be careful what you wish for [Deirdre]

Although just a girl, Deirdre did not avert her gaze. She observed the man in front of her, wondering who he was. It was odd how a random acquaintance had become of interest – at least to some degree. The girl was quite certain that she wouldn't think about this encounter for very long.

She nodded as the wizard spoke of the loss that Kevan Taite's death meant to the literary world. While she hadn't read anything by the author herself she was pretty sure that he had had some impact. She'd certainly try to find a book of him now if only to figure out why his death meant a loss to the literary world.

Then again the wizard said that he had suggested Kevan Taite's work because of the long acquaintance he had enjoyed. This was not exactly praise for the man's work or was it? Deirdre kept a neutral expression as she thought about this.

“Yeah, seems like it,” she confirmed that he and her mother seemed to have something in common, still wondering if he was also acquainted with her mother.

“Oh,” Deirdre was astonished to hear that the man offered her spare copies of Kevan Taite's work. "Thank you." It was one of the rare moments that Deirdre's feelings were clearly visible on her face. What did it mean that he had spare copies? Did he have more than one copy of each work or did he want to get rid of the books because they were not that great, after all?

The Slytherin hesitated. She wanted the books, if only to find out if they were any good or not. However, telling a stranger her name felt wrong. She knew nothing whatsoever about the man who could be either a mass murderer or someone who betrayed her to the school staff and might get her expelled so briefly before her graduation.

“Yes, I think it might be best if you sent them to your daughter,” Deirdre agreed. “That's inconspicuous. I'll approach her then. What's her name again?” She tried to suggest that he had already mentioned his daughter's name and hoped that she'd get through with this.

The flicker of surprise and - was it pleasure - was there and gone within the span of an instant, but Dermod saw it anyway. He was glad that someone still wanted to read his works, and thought he might 'accidentally' arrange for a signed copy of something to be in the package he planned to send. As to where he was going to send it, however...

Had the girl immediately agreed and given her name, the Irishman would have been disappointed. He was enjoying the verbal sparring and would have been sorry if she had made this too easy for him. Granted, it meant bringing his daughter into the equation, but Dermod considered she would be capable of holding her own against another student, even one several years older. Besides, he would enclose a letter for her, explaining what had taken place and advising her that if she didn't wish to speak with the older girl that it would be her decision. Actually, knowing which house they all belonged to, he should probably add an extra caveat that if, for any reason, they two girls held any kind of grudge against each other he would not scold his daughter if she chose to hex the books in any way before handing them over. It would be a shame, but he trusted the child's judgement.

"Very well. I also think that would be the best choice" he nodded "As you know, she is in your house. Her name is Rhiannon. Rhiannon Morfessa. She is shorter than you, with dark hair..." he felt offering a vague description would cause no issue; he was doing this girl a favour so felt confident she would be pleasant to his daughter. Besides, if she didn't recognise the girl's name, she needed to have some idea of who to look out for.

He should take his leave now; the writer decided. It would amuse him to select two of three of his works ready to send; even if this girl would never know that he was the previously celebrated author. But before he did, it occurred to him that he may have neglected his manners somewhat earlier, and he decided to rectify the situation now. "It has been a pleasure speaking with you. Miss...my dear" he said smoothly, the endearment sounding nothing more than a suitable replacement for the name he still didn't know "and I am please to be able to offer a suitable recompense for returning my wallet. I shall send the books tomorrow. I hope you will enjoy them" With a smile and another nod, he turned and walked swifting down the street, intending to slip down the alleyway next to the Hogs head and apparate home from there.

[Dermod out]

The man agreed with her that it might be best to send the books to his daughter. Deirdre wondered why he would think so – after all, if discovered, this might get his own daughter into trouble. Was this some sort of trap? Some sort of weird scheme? She kept her expression neutral but her thoughts were far from indifferent.

Rhiannon Morfessa. Deirdre vaguely knew the younger girl, having seen her around in the common room, library and the Great Hall countless times. However, the girl wasn't sure she had ever said more than maybe a hello to the other student. They both seemed to have different circles of friends which could be blamed on the age gap. Right now the girl was suddenly of much more interest. Deirdre felt that she might learn more about the wizard she was talking to if she found out something more about his daughter. She surely was an easier target than this man.

Deirdre found it amusing that he described his daughter. It felt odd that he did. As if she couldn't find Rhiannon Morfessa or any fellow Slytherin without a description. She didn't comment though, focusing on keeping a neutral expression and just listening in the hopes to get some additional information.

However, he gave her nothing more to work with as he told her it had been a pleasure to meet her and seemed suddenly rather eager to get away. Deirdre suspected that, maybe, he didn't want his daughter to see him around, after all. He called her 'my dear' and it felt very odd. Nobody had ever called her that, or at least Deirdre couldn't recall it at the moment.

“It's been a pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Morfessa,” she looked at him intensely, wondering if Rhiannon shared his surname or if his name was a different one. “Thank you, so much for your generosity,” she added. Before she could add much else he already turned around and left. For a moment she still watched him. Then she turned around as well and walked down the street towards the shop she had initially come to visit.

[end]