[dark bazaar] two figures on egg shells (Pyx)

The house of Abercrombie came with two great burdens in the new post Dark Lord world, that of their influence politically and economically and the less fortunate burden of their war time history.  There was a constant struggle to remain ontop while quietly distancing themselves from the negative public opinion of Farren's late mother the rather reviled Death Eater without shaming her memory or departing from family values entirely for the sake of publicity. With the war over and society on the mend events blatantly labeled as dark arts events were not things Farren was typically allowed to attend as the public face of the family. Her role was clear and had been for many years, she was the distraction from what was really going on behind the velvet curtain. Though there had been serious missteps in managing her role before she and the family took her role very seriously. Be it testifying to the Ministry about taxation ordinances against estate homes or publicly donating hundreds of books to the rebuilt Hogwarts library, every public thing she did was intentional.

Events such as the Dark Bazaar were duties that would typically fall to her father Rawdon Abercrombie, a quiet, studious man of great privacy and aversion to all things public. It was he who did the heavy lifting in the family when it came to anything remotely nefarious. It was only in situations where he was completely indisposed that Farren stepped into his shoes to handle the family's dirty work. Though one could hardly argue that attending a formal auction of dark artifacts was essential family business, Farren was not about to argue with the opportunity to attend. With her father indisposed on Switzerland seeking health treatments she was doing anything and everything she could to minimize the impact of his absence, to reduce his personal guilt of course.

It had all come about so suddenly and funnily Farren hadn't had time to ask the finer points or details as to why she was being encouraged to attend an event so abnormal to her regularly scheduled social and public events. Over dinner her Grandfather had mentioned her cousin, Pyxis, might ask her to accompany him to the event and she should go without concern if she liked.  Grandfather even ended up providing her a list of rare Dark Arts books to be on the look for; for though the Abercrombies housed the most exquisite library in Europe there were still a few titles that evaded them. He also provided for the pair of Abercrombie cousins an attache. One of family's security wizards, their glorified henchmen, would be attending the event undercover by himself. Not only would he handle any bidding on items more curious than books or an odd trinket that Farren or Pyxis wished to make he would be keeping his well trained eyes on the young heirs.  With the anti-pureblood and anti-wealth sentiments running rampant through the post war society the Abercrombies were more careful than ever with their heir and that of the Hartridges too.

As with all social events a set of dresses previously custom made for Farren had been trotted out for her selection. She had selected a gown she'd yet to wear to any public event as this was at least a bit more special than a run of the mill social event. The classically cut grey gown had been modernized with the dramatic slit and folding of the skirt. Heirloom diamonds beyond value were draped across her décolletage and hung from her ears, peeking from strands of loose dark hair that had been swept back into her typical messy chignon style. Farren had just decided to await her cousin in the foyer of Dalemain where they both resided.  The multistory vestibule of their home was dimly lit by the dozens of overhead magical candles in the chandelier, the light dancing off the stone work of the wide stair case and the smooth marble floors below.

Though Dalemain was her permanent home and had been the majority of her life Pyxis was using the vast estate as more of a convalescent home since his release from Azkaban the previous summer. As of late he'd been spending more time at his rightful home with the Hartridges but he was still residing here where the Abercrombie approved and controlled Mediwizards and therapists had direct and fully private access to him. During his time in the home Farren would consider their relationship to have progressed from hesitantly acquainted distant cousins who interacted only in the most formal of occasions to cautiously friendly distant cousins who interacted only when necessary for the family or business and always with some degree of egg shell treading.   

There was still some contempt on the part of Farren over the event of the Death Eaters of late fall. The mark which he had branded her with was visible on the inside of her left arm to anyone who bothered to look closely enough to notice the small black wildflowers drawn against her ivory skin. While innocent enough to just look like a typical tattoo made for fashion she knew, he knew. There was another bit of awkwardness that hung between them that Farren found kept them from feeling like actual friends. Though he'd been at Dalemain for several months now and though they'd known eachother her whole life there was a significant power dynamic change between them. Once the half disowned third cousin who was lucky to be allowed to trail at his great aunt's heels when he joined the Death Eaters, Pyxis was now significantly more. With unexpected deaths in his mother's family he had become heir to the Hartridge line, a clan as powerful, historic, and pure as the Abercrombies, perhaps their only true rival in the current climate. His Grandfather was older than Spencer Abercrombie and he was the direct heir, he would inherit far sooner than Farren. While it was understood that Farren's father had no intention of acting as the head of the family he would inherit before her and would remain active behind the scenes at least in some capacities. Add to the complication that Pyxis was first by blood an Abercrombie and therefore if necessary deference must be shown to the head of the Abercrombie clan, in which he is subordinate. So in life Pyxis was perhaps now superior to Farren on paper in some ways but subordinate to her family line in others. He was also a veteran of The Cause which she was not, a sore spot now that he had branded her as some kind of subordinate. Yet she was by far more experienced in the business they were primarily in - being heirs. Perhaps they were equals, Farren assumed that was the message she was supposed to be getting and propagating. But it was not a natural alignment given the complexities beneath the surface. Maybe they would dance across Faberge egg shells until one of them officially inherited and their positions became clear, she wasn't sure but there was a considerable cloud of uneasiness and hesitation in all their social interactions that she did not have with other cousins and that sat poorly with her.

