizengamot had continued to grate at his rational, analytic way of addressing issues, and it was starting to lose its shine.
Letting out the smoke he'd been holding in, Adrian nodded. "Yes, what if they're all as bloody awful as we are? What if we prove what they're up to and nobody cares?"
"Then we're fucked, mate," Marcus said with a glower. "Then they're more dangerous than we originally thought, and we'll be going to war." He worked his jaw for a moment, then continued. "Someone will care. We just have to get off of our collective arses and take care of business."
"Going to war? Aren't we already at war? What did you think that business with Astoria was, playtime for old Quidditch mates? No, I'm not sure they will care. We're strange, we're different, we're not human, we just look like them. And if that's what they think, we'll fight, and we'll die." Adrian took another drag from the cigarette and passed it back to Marcus.
"That was a skirmish, Adrian," Marcus said, accepting the passed cig, "if it were a war it wouldn't be such a huge secret from rest of the muggle world. We are strange and different, but we're provably human, if only because we can interbreed." He thought about the dozens ofmuggle students had had seen come and go through the university near his home over the past year. They seemed so rational, he had to believe that they would be able to manage their fear, at least far enough not to become genocidal. That resulted in a shudder, and he took a long drag before passing the joint back.
Adrian blew out the smoke ring; it was unusually lopsided. "Ask Ellie whether we're in a war, Marcus," he drawled. "War between brothers leaves you no less dead."
"We're arguing semantics now. There's no profit in it."
There was an eyeroll from Adrian's side of the makeshift table. "The Seeker didn't come out of nowhere, is my point. We've been at war since they started murdering us like Death Eaters going afterMuggleborns . Now, I reckon, we see whether MI7's view of the world holds sway over one of peace and cooperation. I, unsurprisingly, am not sanguine."
Marcus raised an eyebrow in response. "I, unsurprisingly, am slightly more confident in the humanity of muggles as a people. It's the secrecy of MI7 that allows them to get away with murder." His face grew grim once again. "We should be using their own methods of disseminating information if we want them to believe what we're saying. They're not going to accept anything if we can't communicate in a way they will recognize." Marcus had visions of theWizengamot deciding to blanket several major cities in owls, and sighed.
"Fortunately there are people who are well enough versed in their methods to make that happen," Adrian said, and gave a thin smile. "Also, fortunately for everyone involved, we're all ethical here. Otherwise we'd just Imperius a few of the right people and make it happen our way."
"Don't even joke." Marcus had sat through enough meetings in the Wizengamot, as well as his recent forays into the OWLS, to know that there certainly were people who considered that to be a valid option. Fear was the great equalizer, and the word 'unforgivable' seemed to mean less when one's existence was at stake. He paused, some of what Adrian had said just now penetrating his thoughts. "Who do we have who is that well versed in their methods?"
Adrian had not been joking. He reached for the fag, which Marcus seemed to be ignoring, and smiled. "The Minister's got people on it."
Marcus let him have the cigarette, still pondering the ramification of that last statement. Slytherins excelled at developing a network of information between themselves and critical personages, Adrian more than most. If he said the Ministry was working on that avenue, it was a reasonably sure bet. "You're in contact with Never, are you?" He leaned back against the rock, watching Adrian through slitted eyes.
"Only if I have to be," Adrian's aristocratic nose wrinkled at the thought. "He is the official channel for these things now. I don't think he's the best choice, but he's what we have. So what tidbits I learn go into his network."
"And you're feeding him information." This was offered as a statement, but was a serious question. Marcus had no idea how embroiled in Ministry politics Adrian might have become, but somehow the idea was comforting.
"It would be unpatriotic to do any less, don't you think? I'm not privy to all the details, nor do I wish to be, but I gather there are some timing issues to do with theMuggle equivalent of the Wizengamot , which has been out of session. But they have some evidence of things that have been done, including some that I've helped them procure, and they're going to be able to move forward with it, and then we see." Adrian looked up from his contemplation of the burning cigarette to Marcus. "I'm somewhat surprised you're not involved in the matter, but I suppose that's the way theWizengamot works. I don't know whether to be sorry about not having time to take a seat or not."
"We've been fairly segregated when it comes to what we're working on." Marcus' face showed his irritation with the organisation's system of meetings and discussions, where much was talked about but very little was being done. The only place where he could see clear progress being made was in the area of protection, and he had the feeling that that was more due to Charlie's flagrant flouting of 'parliamentary procedure' than anything else. "You're probably getting more done on your own."
"And that would be why I chose to do what was needful on my own," Adrian said agreeably, passing the fag back to Marcus as an unspoken order to self-medicate. "I keep the government privately apprised of my progress to avoid a charge of treason, and otherwise keep on doing what needs to be done. My efforts predate theirs, but that doesn't mean I should require them to duplicate the work."
Marcus accepted the Healer's advice, taking a long drag and handing back the dwindling stub. Adrian's efforts were sounding so much more useful than his own, and he was beginning to wish he had remained a free agent. "And what needs to be done, at the moment?"
