[Welwyn Garden City] Radioactive {Melissa}

August 2002

There was a particular sort of static electricity in the air that made Regan know that the pendulum was swinging back toward the favor of the cause. Gaius' release from Azkaban had gave way to a slight panic to the public. Articles were written of worry, hate, and dread. The Swedish Minister was some sort of hidden ally that suddenly appeared, in a sort of way that made Regan skeptical of his dear friend's release. There was trust to be earned in his mind, and this olive branch of a 'favor' was too good to not have strings attached to it.

His own network of peers were antsy, some people were making moves they typically wouldn't. The wizards who functioned within the shadows of society where peeking out from the woodwork, making his job a bit more complicated. A former follower of the dark lord landed himself in prison for being caught spray painting the dark mark in an ally. "Why would you do something like that?" His eyes narrowed at the man, Charles Harper. "Are you trying to damage the frail seedling? Take away what has been given?" Regan hissed, his nose almost touching Charles', the man's eyes widening. "I won't recommend a reduced sentence for your stupidity. Think next time before you act when you're released in six months." Regan turned on his heel and walked out of the interrogation room and down the hall, hearing the man yelling for him, calling for him, before the Prison Auror's rushed passed him to subdue Mr. Harper. The shouts went silent.

He quickly checked his pocket watch, knowing he had another meeting to attend that he was late for. @Melissa Knox wanted to meet with him, something urgent to discuss. He had gotten used to the vague owl mail he had received over the many years of his career. He responded in kind a time to meet him at his home, three o'clock in the afternoon, giving her his address in Welwyn Garden City. There was always a risk when it came to his home office, but he trusted Melissa enough that if she would meet with him privately in his home she would understand it was his turf and his rules she would be playing. He reserved his home to his most trusted clients and friends. Why would he meet a stranger where his family slept?

He apparated himself to his home, the house elf greeting him excitedly at the grand foyer, "Ms. Knox is in your office Master Reddington."

"Thank you Twig. Did you ask her if she wanted anything?" There was a slight pause with an 'oh' look on the elf's face, "no?" Twig shook his head, "might want to go do that and let her know I'll be there in just a moment." The elf raced off down the corridor to the back side of the house where his large office and library sat, with a door closing the area off from the rest of the home. What used to be servants quarters some time in the past was changed over to Regan's place of work. He didn't see value in having servants around the house, as the house elves tied to the home did the jobs just fine with tending to the home and kept it in order.

He entered his office through the ornate double door, and gave the woman dressed in a tight dress a smile, "Hello Melissa, it is good to see you again. I hope the house elves have been kind to you," if not he'd have a word with them. "I apologize for my delay, I had to deal with a man who didn't know his place." He looked out the sunny window to the well kept garden full of flowers and life for a brief moment before turning back to the woman sitting in the sofa. Regan sat himself in the armchair opposite to his younger friend.

Twig rushed into the room with Melissa's drink of choice, setting it on the coffee table, "whiskey, it's a top shelf kind of day." He responded to Twig's presence, and the elf rushed back out of the room.

"So, what may I do for you Ms Knox? I hear you've been quite a busy woman as of late with the Daily Prophet. I'm sure you're not here to interview me otherwise your letter would of said so, and I would have cleared my calendar for today. Have you tried the chocolate peppermints?" Regan pointed to the chocolates in a glass dish on the coffee table, "they're from Germany on one of my recent travels, given to me by a man who almost lost his property to the German Ministry. They wanted to build a new building for research." He scoffed and shook his head.


--
@Elena hope this is okay!

“Thank you.” Melissa said with an innocent smile on her face, as Regan’s house elf opened the door for her. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and she was in Welwyn Garden City to meet with her lawyer. She had been pleased by the fact that Regan had understood their meeting had to be particularly secluded, and had given her the address to his home office. The journalist had been extremely vague when writing to the lawyer, however, if anyone understood the reasons for her indistinctness, then it would be Regan. They’ve been working together for quite some time now, so not only that their level of trust was especially high, but the amount of respect they had for each other was something Melissa treasured. And that mattered most; when attending to such business, trust was of utmost importance. More than business partners, they were friends. She did not mind showing the slightest amount of weakness and going into his territory; she trusted him enough to know he would respect her and not impose his rules.

