Kyle - 10:00 AM - Rosaline Hall Entryway

Kyle stood in the entryway. He was frowning; not an unusual look, but in this case he was frowning at the weather. Winter had a firm grip on the country, which made for any sort of out of doors training nearly impossible. Training indoors was... frowned upon. Ronan's voice cut into Kyle's thoughts, but did not shatter his frown.

He let the drape fall back in front of the small entryway window and walked away. He didn't need to get anything, he was always prepared for the worst. Kyle entered the 'meeting room'. Curious as to what information Ronan had discovered, hoping it'd be a mission something to get him out of the house that was much too soaked with magic. Kyle shrugged of those memories with ease of practice as he took his accustomed seat, a spot open for Siobhan to his right.

Kyle didn't bother asking any questions just yet. Ronan wouldn't answer them until the rest showed up anyway.

The door to the basement opened, revealing a man with disheveled hair that had bits of dittany trapped about it, a shoddy-looking robe, and a wand sticking out of his beard. Finnegan coughed, closing the door behind him. The announcement had just about made him jump out of his skin and drop the important flask of a certain potion he'd been working on. Fortunately, he'd managed to keep a hold onto the precious cargo, which was nestled away into one of the many pockets on his robes. He shuffled his way to the meeting room. Once inside, he saw the leader, Ronan, sitting at his usual spot, and another member seated not that far away from him. Finnegan shuffled over to Ronan, digging for the vial and placing it on the table. "Here's the Veritaserum yeh asked for. Won't be able ta make anymore until I restock, so I made as much as I could. Just please do make sure everyone knows only a few drops'll do." Finnegan said in a thick Scottish accent, before shuffling down to the other end of the table. He'd only been in the Ashes for a few months, but he felt he'd proven his value with his Potions.

As the man sat down, his wand emitted a small spark. Surprised, he muttered a quiet I was wonderin' where yeh had gone offta, lass." before slipping the wand into one of his pockets. As the man sat there, one of the voices he heard spoke up to him. "Hey, maybe he's gonna tell us that Voldemort's dead! Yeah, that's what it is!" Upon hearing this, Finnegan broke into a big smile, as if he'd been told he'd won the lottery. He smiled at Ronan and the other man, as if he was expecting them to know what he was smiling about. Surely they knew what was going on in his addled brain, right? Right?

Alora had been flipping through a few medical books when the announcement boomed through the manor. She brushed back a strand of silver-brown hair, trying to fix it back into the messy bun she had going. "I wonder what in the name of Merlin is so urgent? Did we get news that... no... he wouldn't call us to the meeting room if that was true..." She muttered to herself. She closed the book and put it away in its spot. She turned to leave the library and headed to the meeting room.

It had been a few years since Alora had found the Ashes. She had offered her services here and there, and was trying, for once, to find a place to settle down. However, it was getting harder for her to wish to stay. As much as she tried to help, it seemed like nothing was working. Ashes kept trying, but...

She sighed, shoving those thoughts out of her head as she entered the meeting room. She gave a small nod to everyone and took the seat furthest away from everyone. The only person at this point she may be a little friendly with was the librarian, Viktor, since she spent most of her free time there. She looked at Ronan. "So, are we waiting for more before you tell us what is so urgent?" She asked. She did notice it was only four of them at the moment.

10:03 AM - Rosaline Hall, East Wing, Servants’ Quarters

Compared to the old Snatcher camps, this was heaven.

True, the servants’ quarters of Rosaline Hall were far from luxurious, but it was still a far cry from the hovels he’d been made to hole up in. One time, he and a few others spent a grand total of five weeks running about the wilderness, in order to make sure that not a single Muggleborn slipped through the Ministry’s clutches. Every day, it was the same thing. Wake up, have a meagre breakfast, search the area until it got dark again, supper, and then, back to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. Maybe if it was an exciting day, they would actually find a straggler or two to haul back to HQ. But most of the time, days passed rather uneventfully. Ludo could get used to the cold, the rain, even the noises that filled the forest at night, but never having anything solid against his back was driving him crazy. Not to mention the soul-crushing monotony.

