Knocking is easier. (Open to all)

[Cindra Rourke]

Cindra had to have a change of scenery. For some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t focus sitting in her office. The same sentence had been scratched through time and time again. She wanted to reorganize the pacing for this term, but she just kept getting stuck. The truth of the matter was she found her thoughts roaming in the cold silence of the room and every time she started to get an idea of how to lay it out, she found her attention wandering again. Reminiscing was alright, but not when it got in the way of work.

The soles of her shoes made a clicking sound against the flagstones and echoed off the corridor walls as she made her way from the first floor down a level to the staff room. In her left arm was tucked the text she was using for reference, between it’s pages the crumpled, offending parchment on which her curriculum notes were drawn and redrawn. Out of habit, her teaching robes were on, but left open. It was still rather warm out and being outside of the classroom she could allow herself the small concession. There was still time for her to get what she had sought to accomplish done, dinner wasn’t for a few hours, though she dryly noted, with a crooked grin, that lunch had slipped past her.

Preoccupied indeed, she thought as she opened the door and entered the Staff Room. The sight wasn’t what she had expected. Instead of finding a place to work that would have some greatly needed background noise, she found only a different set of walls encasing the same silence. Figures that when she actually wanted her colleagues around, they wouldn’t be.

“Oh, well,” she said to herself, crossing the room to set her book down, her quill and ink shortly following from within her robes before spotting the kettle on the counter. With her load lightened, she filled the kettle, brought it to a boil with a quick flick of her wand, and plopped a few tea bags in to steep. Thinking of her missed lunch made her realize how empty her stomach was.

With the tea brewing, she pulled off her robes, draped them over the back of a chair and sat down. Opening the book and crinkling up her nose at the stricken sentence a quarter of the way down, she turned her attention back to the text, quill in hand. At first, she was getting somewhere. Ten minutes and she had finally become engrossed in her planning, her words flowing faster in her mind than she could write them down. A smile had just spread on her face as she flipped the parchment over, the tea now forgotten, and prepared to continue on the back.

And just as her freshly ink filled quill touched the surface of the parchment, the door opened with a loud bang and she jumped. Her left hand, that had been fingering the pages of the book, shot forward, knocking against her ink well as her quill scratched clear across the paper and several inches of the table beyond, a pool of black ink forming where it finally came to a stop.

Cindra groaned, dropped the quill on the table with a flourish, and in a clipped tone, spoke before even looking up at who had entered. “Was that entirely necessary?”

[Pantera Tsua]

“Yes.”
That was the short answer, though… it would hardly please any adult to know, especially if they took note of the horribly condescending tone in which it had been ushered. It had been a close call and Pantera absently knew he wouldn’t be able to catch the woman’s attention for long enough if he didn’t apply some attitude to it; the respect a teacher must be given was something often stressed by the authorities and parents, partially because Hogwarts was prestigious and partially because a lot of the people here were… questionable at best.

One would understand better, were they privy to the old stories and myths surrounding the place.

No matter though, Pantera mused with a half smirk tugging at his blackened lips, he lowered the foot he’d used to kick the door open brashly and twitched his head to the side, leaning back a little as a young impressionable Slytherin boy hurried along the corridor with Pantera’s newest item for sale. Course… it wouldn’t help anyone if this woman was going to sick her nose in; Pantera would make sure the boy got punished for throwing himself into the door like a frightened rabbit when that damned animal snapped at him. Really now, was growing a spine optional these days? It certainly seemed like it, even the teachers seemed to stand by the use of their wand alone, rather then that slightly curved bit bone.

That boy was lucky that the staff room was near-empty, come to think of it.

Pantera relaxed a little and let his slender hands slide down the frame of the doorway, where he’d lent them casually but purposefully at the same time as the boy – who Pantera had pretty much thrown across the hall, after the male had banged into the door before Pan placed his foot in the air, just in time to make it seem like he’d kicked it open- had made his escape.

He’d pretend he was here for… detention or something. Though it would be curious that he’d come of his own accord, rather then being forced at wand-point. The loose buckles and other odd bits of metal strewn across the male’s black shirt sang sweetly as he stepped in, appearing amused despite his complex thoughts, walking in like he owned the place – as was his way. “Did I scare you?” He asked, parting the seam of his lips into an ivory grin. He didn’t bow in an apology, or excuse himself, no, Pantera managed to look quite pleased with himself and indicated toward the ink with a tip of his head, sending his darkest black tresses in the same direction for a brief quiver, before they bounced back into their messy unevenly cut style.

“You’re certainly jumpy… Not doing something you shouldn’t be, are you?” Pantera quirked a brow at the woman, and narrowed his dark slanted visionaries, suddenly aware that he didn’t know who the woman was. Well, he gathered that she was a teacher from the robes strewn inelegantly across a chair… but she was no one he’d come across before.

This would make things difficult, not because of the earlier incident; because as far as Pan was concerned, he’d gotten away with that… but because he didn’t know the woman’s limits. He didn’t know her temperament; what he could do, say or even pretend to know. Generally this meant he could get into an awful load of bother rather quickly. Some of Pan’s outward amusement waned and was replaced with mild curiosity as his mind chased these suggestions.

He may have only been a sixth year student, but he didn’t act like it and so, the tall male lent a palm on the table the woman was sat at and simply looked at her for a long moment, trying to place her face to rumours, facts and the knowledge he had of family lineages.

”What do you teach?” He asked eventually, choosing the question connected to the best means of finding out why he didn’t recognise her, if in fact she wasn’t just a new lamb to the slaughter.

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[Cindra Rourke]

“Yes.”

