1996-01-18: The Stage is Set


Jake_icon.gif Siobhan_icon.gif

Scene Title The Stage is Set
Synopsis Siobhan and Jake iron out some of the particulars behind this 'epic play'.
Location Hogwarts, Ministry and the Leaky Cauldron
Date January 18, 1996
Watch For Lots of foreshadowing and also some epic silliness between these two
Logger The Bad Wolf

Perhaps dreading the mental ass-kicking Siobhan is likely to provide him once again, Jake decided that he was just going to get this over with early in the day. So that perhaps he can spend the rest of it recovering with a drink or five in hand. There's no suit and tie today. But the jeans and button down shirt and still thoroughly Americana. He simply can't help himself. Designer too, obviously. Because they're cut to fit. A knock on the door heralds his arrival, with a winning smile cast at some student scurrying past who stops to stare for a second before giggling and continuing on her way. Yep, that'll be alllllllllll over the school by next class.

In contrast, Siobhan is dressed up today, in black kitten heels, a short - and impossibly tight - pencil skirt and sapphire silk camisole under a figure-accentuating black blazer. Strands of her hair are twisted back and pinned to the sides of her head, the soft curls providing a very retro 40's look, which is totally ruined by the smoky eyes and glossy lips. She looks just like any young barrister or doctor about to leave for work, it's really only the necklace and earrings of sapphires and chocolate diamonds that hints at her higher caste.

The knock at the door startles her, bent over the paperwork on her desk as she is. A flick of her wrist releases the wards on the door, but she does not open it that way. Instead, she calls a simple "Come in." Keyed to alert her to several important magical signatures, her wards only tell her that it's not one of those. Because of that - and likely the distracted nature of her thumbing through paperwork - she simply assumes it's a student and pays it little mind.

Well shoot, now he’s going to get himself killed. Soon as he opens the door a low whistle escapes Jake's throat before he can reign himself in, and then he clears his throat. “Wow. You look… fantastic.” He decides, settling on a word that doesn't imply more then he knows he’d be able to get. “Were you about to go out somewhere? I can…” he gestures back at the door. And, AND, keeps his eyes UP. Yes he does. He’s American yes, but all those years of military service and discipline he enforced on himself ensure he very polite.

The low whistle catches her attention first - none of her students at this point would dare - and a confused Siobhan looks up from her folder of paperwork. "Oh, Mister Morgan, good morning. I'm sorry, I thought you were one of my fifth years." There's nothing antagonistic in her tone, but she's definitely still wary - beware Greeks bearing gifts!

"I actually have a free period this morning and had planned to use it to take some paperwork down to the Ministry." By now, scuttlebutt about her father's law for the creation of the summer safe house for underage students is pretty common, so Siobhan isn't too worried about the various forms, letters and data sheets being seen as she files them into a black leather briefcase. No matter how much she piles in there, though, the thing never seems to fill out, though it does close with a satisfying 'click'. "But you and I need to talk anyway, really."

A snap of her fingers causes the case to shrink down to the size of her thumbnail - easily slipped into a blazer pocket - and she can't resist a bright smile. She's been working on that trick for a while, now. "So if you don't mind coming with me to the Ministry for a moment, we can discuss it over a late breakfast afterwards?"

“No ma’am. Though I would be lying if I said I didn't wish I were that young again.” Used to wary, he is. “I haven’t been to the Ministry much; maybe you can show me around a bit while we’re there.” He suggests then, apparently having no problem with the idea of tagging along as she tends to other legal matters. “And I suspect we do have a few things to discuss, so that sounds ideal. Stopping for breakfast, that is.” Is amended, while he gestures at the door. How quaint. “After you, of course. Ladies first.”

He’ll even stuff his hands in his pockets to appear less, well, himself. If it helps.

Siobhan snorts dry amusement at the visual that brings. "I don't know if Hogwarts would survive if that happened. You're about the same age as my brother Jack and the two of you as teenagers would be mildly … terrifying." Preceding him out the door, she then stands to one side to let him follow her so that she can shut, lock and ward it behind them.

"Our Ministry is fairly centralized, compared to yours." One building instead of a city. "We don't integrate as closely with our Muggles." She manages to move down the spiral stairs and through her empty classroom with surprising grace considering the delicate nature of the heels she wears. There's even a small grin tossed over her shoulder as they step out into the hallway. "People here are closer to their roots. Magic isn't so far off from this land that we can fool them into thinking it's just 'tech'."