That horrible experience did teach him a useful trick, however -- to be able to rest whenever he had five minutes for it, and wake as if his eyes had never been closed.

It’d taken him months, nearly a year, to earn the reluctant trust of the Ashes, and now, he was finally tasting the fruits of his labour. Of course, Ludo was still nowhere near having anyone vouch for him, but under the circumstances, one had to take their victories where they could. Baby steps, he told himself. There wasn’t an easy solution nor shortcut to these kinds of things, and he knew that better than anyone else.

...Though he couldn’t say he was looking forward to it. His past working for the Dark Lord might not mean much to him, but to some others, that was something downright unforgivable. An age-old adage comes to mind whenever the affair is brought up: “a leopard never changes its spots”.

But Ludo had to admit, the Ashes were much more tolerant of such things. Most of them, at least. Since their very own leader had been in the Dark Lord’s service himself, he supposed that was only logical. Still, not one to get into such boring moral debates with himself this early in the morning, Ludo quickly deserted the train of thought, instead preoccupying himself with getting to the meeting room. Apparently, there was an important announcement to be made, though one had to wonder whether it could’ve waited a few more hours.

---

Soon enough, after quite the walk, Ludo found himself at his destination. Of course, he could’ve just apparated himself there, but where was the fun in that? There was so much to hear and see along the corridors of Rosaline Hall, and these days, many would agree that information was the most valuable currency of all. Was it eavesdropping? Perhaps, but there was no harm in happening to overhear a thing or two while he passed by.

Stepping inside the room, Ludo made himself comfortable in one of the chairs closer to the door, sprawled across it like a long-limbed octopus. Merlin, the rich sure do spoil themselves, eh? Even the chairs and tables in this place were swanky, the former’s stitching lined with Erumpent hide. This kind of opulence was very likely something he’d never get used to. Too much time spent huddled around a burning stove, the frigid, ocean gale digging into your skin, and you learn to appreciate the little things.

For a moment or two, Ludo remained silent, eyes flickering across the room at his companions, scrutinising. But when he spotted the scruffy, bedraggled mess that was one Mr. Colquhoun, a stirring of remembrance surfaced in him. There was something he needed to tell him, wasn’t there? Something about a new shipment of ingredients…

Oh, right. Now he remembered.

“Hey, Finn.” Ludo said, none too loudly, but either way, his voice seemed to carry right across the room. “Me and my boys managed to get ahold of some Dragon Blood and Doxy Venom yesterday. You told me last week you needed those, right? For your potions?”

Careful... careful...

Drew Callaghan slowly etched in a rune onto a small slab of cobblestone. This was going to be something of a general purpose rune, something he could quickly apply and leave. It was going well so far; the base of the rune was clean-cut, and the three curving lines he had drawn on the outside were mirrored perfectly. All he needed now was the runes for holding and trapping, and it would be ready to hold any of a number of spells Drew could think of. A couple more lines, and...

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

Callaghan's wand twitched in surprise, and his Diffindo spell suddenly went haywire, blowing clean through the stone and cutting a large gouge into the runes. Stunned, Drew watched as his last hour of work suddenly became a useless hunk of stone. Huffing in annoyance, he chucked the stone into the nearby bin. It clattered, and knocked some loose paper from the top of the full trash can. Drew sighed. He would need to vanish it later or throw it out, and he knew he was rubbish at something even as simple as vanishment.

Casting his thoughts aside as well, he tucked his wand into its holster and exited the room he had been working in. Stretching from being hunched over for so long, Callaghan heard the call from Ronan repeat.

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

Sighing again, Drew walked to the meeting room, his mind clawing with annoyance and disappointment at the lost work.

Five minutes later, Drew entered the room, and took the first empty seat in the front he could find, which put him next to Alora and Kyle. "Morning," he intoned, taking his seat. He felt little else needed to be said. After all, what else mattered after he buggered up yet another damn rune-

Callaghan sighed yet again, calming himself down. No need to get worked up. Idly wondering what the announcement was, he waited for the rest of the Ashes to arrive.

"Something unusual...? What do you have for us this time, Ronan...?" The unmistakable voice of Viktor von Gesner seemed to pierce the palpable tense atmosphere of the meeting room as the Librarian seemed to appear out of thin air besides the former Spymaster's rather grandiose seat.

