Catch The Snitch

Alic stood at the end of Knockturn Alley, hands in his pockets, staring at the people that passed by with a passive smirk on his face. They went to and fro, thinking all was fine and dandy, though they passed furtive glances toward the alley behind him, wary of the people who were there on a more regular basis, Alic had come to know them well in the past decade, enough to know he knew how he wanted to move forward, he knew his purpose. He knew there were some people a bit uneasy because of the trouble that had happened recently, some thieving, some vandalism, all small things, but the frequency was starting to pick up than in previous years. That's what he wanted, to make people slowly and slowly more uncomfortable, and then he'd topple it all.

He took a deep breath, adjusting his button-up shirt a bit, undoing the top one as he looked around before starting towards his friend's shop, interested to see if he'd heard anything new recently with all of his connections. He walked into the Chimera and looked around. It was about lunch, so he thought it might a little busier, but he didn't think it'd be impossible to squeeze in a moment with his old friend. As he came inside, he looked around and noticed the young fellow at the counter- Roland he believed was the name he and his twin went by. Most people wouldn't have recognized the difference between them, but Alic had noticed it rather quickly. There weren't many seats open at the moment, though even busy, the cafe wasn't chaotic. Probably a result of the staff and the general atmosphere of the place.

Alic took a deep breath, smiling and waving at some people that acknowledged him, knowing him from his work around Diagon Alley. He took a seat at the counter, "My usual please," he smiled to Remy, who nodded.
"Right away, sir," Remy smiled at him before turning and walking over to the coffee machines, seeming to concentrate to remember what exactly his usual was.
Alic smirked lightly before leaning on the counter and looking around, taking in everything, everyone, present at the cafe.

With a faint pop, Mal materialised in a quiet corner of Knockturm Alley. Relatively quiet, to be accurate, considering how lively the district was at this time of the day. Almost immediately, the sights and sounds hit him, along with the unfiltered thoughts of everyone in his vicinity. Flashes of blurry images and snatches of sounds coursed through his mind, most of them too indistinct to be deciphered, so he paid them no heed as he headed towards his destination.

Before long, the familiar black signboard and golden chimaera statue came into view. Admiring the facade of his café, he allowed himself a moment to reflect on how far he had come as he cast his thoughts to the past. It hadn’t been easy starting out as a novice information broker with too many naive ideals and too little life experience, and he would never have expected himself to be the proud owner of his own dining establishment and the head of a network of informants and spies.

A stray thought poked into his head as someone walked by, a single image of a person who seemed oddly familiar. He tried to hold on to that image so that he could take a better look at it, but as abruptly as it had popped up it disappeared, just like the stranger it came from. A pity he’d never know what it was. Slightly bemused by the unexpected interruption, he shook his head with the slightest twinge of regret as he strode towards the entrance of the Curious Chimaera and entered.

A tiny bell above the doorway tinkled to announce his arrival, just as the inviting smell of food and coffee filled his nostrils. The proprietor swept his gaze across the interior of the café, instinctively scanning the place for anything or anyone unusual, and his eyes fell upon a familiar figure. Even from behind, the person’s build and the way he carried himself was unmistakable, and a broad smile crept over Mal’s lips as he approached. “It’s good to see you again, old friend,” he greeted as he put his arms around the man’s shoulders from the side and gave a firm squeeze. “What brings you here?”

Alic grinned as he felt Mal's arm around his shoulder and looked up at him, "What, am I not allowed to come and visit? You do have the best pastries and coffee around," he chuckled a little, "And I missed my friend, it's been a while since we've seen each other," he added, patting Mal's arm, "How have you been? Anything new going on?" he asked before looking as Remy brought over a cup of black coffee and a chocolate croissant, "Ah, you remembered," he smirked at Remy.
"Apologies, monsieur, it took me a moment to run through all the usuals in my head," he apologized, his French accent still very thick.
"No apologies necessary, your pastries more than make up for it," Alic chuckled nodding to the croissant on his plate, "You'll have to share how you learned how to make them so well one day."
"Je ne peux pas," Remy smirked, "Everyone needs a secret, hm?" he chuckled before walking back to go help another customer waiting nearby.
"They're going to be trouble," Alic chuckled lowly, looking over at Mal again, "Good pick," he smirked again.

