[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

Summer had come, but limbo continued endlessly. The aftermath of visiting Azkaban was far greater than Odhrán could have ever anticipated. His clinic remained closed, his magic was still recovering and some of the emotional blows he had suffered were still weighing heavily on his mind.

However, with his break from routine had come time to reflect. He'd come to the conclusion that if he kept everything he knew to himself and tried to solve his problems on his own, he wouldn't get very far. This was now bigger than him and there was more at stake than just his family name and reputation. He needed allies and fast.

One of the few people Odhrán knew that he considered both trustworthy and an asset was Pyxis Abercrombie. The other man only revealed himself slowly, but Odhrán was reasonably certain they held similar convictions. Maybe, they weren't a perfect match, but they had more in common than not. Perhaps, Abercrombie would be open to a lose cooperation.

As a first step, he'd invited Pyxis to his home in Arranmore. It was the first time things were getting this personal. Though they'd spent plenty of time together studying legillimency techniques it had never been just a social occasion. Odhrán felt somewhat apprehensive if Pyxis would even come and if this new dynamic would be welcome. Sure, Pyxis had visited him in hospital when he had been unwell, but Odhrán continued to have his doubts. The young Abercrombie could be so aloof and Odhrán didn't exactly make friends easily among his pureblood peers.

It had been ages since anybody had come by the house and the few elves remaining at Ard na Mara were certainly not used to entertaining. That last time had been when... Well, there was an unwelcome thought. The separation from his ex-girlfriend was still fresh on his mind. Nearly dying had changed his perspective on so many things including that relationship.

Though it made little sense, he found himself pacing up and down the foyer at Ard na Mara. Four o'clock was approaching and soon he would know more about the nature of their friendship. Was Pyxis all in? The letter he'd sent had been cryptic, suggesting there were some people they might want to discuss, but he hadn't dared to commit anything else to the page and compromise them both.

The fragrant citrus smell of punch romaine was starting to waft from the kitchen. Really, the elves had gone for that? It seemed dated to Odhrán's sensibilities, but maybe Pyxis would like it. The Abercrombies had a reputation for being quite traditional, but punch romaine, maybe that was just a step to far. He would have to wait and see.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

If someone had told Pyxis several months ago he'd establish a close working relationship, and dare he say it friendship, with the owner of a medical practice in Knockturn Alley he'd have assumed they were drunk before quickly ending the conversation. However, after numerous encounters with the older wizard, the Abercrombie had developed a deep respect for the man. Odhrán was intelligent with a level of prestige one wouldn't expect of someone with such a dubious profession. Pyxis also appreciated the man's aloof and practical nature. The Abercrombie had never been one for dealing with unseemly displays of emotions. Not to mention the fact, on a more pragmatic level, his Legilimency skills had come on leaps and bounds under the healer's tuition. With his focus on using Legilimency to heal and connect rather than infiltrate with discretion he'd been able to learn a lot about the art not focused on by first his Grandfather and later his tutors in the Department of Mysteries.

Nonetheless, it had been a surprise when he received an invitation to visit his pseudo mentor in his home on the island of Aaranmore. At first he had considered coming up with an excuse to decline the invitation. It wouldn't have been too hard; a last minute emergency at work, a social function he simply couldn't miss at the bequest of his Cousin Farren, they all would have survived as believable albeit flimsy excuses. However, he'd decided against such avoidance techniques. Perhaps it would be good for him to risk becoming close to someone other his cousin. Especially now when she was at the beginning stages of a courtship with the O'Dwyer heir.

Besides, the contents of the letter had been too intriguing to ignore. Who were the people that Odhrán wanted to discuss further with him? Was the sinking feeling in his stomach Odhrán wanted to discuss the self-proclaimed Dark Lord and those who had chosen to follow him correct? And if so what exactly did the Irish man wish to discuss? Pyxis doubted it would be a recruitment exercise. Odhrán had seemed as disgusted with what they saw in the mind of one of his follower's victims as Pyxis had been. Could it have been a plea to stand against the man? Surely not! Odhrán didn't strike him as the type to follow the Gryffindor way of leaping into danger without consideration of the consequences. And besides Farren's mother and grandmother had thrown themselves behind the Dark Lord's cause. While Pyxis had no use in joining the mad man and his merry band of followers going against his family was unfathomable.

The Pureblood had managed to procure a Portkey from a contact in the Department of Magical Transportation. While he could have feasibly travelled the distance, it was thankfully not transatlantic, he had never been to the island before which made the destination portion of the magic decidedly more difficult.

It was for that reason he appeared roughly ten minutes from Odhrán's home with a silver pocket watch in hand. The wizard promptly cast several muggle repellent charms before making his way to the home of his acquaintance. The Purebloods eyes widened in shock when he first took in the sight of the overgrown shrubbery that covered the exterior. The Irish certainly had a peculiar way of doing things he thought with bemusement before he shook his head and continued the journey to the healer's home. At precisely four pm he was knocking the other man's door loudly.

When Odhrán himself answered, rather than an elf or a servant, he was somewhat surprised but didn't comment instead waiting for the other to invite himself. "Odhrán, thank you for inviting me" he greeted politely with a warm smile to emphasis the words. His smile widened as he took in a familiar scent. "Is that Punch Romaine? Why I can't even remember the last time I had it" he commented truthfully before his eyes took in the foyer while waiting on his friend to begin proceedings.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

"I would imagine around 1902 when it was last in fashion," Odhrán joked about the Punch Romaine. "You must excuse my elves and appalling manners. As I am sure you can piece together that I don't normally entertain guests or invite anybody out to Árainn Mhór. We're really not set up for it anymore, but it would have been preposterous to make you come all the way to castle Wenger in Bern just for a chat."