Though Viktor's words may have come across as amused or even taunting to some, one could pick up the thoughtfulness in his tone, the measured inflections to each words, as if he was constantly calculating the right thing to say. His piercing blue eyes gazing into Ronan's own, as though searching for information.

The Ashes' leader was as good an Occlumens as they came, experience coupled with paranoia proving to be facets of his mental resistance. Enough that Viktor could only barely grasp the surface of the older man's thoughts. But scraps were better than nothing.

"I've got what you wanted." Viktor said next, reaching a single deft hand into a weathered over-the-shoulder leather satchel draped over his frame, fiddling about for a brief moment before procuring a worn tome, the faded silver lettering of the dusted cover glinting eagerly in the sun's reflection: "Secrets of the Darkest Art".

Holding the book aloft with a single hand, Viktor took a moment to clear his throat before speaking again. "Took me awhile to track down and even longer to actually get my hands on...not many copies are still around these days, but I guarantee the information inside is valuable. Everything we need to know on Horcruxes." Viktor explained to the slowly-swelling group of people inside the meeting room.

Viktor paused briefly, taking a moment to gaze at each one of his fellow teammates as they entered, though his features remained semi-amused, an almost disconcerting half-smile on his lips. Kyle McCarthy, the Protector; Finnegan Colquhoun, the Mad Scientist; Alora Caldwell the introverted Mediwitch -- admittedly rather attractive (earning a small eyebrow raise from Viktor); Ludovic Fortuyn, the reformed Snatcher; Siobhan MacFusty, the pixie-ish dragon-keeper; and finally Drew Callaghan, the tinkering saboteur with a fondness for runes.

He had gotten along rather well with the fellow Ashes, keeping a generally cordial demeanor when interacting with them. Nevertheless, he was not one for social interaction, and rarely said more than what was necessary in a conversation. It was his job to find things, not discuss the weather.

Running a single hand through his slightly-unkempt mess of hair, Viktor eased himself into a chair towards the middle of the table, a quick look left and right before settling his gaze on the wooden surface itself as he placed his hands upon it, joining the tips of his fingers together as he awaited his comrades.

---

Bertha liked Ronan. The two had had their disagreements and knew that they’d probably never be the best of friends, if Ronan even did ‘friends’, but, ultimately, they worked well, if not together, then independently, toward the same goal. Unfortunately, the universe had not seen fit to bestow on either of them a great patience, and so, as Ronan’s voice echoed magically around the corridors of Rosaline Hall on a loop, glitching at the end of the sentence before beginning again like a broken record, her eyes rolled. And rolled again.

“Crucial information has been acquired! Report to the meeting roo- Crucial information has been...”

Either it was some serious information or Ronan had decided to irritate them into coming quickly. Or both. Regardless of the former, the latter was inevitable.

“Finite incantatem,” after a minute of the endless notice, Bertha waved her wand, and Ronan’s voice vanished from the air, filling the hall, once again, with a blissful if slightly eerie stillness. Raising the tip of her wand to her throat, she broke her own silence, voice magnified across the mansion in the same way, “In case you didn’t catch that, please come to the meeting room. Now, please. See you in a moment.”

Her message did not repeat. They had enough to deal with without splitting headaches as well. Still, although Ronan was usually direct, if not a little abrasive, there was something in his tone that she picked up; could it be excitement? Or fear? Perhaps both. The two went together so readily these days that they had become virtually synonymous. Instinctively, like a virus passing through the airwaves from him to her, her own heart began to quicken. She placed a hand on her chest and breathed deeply, gently closing her eyes. Rashness was the easiest way to make mistakes.

She stood up and stretched her legs. She had been resting recently, resting a lot, and now her limbs had begun to dully ache. The previous week, she had been hit in the chest with the business end of a particularly nasty curse; although she had been quick enough to block the worst of it, she was still only just working off the after-effects and had been under strict instructions to take it easy, as though Bertha were the kind of woman to take anything easily. Perhaps now there would at least be something more challenging.