All of this complex social hierarchy and placement had been beat into their subconscious as children and would seem inconsequential to anyone raised outside of a traditional pureblood family but to the Abercrombies tradition and knowing ones place was a considerable identity thread. Perhaps she was too competitive but she couldn't help but feel like going to a social event with him or into a political foray was like two princes showing up to the same war as very uneasy allies. Ren doubted that he minded this half as much as she did, his new life certainly seemed like all he could have ever dreamed. From the middle of the ladder to the very top of another in no time at all with no effort. Not to mention he was now in great favor with her own Grandfather Spencer. Just the other day she'd seen him attend a meeting with his Grandfather and hers that she was not privy to nor even informed of. Naturally he wouldn't care if the top rung of his ladder was a few inches above or below hers, he was on the top rung finally, that would be all he cared about.

Sighing Farren pulled her silver fox stole tighter around her bare shoulders to fend off the draft of the foyer. She knew she was stupid to dwell on the detailed mechanics of the hierarchy between she and Pyxis but as always her mind ran rampant with fantastical over analysis of medieval succession and hierarchy laws. Despite that she was not too detached from reality to know that to nearly the whole rest of the world they were nothing but two impossibly rich, political extremists with no jobs and criminal records - even if she didn't actually have a criminal record herself. That was fine with her, it wasn't her fault the whole world had gone mad for mudbloods and denim and marrying shop keeps and giving their kids muggle primary schooling instead of upholding centuries of culture. At least she knew the one thing they would always have in common was that view point, if all else fails they could rally around that to make the egg shells less fragile somehow.

The rat-tat-tat of the heels of his dress slippers on the stone floors drew her from her thought spiral and back to the present. Pyxis was a handsome man though she felt awkward calling him a man, even in her mind. At almost 30 he had grown up nicely into the lean height all Abercrombie men seemed to be blessed with and his formal wear fit him perfectly now that he had filled out again. They were a handsome pair very likely to turn heads during this first and probably last public outing together. Luckily for them this would be a press free and camera free event so their evening would be safe from the pointless speculation of gossip rags. Always the lady Farren greeted him gently and thanked him for his compliments before allowing him to take her arm so they could depart for the Bazaar.

Dalemain and then Domum Vulpeculae, England, March 2001

The guest suite, which the Hartridge heir had been using as a temporary place of residence for several months, was lit by the dim flickering flames of candles hung upon the walls. The window at the edge of the room gave a perfect view of the scenic grounds that lay beneath. If one were to look out they would have even seen the distinct figure of a unicorn in the distance, but alas neither of the room’s current occupants had chosen to do so. Instead a blue eyed man with a lithe frame was stood before his master, fixing his tie, with a concerned look on his face. The man’s name was Mr. Dosett and he had been employed as the personal valet of Pyxis since the former Deatheater’s release from Azkaban nine months before hand. “Are you sure you’re alright Master Pyxis?” He queried with evident worry as he made the finishing touches to his Lord’s outfit.

“Yes Mr. Dosett, I am quite fine. I just have a lot in my mind at the moment” the Hartridge heir answered in a long suffering tone. At times his valet’s fussing about was quite annoying, not that Pyxis could blame the man for being worried. He knew himself that his behaviour had been off all evening; to begin with, he had agreed to the man’s first outfit suggestion rather than contemplating several options as he normally would have before a social event. Secondly, he had not made light conversation with the man while he dressed him, or made his daily enquiry about the state of affairs at Harlington. Of course the Hartridge family’s butler Mr. Barrett sent him regular reports, but there were occasionally details the butler deemed inappropriate to share with a member of the family who was not the master of the house. It was for that reason he had Mr. Dosett report back to him about the gossip shared amongst the servants. Pyxis did not like the idea of anything, even the most inconsequential of events, happening in his home to which he was not privy.

It was the unusual nature of a meeting he had with his maternal grandfather and Farren’s grandfather that was the cause of the twenty nine year olds withdrawn demeanour. Firstly, meetings with both men present were rather rare. His maternal grandfather Callum usually summoned him to Harlington for private meetings about Hartridge business, while his interactions with the Abercrombie patriarch were usually limited to enquiries about his on-going therapy over breakfast, or brief political advice now that he had begun to act as Callum’s proxy in the wizengamot. The reason for this, in Pyxis’ opinion, was that such gatherings were usually awkward and stifling affairs, due to the tenuous relationship shared between the two great wizarding patriarchs. The reason for this uneasiness was rather simple. While they had never been out and out enemies, and in fact often shared political and financial links, they had represented different aspects of wizarding attitude towards the two recent civil wars in Britain. On the one hand there was Spencer, while his personal allegiance had not been made public; it was well known that the Abercrombie patriarch sided with he-who-must-not-be-named. His wife Farrah had been a Deatheater, and his daughter in law Victoria had been one of the Dark Lord’s top assassins. He was said to be in favour of dealing with the threat posed by the mudblood infilteration of wizarding society by any means necessary. The Hartridge patriarch on the other hand had proven to be Spencer’s counterpart amongst the neutral families. While Callum was a staunch traditionalist, who looked down on anything remotely muggle with disdain, he had not seen war as the answer to their problem. He had been in favour of not allowing muggleborns entrance to the wizarding world at best, or taking the more moderate route of introducing classes to the Hogwarts curriculum that would teach the mudbloods about the traditions of the world they sought to become a part of. He had argued vehemently that a war would serve to weaken their cause rather than strengthen it. It could be argued that Callum had been proven right in the end, as distinguished lines such as the Crouches, Lestranges and Blacks were now extinct in the wake of the war, but neither man were in a position to boast. Both patriarchs had lost loved ones.