Jake is not above admiring that surprising grace, especially with the heels she’s wearing. No, he’s quite happy to be following behind Miss Noble for the scant few seconds she allows before locking the door and warding it. “I was more than just mildly terrifying as a teenager I should probably admit. It’s why I joined the marines.”

He’s not much less terrifying now actually, except for the part where he knows how to use his influence the right way. “ I've seen that, since arriving. It’s an interesting contrast. Both methods have their merits in the long run, I believe. It would even be nice to see more student exchanges. Kids are a lot more open to differences in culture it seems.” Mostly. He’s also content to amble along at a comfortable pace; no need for the confident swagger today. Sio has totally got that covered.

It's only a short trip down the grand staircase this time. Funny how some trips seem to get timed just right with the shifting of the stone steps. From there, Siobhan follows the path out through the courtyard and down to the covered bridge. "I never did a proper exchange." She wrinkles her nose in thought. "Now that I think about it though, I don't know anyone who has. We do travel extensively with our families, though. Maybe that's enough." Poor Sio. For someone who's seen - and even lived in - the London slums, she can be appallingly naive about the reality of family life, sometimes.

About 3/4 down the slope of the hill past the bridge - still about half a mile from the village - she suddenly stops. "We can make the jump from here." Turning to look at her companion, she seems to consider. "If you've never been before, it'd probably be best if I took us." Just to be safe.

“You’re missing out!” Jake exclaims. “You ever want to see what it’s like overseas just let me know. I bet you’d get a kick out of Manhattan, even if you wouldn't want to live there. May even be surprised by how in tune with nature and magic some places are. Admittedly, those places are far away from the urban sprawl.” He’s walked these paths a few times now, and seems able to navigate without having to keep too close an eye on what steps she takes and where. So he doesn't exactly fit in, but he’s not entirely the sore thumb that he was the first time he arrived either.

And his reaction time is still impressive; stopping only a fraction of a second after she does, and spinning on his heel to regard her warmly. “That’s probably a good idea. I wouldn't want to apparate us inside a wall.” He agrees dryly, holding out his arm. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Siobhan shudders. "Yes, I'd prefer all my guts to stay on the inside, thanks." It's dry humor, okay? Taking his offered arm, she inhales sharply and the two of them disappear with a soft 'pop'.

Only to re-appear in an abandoned alleyway near a red phone booth. "Aha, in we go!" she gestures for him to precede. After all, she's tiny and can fit in the spare space, though it'll be a tight fit. "Siobhan Noble and Jake Morgan with documents for the office of Sir Michael Noble." She is very careful to enunciate clearly once the doors close. Two badges pop out from the change slot on the phone. Taking the one labeled 'Professor Noble', she offers the other to her companion. "I've been to New York." Her voice is a bit muffled by the close quarters as she pins her tag in place. "Mostly in the Bronx, but Mum has a flat in Upper Manhattan we stay in for the Spring and Autumn shows." Lady Edana is … well, kind of a staple in the fashion world. For her patronage, not her taste. Obviously.

Jake isn't exactly thrilled with this whole phone booth thing. He eyes the small space dubiously before stepping in and taking the badge that Siobhan gives him with his name on it. He utters not a single word of complaint however, when he pins the thing to his shirt. In fact, his expression seems rather more stoic then what she's been used to seeing the past few times he's made an appearance. His inner security expert is taking notes.

"You must come here often." He muses, before acknowledging her time in NYC with a quiet grunt. "Spring and Autumn shows?" Yeah, he's military. Not fashion. These things need to be spelled out.

"Ever since I was a little girl." Siobhan is unashamed, even smiling a little at the admission. "When your family is as close-knit as mine, boundaries like 'work' and 'school' don't tend to mean much." Ruefully spoken, but it's a closeness that she thrives on, even when it seems a bit much.

"Oh." She blinks and blushes a little. "Sorry, the um, big fashion shows run twice a year. Once with the spring lines and once with the fall lines. Mum's kinda … a fixture." She notices his watchfulness and tilts her head to one side curiously. "Old habits?" Okay, so she just might be teasing him. Maybe a little. "The Aurors and the rest of the MLE and even MLEIA have their headquarters here, to say nothing of the centuries of wards reinforced by the most powerful witches and wizards of each generation." She shakes her head, not judging just explaining. "If you can't be at Hogwarts, your next best bet is here."