Turning her gaze to the door as footsteps beyond it faded down the corridor, Cindra was at first surprised to find not a colleague but a student gracing the frame, before becoming mildly intrigued. The boy had cheek; not only was he perfectly at ease answering a professor’s question in that condescending tone, but to also stand there without any noticeable intention of leaving. It was the type of student that would readily apologize and put as much distance between them and a teacher that she easily disregarded. He, however, had gained her attention.

As far as her experience went, there were three types of people. First, there were those who tucked tail and ran, the ones who dared not cross any lines and never wronged intentionally for they were too meek and mild to do so. She hardly gave them a second thought, they were hardly threatening. Then there were the quiet ones, the ones those outwardly appearance of sweet complacency was a mask for the shadows lurking beneath. Her father and former Master fell into this category.

She was comfortable with this type, she understood them and had grown accustomed to walking the fine lines they weaved around their existence, mindful of tripping and seeing the seams of their mask loosen. The half truths they fed were by far safer than the whole truths, so although it would be no secret to discover the reasons behind their misguiding smiles, she wouldn’t pry and act as though she was none the wiser. Her own warm smile hid her awareness.

Before her stood the third type, her instincts cried. The distracters, those whose attitude and actions were just antagonizing enough as to draw attention away from the disturbing truth. There was a thrill, of sorts, they got from their little game, often at the expense of others; a lesson quickly learned when she attended Hogwarts. Though never one to have been caught in their crossfire, her friends had because they hadn’t learned from observation. It was almost a game in itself, treading around them without being pulled under, but it was possible, if one took the time to watch, listen, and learn. Boundaries with them easily fluctuated and one had to be flexible as well as not to extend past them.

She wouldn’t be reprimanding him, she decided, leaning back against her seat, the mess forgotten. Later it could be turned to rights, right now she was going to see how this little game played out, for that was what this had become, and in the end she would better know how this student ticked. As they say, arming oneself could only be down through knowledge.

Her eyes followed him silently as he crossed the room and noted the inky mess, still clearly meaning to distract her and she willingly played along. Her arms rested lightly on the armrests, her hands dangling in towards her lap as she crossed her skirted legs, a brown leather, thin heeled boot sticking out from the long hem. The movement of the various metallic pieces on his person made a crisper, almost bell like tone compared to the muffled brush of her clothing. Everything he wore and every move he made was a part of the distraction he lived. All of which she was mentally processing and analyzing with her instincts.

“Did I scare you?”

She gave a grin in reply to his, it was hard not too. He was bold. Definitely not a Gryffindor, she immediately decided, they were brave, but not that cocky. No, this level of confidence in the face of the forbidden was reserved for only one house, Slytherin.

She didn’t reply yet, though, she’d wait until the compulsion to do so struck her. Instead ,she’d let him go on and observe him like a puzzle to be solved. Were he looking for a professor, for a detention or otherwise, the staff room wasn’t the first place one would look, not that he gave any indication of that being his purpose thus far.

“You’re certainly jumpy… Not doing something you shouldn’t be, are you?” Then he quirked an eyebrow at her, possibly finally aware of the fact she had been silently watching him this whole time and she gave a small chuckle. Rarely was confusion to be found in the expressions of his type, like some dark cardinal rule dictated that when unsure, one must look ‘intrigued’. It never failed to humor her.

Cindra lifted her right hand to gesture towards her things, her palm up and fingers relaxed, as one calmly batting away a fly. “We both know only a fool would be so... unguarded were they engaged in questionable activities.”

Her nonchalance gave away nothing as far as whether she was one to engage in said activities, for leaving much to their imagination was a good thing, but rather did point to her understanding his current actions were a cover. What for, she had no idea; something told her the footsteps she had heard pounding down the hall had a part in it, but at the same time, she wasn’t concerned, there were no screams accompanying them. Therefore, he was successful in distracting her as she was busy scrutinizing him.

“What do you teach?”


Ah, so the reason for his disguised puzzlement was her; who she was, and judging by the way he was evaluating her just as much as she was him, whether or not she was a whistle blower. Interesting. He was certainly more clever than she initially gave him credit for, a wise move indeed to evaluate a potential adversary. Wisdom she could respect.

Never shying from his gaze, Cindra gently entwined her fingers, her elbows balanced on the armrests of the chair in a comfortable position, neither threatening nor threatened. “Arithmancy,” she replied, waiting to gauge his reaction. It was a complex subject, both logical and interpretive, insightful and indiscriminant. It suited her well. She’d be curious to see what he assumed she taught, it would say much about his first impression of her.

“So tell me,” she began, curious to learn more about the young man, however indirectly, “Do many Slytherins still put little credence in the divining arts, or are some prudent enough to contemplate them?”

[Pantera Tsua]

The fact she didn’t answer straight away was a good sign; she was being careful, watching, waiting, perhaps for an opportune moment to comment on it, if indeed she wished to at all. There was no miniature explosion in her mind, no flicker of irritation, no twitching or restlessness… she was a stone figure, a predator. Good, she had some level of intelligence, he’d credit her that and the fact she kept his gaze boosted her overall mark. Not a predator… she was evaluating him, trying to figure his concept, from a distance of course.

Careful.

The sort that could typically sit anywhere, but chose to keep mostly to themselves, calculating and intelligent, though not especially ambitious – that isn’t to say they didn’t do their jobs well, though. Pantera had managed to catch Luck by its horns once again, those that were careful regarded only the trouble at hand… no matter what she’d heard or seen of the other boy – it didn’t matter now, he was gone and Pan felt it was safe to assume she wasn’t gluing conspiritous thoughts together about what he’d been doing. The best kind of person to manage in general terms… but that didn’t stray from the fact that they were sharp and observant, they took to puzzles like him quite automatically; which then meant he’d have to be careful about what he did and said. Balancing the truth with clever lies was a good way, as too much of either was suspicious and the male felt quite sure it was something the woman might pick up on… unless of course he wanted to lead her down a couple of dead-ends, that though, required him to have a better judge on her character and relied solely on whether he had her pegged under the right category.