However, as surprising as the meeting itself may have been, it was its contents that startled Pyxis most of all. It had begun with the expected namely his grandfather informing him that he had been out of Azkaban long enough for them to begin considering an arranged marriage.  He was turning thirty that year, and if they left it any longer then they risked families of note no longer considering him an eligible match for their daughters. The man then proceeded to stun him with the shocking declaration that he and Spencer both agreed that Pyxis ought to seriously consider courting Farren. Callum argued that Pyxis and the Abercrombie heiress shared a mutual respect for tradition, in a world where even many of the older lines were starting to allow themselves to become influenced by muggle trends. In addition to this, his former prisoner status meant his options were rather limited as many of the traditionally light and neutral families would refuse to contemplate such a union as they did not wish to be associated with the Deatheaters. Spencer, however, would be willing to overlook it due to the Abercrombie’s family existing issues in that area provided Pyxis continued to play his role of the formerly naïve idealist who now wished to atone for his misguided actions. The suggestion had stunned the Hartridge heir. He knew that as the Hartridge heir he would be expected to wed, but he had never imagined that the patriarchs, particularly Spencer, would suggest Farren as his match. After all, while he had risen to the upper echelons of the Hartridge hierarchy, he still belonged to a half disowned lesser branch of the Abercrombie line. Almost as surprising was the two men’s decision, voiced by Spencer, to not make their union an order he must follow, but simply an idea he should consider while escorting Farren to the upcoming Bazaar.

Now the night in question had arrived and the Hartridge heir was extremely nervous hence the aforementioned zoned out demeanour throughout the evening thus far. Once he was fully dressed the handsome pureblood made his way to a nearby to take in his appearance. Pyxis thought he made for quite a handsome figure in his suit with a white shirt and a black bowtie. His thick black hair was styled in its usual array of messy looking spikes and on his wrist was the watch Callum had gifted to him as a coming of age present. His wand was casually concealed in the premium wand holster on his left wrist. Although the Hartridge heir highly doubted anything untoward would occur tonight, and they had their security attaché as back up, it was better to be safe than sorry. “I do not expect we will be terribly late tonight Mr. Dosett, but in the event we are any later than two you are free to retire to your room downstairs”. The valet looked horrified at the very suggestion. The former Deatheater chuckled to himself before he departed the suite and made his way to the foyer.

When the Hartridge heir finally finished his descent down the stairs he offered the heiress a warm smile before proceeding to kiss her cheek. “I hope it is not too bold of me to say that you look absolutely beautiful this evening Cousin Farren” he offered politely with an odd hitch to his voice. It was strange. Pyxis had never truly taken a moment to consider Farren as a woman before. For most of their life the eight year age difference meant that he viewed her as a child and their interactions were limited at best. Then when he finally did encounter Farren for the first time after she made the transition from girl to woman his mind had simply been too overwhelmed by the idea of possessing freedom after two years of incarceration. The months that followed he had been too busy trying to recover from the physical and mental trauma of Azkaban, catch up on the current political climate, and learn about the management of the Hartridge estate to seriously consider Farren or any other woman. Now that he was taking the time to do so there was no denying that the Abercrombie heiress was a breath-taking lady. Her pale skin was soft, the slight plumpness to her lips made them one of her most alluring facial features, in fact he found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her, the diamond heirlooms served to draw his attention to her smooth neck, and the classically cut grey gown drew attention to her mile long legs. The meeting had forced him to begin considering the younger Abercrombie in a different light and now Pyxis could not believe he had failed to truly appreciate her radiance before tonight. “I once again thank you for accepting my invitation to attend with me” he uttered sincerely with a friendly countenance before Pyxis took her arm.

It was not long before the duo experienced the all too familiar feeling of the tightening of the chest that came with apparation. Upon their arrival Pyxis took a moment to ensure that Lady Farren was alright, as he was aware of the discomfort the form of travel caused many. The Hartridge heir guided the heiress to the area where they could exchange their galleons for golden rings and proceeded to purchase ten rings for each of them. It was highly unlikely they would end up spending so much, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

The pureblood then offered Farren a warm smile before he started to peruse his copy of the itinerary they had both been given. “Are there any particular items you would like to bid on tonight Cousin Farren?” The words were spoken with a soft smile while he awaited her reply. She likely would have expected him to let her pick the first item they’d go in search of as ever since the night of her birthday Pyxis had striven to show Farren due consideration, while not sinking to subservience, to make up for the way he had handled things that night. This was going to be an interesting date, uh evening. 