The house elf had taken her to the office, and Melissa was not surprised that it was extremely elegant. Such a décor only offered one a higher sense of security when approaching Regan as a lawyer; if his home was lavish, it mean that his success rate was proportional. It was great marketing. Melissa arranged her dress as she took a seat on the sofa, deciding to distract herself with analysing the view from the window, which revealed a beautiful garden full of flowers. That summer was doing wonders for Regan’s garden, for it was truly lovely. It was grand enough to divert her rather than leave her thoughts and concerns invade her mind. Soon enough Twig came back, and kindly inquired whether or not she would like something to drink. “White wine.” She ordered, assuming that Regan would have a varied palette of drinks for his clients, even at his home office.

Shortly afterwards, Regan himself made an appearance, entering through the ornate double door. “Good afternoon, Regan.” Melissa replied sweetly, therefore also revealing she had been satisfied by the behaviour of his house elves. She let out a soft sigh at her friend’s apology, as he explained the reason for his tardiness. “It is such a shame you had to waste precious time on someone unworthy.” Melissa commented, rather nonchalantly. “But it is a job that needs to be done, unfortunately more often than rare. Some people just cannot understand their place.” She nodded her head disapprovingly, for she could only imagine how awful it must have been to deal with such pleasantries. In the end, as a journalist she encountered such individuals on a daily basis, and it was indeed becoming rather tedious to constantly remind people they were unworthy of her presence. Monotony was not something she enjoyed, and neither was human stupidity.

The house elf soon arrived with her glass of wine, and Melissa smirked as Regan asked for whiskey. “Rough day.” She commented, but perfectly understood what her friend had meant. Before she could answer the lawyer’s question, Melissa decided to play along and try one of the chocolate peppermints. “How could I ever refuse?” She gracefully picked one and gently munched on it. “Quite refreshing.” The writer remarked, and then shook her head at the story. “Governments these days have no knowledge of boundaries. Always so abusive of their power.” Melissa paused for a moment, as she let out a soft sigh, and then continued. “But the chocolate peppermints are fine indeed. Very soothing if you have a troubled client visiting.”

Crossing her legs, Melissa picked up her glass of wine. “I am not here to interview you today, however we should arrange something. I think a lot of people would be interested on your perspective regarding how governments treat the people.” She took a sip, and then elegantly placed the glass back on the table. “And this relates to why I am here as well.” Melissa’s tone changed from especially sweet and kind to a more serious one. “I have a very interesting interview taking place soon, and it shall be published next month, in September.” She blinked once, and then leaned against the back of the sofa, her right hand falling on top of her knee as she crossed her legs, her fingers gently tapping against it. “I hope that you can help me with all the lowly individuals who will want to portray me in an unfavourable manner. You know, to make them understand their place, for my own freedom of speech is far more important than theirs.” Melissa was still vague, nonetheless, she needed reassurance before she could further develop on the matter. She knew she could trust Regan, nevertheless it was still a rather delicate matter, the most exclusive scoop one could ever hope for as a journalist.

Regan closed his eyes, nodding at the fact that it was a shame that he had to deal with people who didn't know how to deal with themselves. While he would go after the large cases, often times he was stuck dealing with smaller fish, mostly to keep himself on the radar as well as keep his family's Gringott's vault safe from depleting. "Indeed it has been rough", Twig made an appearance with his glass of whiskey, three ice cubes, just how he enjoyed it. He took a sip as she made a point about the government and their glorious oversight. It was true that they were quite a complicated bunch of people with complex rules. One of the reasons international law was entertaining for him. "I am glad they're to your liking," he perked up, a cheerful smile appearing on his face.

He twirled the cubes within his glass for a moment as Melissa shared the reason behind the quiet and quant meeting. "Mmmhm," he nodded to her continuing on a little deeper in the matter. An interview, likely scandalous, something that would have backlash and controversy. Certainly she wouldn't be here asking him for help if it wasn't of concern. Regan wouldn't of minded if someone showed up for fun, for drinks and cakes his beloved wife made. However, it dripped with his name all over it, he felt the situation perfume around him like a cloud of fresh roses.