She pushed open the door to the meeting room and strolled in, noting that, despite being a little slower on her feet than normal, she still wasn’t the last. Without saying anything, apart from shooting a curious look at Ronan from across the other end of the room, she took a seat.

Finnegan had been quite startled when he found himself being addressed by Ludo. In fact, his astonishment was quite plain, as he visibly jumped in his seat, a strand of Dittany root dislodging itself from his hair and landing on the table. Finnegan grabbed the strand and hastily stuffed it in his pocket, lest Ronan get onto him for dirtying the place up. Then, the addled Potions Master gathered his wits about him to realized what was said. "Dragon Blood and Doxy Venom yeh say? Good, I've been outta Doxy Venom fer 'bout a week now. As fer Dragon Blood, I've got a bit left, but I'll take what I kin get. After all, that's becoming rare with Voldemort thievin' all the Dragons away." he said, his voice coming across as one who was in full possession of his mental faculties.

However, Finnegan missed Siobhan's entrance, as she came in right at the comment of Voldemort's dragon-nappings. As soon as Finnegan realized what he'd done, he shot her an apologetic look. He nodded to the other ashes, before turning to Ludovic. "I'll be by after the meetin' to pick it up. Will that work fer yeh?" he asked. He was more trusting of the former Snatcher than many would be. After all, he (somehow) managed to keep his Potion stores up. Finnegan himself went out to get his ingredients when he could, but the other Mediwitch (who he absently noted was still absent) had known him from St. Mungo's and didn't let him stray to far, lest he have another catatonic episode. However, the voice in his head reminded him that Voldemort might have died, and he resumed his (to the others) slightly crazed grin.

However, when Viktor Apparated (a skill Finn was jealous of, as he had no talent for it whatsoever) and began talking about Horcruxes, Finn's countenance became quite serious once again. Horcruxes were very dark magic, indeed. Even though he still had the appearance of a homeless person, everyone present could tell that Finn was having a rare moment of being in his right mind (outside of when he worked on any sort of Potion, of course).

Alora nodded in response to Ronan and leaned back in her chair, surveying the room. She quite frequently did this in crowded situations, to figure out if she needed to flee or stay. She pulled out a pack of well worn tarot cards, and started shuffling them out of habit. As a new person entered the room, a new card was flipped for them. Finnegan, the fool. It was obvious to everyone he wasn't quite all there. He was a genius with potions, and Alora was happy for his help, but there were times, she could tell, he was talking to someone else, but no one could hear them.

Siobhan, the lovers. For someone who had lost so much, she was so happy. It was something to do with Kyle, Alora was sure. They seemed close, but not quite there.

Bertha, High Priestess. She was one of the older members of the group, and very wise. She was a champion duelist if Alora remembered correctly. She was also second-in-command.

When Viktor had appeared, Alora faltered for a moment when she noticed him looking at her. She offered him a nod and flipped over a card. The Hermit. It was a card she had come to associate with herself, but it also made sense for Viktor. They both spend much of their time alone, away from others. She did go on missions from time to time, but... she was still alone in a way.

Ludo... she paused in her card flipping on Ludo. She did not know him very well. He was still new to her, a smuggler, if she recalled. It was hard to keep track of members of the Ashes sometimes. She flipped the card. The Hanged Man. She sighed. She was letting her lack of knowledge cloud her mind. She was suspicious, but that did not mean Ludo was not here to help. She shuffled all the cards again and decided that she was done with them for the moment. She turned her attention back to the rest of the group, still waiting for Ronan's announcement. She did perk up at the mention of Horcruxes. She had heard something about them before, but it was Dark Magic. Not the magic Alora associated herself with at all.

10:08 AM - Rosaline Hall; Corridor

“Crucial information has been acquired! Report to the meeting roo- Crucial information has been...”

Luther knew that at this point, he was at risk of being late, which he disliked the thought of; not everyone in the Ashes trusted him, and they have good reason not to. Being late is one thing that isn't exactly going to make you many friends. Alas, Luther had been rushing to finish preparing his brief notes. Usually he didn't have much to report, just a list of the raids that had happened since the last meeting; but this time was different. Luther didn't know if the critical information Ronan had was in fact what Luther had discovered, or if it was something else. Regardless, he would absolutely be revealing it during the meeting.