Farren didn't spend too much time thinking about the hitch in Pyxis' voice or how he seemed to almost lavish her with compliments tonight whereas for her birthday, a night she much preferred her gown for, he'd hardly commented on her appearance apart from the common compliment one would pay to the birthday girl in a pretty dress. Though she noticed she immediately moved past it. The poor thing was at best socially awkward around people his own age what with being locked up in jail then locked up with his Grandfather for 'training'. Unphased she hunkered closer to him as they lifted off the floor and into space pulled magically by their spines almost towards the event.

Landing from aparation in high heels and a gown was never an easy feat but Farren was an experienced sailor and weathered their trip perfectly. She offered him a quick smile to reassure him she wasn't about to topple over of a twisted ankle or wretch from discomfort of being whipped through time and space in a corset. Taking her queues from him she followed him closely to the cashier's desk where he exchanged a stack of galleons for them both.

Unsure if Pyxis was aware of the ins and outs of escorting a lady to such an event Farren took his arm as he stepped away from the table and leaned in close to whisper to him, "I do hope..." she glanced up at him her mood was obviously jovial though it was clear she felt awkward, "that you were planning on carrying my rings in your pocket. You see, silk chiffon skirting isn't exactly suitable for carrying much of anything....well....of course my wand and lipstick are concealed but apart from that no pockets." Perhaps he would judge her but ladies didn't carry money and unless she was going to be out of the house for several hours she didn't carry a handbag, unnecessary baggage. At these events there was always an attendant in the ladies room to offer you mouth wash or a powder for your nose or a fan if you needed such a thing and apart from your personal shade of lipstick and your wand you didn't need much else to leave your house for a couple of hours at a party. It was just the way things were as she'd been taught.

Offering a coy grin she pulled away, giving him his space again but showing no sign of offering to take her gold rings off of him if he dared protest that she should carry her own rings. She too turned her attention to the small catalog of items she'd been given. Naturally she turned to the back where the books were listed first as she'd been instructed by her Grandfather to look for specific books to add to their prolific collection. "Hmmm," she scanned the list looking for the books she'd committed to memory, "This book here, page fourteen, item BNF11 looks to be either the one Grandfather asked me to look for or a very similar edition."

"Godelot's Magick Moste Evile, a hand copied edition thought to be an original draft or copy of the original draft circa 900AD. This book is has hand written notes as well as illustrations drawn into the margins to enhance the content," Farren read dully and quickly the blurb on the book before look up at Pyx, "We have to get this for Grandfather. He's requested I obtain this as his reason for allowing me to attend."

She was very serious about the book and her reasoning behind it but didn't linger on the topic and began flipping through the pages of the booklet again, "Apart from that, I've always fancied some jewelry with an ulterior purpose," she mused with a smirk tugging at her lips. Skimming the pages of jewelry she focused on a necklace, a sapphire necklace. "This is interesting, this necklace captures and transfers opinions and feelings. So if the wearer feels strongly about something and then puts the necklace on someone else the necklace is hexed I suppose to infect the new wearer with the owners opinion. It works to a lesser effectiveness by having the subject so much as touch or brush against the stone."

With a bit of a shrug she closed the catalog and looked up at her cousin. "What about you? Anything you can't live without on the list here?" Farren moved out of the path of a pair of ladies that were bustling past giggling amongst eachother and took care to step into an alcove out of the main line of foot traffic. The lovely space seemed like it was worth exploring not just to view the items but to see the unique decor. "Is there a map in this pamphlet?" she asked seriously after a moment, "A map to the champagne?"

The Hartridge heir glanced at his younger cousin with a smirk on his handsome features. Of course he knew that Farren was not in the position to carry the rings herself. He was not a complete idiot. However, this was their first time attending a formal function together, and indeed his first without the rest of his family since Azkaban, and so he reasoned, it was not surprising that she worried he may have forgotten certain social niceties that came with escorting a lady. Therefore, rather than responding with haughty anger, he felt gratitude for the thoughtfulness behind the twenty one year old’s query. “But of course… I shall keep them safely hidden until you are ready to use them”. Pyxis declared smoothly before placing them into the front pocket of his shirt, with a charm in place to ensure their location wasn’t obvious. The former Deatheater then offered Farren a charming smile, which he hoped would convey the thanks he felt for her assistance.