Odhrán gave a jovial smile. "Unless you fancy Switzerland some time. We do have good chocolate." He managed to do a pretty close impression of his uncle's Bern accent. "And at least one fountain per family member. All the fountains."

Merlin, this was strange. Odhrán rarely discussed the Swiss side of his family with anyone. He'd always felt predominantly Irish, but there was no denying that he was a Wenger just as much as an Ó Dálaigh. He'd pretty much given his hand away on that one when he had managed to secure a visit to Azkaban.

"Anyway, come this way." Odhrán indicated a direction and was quick to usher Pyxis out of the hall before it could inspire any uncomfortable questions. The furnishings, checkered, black and white marble floor and the Grecian busts and statues on display were as grand as in any pureblood home, but he imagined that there weren't a lot of places that featured as many portraits of former Unspeakables as Ard na Mara. Most prominent in the entrance hall was probably the portrait of Oisín Ó Dálaigh, a former head of department.

There was another copy of Oisín Ó Dálaigh in the ministry's main library. He didn't think many people noticed it, but if anyone had he wouldn't have put it past Pyxis and he was clever enough to understand the implication of such a link.

They passed through the library with its blue and gold painted star chart ceiling, celestial compasses and arithmancy instrumentation before settling in a spacious sitting room that had been made up with fresh peony flowers that complemented the dark walls and burgundy red and ebony furnishings. Everything in Ard na Mara was far grander than anyone would have cause to assume upon meeting Odhrán. His presence seemed strangely modest amidst the splendour, yet perfectly grounded.

The punch was finally served and Odhrán raised his glass in a vague attempt at politeness. He wasn't a creature of society and Pyxis knew that. There was no benefit in pretending.

"I am sure you're curious why I issued the invitation," Odhrán cut straight to the chase. "I've had my doubts if I should, but I've decided you can be trusted. I think you might suspect that I may know a thing or two about, well, a thing or two. Have you noticed what Winthrop in your department is up to lately? If you haven't, I suggest you give that one a close look." He flexed his legillimency for a moment with a saccharine little smile, letting the implication sink in. "I think he may be over-sharing the details of your classified operations. And he's probably after Bullstrode's job."

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis snorted in amusement at Odhrán's dig at Punch Romaine. It was no issue in the Occlumens eyes; he wasn't exactly known for being one to insist on everything being modern. A warm smile appeared on his face at the mention of Swizz chocolate and the family fountains. "I remember" he stated simply. "When I graduated from Hogwarts I spent a year travelling Europe. I spent several of those weeks staying in Zurich. A beautiful city and the wizarding districts were certainly different to here in Britain." He figured if Odhrán was sharing what was the harm in him returning the favour?

The Pureblood nodded dutifully when Odhrán requested he follow him further into the house. A brow rose when they passed the portrait of Odhrán's famed ancestor. He had known the family had some associations with the Unspeakables. His sources had revealed some sort of fall out between his companions' maligned father and the Department. However, he hadn't been privy to the fact the connection went as deep as these portraits implied. That was the department of mysteries for you it was a riddle wrapped in an enigma.

Pyxis resisted the urge to request they stop a few minutes as they passed through the library. He had inherited his father's love for academia and he wouldn't be surprised if there were tomes here he wouldn't be able to access anywhere else. All the old Pureblood families tended to have them. Rare one of a kind texts written by particularly notable members of the family, or ancient manuscripts that had become worn and faded over time with only a few remaining intact with the help of specialist preservation charms. However, it would be rude to make such a request. Pyxis could easily imagine the fit his maternal grandfather would have thrown had someone been imprudent enough to request access to the rarer tomes held in the Hartridge family's estate. And besides he suspected they had much more important matters to tend to. 

When they arrived in the sitting area he took a seat in one of the available chairs. His gaze took in the admittedly tasteful décor. "I must confess to some curiosity" he answered honestly before he took his first sip of the punch. While it wasn't his drink of choice he had to admit the house elves had done a superb job.

"Winthrop" he repeated the name in a tone that did little to hide the disdain Pyxis felt for his colleague. On the surface, Pyxis and he had a lot of common. They both came from renowned families albeit the lower branches of said families and could be described as classically handsome. However, Winthrop was a mediocre wizard content to get by solely through the connections his family afforded him. Unlike Pyxis who worked hard to make his family proud and become a powerful wizard in his own right. The two of them had never gotten on. Pyxis liked to think it was because the man recognised Pyxis' position as a superior wizard and that grated.

"Winthrop couldn't lead a horse out of a stable much less help manage a department" he joked darkly in response to the idea of him getting Bulstrode's job. That job would be Pyxis and if he lost out on the opportunity it certainly wouldn't be to Winthrop of all people. "That wouldn't surprise me. The man would sell his own mother if he thought it would help him climb up the ladder." And for someone as loyal to their family as Pyxis that was a very damning assessment indeed.

The Legilimens sighed before he took another sip of the punch. His initial anger pass he decided it was time to get serious. "Have you any evidence to support this? It's not that I doubt you, but my superiors won't act on your word alone." The English man wasn't trying to offend. He simply stated the truth as he saw it. While his superiors in the magical office of Law weren't as strongly against the O D'alaigh clan as his superiors in the Department of Mysteries seemed to be they weren't going to accuse a colleague, risk offending the more influential members of his family without some proof to back it.

"But then you aren't telling me this so I can pass the knowledge on to my superiors are you?" And with that he risked this meeting going into very dangerous territory.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

"Oh, I don't give a rat's ass about The Department," Odhrán said with a bitter laugh. "We're not friends. You know why."

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he sighed. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and trying to decide just how much of his hand he was willing to reveal. Would he be all in? There was hesitation in his eyes, but eventually he made himself press on.