"A serious interview?" he leaned back in his chair with a seemingly dorky smile on his face, "like career breaking, or making?" It didn't matter. Regan knew for Melissa it was both. He was silent for a moment, taking a small sip from his glass before looking at the ice cubes. It reminded him how life was much like the ice cubes before him, keeping his drink cold. There was a great deal going on on the surface, but much more was going on underneath, but on top of that if one didn't know how ice cubes worked, they wouldn't know the drink was cold from appearance. "September isn't too far away," he began, "I recommend a place outside the view of the Prophet for the serious interview. Despite your hand, it can run without you." As it had. "Somewhere across the canal, that is if this important person is capable of travel. I know of a wizard who absolutely adores journalism in France, Manu Lemaire, if you require assistance. He makes the best magical creature cupcakes that will surprise you, they move." It was a big deal. "I will give his contact info before you leave today if you would like it. If so, let him know I shared his name. He's due for a payment," Regan winked at the woman before him.

He took another sip, "I will of course assist you with these lowly individuals who may prevent your most promising piece to grace Britain's most read newspaper. What kind of human being would I be to not see that happen? It would be devastating to viewership and numbers of papers sold if the interview were to slip elsewhere The bean counters in that basement would throw a fit." Freedom dies in darkness, or so many say. "What shall I do for you? How may my assistance help you?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his glass cradled with both of his hands. His eyes focused on the woman in graceful pink, playing delicate when he knew quite well that she was anything but. He enjoyed their friendship.

Regan’s question did not catch her unprepared. Melissa smiled sweetly at her lawyer’s inquiry, and allowed herself to offer him an endearing glance. “I suppose you can say it’s the interview of the century.” The blonde remarked rather modestly, while elegantly picking up her glass of wine, and gently swaying it before taking a quick sip. “I admit, it will bring me a lot of profit, if you know what I mean.” He would; in the end, Regan knew that Melissa was the heiress of one of the families who founded the Daily Prophet, so the newspaper selling well would undoubtedly bring her fruitions. “We can say that it is a piece that will surface a lot of controversies though.” The writer added; it was not unusual, as only controversial pieces sold copies. It only made sense from a marketing perspective.

“Mm.” Melissa gestured with her free hand, as she swallowed another sip of her wine. “I highly appreciate your concern and help, but I have this covered.” Well, it wasn’t her that made the arrangements, but the interviewee; nonetheless, it was someone whom she trusted very well, despite the fact that she couldn’t exactly tell Regan this specific piece of information. While her lawyer knew of her beliefs and shared her ideology, he was not aware of her affiliations during the war, and it was better for a minimum number of people to know that she’d fallen for a dirty halfblood’s shameless lies. Only those who suffered as much as she due to this could understand, and Melissa preferred to keep it that way.

“Nobody but the interviewee and I know of the location, and it must be kept this way, for everyone’s best interests.” She felt a pang of guilt denying the proposed connection, however, Melissa had to admit that it felt nice to have Regan around whenever she’d needed him. Ever since Kassander’s death, he had been very kind and helpful to her, and she had always appreciated it. More than her attorney, he was her friend, and the feeling was clearly mutual, for it was noticeable in his concern for her safety. Offering a connection was not something a lawyer would do for any client. 

She nodded approvingly at Regan’s words, leaning against the back of the sofa once more, fingers continuing to tap against her knee. “You can do a lot of me.” Melissa winked playfully, taking another sip. “I shall let you know whom the interviewee is, but I must demand client confidentiality. The strictest. You know I trust you, but, at times…” The witch loosely gestured to the chamber, implying that the walls could have ears. Nobody knew how the current government’s radical approaches were enacted, and Melissa wouldn’t be surprised if a successful lawyer of Regan’s prestige was monitored by the Ministry.

“Read it. Just the name.” Melissa looked Regan in the eye, encouraging him to use his abilities on her and find out the name on his own. It was not the first time a Legilimens would read her mind, and Melissa was quite good at hiding the thoughts she did not want to be seen. In this case, the fact that she had previously known the interviewee she would meet up with, and the bond between the two of them. In the end, they had worked quite closely during the war, and, while hard to hide, Melissa trusted her own abilities as much as she trusted Regan to not dig too deep. “After you do, you can tell me how we can approach the situation after the article’s publication.”

Melissa inhaled deeply as she took another sip, let it be more generous, from her wine. She then cleared her mind and kept merely one thought. I am going to interview @Gaius Purcell.