When the heiress made reference to item BNF11 Pyxis quickly flicked his catalogue to page fourteen and skimmed through the description of the item in question. “If that is what your grandfather has requested then it will be ours by the end of the night” the former Deatheater professed in a confident tone. There wasn’t the slightest hint of questioning behind his words. Pyxis was as serious as Farren about fulfilling her grandfather’s request. The name of the book suddenly brought to mind a memory from his late teens. The pureblood heir had been in the middle of his seventh year at Hogwarts when he read the standard version of Magick Moste Evile for the first time. Naturally, he had been at home for Christmas break during said reading.  It was certainly one of the darkest tomes available and hinted at even darker arts still. “I wonder if it’ll contain further information on some topics the standard text was rather vague about”. He mused in a whisper, which was only loud enough for Farren to hear. Pyxis was not quite sure if the younger Abercrombie understood the reference, but either way they would not be discussing it until later. While he was not an expert on the subject, Pyxis knew enough to realise Horcruxes were not a topic one discussed publicly. Not even at a gathering that was exclusive to dark witches and wizards.

The pureblood listened attentively as Farren proceeded to show him a necklace that had caught her eye and explained its magical properties. Pyxis’ countenance grew contemplative as he pondered on the different ways one could use such an item to their advantage. He imagined it had a rich history of influencing the political opinions of its original owner’s foes. Indeed, there was even a footnote on how a witch had used it to influence a muggle monarch prior to the implementation of the stature of secrecy.  “Very wise choice” he complimented before his gaze quickly shifted to the illustration of it in the catalogue. “It will also bring out the colour of your eyes” he commented in a softer tone before pursuing the jewellery page some more. Pyxis decided that he would purchase the necklace for Farren, along with a bracelet that could be used to store a treasured memory. Both items would be his way of thanking her for accepting his invitation to the Bazaar. He also hoped that the gesture would help to ease the tension that had been between them since the night of her birthday.

A hearty chuckle escaped the former Deatheater when Farren inquired about a map to the champagne. Although he assumed the heiress was joking he was amused to note the sudden arrival of several waiters in the area. Was it a coincidence? Or had the organisers used some sort of spell to ensure such requests for sustenance were quickly met. Either way Pyxis was not at all shy about summoning the waiter to them, so he could retrieve a glass of the offered champagne for each of them. He allowed Farren time to collect any appetisers that may have caught her attention before dismissing the help from their presence once more. “The nearest section is the one focused on cursed weapons if you wouldn’t mind briefly indulging me? The auction for your grandfather’s book isn’t for another thirty minutes”. Once he received her assent the Hartridge heir guided Farren to the exhibits in question.

When they finally arrived the twenty nine year olds gaze was instantly drawn to a sword that was clearly set up as one of the stand out pieces.  The silver sword itself was in pristine condition and had a gold hilt embedded with Emeralds. The former Deatheater quickly pursued the catalogue in search of information. “How fascinating, its goblin made” although that part was probably obvious to Farren. Their weaponry had a rather distinctive look to it. “And it has been imbued with phoenix tears. A rather frustrating weapon in a fight to the death as it instantly heals the damage it inflicts”. In spite of his joke Pyxis did not see the weapon as useless. It was obvious why such an item was for sale at a dark wizard’s auction. It was a rather potent tool for extracting information from an enemy. After all, it provided a way of torturing ones victim without having to worry about the damage inflicted killing them. However, he opted against remarking on this aloud. There were simply some things a man didn’t say to a lady, especially when they were out in public.

After several long moments his gaze finally moved away from the sword and returned to the beautiful lady stood beside you. “And how about you Cousin Farren? Has anything in this collection caught your eye?” Pyxis was genuinely interested in hearing her answer. Firstly, the heiress had a way of surprising him, and secondly, it may give him some needed insight into the woman he may one day wed. 

Perfectly timed a waiter toting a tray of bubbly appeared in their area, Pyxis waved them over before she could so much as lift a finger in their direction. Whether it was pure chance that the waiters turned up or some enchantment the effect of it made her feel rather lucky, perhaps by design. Being a lady she took only a glass of champagne, it was awkward and messy to carry food in your hand while standing at a party. From the corner of her eye she glanced at her cousin a bit of a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Of course we can go look at the weapons if you'd like," she said simply now satiated with her champagne.

The young woman followed her cousin's lead staying near to his side as the pair of tall, well tailored, dark haired wizards made their way through the unusual corridors to the weaponry room. It looked like a room in a museum, a small one, but a stock pile of historic weapons that were too valuable to face the clashes of war. She didn't bother looking at her catalog, weaponry didn't much interest her but she didn't mind looking at it for a bit as art pieces. Considering the sword Pyxis pointed out to her she nodded in acknowledgement and rolled her eyes in good spirit at his weak joke, a small laugh sputtering from her lips. "Sounds like a serious design flaw if you ask me," she snarked back.