Mal chuckled at Alic’s comment on the Chimaera’s pastries and coffee. “The credit goes to him,” the proprietor replied as he gave a nod towards Remy. The Reynard twins had more than proven themselves since their arrival – and in more ways than one, in light their contributions towards both the Chimaera and his information brokering business.

“It’s been a while indeed,” Mal agreed, and just then Remy returned with coffee and a croissant. Silently he pointed at what Alic was having and back at himself and made an exaggerated gesture that said “where’s mine?”, before shaking his head to show that he was merely joking.

“I couldn’t ask for anyone better,” he replied as the resident pastry chef went to attend to another customer. “Not just him in fact, but Sarah, Olivia, Daniel, and all the rest.” Over the years his network of information gatherers had grown, and even though he was ostensibly their employer, he was nothing without his capable and reliable team. “I don’t tell them this often enough, but I’m really grateful to have them with me.”

With that, Mal turned the focus back onto Alic. “If only you had been around the other day. We had a gathering with some old friends in Epping.” Given the context of the conversation, those seemingly innocent words had a much darker meaning behind them. A wayward Ministry official he had been investigating for a while had finally slipped up, affording him the opportunity to gather enough evidence to convince the Auror Office to conduct a raid. He even participated in it, partly to repay a personal debt, but mainly because it was the only way to lure out the mark. “It was such a wild night. Some of us took quite a while to recover from it,” he recounted, pretending to remember fondly the chaotic operation and how everything went south almost immediately. At least they had accomplished their mission, and though he had sustained some injuries, they already healed to a point where they didn’t bother him much.

“Enough about my social life. How have you been?” Mal asked, instead of enquiring what Alic had been up to. Not that he wasn’t keen to find out, but right now he was more concerned and curious about his friend’s well-being.

Alic listened to his friend intently, smirking a little at his seeming upset about not getting anything for himself. As he alluded to a busy night, he raised a brow, "Are you alright?" he asked, "We're not as spry as we used to be," he smirked at that.

As Mal inquired about his life, he took a deep breath, "Well, busy, that's for sure," he said, "It's been a while since I was in the area. A lot of people I've been needing to talk to that don't necessarily like the bustling streets of Diagon Alley," he chuckled a little. He had never exactly hidden what he was up to from Mal, in fact, it had been something he made clear from the start, "But it's more apparent than ever those conversations have to be had. And the people I've been talking to agree," he said, sipping at his coffee.

"Maybe your staff could be of use on some the things I have in mind, parties to be had and all," he mused, glancing back over at him.

“Nan gwaenchanayo,” Mal flashed a reassuring smile. “I guess I need to work out even more after I recover fully.” His was a dangerous job, and had he not been in tip top physical condition, things might have gone quite differently that night.

Expectedly, Alic had kept himself busy talking to people and collecting public sentiment about the state of affairs. Diagon Alley may be the heart of wizarding Britain, but it wasn’t necessarily an accurate microcosm of the wizarding community. As Alic had rightly pointed out, there were people who chose to avoid the area for various reasons, and for that reason Mal had seen fit to maintain a network of contacts stationed all over Britain.

Mal’s ears perked up when his friend asserted that those conversations had to be had. It was no secret that society was grappling with numerous issues, but just how close were they to the tipping point? Based on the information his eyes and ears were feeding him, Mal’s sensing was that the situation was still fairly stable, and they could afford to bide their time for the moment.

That said, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s judgement either. Alic probably learnt about something during his travels that Mal didn’t yet know. “Go on, I’m all ears,” he said. If there was anything he could do to help his dear friend, he wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand.

Alic smirked a bit sensing his friend's interest in what he was saying. He learned long ago the kinds of carrots to feed him to get him along for the ride, but this ride was going to be much more dangerous than any ride he'd planned before. He wasn't sure if there was a carrot big enough to keep him along.

"This might not be a conversation for the bar, my friend," he said, glancing around, "Don't want to ruin the surprise for anyone," it was more that he didn't want to alarm anyone who overheard him. He couldn't let this keg light early, "What say we find somewhere a bit more private to talk, and I'll tell you the plan," he said, setting his coffee down.

Though if Mal were curious, Alic did allow just a bit of his thoughts through, just enough to show that what he was planning was no "party". It was going to be something that would shake this quiet little alley to its core.