As he entered the meeting room, he noted that he wasn't the last person to arrive – Blake hadn't arrived yet either. Good. Making brief eye contact with Ronan, Luther couldn't keep the slight twinkle out of his eyes. His eyes were practically screaming "Hey! I have something important for you! I'm worthy of the trust you have given me!" With a nod, he took his seat; near Ronan, but not at the head of the table. He carefully avoided making eye contact with Kyle, for Kyle definitely hated Luther the most. It's not even because of who I am, really, but because of a comment I made when I first met the Ashes. He has fair enough reason to resent the statement I had made, I suppose.

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

Sitting in a comfortable chair, legs drawn up to her chest with her eyes shut, Blake remained unmoving, not trusting that she could stand and walk anywhere without breaking something. Not with Ronan's voice hammering into her head in time with the pounding ache that resided right behind her eyes.

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

"Ronan... shut up already..."

On the outside Blake looked as presentable as a princess. Her long pale blonde hair fell down her shoulders and back in perfect waves, her long black dress was perfectly pressed and completely covered the chair she sat in. Her makeup was flawless, and the color of her nails matched the silver in her necklace and single ring she wore as her only jewelry; save for two pearl studs in her ears.

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting room!”

Groaning again as the words kept pounding in her head, Blake opened one of her sky blue eyes momentatilry before closing it once more. Sure, on the outside she looked as though she stepped out of a magazine, on the inside she felt about as ugly as the beggars on the side of the road.

You know, those ones that are missing a few body parts and lunge at you as if they want to steal yours?

It took the consumption of a massive amount of alcohol the previous day to wash away all that ugly she felt inside. It would stay away for a while, a few days maybe she would be back to her normal, chipper, full of energy and annoying self... but then like always, that other side of her would creep up and start to stain her heart until she washed it away again. And for now, the other Ashes only knew her as a hyperactive struggling alcoholic. And that was good. If they knew the truth--

“Critical information has been acquired! Report to the meeting--”

Her eyes opened and she blinked as the sound finally cut off. Was the torment finally over?

“In case you didn’t catch that, please come to the meeting room. Now, please. See you in a moment.” the voice of Alberta rang through the mansion and Blake winced again as it brought another painful ache to her head.

Sighing and extending her legs off the chair and to the floor, Blake would finally make an attempt to gather herself and report in with the others. Just for a few hours until her hangover wore off would she have to hold her pieces together. After that she would be fine.

"I'll be fine.... I'll be fine...." she mumbled as she stood fully and began to make her way barefoot to the meeting room. She actually looked down to make sure her feet were there, as if she was a child. Though it was odd not hearing the familiar tapping of heels as she walked. As she passed a large staircase, she looked up and tilted her head to the side a bit. Would it be worth it to go on a hunt for her shoes right now? She was probably already late anyway.

"What to do, what to do?" she spoke aloud, her voice now sounding as it usually did. Distant and dreamy...

Snapping her fingers, she smiled at the wall.

"I'll go barefoot!"

Lifting up her dress a bit at her hips so she didnt trip, she started skipping her way through the mansion until she reached the meeting room. She dropped her dress before walking in so no one would see she was without shoes, and as she entered, she saw most everyone was there, save for a few. So she was late but not the last. She could deal with that. Heaving a big sigh, Blake smiled at everyone as she walked past them to find a seat.

"All in favor of never hearing Roro speak again, raise a hand." she raised her arm high and smirked at Ronan after calling him by his nickname she'd given him. Taking a seat, she still had her arm raised awkwardly before lowering it suddenly as if she'd forgotten it was raised. After that she crossed her arms across her chest and closed her eyes, leaning back in her seat and trying not to seem as wound up as she was.

"Really? I can't be the only one who thinks his voice is seriously whiny." she teased once more before falling silent.

~10:15 AM~

Mornings were never particularly friendly to Erin Murdock. So she did what any other person would likely do, sleep in. It was an action that could be incredibly looked down upon by others who often deemed those sleepers as "lazy". While Erin's habits of snoozing past any alarm has declined in the past few days, she still gets caught sleeping just a little too long some days. This morning was just one of those days...