There’s a brief vulnerable moment when Jake looks wistful at her admittance, but it’s quickly shut down with brief nod. “That’s the sort of thing I want for my nephew. He deserves it after all he’s been put through by his parents.” It sounds gruff when he says it, but he’s soooo obviously trying not to come across as wimpy or something.

Fashion….show? Hey, watch the color drain from the man’s face like water down the sink! Woo! Yeah, he’ll be avoiding those shows like the –plague-, and fervently hoping his presence is never, ever expected if things go as he’s carefully laid out. Because everything goes the way he plans for, right? Right?? Panic, panic, p.. ahem. “Sorry, yes. Old habits. Always find the closest way out. Know every door and exit. Prepare for anything… you know, that sort of thing.” Is admitted. “I agree, it’s as safe as possible. But I don’t think I’ll ever break that training.”

There's a sharp nod of approval, there. "Nor should you." Siobhan is impressed. She is used to needing every small observation that comes her way - seriously, look at her best friend. The wistfulness is spied, but it's there and gone so quickly that Sio's not entirely certain she saw it at all. "Tell me about him?" she asks quietly.

As for fashion … his horror and discomfort make Siobhan laugh out loud. "See, you tough guys make it so easy. I know neither Jet nor Severus would disappoint me because they know I'd find a way to force them into something like that." Fashion shows, the horror. Nice to know he'll fit into her world so easily! Nevertheless, there's nothing malicious about the grin she flashes him as the doors spring open on the Atrium floor - just playful.

Jake may be uncomfortable opening up like that about his family, but given what he’s asking Siobhan to do? He looks at her a moment and then begins talking. “My sister fell in with the wrong crowd early, just like I did. Despite all our advantages.” He’ll cop to his own faults too, obviously. “And one of them was the kid’s father. Without going in to details, he’s doing time for murdering her. So you can imagine what he’s been through. I was in training, or deployed, or on missions… I didn't know until it was too late. So I have only a couple years to make up to him what I could have prevented.” It’s taking personal responsibility to the extreme, but one doesn't convince a man like him that he couldn't have stopped it. “But for all that? He’s really a good kid. Smart as a whip, and very talented musician. He just needs direction and patience.”

Her laughter at his distaste for fashion is met with a droll smile, and then a chuckle at himself there. “ Shouldn't have given that one away, huh?” He sighs playfully, and makes a mental note to talk to Jethro about more of these ‘traps’ that could be set. “Find a man’s weakness and use it ruthlessly. I can admire that.”

Following him out of the phone booth, Siobhan offers a showy sort of curtsy, laughing a bit as she does. "But of course," she replies, seemingly quite unchastised by his remark about ruthlessness. "I am a serpent, after all." With him - someone who grew up without those prejudices - she can make that joke.

She'll listen in quiet contemplation while he talks about his nephew and something like determination settles into the angle of her jaw. "He'll be welcomed here." In her family, it's kind of a 'more the merrier' mindset. "Is he school-age, yet?" That may have been in the file, but she doesn't remember. Her eyes are never still, searching the crowded atrium for a familiar - there. "Richard!" she calls out, lifting her hand to catch the attention of a small, thin man in his late 60's. Lowering her voice for Jake only, she explains, "My father's clerk," and steps forward to meet him.

"These are the documents Da needs. Everything but the letters are enclosed, but I'll collect those by the end of the week." That way they're not included in public evidence until the actual hearings begin. Richard, the quietly efficient man that he is, merely offers Siobhan a small smile and a quick bow before disappearing into the crowd.

"The Ministry makes me sick, sometimes," Siobhan admits to Jake. "We have a proposal for a safe place to house the children without families during the summer holidays, but before the law can even be officially proposed we have to go through hearings to determine if even the idea is legal." Shaking her head, she does her best to put her disgust away, bury it for a while so that business can be conducted. "Right, breakfast. There's a cafe in the atrium here or we can find somewhere in London." His choice.