Alic’s smirk resembled the smile of a victorious man who had just gotten what he wanted, which in this case was Mal’s buy-in. Still, the deal could end up cutting both ways, and the information broker might stand to gain while supporting his dear friend’s endeavour.

Said endeavour was more serious than Mal had initially thought. Usually he liked to discuss matters openly – or rather, he liked to give others the impression that he was discussing matters openly, while using privacy spells or codewords to keep others from eavesdropping. But there were some conversations that were so sensitive that they needed to be held away from prying ears. What exactly was Alic planning that would warrant such secrecy?

“Follow me,” Mal said, before getting up and leading the way towards the door beside the bar. “Help me hold the fort for a while,” he whispered to Remy as he walked past the latter. “We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Holding the door open for Alic, Mal waited for his friend to step into the passageway before closing the door behind them. Once they were out of sight of the patrons, the information broker placed one hand on the washroom door for a second, and gave it a firm push. In response the door swung open, but in the wrong way, for the ‘hinge’ was on the same side as the doorknob.

What lay on the other side of this door was not the washroom, but a spiral staircase that wound downwards to the secret basement underneath the Curious Chimaera. “Come,” Mal invited as he descended the staircase, and before long they came to yet another door. “In case you’re wondering why there are so many doors, let’s just say that I prefer to err on the side of caution.”

As if to further support his point, several glowing sigils manifested on the door as Mal approached. Recognising him as an authorised personnel, the sigils turned green and the door swung open to admit him and his guest. The chamber beyond this final door was fairly large, and decorated in a manner that echoed the decor of the hybrid café/bar upstairs, albeit in a more modern and sleek style. Near the fireplace, three sofas were arranged around a square glass-and-metal coffee table, Beyond the seating area, at the far side of the chamber, stood a bar counter, and a trio of closed and forbidding doors guarded the entrances of smaller rooms that offered even more privacy.

As the door to the basement automatically closed and the arcane locks engaged, Mal proudly gestured towards the drawing room they were in with a flourish. “Is this a better place to talk?” he asked.

Remy gave a nod to the directive given by Mal before putting on his best customer service face and making sure to keep everyone's attention from going in that direction.

Alic followed him down, down, down into his safe space, not commenting on how many steps he took for some safety precautions. He waited to speak until they'd made it all the way down and looked around at the room Mal was showing off, nodding in his appreciation.

"This should do," Alic said, putting his hands in his pockets, "Do you remember me discussing with you that mirror my contacts in the ministry had told me about? I know where it's being kept," he said, the implications in that statement he hoped was obvious to his rather intelligent friend.

He'd heard about a mirror that had the ability to reach through to other worlds and bring forth a living replica of someone, but it seemed that version of themself was free of any inhibitions and morals. He'd mentioned it to Mal before, mentioning that he was interested in getting his hands on it and figuring out for himself how true it was.

At Alic’s mention of the mirror, Mal’s curiosity turned into concern that was clearly written on his furrowed brow. “Yes,” he replied warily, aware of what the mirror was allegedly capable of. Or more accurately, what one could be capable of if they had the mirror in their possession. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?” It was a direct question, and one that cut straight to the heart of the point of contention. “There are plenty of alternatives, aren’t there?”

He trusted that Alic wouldn’t have brought up the mirror for no good reason, but was the situation dire enough to warrant the use of such an artifact, especially one that they neither understood properly nor even had in their possession? Or perhaps Alic did not intend to use the mirror? The mere threat of unleashing dark reflections of people could be as powerful as the act itself. For now Mal had to give his friend the benefit of the doubt until Alic made his intentions clear.

Alic sighed a bit at the question, "Yes I'm sure. These people that I've been talking to... they want to take action but they're afraid. They've been pushed down into the dirt too many times to feel they have the strength to get back up, but if we had these reflections, they could fight, they could help right the balance without tipping the scales too far out of balance," he insisted, shaking his head, "Things have to change, you know that," he looked over at Mal, "And I'm tired of simply talking a big game. It's time to actually do something."