Considering the offerings before them Farren shrugged a bit at his question and took a quick sip of her champagne before responding. The room was empty enough that they could speak fairly freely in soft tones and be unnoticed, at least that was to their advantage if they wanted to tag team on some items. "I don't prefer weaponry. Honestly I find it all too muggle like for my personal taste. Obviously there is merit to such pieces as this but it's not particularly practical is it?" she moved along the table a few feet onto a selection of daggers laid out on velvet trays. "That said, I do have a sgian-dubh. We give them on the 12th birthday in our family. One of the few remaining traditions carried down from Scotland." she paused feeling a hint of awkwardness that though he was an Abercrombie he'd been excluded from the tradition of being presented a sgian-dubh as a child because his line was no longer part of the line of direct succession. Looking at the trays noting there was no sgian-dubh for sale here she wondered for a moment if maybe she should buy him one as a gift, though why she didn't know. "Mine is hardly worthy of being a magical artifact though. Before giving it to me mum did place a few enchantments on it to help me but nothing so impressive as phoenix tears." She smiled a little wondering if he was now wondering if she'd had a knife concealed on her person that day she came from seeking the unicorn. Naturally she did.

After a few more moments mulling the table Farren nodded towards the door, "We must be on our way, I'll need to look at the book before the bidding begins." Walking in stride with her cousin she moved swiftly through the peculiar halls of the residence to the room where the books were on display. A small crows loitered around the stands where they were perched in the center of the room. Arranged in a circular form the podiums each held one book, between each podium a docent with white gloves to handle the tomes.

Farren saw several people crowding around one book and immediately worried they were at her book. She glanced at Pyxis anxiously and leaned closer to him as the moved into the room. "Grandfather told me some very specific markers to look for in the book. Once we find it I'll need to identify it before we start bidding."

She started circling the space looking for the marker with their number on it. Once she spotted their mark she jerked her head towards the perch the book sat on, an old codger was looking over it, the gloved attendant holding to book so he could view the spine. Farren glanced anxiously at Pyxis but stood back waiting her turn. As soon as the old man started to move aside Farren swooped in motioning for Pyxis to come in to look with her.

"May I please see page 37?" she asked of the attendant cooly. The white gloves carefully turned the books fragile yellowed pages to a hand written page with several drawings in the margins. Nothing looked particularly spectacular about the page. "And page 219 please?" she asked trying to keep the edge out of her voice. Again the book's pages were gently turned as directed. Another handwritten page, a potion it looked like, half the ink appeared to be smeared on the bottom half of the page. Leaning close to the book Farren stared at the page for several seconds.  Without moving, her face centimeters from the pages she gave a final instruction, "Slowly close the book please." The attendant looked down at her waiting for her to move when she didn't he looked back up at Pyxis as if to silently ask if he wanted to move his date's face away from the merchandise so her nose didn't get clipped in it. Not caring that much what the loons were up to he did as he was instructed and closed the book, the air of the falling pages and covers rushed over Farren's face as she listened for a hint of what she suspected might be there. A faint, low, moaning wail seemed to echo from the pages as the book was closed. Just as she'd suspected.

Standing upright she turned back to Pyxis and shrugged intentionally looking disappointed. She sighed visibly shook her head slightly indicating to him that it wasn't the book she wanted. For a moment she paused to look at the book on the next podium, almost ignoring Pyxis as she examined the next two books in the line and checked her pamphlet in an almost studious manner. With a resigned look of disappointment she turned back to her cousin and sidled up to him close to his side. Without a word she moved to the far wall.

He followed her no doubt confused about this situation which seemed to have taken a negative turn. Out of earshot of anyone but still well in earshot of the auction Farren leaned into her cousin. Her hand on his shoulder so she could lean in and speak to him without her mouth being visible to anyone who might be watching, her face obscured by his as she spoke, "We have to get that book. Not only is it the one Grandfather wants it's more valuable than he even imagined. It's still bearing the original curses embedded in the original text. I had to play disinterested to try and minimize interest in it. An Abercrombie at a book auction, anyone with the wits of a house elf would know whatever I'm interested in is far more than they think it is."

She paused for a moment pulling away from him enough to look at him for a moment, considering her options carefully. "Can't you....shield your mind from all these people?" Farren whispered as a small throng of people came into the room and headed for the podiums. "You should bid on it then so no one will know you're even bidding on it. I can stand in front of you, blocking your hands and looking bored and what not. What do you think? A little passive diversion?"




//////......<<<<kat groans, dies, goes back to watching victoria<<<<<<///////

Pyxis smirked as he noted Farren’s quip about the design of the sword. Had it come from most people he may have taken her comment at face value and seen it as a sign of low intelligence. However, he had seen enough displays of the twenty one year old’s shrewd nature to realise Farren was anything, but the ditzy heiress she portrayed to the press. Instead he simply nodded his head as a subtle sign of approval before happily moving on with their conversation. “I would have to agree with your viewpoint on the use of weaponry especially the ostentatious items on display here. A dagger on your person may be of use in an emergency, but beyond that a true witch or wizard would be best sticking with their wand. It is easier to carry than a sword and a more dexterous weapon. Besides, could you imagine the scandal if either of us were to begin walking around with a sword on our side?” He grinned handsomely at his joke as he imagined the Daily Prophet headlines that action would generate.