This was going to be a good game.

”Well, we live in a world filled to the brim with fools, it wouldn’t be wild to assume you were one of them.” The male mused, letting one corner of his smile grow slightly before he parted the whole seam for a rich chuckle, seemingly completely at ease with her silent gauges. There was little to worry about really, at the cost of personality hints of his own, she’d loose a couple of her own too… which begged the question; what end was this game a means to?

”You see, fools are a virus…” The male began, closing his eyes for dramatic effect as he parted his black lips to continue and lifted a hand with a single finger raised, as if to illustrate his point. “ It passes from the parents mostly and is as much a fatal disease as it is an irritation to those of a well minded nature. It comes in various forms and packages and is attracted to the sorts that cower at punishment, whimper under stress and like how you… demonstrated, flinch at the very notion that they will, inevitably, be caught on far side of the rules.” The male paused and tipped his head toward the woman, scrutinizing her for a moment with an amused smirk fixed across his face as he seated himself on the corner of the table, sending an array of noise through all the metallic trinkets garbing his black – but still rather obtrusive outfit.
”Their actions are involuntary – of course… so, its not fair to separate you from the masses just yet, after all; no fool is a fool on purpose.”

Pantera drew his eyes across the table, taking in a couple of details before he returned his gaze to the woman in front of him, and lent back slightly. “So; In conclusion, either you’re a fool… or you’re trying too hard; at what… I’m afraid I can’t say.” He mused, trailing off at the end looking more amused then he’d been when he’d started.

’Arithmancy’

Oh, now that explained everything. Pantera laughed, he actually tipped his head back and laughed like he was watching all the life drain from the planet, he composed himself soon enough though and lifted a hand to the smile on his lips, covering it for a moment as he drew a slender finger across his bottom lip in what looked like thought, but it was hard to say.
”You sure don’t hide it, Mrs. Arithmancy.”

Not that he thought she should. There wasn’t anything wrong with being like that. Well, it wasn’t really an issue for him, anyway.

“Generally, it would depend on what ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy’ thinks. It’s safe to say the majority of Slytherin are ambitious cowards, who ride into rooms on their parent’s coattails. Very few have that salacious little bite we’re supposed to be known for.” The male almost scoffed at that, clearly displeased with the people he was associated with.

” It also depends on how much the information is worth; Wisdom has a steep price these days.”

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[Cindra Rourke]

”Well, we live in a world filled to the brim with fools, it wouldn’t be wild to assume you were one of them.”

Perhaps not wild, but certainly not wise either. If your actions were solely based on the assumption that it was likely a fool you had encountered, one day your number would be up and the ‘fool’ you came across would ensure you never made the same mistake again, or anything else for that matter. Stumbling upon the wrong sort with that attitude could very well be the last thing you did. Cindra imagined he had never experienced such a thing, yet, and she wondered, statistically, how much longer his luck would hold out. After all, it was Mychal that had once taught her that Muggle phrase, when you assume…

”You see, fools are a virus…”

So she was to be graced with a philosophical explanation. Considering how little young people thought now a days, let alone put forth the effort to express themselves in a logical manner, she found herself avidly listening as he continued. It didn’t take long for him to fall into his stride, even going so far as to plant himself on the table’s edge. It didn’t bother her, to be honest, in fact she was about to motion for him to take the seat across from her. Who knew how long this game would take and once the matter of personal comfort had been dealt with, play could continue unhindered.

“So; In conclusion, either you’re a fool… or you’re trying too hard; at what… I’m afraid I can’t say.”

So he was still assessing her. Good. Judgments were best made after careful scrutiny; a hasty decision and there could be consequences later on. Besides, she too was still solving the puzzle of him.

He was at ease, his eyes as intent on her as hers on him and, judging by the delivery of his words, honest in expressing his belief. Clearly not a Muggleborn. Too much of his rhetoric was flavored with pureblooded frailties he had to be at least a Halfblood. She leaned towards Halfblood, as she knew too well that Purebloods tended to conveniently overlook the unpleasant truths of their unavoidable inbreeding over the centuries. There were several families who she would agree ‘passed on the fool virus’, even dealt with a few, unfortunately. Perhaps he had as well? On second thought, she wouldn’t pass judgment on the blood status just yet.

His reaction to her subject, after the laughter of course, was a refreshing change. More than once she had been pegged as the astronomy type, for reasons she couldn’t fathom. Still, his reference to her as Mrs. Arithmancy didn’t go unnoticed, or much appreciated, but she pushed the urge to correct him aside. It served to give her another clue as to his interactions with authority figures. It was uncouth, but not to the point of blatant disrespect. Addressing professors in the proper manner was something she doubted he practiced. The rebellious type… that, or one out to prove his metal.

Cindra wondered which, exactly, he was. And why.

The more they conversed the more complex the puzzle became, and the more intriguing the turns of play.

“Generally, it would depend on what ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy’ thinks. It’s safe to say the majority of Slytherin are ambitious cowards, who ride into rooms on their parent’s coattails. Very few have that salacious little bite we’re supposed to be known for.”

He showed no reaction to her apparently correct deduction as to his house, and yet he didn’t appear too pleased with the distinction either. Cindra couldn’t contain the soft chuckle that filled her. Lifting a hand, she covered her mouth and muffled the sound behind smiling lips.

Once she had her moment of mirth, her hand tucked a lock of long ginger hair behind her ear before propping her chin in said hand, her thumb supporting the weight as her forefinger lightly pressed against her cheekbone. She usually struck the pose when enjoying a challenge, be it a good debate, a round of chess, or a game such as this.