"Or maybe you don't. We've never really talked about it, have we? I just assumed that you knew, but assumptions are a funny thing. They're often not true."

He paused again. Odhrán was sure that Pyxis had read his family's file, but who was to say that these records actually contained the truth. History was written by the victors, and it was only logical that they would have recorded the incident in a way that corroborated their version of events. He really should set the record straight.

"Do you know about the cabal yet?"

His stomach somersaulted. Why was he telling Pyxis? He took another sip from his punch. Maybe this was a conversation he should be having with Deitha. She'd be all flaming indignation and vigilante justice about it. There was no uncertainty with her as to how far their believes aligned. They had each other's backs. That moment they'd shared in Azkaban had sealed it.

No, he told himself, Pyxis was a good man. He had been there when it mattered and even outed himself as a legillimens. Pyxis had taken a leap of faith for him. He could do the same. All it. He was all in. He repeated the mantra in his head. All in.

"So, the cabal. There is this secret club in the ministry of civil servants who don't serve the general public, but only themselves. They're not political like, well you know. They only trade in one currency, power and they don't care much where it comes from. A few of these guys used to be invested in 'the greater good' if you catch my drift but changed their loyalties when it was no longer fashionable to be an acolyte."

No doubt some of them went by another title now. He didn't like to think about it, but it was only logical that some of them would try to profiteer from the latest political conflicts. The house always wins.

"Anyway, the cabal has a few strange goals, like abolishing the Statute of Secrecy. After all you can't rule over an inferior race if they are unaware of your existence. My father was a problem for them. He knew about them, held power, and didn't join. So they had to take care of him. However, they figured out that killing him would arouse too much suspicion, so fabricating scandal was a better option. Inflicting lifelong damage on my underage sister in the process was of no concern for them."

He paused yet again, affording Pyxis a moment to sort out his thoughts on the matter. So what if his delivery was stilted, he was doing the best he could given the gravity of it all.

"I'll spare you the detail, but it was pretty gruesome. I don't actually know what it says in our file, but I assume some variant of my father taking an artefact home, not securing it properly and my sister getting hurt in an accident involving a spell fired at the item. But how likely do you think it is that a thirteen year old girl taking remedial duelling lessons with her older brother would have the magical power to blow up a powerful artefact with a poorly aimed expulso curse? You know, the same artefact that two Unspeakables couldn't manage to destroy or disarm with a battery of spells. That's the reason my father took it home, to see if he could disenchant it in the thin place around the corner from the house."

He could almost sense the question that had to be forming in Pyxis mind. A small smile spread across his features. They didn't learn about these things at Hogwarts, did they? The school was notoriously poor at keeping alive the traditions of the Gaelic-speaking wizarding world.

"Oh, thin place. Up here on the islands we believe that all magic originated from another realm and came into this world the same way the leprechauns did - through a space where the barrier between the worlds is faint and easy to cross. I don't remember the actual arithmantic equation behind how these thin places work, but what I can tell you for sure is that there are a few of them here on Árainn Mhór. You can feel it in your bones when you go there and it draws your power to the surface, amplifies well beyond your normal reach."  

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, let's not get sidetracked. I think you get the idea how ruining the cabal's day is a favourite pastime of mine. Winthrop's cabal adjacent. Could be fun to turn him. Unfortunately, I don't have an angle. I thought you might. Doesn't seem like it would take much to make him spill what he knows and that of course opens the door on some other people. Fernsby and Decker in the wizengamot, maybe even Flint and I can never decide if I think Rookwood is in on it or not. Might be the only opportunity we get to do something about these guys, and it would be in your interest to get them out of your way if you want your family to hang your portrait in your estate's entrance hall. Head of The Department has been a cabal seat for a while."

Yes, he'd noticed the look Pyxis had given his ancestor's portrait earlier. Even when he was not dipping into people's thoughts Odhrán could be quite observant.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis stared at Odhrán as he alluded to the troubled relationship between his family and the Department of Mysteries. The Pureblood didn't know much about what had transpired. He had only been able to gather the basics, namely there was an incident which ended with his companion's father going to Azkaban and his sister needing to be institutionalised as a result of spell damage. It was an awful scenario, and he doubted it was one which presented the Ministry in a good light if Odhrán's statement was anything to go by.

"The Cabal?" He repeated in a wondering tone while he shook his head. It was not a term he was familiar with. Was this another moniker used by Tom Riddle and those who had chosen to follow him?

Huh, seems not he mused as the other began a more elaborate explanation of the furtive group. Pyxis grimaced at the reference to 'the greater good'. He wasn't an idiot. While he was too young to remember the terrors of Grindelwald's campaign his tutors growing up had ensured he was made aware of the slogan's significance. While he was far from a muggle lover he considered the Stature of Secrecy a necessity. The simple truth was most wizards were uninterested in ruling over a 'lesser species'. Most, like Pyxis himself, simply wanted to be left in peace to follow the traditions that made their world the way it was. Without the Stature of Secrecy the effects Mudbloods were having on their world would continue, only worse. Wizards would become friendly with the muggles. They would allow themselves to become influenced by them and their radical ideas. Modernism would continue to seep into their society like a blistering sore until finally the traditions of their ancestors had become forgotten.

Pyxis frowned as Odhrán elaborated further on his backstory. The details shared were certainly troubling. A thirteen year old accidentally destroying an object two skilled Unspeakables couldn't? Preposterous! It was no wonder details on the case were so hard to find. Anyone with an inkling of sense would realise something did not add up.

The Legilimens resisted the urge to sigh as Odhrán explained his people's theories on 'thin spots'. It sounded like a bunch of superstitious nonsense to him. However, he had no desire to offend the Irish Man, so he kept his sceptical thoughts to himself. Although, the quick raising of his brow may have been enough to reveal it to a man who was as intelligent and observant as Odhrán.