Ronan's rather booming voice stirred Erin out of a deep sleep with a jolt. As uncomfortable as that was, Erin didn't lay about for long. She quickly scrambled to her feet and hastily threw on a white long-sleeve and a pair of slightly dirty jeans. She didn't have time to really prepare a proper appearance as she was determined not to be the last one at the meeting, again.

Erin paced herself through the hallways so that she thought she made excellent timing, but after following in the bare-footed Blake, Erin saw that she was, indeed, the last one. She cocked her head back and slapped her forehead in disappointment, quietly cursing to herself. Yet again, she was late and yet again, she was last. Of course she wasn't the last one. There was still one more coming, but Erin didn't know it at the time.

Erin ran a hand through her messy red hair and slipped into a vacant seat, quietly murmuring apologies to all those in passing. She found her spot, right next to her favorite patient, Finnegan Colquhoun. He was a bit of an oddity but Erin had always blamed the more negative attributes to things outside of his control. In fact, the two sort of always got along. Finnegan was a great tutor for potion-brewing and in return, Erin was quick-in-a-pinch to relieve some of Finnegan's psychosis. She leaned forward and rested her head on her elevated hand. Looking at Finnegan, she gave him an innocent wink before turning back to face Ronan and his soon-to-be announcement.

Alora paused for a moment. "Do you want both us Mediwitches on one mission, or do you want one of us to head along to McCarthy Manor as well?" She asked.

McCarthy Manor. That name struck a chord with Alora. Melissa had spend much time here, before she had been killed. She would love to avoid that place like the plague, but if she was needed, then she would go. However, it sounded like Ronan wanted both her and Erin to go rescue David Howell. She had never heard the name before, but if the Death Eaters were on the move for him, that could spell trouble.

She started fumbling with her cards again, and flipped over the top one. The Tower card. Upright. She paused. Unseen danger was a for sure given this mission, but disaster. She paused, and then flipped again. The king of Wands. She had been thinking about David at that point as she flipped. She couldn't interpret it right, but something maybe about vision. She groaned, and put the cards away.

"If you do wish for one of us to go to McCarthy Manor, may I humbly request that it is not me? I have... too many memories attached to that place that I find rather unpleasant," she said, addressing Ronan. Since she was so secretive, not many members were aware of her connections to the McCarthys. Only really Kyle and Ronan knew for sure. Kyle only knew because of his sister, and that was pretty much it.

She did noticed that Ronan had called for both Luther and Blake to head to the manor with Kyle. She wasn't sure if this was entirely wise. "Also, Sir, if I may request, may I speak with you alone later?" She said. Something was itching to be said, but not in public. It was at the back of her mind, almost at the tip of her tongue, but would not come out, not now.

Finnegan listened as best he could, but soon found himself listening to the voices in his head. He'd gotten the basics of the mission. He'd finally be heading out on a mission. He'd only been out on a minor mission only once before, but was usually left behind with his brews. Not that he minded. After all, he could usually count on Erin visiting him at least once a day, and she'd usually stop by right after she got back. Finnegan had grown to like and care for the Mediwitch, perhaps a little more closely than he cared to admit.

Finnegan pulled out his wand, running his hand across the length of it. An unusual wand due to the core, it seemed to suit him. After all, just as the Veela hair made for a temperamental core, Finnegan himself had become fairly unpredictable with his mood since his... "accidents". Finnegan let his thoughts roam free, the voices chiming in various things as his look glazed over and his body became unresponsive due to Alorra's question that she not be the Mediwitch to go to McCarthy manor. Finnegan felt a need to have Erin there, as she knew how to best deal with him. His thoughts ran free from that point, mostly trying to figure out what she meant by that wink. "Maybe she really likes you more than she lets on." one voice said.

To anyone who had been around him enough to see a catatonic episode, it was obvious he was unresponsive to any questions directed at him. If someone were to move him, he'd stay frozen in that position. To those who didn't know him, it might seem like he'd just slipped into a trance, or been hit by a curse of sorts.