“Perhaps some of their venom has been diluted over time,” she offered, thinking of her father and his nasty bite. Luan would have enjoyed this conversation immensely.

“It also depends on how much the information is worth; Wisdom has a steep price these days.”

He was a quick one, not that she was actively hiding her penchant for knowledge. If he was clever, which she had already decided he was, he was going to pick up on it sooner or later. One couldn’t play the game without sacrificing a few pawns.

Slowly, she grinned. His statement gave her a suspicion as to one of his possible activities, and if so, it would benefit her to be sure. “Indeed it does. However, as I recall, my inquiry has already been satisfied, which begs the question…” Pausing she let her grin deepen, the top row of her pearly whites peaking out. Feeling a little mischievous, for what was a game without risk, she pressed on. “What else could be gained… for the right price, of course?”

[Pantera Tsua]

Apparently, this woman didn’t mind that she was being rather obvious; Pantera couldn’t see why she would mind in actual fact, as these sorts of games weren’t often about secrecy, but her intent listening amused him all the same. Usually when ever he was addressing someone older then him, he’d be automatically looked down upon and his words were written off totally if not collectively gathered into some unintelligent retarded note-form. The young male could guarantee that he was more experienced in a host of…okay, questionable activities, as well as particularly dangerous transactions, then most of the staff were at Hogwarts. Pan didn’t claim to know everything, but he’d swept up the knowledge that was necessary thus far in the case of both his family and his business, which of course were two rather wide bases.

The woman didn’t react much to ‘Mrs.Arithmancy’ and Pan allowed himself to look amused, but this point usually he would have gotten a name, it was a rather low trick, but Pantera wasn’t against sliding down the moralistic scale to get things; he’d done it before and frankly, his mind had been quite unchanged by the whole experience – perhaps he was lucky, or perhaps he’d hadn’t had much of a moralistic outlook to begin with. Unfortunately this didn’t give a good insight into the female’s level of pride… she hadn’t corrected him, but then she was preoccupied, it wasn’t safe to assume either that she didn’t care, or had abandoned the correction in a bid to continue without loosing that vital piece of information.

There wasn’t much you couldn’t find out once you had a name.

Pantera tipped his head to the side, leaning back a little more as a couple of silver buckles and straps scraped across the table, swinging too and fro, making near enough noise to disturb the woman’s light chuckle. He watched her pin it back with a hand but didn’t react beyond that, remaining perfectly relaxed. She adjusted herself and propped her head in her palm and kept her gaze on him all the while. A smirk pulled itself across Pan’s blackened lips, but he didn’t say anything and instead closed his dark eyes, returning his head to its upright position.

She seemed to be enjoying herself.

“Venom?” Pantera scoffed quite derisively at the suggestion, upturning a brow at the female, as if he had to make sure she wasn’t joking. Oh, this would be fun to explain, the male mused with an airy laugh before he tipped his head and lifted a hand from the table slightly before he continued. “ Usually they sell their ‘Venom’ … in a bid to rule through influence; with money bribes, petty laws and even pettier words. If you’re looking for Venom then I’d suggest playing with some Death Eaters, Mrs. Arithmancy.” Pantera suggested as a finish. There still large powerful families that didn’t lord over their domain with money and the ‘close friends’ they could make within the Ministry, but they were in desperate minority and Pantera wouldn’t claim to know about them specifically… for reasons he also wouldn’t divulge.

That was a secret.

The male watched that grin pull across the female’s face, splitting the seam of her lips until he could see teeth, maybe she’d latch onto a lead, of some sort. Pantera tipped his head at her again, letting his vision cloud slightly with his unevenly cut, layered fringe as it swept across his eyes. Thinking back on what he’d said already… it was all very business like, as if he was trying to sell an animal for breeding and was then forced to divulge into its upbringing history and faults. Course, Pan hadn’t once referred to himself, though he allowed her to feed off his over-all outlook.

He wanted to know what she could come up with, having only that.

Pan lifted a hand and flicked his darkest black tresses away, sending chorus of noise through the room when the pieces of metal dangling from the end of his sleeve twitched and entwined together as he made these movements. He listened absently to her, letting his finger rest down the center of his lips as the ends curled upward into a smile of sorts at her finish.
It seemed she’d caught on to a little, but it wasn’t anything important… his little business wasn’t a secret; he served both Students and Teachers but he preferred that they was as little hassle as possible. As he’d found earlier this morning, the transportation of products was a distinct letdown… left to usually the more innocent first years who had come to understand that he could provide a steady well-paying job; The last thing Pantera wanted was to find, was that one of the more questionable items had been commandeered by some gormless nosey teacher… who just so happened to be suffering from some perverse sense of righteousness.

And it did happen, from time to time.

But all Pantera lost was one product; it wasn’t a big deal, depending on how he’d acquired it. Other problems arose too, but they were little more then momentary hiccups, Pantera had made his business damn-near indestructible, even if you traced it, there were so many backups and precautions that it would be impossible to eliminate. Even if you killed Pantera himself, or locked him up for a couple of months, the cash flowing into his multitude of bank accounts was endless.

He could thank ‘Daddy’ for this sort of prowess.

“In the words of a true businessman; anything the customer requires.” Pantera lashed out a near-primordial looking grin, and chuckled. “And that’s not a heavy quip.” He decided to point out after a slight pause as he lent forward and leant his arms across the leg he had bent across the table.

”Surely there’s not something you’re after, Mrs. Arithmancy?”

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[Cindra Rourke]

“Usually they sell their ‘Venom’ … in a bid to rule through influence; with money bribes, petty laws and even pettier words. If you’re looking for Venom then I’d suggest playing with some Death Eaters, Mrs. Arithmancy.”