He sighed, running a hand over his hair down to the back of his neck, a sign Mal would recognize to show he was amped up, antsy, "Besides. I've already had someone retrieve it," he turned to face him, "It's a matter of... it's missing now," he sighed a little in frustration, "The person who was supposed to get it... had a change of heart and abandoned it somewhere," he mused, crossing his arms, "Which means that unexplored and uncontrolled artifact is loose in the world. I don't know where she left it. Might have.... lost my temper and made that conversation impossible to have," a shadow seemed to cross over his face, one that usually showed whenever his temper led to rather violent responses.

"I will retrieve it though. This is the perfect tool to achieve what I have set out to do."

Mal felt Alic’s exasperation just as keenly and viscerally as the latter insisted that things had to change. It was time to take action and help the downtrodden and marginalised fight back against a system that cared next to nothing about them, and the institutions that did nothing except to perpetuate and exacerbate their misery and suffering. And Alic was right: Mal did know that something had to be done, not in the distant or near future but as quickly as possible. The time was not ripe yet, but the information broker understood too well that the risks involved if he stayed his hand. The people might rise up without a proper plan, and end up escalating the situation and turning it into a major crisis.

While Mal said nothing, his inscrutable expression and prolonged silence – or more specifically, his inability to refute his friend outright – would have been clear enough of an answer to Alic. That impassive facade was only broken when Alic revealed that the artifact was now somewhere out there. “Missing?!” The frustration in Mal’s voice was not only his own, but what he was subconsciously absorbing from Alic as well. Kneading the bridge of his nose in a useless attempt to relieve the tension he was feeling, Mal shook his head as his friend explained – put bluntly – how the situation got so fucked up. Surely Alic knew how dangerous the mirror was and how delicately the deal had to be handled!

But what was done was done, and the only thing they could do now was damage control. “We will retrieve it, Alic,” he corrected his friend, his firm tone a clear indication that he would not accept any further negotiations. “And we will do whatever it takes to secure the mirror, and protect the wizarding world and its people.” With that assertion he was staking a claim to Alic’s plans at the same time; he did not like what Alic intended to do once he got his hands on the mirror, and as much as he wanted to trust his dear friend, it didn’t seem to be the right thing to do.

Alic's eyes flicked from where he'd been staring to Mal as he put the emphasis on the pronoun in his sentence. There was a look on his face that said he didn't trust it. He'd grown a bit more... closed off since he'd enacted the retrieval of the mirror. He wasn't asking for forgiveness or permission for what he planned to do and he knew that wouldn't sit right with many, and he had been wondering where Mal would fall into that equation. It seemed at that moment he had a bit of a piece of a puzzle and he was going to test how it fit.

"Oh?" he quipped and turned to face Mal a bit more head-on, "And what is your plan once I have it in my possession?" he asked, squinting a little, that shadow in his expression not entirely gone- a warning, "Will you try and wrest it away from me?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest, "Or are you going to actually help? It may not seem like it, but I do intend to help the wizarding world and its people with this, but not everyone in the wizarding world needs your protection or our forgiveness," he added.

He didn't want to fight him on this. Mal was one of the few people he truly trusted, but there was just something that told him that perhaps this was not a moment to trust anyone at all. Not even him. He needed to be sure that he would not try and take the mirror, and that he would support him in this effort. Because of Mal, he knew enough about prying into someone's mind, but he also learned because of Mal how to keep people out. There'd be no way to know what he was really thinking, so he hoped whatever his friend said was enough to convince him.

Mal stayed silent when Alic asked what he would do once the mirror was in his – Alic’s – possession once more. It was not out of guilt or anything; rather, he didn’t yet have a plan.

How Alic took his silence, however, was a different matter. Words like “wrest” and “actually help” and “your protection” were tossed out in a seemingly careless manner, although Alic’s choice was words was no doubt deliberate. “I don’t have a plan now,” Mal admitted flatly. “What is your plan then?” Ignite the fire and watch the world burn? he wanted to ask, but he held his tongue. “I lack information, Alic. Information about the mirror. What it can do. What the ‘reflections’ are, where they come from, what their goals are.” He looked at Alic straight in the eye, his gaze unflinching and firm but not hostile. “We’re playing with fire, and we must tame and master this fire before we can wield it.”

In all their years of friendship they had their fair share of disagreements, but this was potentially the most severe and fundamental of them. Stepping away metaphorically and physically to cool off for a moment, Mal headed over to the bar counter and took his time to pour out two drinks, before returning and offering one to Alic in a symbolic gesture of goodwill and friendship.