“Up out of the lampshade, startled by the overhead light, flew a large nocturnal butterfly that began circling the room. The strains of the piano and violin rose up weakly from below.”

With a short exhale of breath, Kate let her long, nimble fingers close the now finished binding of the book, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. It was a relatively new book, published just a few years ago but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a classic. Within the first few pages she had immersed herself in just yesterday, having borrowed it from Rosaline Hall’s very own library, she was hooked on the story of the successful surgeon, Thomas, a womanizing bastard that had everything coming to him and more when the woman he loved was also involved in an affair forcing him to stop and chase after her. It was such a silly thing really, to be so engrossed in a fictional drama. But the ink-pressed words on a paper page had always brought Kate comfort, even more so now when more than half of her family was missing. In that whimsical, romanticized mind of hers, she knew that she would find them one day. After all, everyone deserved a happy ending.

Now that she had been pulled out of ‘book land’ Kate’s mind had a chance to take in her immediate surroundings but more important than remembering that she had shut herself in the provided bedroom in the East Wing for the morning, Kate was able to catch onto the very tail end of something she could only assume was important.

“In case you didn’t catch that, please come to the meeting room. Now, please. See you in a moment.”

Kate blinked her large, brown eyes, staring at a vacant space on the wall in front of her. That was Alberta Ashdown, unmistakably. How on Earth did she manage to block out everything else beforehand? At least, she was assuming there was a beforehand message in relation to the latter, it would only make sense. The brief thought that Bertha might have been asking someone specifically to meet her in the meeting room had crossed her mind, but the last thing Kate wanted was to miss yet another meeting because she had been lost to her books. No, it was better to assume that Bertha meant everyone than not, even though most times she was excluded from the definition of ‘everyone’ given her unique position within Rosaline Hall. At least this way, if she was wrong, she could return the book she borrowed to Viktor.

Uncrossing her legs from her position on the edge of her bed, Kate pushed herself up onto her feet, finding her pair of black strapped heels she would have put on later that day to complete her simple outfit she had already dressed herself in. With The Unbearable Lightness of Being pressed firmly to her chest by crossing her arms over it, she quickly crossed over to the door, muttering a quick spell so the enchanted door would open for her and stepped over the threshold into the hall. Perhaps if she hurried, she wouldn’t be too terribly late…

She was wrong.

The voyage from the East Wing to the meeting room wasn’t particularly a long one, however when Kate found that the solid oak doors were already shut up tight, she hesitated before them, wondering now if it might be better to just wait out the meeting and get the details from someone else or if it would just be better to interrupt what she was sure had already started. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncrossing her right hand from pressing the book to her chest to tuck a curled strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear. Worrying her lip between her teeth gently, Kate took in a deep breath, pushing caution to the wind and opened up the doors quietly.

She slipped her lithe frame inside the room, having only opened it up just enough to squeeze her body inside, her fingertips pressing back on the door behind her so that it would shut quietly. Immediately, as she looked around the room, her suspicions had been confirmed when she quickly counted the number of heads within the room. Not only was she late, again, but she was indeed the very last. A small, twisting knot formed inside of her stomach, a soft blush creeping across her cheeks as she slid her body to the left of the doors and rested her back against the wall, keeping to the sidelines as she tried to pick up on what was so important.

"If you do wish for one of us to go to McCarthy Manor, may I humbly request that it is not me? I have... too many memories attached to that place that I find rather unpleasant. Also, Sir, if I may request, may I speak with you alone later?"

McCarthy Manor? Kate kept her eyes on Alora as she spoke, trying to surmise quickly what might have already been discussed while still paying attention to what was still happening presently, though was unable to hold any luck. There wasn’t much that Kate knew about Alora, save for her healing position here at the mansion, therefore the ties she spoke of towards McCarthy Manor went unexplained leaving Kate to try so solve the puzzle of conversation on her own by whoever spoke next. If she was so lucky.

She should have just apparated. Perhaps that would have saved all this confuddled mess of confusion she had put herself into. The small knot that had formed in Kate’s stomach prior tightened a bit at the thought, reminding Kate then just how sick apparating had made her the last time she did. No, not even being on time to a meeting was worth that pain.