Though her grin never faltered, in her mind she was laughing wildly. He was telling her nothing she didn’t already know. She had been raised by a Slytherin who surrounded himself with Slytherins, befriended Slytherins, even studied for six years under a Slytherin- she had no choice but to learn how to mingle amongst venomous reptiles. A raven may fly, but it did them little good if they relied solely on the ability to soar away when trouble reared its ugly head than to circle in silence and get the lay of the land before touching down.

Those who didn’t believe in this ‘venom trade’ were ignorant fools, and fools made excellent scape-goats. Surely, he knew that as well.


The young man was brash, bold, and self confident, yet he still had a few things to learn. Cindra would give him this at least, he was far more ahead in the greater game than his outward appearance would first dictate, let alone his age, but the ‘I-know-everything’ attitude of youth was still vibrant in him. No one could escape it entirely, even she thought she understood the complexities of life at his age, but as adulthood crept in so too did the realization of how truly blind her confidence had made her. One had to grow up to discover their elders honestly did know, and understand, more than they imagined.

Something about this interesting young man made her hope he would learn that without incident.

Her mind continued analyzing him, both in word and deed. While Slytherins certainly understood non-verbal communication better than most, many didn’t read into it as completely as she. It was natural for her, ‘instinct’ her father had once said, to note the turn of an eye, the tilt of a head; insecurities could manifest themselves in something as simple as the pause of a second, or lies with the swift blink of an eye. What she saw was complex but not for one use to delving for meaning where few tread. Arithmancy was much the same, discovering the extraordinary in the mundane.

He moved a lot. Almost as if the action of making all his metallic trinkets ring helped him; whether to concentrate, alleviate tension, or was just a developed habit, she couldn’t tell. But his need to move was there. So he wasn’t one to still the body in order to give the mind room to stretch. Cindra filed this away. The mind was a muscle, one that didn’t like to process complex calculations when it was being bothered to move limbs around for no apparent purpose other than distraction.

Which accounted for the fact that when passing notes and fidgeting with their things, students seldom ever heard a word spoken to them. Adults even forgot at times. A trick she employed with her father on numerous occasions.

In a way, Slytherins missed much.

She knew, however, that he was thinking, she could see it in his eyes, but at times the intensity of them shifted, very slightly, but it was there. Cindra sighed softly as a few of the pieces came together. The moving about, the closing of his eyes, the minute change in his gaze… his thoughts wandered at times. Our minds could better handle memories and recollections than solving an equation while worrying about our bodies simultaneously. Automatic replay took little effort.

Losing focus was a sign of youth, granted, but he had stumbled into an adult arena. If he did, indeed, engage in the sort of activity she suspected, it could very well indicate the possibly unrefined qualities of his methods. Not that the sort of things she was imagining him to be familiar with would require as advanced a level of sleek sophistication as she might require, but it did make her question the depth to which he might dive successfully.

“In the words of a true businessman; anything the customer requires. And that’s not a heavy quip.”

Bold words, even for a Slytherin. And lacking the usual soft silk cloak elder vipers employed in good, sensible taste. Didn’t everyone know snakes heard with the jaws and could sense the tiniest of pests long before they realize they had been discovered? Who but a Slytherin would know best that you keep friends close, and enemies closer. One could hear a lot in close proximity.

Either the kid was damn good, or walking a very tight rope.

”Surely there’s not something you’re after, Mrs. Arithmancy?”

Ah, so he wanted to play at that again. Test the waters and see if a button lay buried there beneath the surface. Definitely not practiced in subtlety. Had that particular art been lost?

Despite this, she was still amused. Who would have known she would discover such a promising competitor in so innocuous a situation. That day’s date didn’t enter into her calculations that morning. Pity, she would have looked forward to this.

Her chin still perched in her hand, she gave it a slight upward tilt, directing her gaze at him more directly, assenting to acknowledge him on more equal footing; he had earned enough of her respect to be given this much. Nevertheless, there was one thing he needed to realize, and soon. She wasn’t going to stoop down to meet him. There were rules to the game, perhaps left over from antiquity, but they were there, and even the most ruthless player heeded this one at least…

Unless sure that you hold all the pieces, show honor where due.

Once, she overlooked, no harm no foul, twice and boundaries had been pushed, thrice and he had stepped over the line.

A reprimand, a heated reaction, hell, even a curse, were probably the desired outcome, but again, he wouldn’t get it. No, those more familiar with high stakes games handled it differently; with the sweet taste of laced candy.

“We all are after something,” she began, her body still relaxed and comfortable. “Even fools who never truly realize what they are looking for. No one is void of wants, needs… to whatever purpose. We are, by nature, a passionate people with weaknesses,” she shrugged lightly. Oh, she imagined he’d laugh that off. Youthful ignorance. Even the most dangerous of wizards had their Achilles heel, be it their obsession with power or their belief in their own invulnerability.

“Some don’t know their own weakness until it’s too late. Others,” and she stressed the word with a sweet smile, “are more attuned to them and don’t risk capitulating to the dangers inherent in them hastily.”

A pause. Let him note she got his thinly veiled confirmation, and that she wasn’t going to just dive in, warning signals be damned. He may have pushed a few pawns into sight, but she had better pieces yet to play, if she even decided to engage in a game that intricate with him. Cindra’s mind was not made, but she wasn’t brushing him aside either. He had shown promise, and that was what kept her in this round.

“Anything, to one person, may have an entirely different meaning to another. Most fear approaching a sleeping dragon, some eagerly endeavor to put the beast asleep, even fewer succeed and live to tell the tale. Where do you fall, Mister…”

She left it in the air. He would fill in the end or not, names were a commodity after all, but either way he should note her extending the respect due mature players, and not the ill-bred scene most common among the less experienced. Either he would step up a level and show he could catch on quickly or she would rely on more tested sources.