In all honesty, Pyxis didn't know what most offended him; the fact that the Cabal existed or the fact it existed and they hadn't invited him to it. It was the latter which told him the group weren't to be trusted. Pyxis was an accomplished wizard, he had connections to the elite of their society and he was known for his respect for the traditions of their world. Surely he would have been considered an ideal candidate if their intentions were benign? No, this lot were clearly willing to burn the place down if they were left as rulers of the burnt out ruins.

"If Fernsby and Decker are involved in this cabal then I would say Rookwood certainly is. I know for a fact the three of them are involved in a gambling club that meets every Friday. And have you ever noticed they are a little too gracious on the rare occasion their votes differ?"

As someone who aspired to be a part of the Wizengamot, one day, the Legilimens tried to keep track of all that happened within it. One theory that he had long held was the aforementioned trio colluded in secret to get bills passed they couldn't be seen to publicly support. Two of them would muster an extremely lacklustre argument expected of them while the third would branch off and go against his friends 'for the greater good'. However, he'd never been able to piece together the motivations for their actions. The Acts this strange behaviour brought into effect had always seemed random and unrelated. Could it be something to do with this mysterious cabal?

The Pureblood openly scowled at the last. Pyxis wasn't the type of man to worry about being heroic, but threatening his self-interests was a good way of getting a reaction out of him.

"I refuse to lose out on what is rightfully mine because of some mysterious cabal" he stated bluntly. Pyxis was quite confident if a choice needed to be made between him and Winthrop the answer was obvious.

"However, I don't understand what it is you're looking from me. You're quite the accomplished Legilimens yourself, certainly better than I in some areas, so it can't be that. What part would I play in this turning of Winthrop?" Although his mind mused on a few things; a costume to disguise who was involved in the interrogating, old blood magic which could be utilised to create a lesser form of the terror Dementor's instilled, some subtle and not so subtle probing of the mind. The latter thoughts were gently projected outwards. Not with enough force that Odhrán was forced to observe the musing, but enough to let the other man know there was stuff he may be interested in knowing.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

Odhrán carefully looked at Pyxis trying to assess his mood. First signs were positive. Pyxis hadn't scoffed or outright dismissed him. Instead, he was listening and considering his words. Still, Odhrán had the impression that self-interest was of more important to his friend than moral convictions. Some months ago, Odhrán might have minded that. Now, he was more willing to compromise. It didn't matter why Pyxis chose to help him just as long as he did.

Interestingly, it seemed that young Mr Abercrombie had already noticed some cabal activity as well. Odhrán was positively surprised that Pyxis payed such attention to the voting behaviour among wizengamot warlocks. Few people did. He gave a vague nod.

"Old Polaris used to be in on it too before he retired from his position. They're currently one down in the wizengamot, but I guess you might be right in that Rookwood is filling that space. Wouldn't surprise me at all. Fernsby always seems to associate herself with the worst of the pack." The simmering resentment in his tone was palpable. He thought even less of Chief Warlock Fernsby than some of the other members of the cabal. He'd once hoped that the woman would be the key to overturning his fathers conviction. It was only later that he realised she was in on it too.

Unsurprisingly, Pyxis had questions. Some verbalised, some just implied by the way he phrased things, or perhaps entirely imagined by Odhrán's mind. He wasn't used to making himself vulnerable and his nerves kept flaring up. He really wanted to convince Pyxis, but at the same time he didn't want to push too hard or seem too desperate.

"If this was just about Winthrop for me, you'd be right," he admitted flatly. "I could easily take what I want to know and scramble what's left of his mind. However, I don't think that's the best play. The last thing we need is for the cabal to find my image in his thoughts. They currently haven't got a clue that I am in the know and I'd hate to give away my hand just to take down a pawn. There is an opportunity here to do much more damage and get them out of our way."

Did he have to spell out to Pyxis that helping him would be in his own best interest or could he trust that the other man would come to this conclusion on his own? The cabal were unlikely to consider Pyxis when making plans for a new head of department. They'd chose one of their own, or better yet a weak-willed person they could easily influence or blackmail, who could take the fall for them if anybody started to look to closely.

"I want to ruin and expose the cabal," Odhrán admitted openly. "I used to think that I could do that on my own. However, I am told that everybody needs a friend. Nobody's ever formed a successful counter-conspiracy of one."

He hesitated. No, Pyxis wouldn't believe that. He'd have to open up a little more. "Well, it's not just me strictly speaking, but my support and backing isn't in London. I need someone who understands the politics."

Pyxis meanwhile was feeding him some thoughts and ideas. Odhrán gave a little smile. "Interesting possibilities, but we must be careful. I'm not sure if the cabal has a legillimens. They're certainly capable of modifying people's memories and I have seen it before. It's possible that's already happened to Winthrop. I suggest buying the chap a drink after work and taking a look when he's inebriated."

On the wall behind Odhrán one of the paintings suddenly moved, the lady depicted in the frame making room for a male figure to join her for a picnic. At almost the same time an elf stepped inside collecting their empty glasses while a second was placing some canapés and oysters on the table.

"I guess you can consider this a practise run," Odhrán joked, as a bottle of wine appeared on their table. "I have a sneaking suspicion we'll be treated to a million courses and a different drink with each."

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis nodded whilst he thought about his companions words. He couldn't help but wonder if Odhrán was as unknown an entity as he seemed to think. If Pyxis had been involved in the Cabal's little scheme he certainly would have kept an extremely close eye on the wizard who had shown the tenacity required to heal his sister of the spell damage done to her. However, he had nothing to back his suspicions and decided it would do little good to point it out.