The twenty nine year olds countenance suddenly shifted into the neutral aristocratic mask he preferred to don in public. Farren’s remark on the sgian-dubh had ignited emotions the Hartridge heir preferred to hide from his companion and those around them. Pyxis’ disownment from the Abercrombie line of succession had long been a point of discontent. He could still remember feeling lost when his grandfather informed him of the change when he was ten. It wasn’t that he had ambitions to become the head of the Abercrombie line one day, even if he had been in the line of succession his place would have been low enough to make such a claim practically moot, it was the meaning behind the disownment he struggled with. In Pyxis’ mind it was the worst thing that could happen to a wizard of breeding. To become disowned marked one as being in a state of disgrace. It signified that he and his forbearers were reckless, irresponsible, and ultimately unworthy.  While Pyxis had learnt to accept that his disownment would never be reversed it had long dictated his actions. It was the urge to prove himself as a wizard worthy of being reinstated that had driven him to receive top grades at Hogwarts; it was a desire to prove he held the conviction his grandfather lacked that led to him eagerly joining the Deatheaters. These days, he wasn’t fuelled by a desire to prove himself worthy of reinstatement, but rather he was driven by the care he felt for his family and his concern for its future. These were troubled times and Pyxis was going to do whatever it took to help ensure that the Abercrombie line continued to flourish. However, in spite of this acceptance, it was an old wound that would never truly go away.

The Hartridge heir had become so lost in his musings that he missed Farren’s remarks on the charms Victoria had placed on the sgian-dubh. It was only when the heiress spoke of their need to go and examine the book their patriarch sought that Pyxis became alert once more. Since he had no desire to buy any of the weapons displayed, the twenty nine year old nodded before the Abercrombie duo departed in brisk movements.

When they arrived at the section containing the volumes that were to be auctioned off the Hartridge heir maintained his aristocrat mask from before. He even went as far as to sneer contemptuously at some of the items on display, in spite of the interest several tomes invoked. It would not do for him to be seen as too interested in any of them. That would only make others wonder why he considered it important and ultimately increase the overall price people were willing to bid. After all, the Abercrombie’s were known for possessing the largest library in Europe. If they were interested in a tome then it must be extremely rare and valuable. When Farren glanced at him anxiously the former Deatheater felt the oddest urge to offer her words of comfort and an assurance they would not fail in their endeavour. However, he resisted lest someone overhear and realise that this edition was sought by the Abercrombie patriarch himself. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone” he advised in a low whisper while they waited for the old codger to finish his examination of the original edition of Magick Most Evile. While Pyxis considered himself to be a world class Occlumens Farren lacked such defences. Therefore, the heiress best defence was refraining from making the eye contact that was required for a legiliemeny attack to succeed.

The twenty nine year old watched with an impassive expression as Farren began to examine the book. Since Pyxis had not been privy to the markers Spencer had advised her to watch for, he had no way of knowing whether Farren found what she was looking for. Although he understood her work was important the Hartridge heir’s demeanour depicted himself as someone who was bored and not expecting to find much. Pyxis hoped that if he was seen as dismissive of Farren’s examination then others would be inclined to do the same. The pureblood heir nodded his head in subtle approval when the docent looked to him as if to ask should he follow her instructions. There were still members of the older generations who instinctively saw the male as being in charge of the situation and turned to them when the female appeared to be acting in an odd manner.

It was not long before the two were sequestered at the side of the room and Farren was sharing her findings before making a request that he use Occlumency to trick any Legilimens that may be watching them. He leant in to whisper “since we entered the room I’ve been using my Occlumency to fool those around us. As far as the three Legilimens here are concerned this trip is a random whim. If they try to attack me again they will be led to believe that you wish to bid for an extra copy of the book for convenience”. The words were spoken in a low whisper, his face was covered by Farren’s so that no one could lip read what was said. When he moved back he made eye contact with a man who had been watching the dark wizard duo. He had to be in his fifties with black hair that was turning grey and an impeccably designed tailored suit. He was one of the three Legilimens Pyxis had mentioned to Farren. The older wizard walked off to look at another tome clearly satisfied that the edition was of little interest to him.

Pyxis held out a hand for Farren to take before declaring in a louder tone “Of course we can bid on it, but I really don’t see why you can’t just make use of one of the editions held in the library”. The comment was dismissive tone as he eyed Farren with a seemingly indulgent countenance. The Hartridge heir was aware of the fact that had he genuinely treated her in such a manner they would be exchanging stern words at the night. However, since it was a part of a ploy to get Spencer’s desired tome he hoped she would forgive his condescending behaviour.

With their hands linked the Hartridge heir led Farren to the side hall were the books would be auctioned. Pyxis guided Farren to a seat in the centre of the very back row of the room. This would allow the pair to observe the actions of everyone else in the room, while making it much more difficult for others to monitor their behaviour in a similar manner. It did not take long for the auction to begin and the sound of wands hitting against the golden disks to fill the room. It was when they announced the fifth item that Pyxis whispered to Farren “this is it! We must get it!” Of course it was no such thing. His interest in the item in question was simply a ruse to lull the witches and wizards in their row into letting their guard down when the true prize came on display. Pyxis made a point of putting on a show for them before the auctioneer ultimately announced. “And the winner of item 5 is Mr. Pyxis Hartridge Abercrombie”.