“Ah, you refer to House Slytherin.” Jake knows that much from ‘doing his homework’. “I’ve been tempted to sneak the sorting hat onto my own head, see where it puts me.” He admits jovially, a bit of mischief in his voice there for it too. “Oh yes, he’s 12. So he’ll be starting his magical schooling when the next school year begins. It’s part of why I've brought him over here so early. I want him to get used to things here beforehand. No matter what happens, I want him at Hogwarts and not the school back in the States. I've been able to secure special arrangement for that much since I’ve taken on a few security projects in London for the firm and insisted I oversee it from here.”

One of his patented military ‘I am totally sucking up’ smiles appears when Richard’s attention is gained by Sio, and he nods at her for explaining who the man is. But he’s gone before any greeting can be spoken. “ Bureaucracy is the same everywhere. You can’t do a thing until everything is signed in triplicate and at least 5 people who don’t know their ass from their elbow get a chance to pick it apart.” See? Who knows! A grimace of distaste accompanies the statement of course. “Here is fine. Unless you know of a place in London that serves homemade… anything.” It’s obviously been takeout and room service for awhile.

12? "Don't they start at 11 in America?" They certainly do here! "Salem's not so bad." It's not Hogwarts - nothing ever can be Hogwarts to those who spent their formative years there - but she's got a fond spot for it all the same. "My brother teaches there. Charms." Although he proooobably already knows that, given the amount of much more sensitive information he's managed to be privy to. She happens to agree with him about bureaucracy, but leaves it with just a 'hmph'. As for homemade food … "You been to the Leaky, yet?" It's been a while since she's been able to go. "Tom's got a good cook."

“His birthday’s at an awkward time. And he only recently came into my care.” Jake admits, hinting that the entire situation is a fresh one. Like a wound that’s not open, but you still wouldn't want to be pouring salt on anyway. “Oh, it’s not the school I've a problem with. I don’t want his father’s family to have access to him.” And he leaves it at that, his tone suggesting that he would probably rather eat shards of glass then let ‘those people’ spend time with his nephew. “The Leaky? Nope, can’t say I have. Let’s head there then.” He agrees, turning back towards the way they came. Though with his luck, the exit has probably moved to the other side of the building or something.

Ahhh - and the light bulb goes off for Siobhan. "I've a couple students like that. It's harder for them, sometimes, I think, but not all that uncommon." Her expression darkens a little at the implications behind that statement and she lays a hand against his arm for just a moment. "If only you knew how many of my snakes I can't save from people like that." There's almost a snarl in her voice about it. Good button to push, Jake. There's no question she'll protect this kid, now.

When he turns on his heel back to where they came from, however, she laughs at him outright. "Over here, Morgan." Grabbing his elbow, she'll lead him toward a line of massive fireplaces along both walls if he'll allow. "Much easier by Floo." The Leaky is a wizarding establishment, then. Grabbing a fistful of powder from the urn set into the wall, she flings it into the empty space with a firm call of "The Leaky Cauldron!". And whoosh! Away she goes, her departure clouded with a puff of green smoke.

“I’m counting on your protectiveness, Siobhan. You’re making me hope he’s sorted into Slytherin.” That’s about as sentimental as Jake gets right now. He’s been holding his cards fairly close to the vest, all business and contracts and what he has to offer as compensation for his outrageous request. But that he’s roused a protective instinct in her now reassures him, and his expression softens this time when he nods.

But then, it’s back to the put upon sigh and roll of his eyes that he’s led by the laughing-at-him snake woman. “You’ll need, at least once, to allow me an opportunity to feel at least slightly superior. Just once!” he counters, watching her disappear in the puff of green smoke before he follows her lead and whooooooooshes through magical time and space to land in the Leaky Cauldron.

Sio has to laugh at that, though it's not meant to be cruel. "Not if he's anything like you, he won't." There's a half-apologetic smile for that. "You've gotta be a little bit ruthless just to survive. If he doesn't have that naturally, I wouldn't wish my House on him for all the world. Britain is not kind to her snakes." There's something a little bittersweet about that line, but she's quick to move on, offering Tom a cheerful wave before sitting at one of the 'tables for two' by the window.

She clucks her tongue and laughs a little. "Nope!" And doesn't she just pop that 'p'. "You want to feel superior, you gotta earn it." Noble women tend to be forces of nature, you know. Just … so long as he's ready for what he's in for and all!