Ah, so that was what Odhrán wanted from him. It made sense. He had the political acumen and connections needed to aid in that way. The Legilimens was certain he could spin his involvement in a way his family would approve of. His maternal grandfather would certainly never approve of an upstart group trying to take power from the elite families that helped rule their society. Hell, if he could convince Callum they were a threat to the Hartridge family's place in society the older man would probably throw all his weight behind toppling them.

"I couldn't invite him out for drinks one to one" he commented bluntly. There was no love shared between them and the other wizard would instantly be on the guard if Pyxis made such a preposition. Pyxis certainly would have spent the night discreetly checking his drinks for poison had Winthrop invited him out.

"However, I think I can arrange something in a group... its William's birthday in a couple of weeks." Pyxis was of course referring to the Unspeakable Odhrán and he had once worked together to heal via Legilimency. It would be easy enough to orchestrate. He would invite some of the others they associated with and then give the impression of only offering the invite out of a begrudging need to follow proper decorum. The Occlumens doubted he would be able to resist the opportunity to irritate Pyxis by going.

"He has some knowledge of the mind arts, but I would still be able to have a look without him detecting." The comment was made in a matter of fact tone as he grabbed one of the canapes and then bit into it. Pyxis had always been extremely proud of his skills with Occlumency and now thanks to Odhrán's teaching he was developing a similar pride in his Legilimency abilities. His tutors had commented he had the potential to become one of the greats of their generations in the Mind Arts and Winthrop, well let's say he'd be lucky if he ever achieved the rank of average.

 "Is there anything in particular you would like me to search for?"  It would make his attempts to subtly procure information easier if he had something to work off specific names or place for instance. It was also his way of confirming that he was all in on aiding Odhrán with his vendetta, at least for now.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

Odhrán was surprised how little convincing Pyxis needed. He'd anticipated a lengthy back and forth, but instead there was little resistance. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel humbled and awed or maybe just a touch suspicious. There were very few things in his life that had come easily, and he didn't think very highly of his ability to make friends. And yet things just seemed to fall into place today. Maybe, luck was finally on his side.

A few legitimate concerns were brought up, and Odhrán nodded in agreement. "Yes. Let's not do anything that draws any attention to you or anything that you know. If we can have the tactical advantage, we should make use of it."

He paused and thoughtfully looked at the distance. He had been so worried about convincing his friend, that he hasn't made much of a plan beyond that. He'd wanted and ally, something was underfoot, but all he knew were bits and pieces. Despite how long as he'd been studying the cabal, he still didn't understand what their endgame was.

"I'd love to know why," Odhrán admitted truthfully, "But Winthrop is just a flunky. I doubt he has been told much more than what he needs to know. He won't be in on anything high level, with the exception of his immediate mission. I'd see if there is something like that in his surface thoughts. A mission he has been asked to take care of."

Odhrán closed his eyes for a moment, feeling overwhelmed by a heavy, stomach-twisting feeling. "The fact that they haven't tried to recruit you means something. If you think about it, you'd be perfect for them. Talented, with access to information and means and yet not even an attempt. Together with some other bits and pieces I think that is a worrisome circumstance."

Another sip from his glass and Odhrán took courage to continue rather uncomfortably. "The gossip I hear suggests they are moving to solidify their position in the department. The fact that you've not been approached points to them viewing you as a threat. I think it might be worth taking a glance if and how you feature in their plans."

He hadn't planned to take this angle, but as soon as he'd said the words, he knew that they were true on some level. The cabal often tried to woo members, but they skipped over one of the most eligible contenders on the market. Why? Was there something historic with his family or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was hard to tell.

Odhrán turned slightly, to look at the picnic painting behind him. His eyes were focused on the male depicted, as if waiting for his approval.

"I dipped into my father's memories when I saw him Azakaban. From the fragments I could piece together there is something going on with prophecy. He had his suspicions that information from the Hall of Prophecies is being leaked to the black market for ludicrous amounts of money. Not sure where that fits in their plan, but maybe also something to look for."

A sigh. "Sorry, that's not much of a plan. But the truth is, the little I know was hard to come by and anything more no matter what it is might help towards understanding what their endgame is."

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis nodded in agreement when Odhrán commented that he shouldn't draw attention to himself. However, he had to bite his tongue rather than make the snide remark that came to mind. Any good Slytherin knew better than to give up such a tactical advantage; only a Gryffindor with their foolish notions of nobility would have considered such a thing. Pyxis mused on how Odhrán would have been at Hogwarts. The Pureblood decided the Healer was a quintessential Ravenclaw; he was quiet but studious with a brilliant mind. However, he lacked the ambition and cunning needed to be a great Slytherin. His decision to give up a high-powered position to run a small business in a dump like Knockturn Alley was proof of that. It was a decision Pyxis would never understand or approve of, even if he did not comment on it out of politeness.
 
The Pureblood snorted at the reference to Winthrop's mission. This Cabal had to be desperate if they relied on an idiot like that to achieve their goals.
 
"But why would they view me as a threat?" He mused out loud. Pyxis agreed with Odhrán's assessment, and he found it troubling. "Their end game cannot be about traditional political radicalism. They would all be flocking to this new Dark Lord and his men if that was the case, not acting individually. Nor can it be about polluting our world with muggle culture and ideals. Some you suspect of being involved wouldn't countenance such a thing." It was a disturbing conundrum, but Odhrán was right; if they could figure out why it would make anticipating their next move easier. Thankfully, finding out their plans for him should be a relatively easy venture. It was much easier to skim through memories when the subject of them was at the forefront of the unsuspecting victim's thoughts.
 