Worried as he was about the mirror, there was something else that troubled Mal more. A wildcard, a chaotic element he could neither predict nor control. And that was Alic. “Who do you trust, Alic?” he asked bluntly. There was no time or point in playing games anymore. He’d lay all his cards down on the table and hope that Alic would reciprocate. “Clearly not the Ministry. They’re part of the problem. The masses? They know nothing and can’t see beyond their selfish wants, and their anger blinds them to the needs of the society. Our allies in the wizarding underworld who have been fighting against and subverting the system? Or do you deem them just as complicit in our current situation because they have’t done enough to change things for the better?”

There was one last part to that question. “And what about me?” As he said those words he averted his gaze – his Legilimency worked better when he had eye contact with the person whose mind he was reading, and he didn’t want to sense any of Alic’s thoughts when the latter gave his answer. Be it the truth or a lie, he would hear it from Alic’s mouth.

Alic listened to his response, gauging something as he did, eyes slightly narrowed on Mal. When he brought him the drink, Alic didn't take it outright, arms still crossed, shoulders tensed. As he asked who Alic trusted, his gaze didn't seem to shift or change, as if he'd turned into some kind of stone. It wasn't until Mal looked away with his final question that Alic seemed to finally actually undo whatever knot had been holding him so tight. To him, that gesture spoke volumes.

He reached out to take the drink finally, "Trust is a weighty term," he murmured before taking a sip of the drink, "One that I would only possibly apply to you. Unknowns can't be entirely trusted...." Used on the other hand... because just as he didn't know much about who he was always working with, they didn't know anything about him either. Though he had someone helping him get information easily enough, someone who managed to blend right in... Either way, he'd given Mal a hedged response, one that indicated he wanted to trust him as he always had, but something was keeping him from feeling like he completely could.

"For now, this is all hypothetical. We can't do anything regardless until the mirror is found. I'll have to try and retrace her steps from where she retrieved the mirror, though the elements of their thievery can't be completely recreated. She took advantage of the chaos a few years ago to take it from its hiding place in Gringotts and had it hidden away until recently," he sipped the drink again as he shared what information he was willing to share for the moment.

For a few moments Alic didn’t take the offered drink. His body language was closed, and briefly Mal’s thoughts turned to how a rift had developed between them without him realising. They had always had their differences and each time they had managed to come to a common understanding, but were their opinions truly irreconcilable this time round?

It was only when Mal looked away and asked if Alic trusted him did the latter accept the drink and answer his question. Mal allowed himself a faint smile of relief. For now it seemed that they were still friends and allies, and it would break his heart if their relationship ever changed for the worse.

He let out a sigh and nodded as Alic raised a very critical point: everything hinged on them retrieving the mirror. “You’re right. Let’s focus on finding and securing that mirror first.” What would happen after that, however, would be a completely different story. He turned to look at his friend again, his gaze gentle yet determined and firm. “And when we get that mirror, Alic, I promise I’ll not lay a finger on it or take it from you.” While their earlier conversation did not instil much faith in Mal that Alic would do what was right – or more accurately, what the information broker felt was right – he still had to place his trust in Alic, just as he had asked of his friend earlier. Perhaps Mal was wrong and Alic was right, and it was indeed time to take more drastic actions. But that was something only time could tell.

Alic listened to Mal's response and noted the relief to Alic's conceding and allowing some trust. He stepped back, pacing around a little a he listened to Mal's promise and sipped his drink. He turned and looked to his old friend, considering, "And I promise that I won't take any...drastic actions hastily," he said, "But I also promise that I intend to use this to even the odds, not for some maddening campaign," he shook his head, turning back toward him.

"I know you've got your growing staff here, but you are the only person I would ever turn to in this," he told him, and there was an unspoken bit there of how Mal was honestly the only thing keeping him in check. The only thing keeping him from simply going on a rampage and righting his perceived wrongs through fire and brimstone.

He took another sip of the drink, "I suppose the next step is to let you know when my contact finds the mirror," he said, "I have... contacts I've been making in other regards. There are several surprising pieces adding themselves to the chess board," he used as he looked at the liquid in the glass, humming in thought before looking to Mal again, "How's business?" he asked as if to disengage from the conversation and let it drop by the way side for now. He had nothing more he wanted to share.