Cindra would look before leaping, for opportunities weren’t always golden.

[Pantera Tsua]

The female adjusted her head slightly and offered him not only the attention of her eyes, but her features and over-all position as well, she had recognised that he was exceptional though and was willing to regard him on her level, despite his age and other off-putting details. Pantera wasn’t sure what to make of that, with acceptance came a certain amount of expectation and he felt that perhaps she was being too hasty in this, while it was true the stakes weren’t very high, he didn’t feel this decision was wise, especially if she based it on only what he’d said and done so far. It was precarious and he hadn’t really expected it, but then… the female has a certain way about her. She seemed so at-ease that it was somewhat uncanny, which hinted that she didn’t necessarily believe the chair she sat on was made of gold…
The only people that could regard his outward attitude so well, were namely people used to the rather haughty Slytherin temperament, whilst he was perhaps a little more obvious and bit brash then the majority he still fit quite easily into that character.

The woman didn’t strike him as a Slytherin, a Ravenclaw, perhaps with an unusual edge…Mayhap her parents were Slytherin… or her family consisted mainly of them. Pantera felt confident she spent a lot of time among their type and so her acceptance of him was peculiar, he didn’t dwell on it for long though, it was a small detail… enough so that he could note it down and go back to it later, if necessary.

Thinking about it in this sense… it wasn’t terribly surprising that she didn’t fall for his baiting and the male smirked with something akin to pleasure hidden within the dark seam of his lips, which wasn’t disturbed enough to spilt, but was pulled tightly across his fair, oddly feminine features. Disrespect was generally the only way Pantera could acquire the attention he needed to be efficient in his… hobbies. The people he often dealt with were the prudish types, who relied on their family history to incur that delicious quivering cold mist of fear in the back of ones mind. They either relied on that, or the inspiring histories that their employed lugs often carried round those and of course their money. They wouldn’t do much as look at him if he didn’t sully their name a little, he didn’t do it out of spite – he told them without fear exactly what they were under their black cloaks and dangerous masks. Of course… he sacrificed his own due respect in order to be seen, it was necessary, at least until he was a little older.

He wasn’t stupid, he was quite aware that he was walking on a pane of cracked glass… and that a lot of it would without a doubt haunt and hinder him in the future. People often misunderstood this part of him, just because he was confident, didn’t mean he was ignorant. Pantera held all those bad things very close to the front of his mind – absent preparation perhaps, even though he was aware no amount of such would help.

It was odd, but he didn’t ever fear it.

The dark male quirked a brow at the woman as she began speaking, giving him this instead of a bite, or a curse…These were the worst types of reactions, because when one wasn’t needlessly angry, or even irritated, they had the full capacity of their minds to throw at him. Whilst it wasn’t often a problem, it often led to certain revelations – things he didn’t like at all. Pantera didn’t smile until she finished, he didn’t laugh or make a sound but let a single light smile flutter across his lips. The male’s sharp slightly tipped visionaries regarded her for a long silent moment after she spoke and their hue darkened a little, but other parts of the colour sharpened and almost all of a sudden, the male’s eyes looked like they belonged to someone at least ten years older.

He didn’t say anything and let her continue with a slight tip of his head, keeping that slight smile, it was a suspicious thing at best, but he made no move to exploit its strangeness and just listened. He knew very well his own weaknesses, it wasn’t something he could rightly ignore without being eliminated in every dark little game he so ‘brashly’ entered, the woman was underestimating his understanding… but he hadn’t made much move to signify he had any on this particular subject – so… it was unfair to berate her for it. Pantera knew he was inexperienced, bother hindered by his age and his personality, he knew there were certain things he would willing become a blithering idiot for and he knew his way of doing things was precarious and would eventually be the end of him.

But who wanted to die of old age?

”And therein lies the game… To get what you’re after, without being eliminated. Passion and weakness a both a means of success and destruction; the foreseeable future… consists of one’s ability to manipulate both. I'm aware.”

The woman continued after a slight pause and the male opened his eyes to regard her relaxed features as she continued talking, he’d had the suspicion during the beginning of this question that it was going to be quite forwardly addressed to him. She’d get nowhere being as vague as before, as he’d proven he could easily tangent off into the unfortunate grouping he was supposed to inhabit. Pan didn’t need to think about his answer at all, and let loose a light chuckle, half at the question itself and half toward her ‘mister’ . Clearly then, she wasn’t happy with his ‘Mrs. Arithmancy’, but she also made it clear that he’d earned himself a place in that mind of hers, one that would regard him as she would any other mature intellect. The male almost wanted to laugh at the sentiment, not out of disrespect… but for another inward reason or two.

”Tsua, Pantera.” Why not? He’d give her that one for free; this conversation was a good work out and, he didn’t doubt it would only get more and more interesting. Deciding then to step up into that seat, which was rightly bigger then himself, the male offered his name as a sly acceptance to her subtle hint for returned respect and Pan tipped his head forward slightly in an acceptable enough nod.

”In all honesty, I couldn’t tell you; certain circumstances would require certain differing actions… It would depend on if the beast was my issue, what I had at my disposal and if there was any profit in acknowledging it at all.” Pantera didn’t hide that he was strictly selfish, he wouldn’t save anyone unnecessary from jaws or fire, but he believed he could if indeed the sentiment so took him. He would endeavour to put the beast to sleep if it was a product and was hindering progress and he would experiment with its temperament, much like he did with the staff at Hogwarts, in order to deduce the best sale he could make out of it.