"No, it isn't much of a plan" he agreed in a clipped tone. Pyxis had never believed in beating about the bush. "Sadly, it is the best we could hope for in these trying circumstances" he offered in a more reconciliatory tone. The Pureblood grabbed one of the nearby canapes and gently bit into it. The action was as much about giving himself time to think as genuine hunger.
 
Suddenly, he clicked his finger and called out "Willoughby." A house elf  appeared in a grey cotton sack with a prominent H embroidered on the front. "Fetch me grandfather's pensive from his study and ensure any memories currently in it are returned to their containers first." Pyxis shuddered at the thought of Callum's reaction if he were to suspect his grandson of sharing a personal memory with someone he did not know or trust.
 
When the elf disappeared, he turned to Odhrán. "I think we should look at those memories of your father's you mentioned along with any others relevant to the cabal you may have. Perhaps looking at them together and from the perspective of a third party might help us learn something new." And if not it would at least ensure he was up to scratch before his impending encounter with Winthrop.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

Odhrán shrugged helplessly. "I wished I could explain their motives and I have asked myself why they do the things they do countless times. It's still unclear to me after all this time. While I can't be sure of much, it's obvious they are setting up for something. I've observed them for long enough to have seen some good men and women fall to their plans and machinations. But there's always a possibility I am wrong about this."

He didn't like admitting to the possibility, but he figured it was only fair of him to provide full disclosure. However, even with all of his doubts and uncertainty Odhrán was sure that the cabal was in their way. If Pyxis wasn't on their roadmap already, his ambition was sure to put him there before long. They didn't take kindly to people who had a negative impact on their profit margins and while his friend wad hardly a bleeding heart liberal, Odhrán was pretty sure he'd draw a line at outright criminal conduct.

There was a sharp intake of breath when Pyxis mentioned wanting to take a look at his memories. He hadn't seen that twist coming and it felt a little invasive. However, Pyxis had a point if they were to be partners in this, he deserved to have the same level of information as Odhrán himself.

What? Pyxis wanted to borrow his grandfather's pensieve. That was utterly unnecessary. Odhrán tried to interject a word but Pyxis'elf was already summoned and taking orders. Oh well, as long as old Mr Abercrombie wouldn't be upset Odhrán didn't mind.

"It's not gonna be pretty," he sighed. "But I am willing to share. However, Willoughby needn't have worried about carrying a pensieve here. I've got one. It's really an essential item when working as a healer in my field." He turned to look over his shoulder to check if his elf was still nearby but didn't see her.

"Cachou," he called softly. "I need to you to fetch some vials from my study. The ones labelled D please and I would also like the three with the gold markers on the bottle." The elf nodded industriously and disappeared with a soft popping sound to retrieve the requested items.

"So what would you like to see first? What I know about their activities at St Mungos? What I know about the ministry? What my father knows? I suppose you could ask him too." He pointed at the painting behind him. "And there are some financial records I have as well from a bank involved in all of this. I did mention my mother is a Wenger, right?"

A few moments later a couple of vials of memory appeared on the table. He passed them across to Pyxis. "Your pick. The golden ones are my father's. The others are mine. I think this one here might be of particular interest." He indicated a vial labelled as 1968.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis looked sheepish as Odhrán shared that he owned a Pensieve. It was obvious in hindsight that an object like that would be necessary for a healer who specialised in illnesses of the mind. However, he had become so accustomed to being the only one to own one he had not even thought to check. The Briton hated getting caught behaving in a rash manner. He would have to try and ensure he didn't do so again in future.

The Pureblood watched with cool disinterest as a house-elf popped in to receive their orders before disappearing once more. While Pyxis had never been one to torment house-elves for kicks, he had little interest in a species that was clearly inferior.

Pyxis considered his companion's query. While it was good to know all he could about this mysterious cabal their work at St. Mungo's was hardly a priority; since Pyxis didn't work there and his family usually relied on the services of private healers, in the interest of discretion. In their experience, St. Mungo's employees weren't known for keeping their mouths shut if they thought there was money to be made from selling their patient's private information.

"If you feel the memory from 1968 is the best starting point, I see no reason to disagree. I trust you." The last was a particularly significant statement since Pyxis was not exactly known for his warm and fussy disposition. "After that, why don't we review your memories relating to their activities at the Ministry? I imagine if there's an area I might pick up something you've missed that would be it." Pyxis wasn't trying to put his companion down, but he worked at the Ministry and Odhrán did not. Therefore, there were bound to be little things he'd picked up an outsider would not be privy to.

It was then Willoughby returned with the metal basin indented with the runes that identified it as a pensive. "Master Callum says Young Master Pyxis had better return his property safe and sound" the elf castigated in the tone usually associated with someone speaking to a child. If Pyxis were less composed he would have blushed, but instead, he eyed the elf coolly before he stated"Noted." The elf nodded before disappearing from sight.

Since he desired to move on from the embarrassing moment, Pyxis turned to Odhrán and asked"Shall we get started?" Before the man could speak.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

The Hartidge family pensieve arrived and Odhrán couldn't help but admire the piece. Unlike the one in his study, this one was clearly an antique. He'd always admired these older pieces, though in his opinion they didn't work as well as the newer models rune crafters were making now. However, there was no denying that the way the symbols were arranged on this one was not only useful, but also aesthetically pleasing. He wouldn't have minded owning a pensieve like this if only for display purposes.

The little reminder from Pyxis' house elf amused him. There really was no need to worry. He'd treat a beauty like this with all the respect she clearly deserved. He tried to give a reassuring nod and then focused his attention on pouring out the memory Pyxis wanted to view first. He wasn't too sure how he felt about sharing this, but he reckoned this memory was possibly the one Pyxis could offer an perspective on. He knew the ministry inside out having to work there every day.