Ordering a coffee to start - hot, creamy and sweet - Siobhan looks to Jake for his choice and then thanks the lanky redhead (who so looks like she's just undressing Jake with her eyes). Once their space is their own again, she takes a deep breath and steels herself. This is the unpleasant part of the conversation. "I've been put in the unfortunate position, Mister Morgan, where the lives that depend on the secrets I keep are more important than my own." And there's a viciously protective fire to her eyes at that. "Before either of us proceeds further in this … " she pauses, then borrows a word from Sev, "… endeavor, I think you need to understand what it is, exactly, that you're hopping into bed with." See? She can be funny too! "But I need to know without a shadow of a doubt that even if you decide this isn't a good idea, those secrets will not go astray. I'm sure you understand."

“We’ll see.” Jake counters, with that confidence that probably marks him a Gryffyndor material. “Kid’s had to be ruthless till now, after all. I’d like to be there somewhere on his first day, for the sorting. Just to see.” He’s curious, and can’t quite hide it. And it’s sentimental, but he won’t admit it. His gaze rests on her shrewdly for a moment at her allusion to how the Slytherin are treated. But he doesn't press and is equally glad to shift topics.

He orders his coffee black, no sugar of course. He’s so used to military sludge that he’s never broken the habit. He doesn't even grimace, not even a little bit, with the first sip. Just smacks his lips like it reminds him of the good ole’ days. “And here I was thinking I’d have to get used to tea.” He quips, only sparing the waitress a brief acknowledging glance that she’s helping them. He’s got far too much disciplined to respond to the bedroom eyes, thanks! His appreciative smirk is for her humor there, but he nods in all seriousness. “I’m going to suggest we dispense with the honorifics and last names.” Is pointed out smoothly. “As for secrets… I’m very good at keeping those. I would do nothing to hurt any of those who are under your care. Not now, not in the future. No matter what we decide.”

Siobhan snorts at that. "Yeah, we'll see." Total Gryffindor! "Usually parents aren't allowed at the Sorting Feast, but since it's kind of … unusual circumstances…" She'll see what strings she can tug on. A guy oughta be able to have some sense that his only family is safely settled before he dies. It's one of the things that makes her get along with Jethro so well, her sense of what is right, even when it's not always what's allowed.

That black sludge is eyed with just a little mistrust. "No. Well, I mean, there are still some die-hards who'll drink tea until the day they die." Rather like certain colleagues of hers. "But it's not a rule anymore. Too many under 30's live off the stuff, so no one can afford not to sell it." Her own sweet drink is sipped at gratefully. "You sure about that?" The dropping of honorifics and such. "I figured you'd prefer Mister Morgan over Captain Ameripants." Because, no offense, but this guy kinda … oozes Red White & Blue.

And that last … That last brings a wistful expression to cloud Siobhan's warm brown eyes. "I believe you." There's an unspoken 'but' at the end of that trailed off statement. "I wish I still lived in the world where I could simply go with my gut and trust people." But she's been burned and things are just not safe enough. A small roll of parchment - no bigger than her pointer finger - is handed across to him. "All it asks is that you agree not to - through any action or lack of action - willfully give away the following information to anyone who doesn't already know." And all it needs is his signature.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Jake nods, accepting that she’ll do what she can, even though she didn't say it out loud. He laughs outright at the die-hards drinking tea until the day they die. “Makes you temped to sneak a little drop of coffee into the cup once in awhile, just to see if they’ll notice doesn't it?” He looks like he’d enjoy playing that prank on somebody, and hell with the consequences.

“Captain Ameripants. I told Cole about that one; kid nearly rolled off the bed and wet himself laughing.” He shakes his head. “So I chased him up and down the hallways disturbing all the other hotel guests as I declared war on him. I caught him, and tickled him mercilessly until he gave in, and promised only to call me –Commander- Ameripants.” What? If someone can’t laugh at themselves once in awhile then things really *have* gone to hell in a hand-basket.

Trust Jake to come armed with a writing implement as well. He looks at the parchment because no SEAL is going to sign something he hasn't read. But, he then scribbles his name on it without blinking and hands it back. “I trust that will alleviate your concerns.”

Now at that, Siobhan almost snorts her coffee, laughing into her napkin until she's just a little pink in the face. "Okay, so there's hope for him, if not you." The tip of her tongue just pokes out through the side of her toothy grin. She's playing.