”But, know that I don’t fear the dragon, sleeping, awake, my problem or not.” He allowed her, as sort of settlement; an inkling into his complicated and circumstantial nature.
”And you, Professor?” The male looked amused at his last word, as if it hadn’t passed his lips for so long that it felt odd passing through his lips.

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[Cindra Rourke]

”Passion and weakness a both a means of success and destruction; the foreseeable future… consists of one’s ability to manipulate both. I'm aware.”

Finally, a sign that she hadn’t been seeing more potential in the young man than was honestly there. Slytherin confidence aside, he showed a more realistic comprehension in the words he uttered without the same boasting casualty as before. The ability to acknowledge the risks and their possible consequences was the bridge that crossed the gap between the reckless and inexperienced youth, and the meticulous conduct of maturity.

Manipulation was the child of control- controlling your own passions and weaknesses as well as others‘. No control and outcomes were unpredictable. His exploits had probably not garnered him the level of experience to learn that connection, but he was clearly not your regular foolish youth.

Cindra was feeling confident in her assessments thus far. Promise he had, indeed. But could he also show a willingness to play like one of the ‘big boys’?

”Tsua, Pantera.”

The fact he had given her that piece of knowledge wasn’t lost on her. It was a gambit, the pureblood arena was rife with alliances, some as old as the stone under their feet, others as ever changing as the seasons. A name brought associations, prejudices, and other unpleasant thoughts to mind, not that it did in her mind. She knew all too well how names were used as weapons, or shields, in their world, but that the name is nothing more than that. Cindra cared to see beyond it, as she wanted others to see beyond hers, to dig beneath the outer shell and judge the contents within.

Tsua was a name not unknown to her, it had passed between the lips of a few in her father’s circle, yet she and her own circles of association weren’t directly tied to the family. It did resurrect the question as to whether or not this young wizard was a rebel or out to prove himself. To follow a parallel course pointed towards the latter. Interesting, and frankly, admirable notion in her opinion. Not many Slytherins would chose to not take full advantage of their familial notoriety.


As he continued, it was evident his personal gain was a large factor in his actions. It was an unavoidable trait in slithering reptiles, salacious bite or no. Nature made half the wizard, or witch, and she couldn’t hold it against him. His motivation was clear.

A pawn for a pawn. Her knowledge, his profit. Nearly an even game so far.


”But, know that I don’t fear the dragon, sleeping, awake, my problem or not.”

And then he reminded her again, of how more he had yet to learn in the game. Fear had it’s value, it should be utilized and examined. It gave one grounding, scope, and lessened their haste. Seizing it before it seized you helped you avoiding becoming it’s victim.

Having no fear was a lie. It was a denial.

It was then that Cindra knew he would likely delve into the depths she imagined, wise or not. Whether she would actually task him so, she wouldn’t be sure until later. When stepping into foreign waters, she’d wade before swimming, swim before finding the current, and test it’s strength before willingly submerging.

”And you, Professor?”

A smile returned to her lips. Question answered. He could catch on and he almost sounded surprised at himself for having done so. Perhaps the words were foreign to his lips. Youth she wouldn’t hold against Pantera, he was quick and clever, and taking the challenge well; skills needed to rise in the ranks. She had no doubt he would do so.

As it was, the level had shifted.

With a gesture of her hand and the slight nod of her head, she offered him the seat opposite her then produced her wand and with a silent wave, the inky mess vanished, the parchment folded itself back inside the book before it closed and set itself in the chair over which her robes hung. Etiquette called for the removal of such irrelevant items in such matters, it detracted from the atmosphere, yet another small gesture of respect being extended.

“Rourke,” she offered, a pawn within his reach, evening the score. It wasn’t given the haughty reverence one might expect. It was a way to a means, but not one she took joy in. Playing games by serpentine rules didn’t mean one necessarily liked it. It came out indifferently, he could take what he wanted from it as she had his. If you sacrificed a piece you couldn’t dictate it’s fate.


“It’s not dragons I fear, but fear itself. At times, our acquaintances prove themselves lacking and submit to it when pressure comes to bear, waking the fiery beast and leaving you to handle the flames.”

It was no longer a pawn she was moving into play, but a rook. Moving forward several spaces quickly, but just as easily moved back. Cindra had as much to offer as to gain in this, and it was a piece she rarely played, but Pantera had made an impression on her. His growth, as it were, could very well benefit from how he judged the move.

“If you don’t fear dragons, I doubt you would fear their wrath, so I wonder… would you risk getting burnt for monetary as well as other personal gains?”

[Pantera Tsua]

Rourke? Pantera had heard the name before and was aware of the current head of the Rourke family… Luan was indeed the sort of person Pantera might be inclined to respect. The man had connections and the sort of presence that was said to inspire as much respect as it did from fear from any one person. Now that kind of prowess was something Pan might curl his spine a little for – not so much that he would be able to see his knees, but enough for a strain on the back of his neck. It wasn’t youth, however, that drove this sort of stiffness, nor was it some delusion of grandeur, unfortunately (Pan often thought) he had quite a good grip on reality and his own limitations. It wasn’t even the unyielding steel of his parents that did it, it was simply because Pantera had no reason to kneel any further; he was not a subordinate and would not yield that sort of control to someone who hadn’t proved himself before the boys own eyes.

Within families there were dark lies, tragedies and more secrets then one could imagine, this was easy knowledge though and so was the fact that there was very little distinction between fact and fiction within these large powerful families. It all happened brutishly fast, too, whenever one of these secrets reared their ugly heads. Knowing this, Pantera would dare to be as brash as to see and act worthy of respect before he’d entitle anyone before himself.