The liquid swirled into the pensieve shining in bright shades of silver and grey. He gave Pyxis a bit of a bemused look. "I'm not sure how this will play out for you," he said thoughtfully. "If you have to come up for translations I will do my best." He was fairly certain part of this memory plaid out in German. Would Pyxis be able to follow? He had no idea if the pensieve magic somehow translated things. He could picture it playing out either way. Odhrán made a mental note to research the topic. It would certainly be interesting to know more about it.

-

The chain of memories now swirling in the pensieve started out innocuous enough. Odhrán was attending some fancy dinner at the house of the Swiss ambassador in London. The mood was pleasant, wine flowed freely and the normally quiet healer seemed a little more animated than his usual. He was talking with a dark haired witch, Maïwenn, a couple of decades his senior. It was obvious they knew each other well as Odhrán didn't seem to mind when Maïwenn encroached on his personal space to untwist the collar chain around his neck after it had become tangled.

Across the room from them Chief Warlock Aldercy Fernsby was speaking with a Swiss, half goblin financier called Zufferey, "I'll take care of it," she hissed angrily, not noticing that she was being a little louder than intended. Odhrán's attention was immediately drawn to the conversation. His eyes briefly met with the half goblin's and he reached into the financier's memories. The impression he got away with was fleeting at best, showing an unknown auror visiting a bank in Bern to request some information from the half goblin's staff.

The memory cut at this point and forwarded to a couple of weeks later. Odhrán was reading the paper back home at Ard na Mara, sitting in the same room as he was now with Pyxis. His attention was drawn by an article about an auror being dismissed from his position for being inebriated during duty. The curious thing was that the face of the auror matched the one from the banker's memory. Odhrán continued the article, reading about the auror being sent to St Mungos for treatment and rehabilitation.

Another cut. A couple of weeks later Odhrán was at St Mungo's offering a consult. He pulled up the auror's file to check what was logged. Naturally, the case had been assigned to Audish. How strange that a supposed addict was being treated by the head of spell-damage. A loss of episodic memory was noted on the chart.

The scene shifted again, showing Odhrán in Switzerland sharing dinner with the Swiss ambassador to London and Maïwenn. Their German-language conversation was meandering pleasantly.

"Maïwenn, I was wondering if you know Zufferey at all. Do you know what he does?"

Maïwenn gave Odhrán a surprised look. "Why would you associate with a low life like him?"

The Swiss ambassador, Camenzind, wrinkled his nose in displeasure. "Zufferey is a dangerous man. He has a panoramic array of high-risk clients. They include a Bulgarian veela trafficker and an Austrian millionaire who's ordered a hit on his wife."

Maïwenn nodded. "Dorveny has been trying to do something about it through legislation. However, there is no real appetite for increased regulation here in Switzerland."

Odhrán nodded his understanding. He didn't really care about Zufferey as such, but his connection with Fernsby was interesting. Maybe that meant he was looking after cabal money as well. Why else would Fernsby protect him and his establishment?

The next memory floated to the surface, showing Odhrán paying a visit to the British ministry. Speaking with a teller he explained that he was here to apply for permission to make a visit to Azkaban. He was taking to a consultation room and given a form to fill in. The memory seemed rather dull as Odhrán took his time filling in the paperwork.

However, once done, he didn't directly return to the teller he had been working with straight away. Instead he made a detour to the ministry library, picking up a pass from a gentleman called Cillian on the way. He picked up a book on advanced legillimency and settled upstairs for a while, near the portrait of his ancestor. It's as midday and several of the Unspeakables filed into the library to have their lunch. Curiously, Winthrop wasn't staying with the people he'd entered with, but instead sat down with Fernsby and a woman Odhrán didn't recognise. Odhrán was too far away to hear the conversation between them and with Winthrop's and Fernsby's back turned towards him he couldn't make eye contact.

The woman though, well, she was looking at him for a moment and Odhrán gave a flirty smile while trying to grab at her surface thoughts. She was time room. They were planning some sort of heist. The connection slipped. Odhrán returned to his reading.

-

Odhrán patiently waited for Pyxis to complete his viewing. He was intrigued what his friend would make of all of this. It wasn't enough evidence to accuse anyone of anything, but it was certainly fishy.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis nodded when Odhrán offered to translate if needed. He would be so annoyed if the entire memory was in blasted Gaelic. The only words of his companion's Neanderthal language Pyxis knew were dia duit, and he wasn't sure he was even pronouncing that right. The Irish language's roots in Celtic languages rather than Germanic or Romantic meant the languages he did know would be of little use, and the Abercrombie hated having to ask for help! Blast Odhrán for exposing him to the dirty back alley of languages!

The Pureblood breathed deeply before he plunged into the Pensieve. Pyxis had always found it better to analyse the memories from within. It was more intimate than watching from outside the bowl as a casual bystander. Pyxis took in his new surroundings, which he instantly noted were familiar. The Ministry worker had been there before on business. The Diplomat who owned the home was a genial albeit tedious fellow if Pyxis recalled correctly. Thankfully, they spoke English, and he did not need to ask for his friend's help.

His brow arched at the Chief Warlock's uncouth behaviour. Pyxis had always found Chief Warlock Fernsby to be the epitome of professionalism. His grandfather had once noted she could get heated during the debates, which took place behind closed doors on particularly contentious issues, but an angry shout during a formal dinner party? It was utterly reprehensible. Fernsby would have been the talk of Cousin Farren and her gaggle of socialite friends had they been around to witness such unbecoming behaviour.

Pyxis quickly forgot the scandalous behaviour as the next section of his friend's recollection took out. It was clear what had happened. The Young Auror had stumbled upon something he shouldn't, and Fernsby had used her influence to not only remove him from the Ministry but utterly destroy him! What mysteries lay behind the bank's walls? It had to be something valuable, besides the obvious, if this Cabal felt it was important enough to deprive a man of his sanity.