And actually, no. Him signing it does not make her feel better. It makes her feel worse, because it's come to things like this. Nevertheless, she feels safer with it back in her possession. "The first part I'm pretty sure you guessed before we did, so that's easy." Not having to talk about the nebulous … something between her and her best friend is a Good Thing. She's still nervous and uncertain and entirely unwilling to even really talk about it lest it crush the hope she's holding to so tightly.

"Second is that I spent six months with my soul tied to portrait magic and we still don't know what it did to me exactly." So there might be surprises in the future. "Third is that ring on my right hand." Ring? What ring? "No, you can't see it. There's a reason for it." Blood magic tends to make people uneasy. "If we followed the old pureblood rites of marriage, you'd find your house joined to that of Noble and Slytherin." No, she does not seem inclined to talk about it, except to admit that, "It took more years off my life than I like to think about to gain that protection." So she's not likely to even try to give it up. Leaning back in her seat with her coffee in hand, Siobhan watches him intently. Three is enough to start with. Let's see how he handles those, first.

Making a playful face back, big bad Jake just snorts. “-Nice-“ is all he says, before they really get down to business. To the first, he nods with a bit of a smirk. She doesn’t want to talk more about it, he’s not going to talk more about it either. At least not now, his gaze possibly unsettling when it rests on her.

“Six months? Who let that go on for –six months-?” Angry on her behalf, it seems, his full-blown scowl into the depths of his coffe-sludge-mug would be intimidating for some. But he knows it isn't going to bother her at all, so it stays in place even when he lowers the cup. “Alright, on to the invisible ring. Are you telling me this so that we can find a way around the pureblood marriage rites and not rouse suspicion? Or so that I’m fully prepared for it.” Is asked evenly. Nothing seems to throw the man off, does it? He’s like immovable wall meets wrecking ball and where they collide it all just sticks together.

Now that, more than just about anything he could have said, puts Jake in the category of "You're alright" in Sio's book. Too few people really seem to grasp the fact that no, it was not okay being stuck that way for half a year. Too few people stick up for her that way. "Several factors." As angry as she is, she's not blind enough to lay the blame all in one source or another. "It was an old and unused curse and I was useful as I was."

Siobhan blinks. He catches on quick. … Cool. She has to roll her eyes at 'invisible ring', though. No wonder he and Jethro are friends. Same tendency to oversimplify in order to move forward. "The former," she answers. "For multiple reasons, but probably most importantly because of Number Four." Her mouth quirks up into a rueful kind of smile. "You saw some of it the day you interrupted practice." When she lost her temper and shattered a wall. "Jethro saw some of it because he snuck up on me and almost got knocked on his arse." There's a deep breath and she plunges in.

"One of the side-effects we do know about is that after so long being able to feel nothing, I was over-sensitized to absolutely everything once I was out." She pauses, leveling a serious gaze into his baby blues. "That included my magic." She shrugs. "Once I could feel it like that, it was only a matter of time and practice until I could get it to do what I wanted." Sheer, bull-headed determination, plus the help of a friend can do an awful lot. "Because of the nature of that practice, I'm pretty sure it's not entirely and exclusively my magic anymore." She stops and wrinkles her nose, trying to figure out how to say this right. "I mean, it is. I control it and it's mostly mine, but there's more to it. And the reality is that if I take on one of the old bonds, it'll bind someone else too, in some way I can't even imagine and I won't do that to someone who didn't choose it." Not even in a small way will Siobhan take away someone's choice like that.

If anything, the way Siobhan categorizes the incident as her being useful as she was makes his expression darken further. Perhaps he and Severus will speak about that one day, and who it was that found her ‘useful’ that way. He’s pretty sure it wasn't the portions master afterall. Nor does he bother to hide the way he latches on to her wording, his eyes briefly narrowing before his decision is made to broach the topic with someone who would probably be even more angry then he is, and he nods. Decision made.

“I’d never have the time needed to learn to control it the way you have anyway; not with chemotherapy draining me the way it will. Even with potions to assist. And having to try to, would only be a distraction from what we need to do in the time I have left. We can’t afford for anything unusual to happen with my abilities.” So, he may not be agreeing with her for the reasons she’s laying out but he’s agreeing. Something in his demeanor suggests he would freely accept a change or a chance like that under different circumstances (one doesn't became a SEAL because they aren't afraid to take chances with their life). But, he is practical and driven by his need to do this thing and do it properly. “There is nothing in the contract that says we need to use the pureblood marriage rights. And if there had been, I would have it removed. I’m good with illusion magic, so I may be able to make it look as if we’re doing things the old way if that is needed for your family. Will any of them see through it?”