"Honestly? Really honestly?" Adrian looked Marcus right in the eye, without pushing into the other man's mind in the slightest. "I think we need to decide whether we're hanging on to the tatters of secrecy or giving it up." He took a last hit from the butt and offered it once more to Marcus.
He had a relatively pleasant buzz going, so he held up his hand, declining to finish the last of the fag. "A few months ago I would have had a very different answer than I do now. When this is over and done with," he eyed Adrian, "if it ever is, how could we possibly remain separate from the rest of the world? We don't have the resources toobliviate that many people, not any more."
Adrian tossed the butt down and extinguished it with his wand, then vanished it with another word. There was no point in being a bad neighbour to other climbers. "If we're lucky we won't get an announcement on the telly. The old men won't like it, and I don't, much, either. But on the other hand, then I could practise my skills openly and help a lot more people, and I wouldn't be dependent on illegal sources forMuggle drugs, most likely. So I can see both sides for myself. If they decide we're human, it might work."
The phrase grated on Marcus, but the cannabis had done its work, allowing him to consider the issue without letting irritation act as his primary response. He thought briefly of Astoria, and sighed. "There should be a way to tip that scale in our favour. I wonder if we could take out public service announcements on their wireless? Not exactly that, but send out information, slowly, that would make them more likely to accept us."
"Don't get me started on propaganda. The best propaganda is meeting people and letting them see we're human. Wireless or telly interviews would help, I reckon, but it's all really down to how people feel. I'd rather have a carrot and a stick. We're friendly, and the people who want to kill us might slip up and kill you, so put a leash on them." Adrian flashed a cynical grin at Marcus.
"Not enough of us to meet," Marcus murmured, picking up a flat stone and rubbing it between his fingers. "They're already afraid of their own government, so the stick won't be quite as difficult to produce. Getting them to accept us, though..." he shook his head.
"If we go that way, that's our job," Adrian said firmly, and decided it was time to change the subject. "But enough about my philosophical worries; I reckon you get enough of this shit in theWizengamot chambers. What's going on with you?"
The stone ran back and forth across the backs of Marcus' fingers as he thought about the question. He was not up to the verbal sparring that would result from most of them, so he settled on something more abstract. "I've been takingocclumency lessons with Draco," he said, his eyes on the stone.
"You have?" Adrian sounded surprised, but not unduly so. "How's that going?"
"It's hard to tell, actually. He's not much of a talker." Marcus thought back over the hours he had spent sitting across from Draco, his mind continually battered. It wasn't what one would call enjoyable, but the times he was able to keep Draco out, even for a short amount of time, were certainly satisfying. "I expected to have a little more theory before we jumped right into the practical application."
"Occlumency is a practical art," Adrian said, sounding not at all surprised himself. "How long are you able to hold out for now?"
"Doesn't seem all that long to me," Marcus shrugged, dropping the stone onto the dusty ground, "especially if I'm not prepared for it." Those were the worst. He had taken to preparing himself at least thirty meters from the front door. "I expect it takes years of study to actually become a master."
Adrian nodded. "It's a hard art to practise, too. There aren't a lot of people you can try it with. Now that you've started learning it, do you find it of any practical use? Or is it at all what you expected?" Curious blue eyes rested on Marcus as he waited for his answer.
Now it was Marcus turn for a cynical grin. "I tend to practise while visiting Dungate House," he said, with a cough that might have been a laugh. "I have no idea whether it's helpful or not, but I find it amusing to imagine that I'm thwarting a few ancient wizards whenever I'm there." Wiping the dirt from his hands, he added, "I don't know that I was expecting anything in particular, other than it would be quite difficult and I would likely end up loathing my instructor." The grin remained as he looked back at Adrian.
"If you're not feeling it, you're not foiling it." It sounded like a maxim. "At least you're getting some amusement value out of it. I hope you never have to practise against a hostilelegilimens. It's not fun." Adrian said the last bit definitively, as if he'd had some experience at it. "Do you mean to learn legilimency afterwards?"
"It hasn't been any fun with Master Malfoy, believe me." Marcus frowned, considering Adrian's question. "I hadn't considered the need for legilimency, to be honest. Do you think I should? I mean, are they linked in technique somehow, so that it would be easier to master one if the other were also being studied?"
"I learned them together, but that's necessary in my field. I wouldn't think you'd need to learn legilimency unless you had a reason to go poking around in people's minds." Adrian's eyebrows went up inquiringly.
Marcus let out a breath that he hadn't noticed he had been holding. "It's not something I plan to do, no." He paused, his head cocked thoughtfully. "Do you expect it's easier to learn one if you already know the other?" It wasn't an area of study that he felt comfortable with, but he hated to lose an opportunity if there might be a future need.
Adrian frowned thoughtfully. "I can't imagine learning legilimency without the precaution of protection. Even if you learnt legilimency first, the idea of the naked mind would probably send you screaming back to learn occlumency. But it's relatively common--for values of common meaning extremely rare in the first place--to learn occlumency without proceeding further."
"Well then, I'm going about it in the right direction, I suppose. For now, the protection of occlumency, and, if there is ever an urgent call for it..." he shrugged, not finishing the sentence.
There was a nod from Adrian's side of the makeshift stone table. "Let's hope you don't end up needing either."