The auctioning off of books continued for some time before the moment the Abercrombie duo had been anticipating arrived. “Item 20 is a hand copy of the original draft of Godelot's Magick Moste Evile, circa 900AD. It contains additional illustrations and notes on the margins” It was then the key moment of their night begun. The Hartridge heir reached over to give Farren’s hand a gentle squeeze to subtly reassure her before bidding began. The Hartridge heir publicly made several bids before a soft exasperated sigh escaped him. He briefly glanced at Farren. It was time for him to ‘drop out’ and their deception to begin.

((Oh God that was awful... -runs away and joins you in watching Victoria))

Farren had to admit, she was a bit impressed that Pyxis was so willing to engage in a bit of a game with the books. They could probably fairly easily outbid anyone in the room but where was the fun in that? She stayed close to her cousin, the two dark statuesque figures in the corner whispering to each other. The plan to win the book was simple, it was almost juvenile in some sense which pleased the younger witch immensely. Nearly all of her brief adult life was spent doing things no ordinary 21 year old should have to do. It was a life of ritual and cultural customs and while she didn't mind it in the least and would not want a typical 21 year old lifestyle, there was no denying that under the stern, cold exterior she was still in someways a very young adult.

His hand enveloped hers in a firm, assuring grasp and he led her towards the auction space. Luckily his almost scolding condesention was part of the game and she ignored them for the time being though out of the corner of her eye she shot him a sideways glance that could easily be taken to mean either 'you're relishing this a bit much' or 'how dare you speak to me like that'. Maybe it was a little of both. In their seats in the back of the room they were afforded a wide view of the other to be bidders and observers. Though Ren was only half concentrating on the room. As someone who was not trained in legilimens and occlumency she knew her mind was open were she to be in direct visual contact with a legilimens. They were far away enough from everyone that only a highly skilled or natural born legilimens would be able to intercept her train of thought but none the less it was her part of the game to an extent.

Pyxis' dramatic whisper over the interest in the decoy book snapped her back into the room and she looked up surveying the room thoughtfully before flipping over her catalog to even see what the book was. Farren clucked her tongue at Pyxis, "Hurry up get out the disk!" she whispered loudly, commanding him to act hastily upon their decoy book, the mild sting behind her tone may well have been a jab back to his earlier play in the game. Sitting a bit forward as if she were truly interested in this she looked about the room at the witches and wizards tapping their disks as the auctioneer called the bids higher and higher. 

Beside her the dramatic flare of her cousin was not letting down and when he was announced as the winner Farren played as if she could hardly contain her excitement. "Yes!" she said a bit too loudly to be under her breath. With a smug look of triumph she reached over and gave Pyxis' hand a victorious pat as if to say well done. Now they just had to wait for their actual prize. Discretely she slid her wand from the pocket specifically constructed for it in the seam of her gown. The petite wand and gold disk lay on her lap. Farren laid the catalog out on her lap, smoothing the crisp parchment flat over her silk skirt so that they could both see the list of books and count down the volumes to theirs.

Magick Most Evile was announced and Farren bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from becoming too tense. The soft touch from Pyxis which seemed to be perhaps the only genuine action of the whole charade took her by surprise but it did put her at ease a bit. Sitting back in her chair she stared ahead and tried to focus on who else was bidding. In the unlikely event they lost the bid it would be good to know whom they'd have to rob after this. Bidding began and there seemed to be several active bidders in addition to Pyxis.

The sigh was her signal of course and she slythered into action. She softly 'hummphed' at Pyxis and nodded, "Are you really quitting?," she conceded as he bowed out, "very well then." It was of course a ruse. Her slender right hand slid under the catalog resting in her lap and she took her wand in her hand. "I do want some champagne," she whined at him - a distraction from the fact that her wand was silently touching the gold bidding disk on her lap so she could bid in secret on the book. Farren did her best to appear only mildly interested in the auction. The bidding was moving quickly, the number of bidders was dropping. It appeared that in addition to herself only two other people were bidding. Luckily the people to her left were not bidding at all and she knew that with Pyxis to her right she was going to win the auction.

"Sold!" the auctoneer slammed his gavel on the podium and Farren turned to Pyxis with a coy grin on her face. "Sold to disk number 79 that belongs to..." the auctoneer was reading off his log that magically populated with the disk bids, "Miss Farren Victoria Abercrombie!" The book was quickly removed from the display by a white gloved attendant and moved out of the room to be packed and prepared for her pick up and payment at the exchange desk before she left.

Farren knew it wasn't an achievement of any real consequence. Should they have lost the auction it would not have been difficult for them to pay off the winner or if need be procure the book by force. Yet it felt good to win and play along with a little game of deception. These moments of true levity were few and far between in the heiresses life. "Excellent work Mr. Hartridge," she said beaming. Without hesitation she reached out and took his left hand in her right, "We will celebrate with champagne and a jewelry auction." Rising from her seat, cousin in tow, she nearly trotted out of the room and into the elegant, busy corridor.