Siobhan's a little thrown by the implication that he'd be willing to take on other people's magic under other circumstances, but the important thing is that under these ones, he's good with her plan.

"Oh good, I'm rubbish with Charms," she admits. "Kept me from going into the Auror program, too." And even though she loves teaching, that fact still rankles. "I don't think they'd notice, mostly because if you're asking to marry me then I'd be the only one with a reason to fake it and they are all painfully aware of how little I know on the subject." So they'd never believe she could pull off a fake. "I don't even think they'd be looking for one, but … " She sighs. "Others might be." Looking for a fake, that is. "I had thought that it might be best if we did it in America. Make a big social thing of it over there where people don't know me as well. Take lots of pictures, give the Prophet something to run a centerfold story on, but keep the general public at a safe distance." She takes another sip of her coffee. "We can say that I've agreed to do the wedding there with your people since we'll be living here with mine." And doesn't that just sound like the kind of rich old-blood family nonsense politics that people would lap right up?

There’s a moment where Jake’s obviously worrying over something; it’s the way his eyes go distant and he actually *relaxes* back into his chair that suggests it. “It’s a good idea, and we can make it work.” He promises. “We’ll just tighten security. Put wards in place so that none of the father’s side of the family can get to Cole. I can work with that.” Pause. “We can work with that. We should tell your family about his… past. Make sure they’ll keep him company and surrounded the whole time. If they’re even half as protective as you are, I needn’t be concerned.” That apparently worked out in his mind, there is a distinct nod of agreement, accompanied by a pained grimace. “This the kind of politicking the rest of your family has to go through when they get married? If so, remind me to set up a shipment of whiskey for each of them; to be delivered during the planning stages of their future weddings.”

Siobhan grins, a wicked and dangerous slant to the expression. "Don't worry about that. One thing I can promise is that not even Voldemort himself makes it through the Noble clan when we're all together." They're kind of a scary bunch, okay? "It gets worse, actually." Siobhan is mildly amused by the 'case of whiskey' idea, though. "There's never an easy way. Either there's all kinds of politics and negotiations that go in because one family can't appear to have the advantage over the other in any of it. Or, if you dare to marry outside what's "approved of" you've still got to wrestle with the politics of bringing an 'outsider' into their world." And though she rolls her eyes at it, Siobhan isn't disrespectful. She understands it. "These families have survived some truly horrible things over the last hundred years or so. They've become insular because it's how they've survived this long." It's so easy to blame the rich when things go wrong; their lives always seem so much better. "So," she concludes, tipping back the rest of her coffee. "When do you want to kick this show off?"

"Good. We'll give everyone a grand showing then, won't we." Jake agrees, partly amused and partly horrified by all of the politics involved in these old blooded families joining together. "It's understandable with everything that's happened in the last hundred years of course. But it makes me somewhat relieved that my parents never had the chance to tell me all of this." he mutters around the rim of his coffee cup.

His expression sharpens only mildly when she asks when they should kick the show off - and he gestures her way of course. "Whenever you're ready, Siobhan. Whenever you're ready. An announcement will have to be made, I know. And then we'll make the arrangements back in the States."

Ooooh, he hit the nail right on the head, once again. If there's anything Siobhan likes, it's a good bout of theatrics. It's fun. "They'll never know what hit 'em." And since he's put the impetus on her to 'fire the pistol' so to speak, she only gives him the warning of a wink and a grin before moving like quicksand around the table and onto his lap with a sudden smacking kiss on the mouth. "But of course, darling. I can't wait to tell them." She says it just loud enough so that old gossip Tom can hear as well as see. Quieter, up against his ear, she whispers. "That would be your cue to pay and sweep me off out the front door, Cap'n."

You could probably knock Jake over with a feather when Siobhan lands a smacking kiss on his lips. But he plays along as if born to the role as it were, and winks at his new-found fiance when he stands up abruptly and sweeps her into hug. "You won't be sorry." he promises, though it means nothing like what anybody hearing it will think. He dumps far too many Sickles and Galleons on the table to pay for their meal and provide a generous tip before indeed… guiding them both out the door with a grin that's reminiscent of the 'cat who ate the canary'.

Any additional notes fall to the bottom.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License