The Purebloods keen mind quickly made the connection. This Aurelius Audish had to be a part of the Cabal, and wasn't that the name of the healer who'd once been assigned to Miss Ni Daláigh if his past research into his friend's background was correct? If his suspicions were correct it was no wonder Odhrán hated this group! Like the Auror who'd earned their ire destroying the Irish Man's father's career hadn't been enough for them. They'd sought to destroy his sister too.

The Pureblood frowned in annoyance as they reached the next memory. He lazily waved his wand to stop the memory and emerged long enough to explain he needed his help in understanding what was happening. He smiled at Odhrán as the duo returned to the memories with the older man there to translate the basics of what was said.  A hit man and a veela trafficker? Why on earth would Chief Warlock Fernsby associate with scum like that?  And what did it have to do with a bank in Bern? The more Pyxis learned about this mysterious cabal the more confounding they became.

Pyxis watched the final memory unfold with narrowed eyes. A sick feeling developed in the pit of his stomach as the woman turned to face Odhrán. It was Sylvia Prenderghast! He knew her and not just from the Ministry.

-

With a lazy flick of the Briton's wand, the duo appeared outside the Pensieve once more. "I am truly sorry" he offered in an uncharacteristically sombre enough. "What they've done to that Auror and to your father and sister it's unforgivable." Pyxis decided it was best to not try and hide the conclusions he'd reached. If they were going to work together it needed to be from a place of honesty. Even if following that would prove to be exceptionally difficult for a man who hid a large portion of his life from those he cared for, even his Cousin Farren who was practically a sister to him!

Pyxis sighed as he looked at Odhrán. "I can't believe Sylvia Prenderghast is involved in all of this!" Although his primary focus was on the mind room and hers the time room their paths had crossed on occasion. However, there was one particular incident which sprung to mind.

"I don't know if this is important, it might mean nothing but I think it's my time to share a memory." He placed his wand on his temple and focused on pouring out the relevant memory. The man watched the silver and grey swirls sadly.

-
The memory took place in the hallways of Pyxis' Cousin Edwards suite in the Hartridge Estate. The walls were decorated with the portraits of Hartridge ancestors who watched him with regal bearings. The Pureblood himself moved through the corridor at a slow pace. He was slightly early to an agreed-upon appointment with Edward, but his slightly older Cousin probably wouldn't care. It wasn't as though Pyxis couldn't busy himself until Edward was ready to leave.

His brows arched as he heard voices from inside the study his Cousin used as an office. The fact one of them belonged to a woman was particularly intriguing. It couldn't have been Sarah. She had taken herself off to her father's estate for the week. Was Edward having an affair? How ghastly! But he wouldn't be entirely surprised truth be told.

The sound of the woman's voice through the doorway grew sharper. She had moved to the other side of it. Her hand on the handle if the way the door knob tilted slightly was anything to go by. "You need to make a decision Edward! Are you in or are you out? Pick before the choice is made for you!"

The door opened and there stood the same woman from the last memory Odhrán had shared with Pyxis. Those same sharp features were now narrowed in anger as a house-elf appeared to escort her off the property.

[Odhrán Ó Dálaigh]

"Utterly reprehensible," Odhrán agreed with Pyxis's assessment. "And you've probably gathered why this is personal for me, though I can assure we're but mere flies in the ointment. There is something larger at play. It's just that I don't have the right access to gather more solid intelligence on what they are really up to. I think it's safe to say that the legality of their conduct so far doesn't exactly fill me with confidence that the rest of their operation is above board."

He knitted his brows together, trying to think if there was something he'd forgotten to mention that would make all of this make a little more sense. It was so frustrating that he still had more questions than answers. After all those years it felt like he should have something more substantial.

Pyxis surprised him by mentioning a name: Prendergast. This was new. He hadn't been able to identify the lady in his memory, but it seemed Pyxis was familiar with her. "You know the lady? Who is she?" This was interesting. How did Pyxis know her? Did he have an idea how she was involved in all of this? Having another piece of the puzzle would be so helpful.

He was about to ask yet more questions when a memory was offered up for sharing. He felt suddenly touched and overwhelmed by emotion. It was so good to have a friend who understood how angry he was about all of this. It was one thing to get validation from his family, but having an outsider see things for what they were meant everything. He'd worried for years that nobody would ever believe him, but Pyxis saw what he was seeing.

The offer of a shared memory was really just a bonus. The last hour had brought them closer as friends than he had imagined possible. That in itself was enough of a reward. However, he of course couldn't say no to even more information. Maybe, with Pyxis help, there was a chance that he would finally get somewhere with this.

Like Pyxis, he preferred to take a closer look from within. He always found that it was easier to pick up on the details that way. Having taken the plunge, Odhrán found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a well-kept pureblood home, but not one he had the honour of visiting as a guest before. He followed Pyxis along a hallway, admiring a gallery of ancestors. He paused in front of the portrait of Hieronymus Hartridge, a 15th century wizard he remembered from his alchemy text book at school. Was that the Hieronymus Hartridge? With the ouroboros in the potion bottle?

Odhrán caught up with memory Pyxis as there were raised voices to be heard. Intruding. Odhrán couldn't figure out what any of it meant yet, but an ultimatum had been issued. A door opened and low and behold, there was the woman again. Pendergrast. Sweet Circe! This was adding a whole new dimension to the story.

He popped up from the pensieve to look at Pyxis. "Who is this Edward?" He had some dim awareness that it had to be someone inside Pyxis family, but he was keen to hear about the details now. "What does he do? Why would he get involved with them."

Pyxis had said this might be nothing, but Odhrán felt quite certain this was something.