But this was interesting, Pantera had never had the ‘honour’ of being in the Rourke head’s presence himself but he dwelled on the concept of it and erected a series of questions in his mind that it was silent law not to ask. Was she his daughter? Or perhaps just a spin-off to the clan? Was she the heir? Was he disappointed in the fact she was a Ravenclaw… though, Pan had no proof of that, other then her nature; who knew? A few pulled strings here and there and she would be living a lie without any knowledge of it.

It was for that reason thatPantera thoroughly enjoyed these large powerful families, they were fun to pick apart and they never disappointed.

Saying that though, Pan decided thoughtfully, it was safe to say it wasn’t something he should continue thinking about; this woman was quite unlike what he would imagine her to be under the circumstance of her family and he’d respect that she was a person in her own right, rather then a walking crest or a tattered banner. Of course this would be less fun, but it was more profitable – there was still this curious game to be played.

Fear itself, huh?

Pan scowled slightly at this and shifted, taking this moment to regard the chair the female had extended to him. The male slid from the side of the table and brushed off his clothes, still with that slight scowl etched across his brow and slightly dark, feminine features.

Fearing fear was very wise and clever, but Pan disagreed with it and regarded the words with some level of distaste. He allowed her to see this on his face. Pan’s clothes began to chime and shift with his movements, following the tilt of his head as he tipped it to the side slightly and opened his eyes to regard the female again. After curling one of his slender hands round part of the chair’s skeletal frame, he moved it back a little, but then paused.

It was too wise… too clever; so much so that it just wasn’t efficient. Fear was an incapacitator, if she spent her time worrying about how her subordinates were going to deal with it; then her business would fail. All people were questionable, no one ever acted the same and they were full of surprises, more often then not, though they weren’t, but it was still hard to say how any one person would handle fear… whether they would betray, run, die, would snap at the challenge or would bite back at it, but you could be sure that any hireable person wasn’t someone you should ever keep within close quarters. Not only were they of questionable origin, skills and other such… difficulties, but also the fact they were hireable alone was more then enough reason for precautions.

Precautions that eliminated the need for fear, either that or it was simple as not to fear being marred or betrayed in any way… but then, this woman was out for self-preservation, wasn’t she? She might understand his concept of business were he to explain it, but that would give too much away…

”That’s wise, but not very efficient. That way there’d be too much to fear, it would be over-complicated and your control would wane.” He said before he pulled out the chair a little more. “ Then your work there in the first place would become an unprofitable sham. You’re too careful. So much so that it would be a wonder you’d get anything done.” You had to be fast and perfect if you wanted to make a profit, you had to be strong and rather brash to get attention; to be recognised as something other then a little shadow; such risks were necessary – were a means of gaining things much misunderstood.

Pantera smiled questionably at her words and paused himself yet again, he lifted a couple of hands up to the buckles on his shirt, undoing a few, before his fingers nimbly took to the other fastenings and surprisingly quickly the dark fabric crumbled under his grip as he pulled it up from the bottom, exposing his stomach and chest, keeping his eyes on her as she was to survey the damage.

Scars marred his slightly tanned skin, some were deep slices that crossed over each other in places, others might have been bites, burns, scrapes and were the beginnings of a whole load more old and newer wounds that looked horribly questionable and spoke of darker things. Some were born of work; others of home and a couple resided secretly from other things. “The simple answer is, simply… Yes. There isn’t much I wouldn’t suffer for the right gain. It’s brash perhaps and maybe even foolish but my reasons aren’t unfounded.”Pantera wasn’t invincible and he had his fears, but death, pain and dragons weren’t one of them.

The male pulled the black fabric back down over his slender form and marred skin, finally taking the seat the female had offered him, Pan lent back in it and regarded the woman; He’d supposed from the start that she presumed he was so far unscathed and ignorant in places, perhaps he was… but he’d learned the brunt of a lot of situations over the years; ever since he’d been old enough to apply for a wand. He didn’t act like he knew about the issues clinging to his way of doing things, nor about the precautions of his attitude, but he did; He just wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing it bothered him.

”Risks are necessary; not only are they a learning experience, but if you can pull through them the gains are greater then those you can snatch by being cautious or too unwilling to face the wrath of a beast you were doing wrong by in the first place. Being near the dragon alone, is reason to suspect you’re going to get burned. You wouldn’t be so foolish as to enter this area with our ‘acquaintances’ without stabilizing their fears with your precautions first, now would you?” Pan asked, but it wasn’t really any sort of question, the male’s tone made that clear, but he smiled slightly none the less.

[Cindra Rourke]

There was no attempt at hiding his repugnance. Clearly they saw things differently in that regard, but to each their own. Cindra was cautious, perhaps far too much for a Slytherin, but she wasn’t one, and it served her well. There were many experiences in her life that she was sure would have impacted her differently, namely the worst, had she not been wise enough to wait until the appropriate action was determined, be it run head on, or turn a blind eye.

”You’re too careful. So much so that it would be a wonder you’d get anything done.”

At his words, she grinned. He apparently had made another assumption as to her own dealings, amusing really, that she was in a similar position as him. A desire for knowledge, yes, it was one of her weaknesses, but so too was obscurity. There were those with whom she associated that knew one vital fact about her or another, few knowing more than her inheritance and a single ability, but none of them knew more than she chose to make them aware of. Knowledge was power, and she handled it with an iron grip in soft kid gloves. She played the game, they played along, and they both benefited; she wouldn’t risk someone knowing more than was necessary to foolishly aim for a greater benefit when doing so would give them power over her, even if they never realized it. Arm oneself, even amongst ’friends’.

Cindra might not get ‘as much done’ as young Pantera, but she got what she needed. She was patient and willing to take the time to arrange her board before initiating play. Strategy was never to be underrated.

Then he made to take the offered seat, which pleased her. There was much to be said about level eye contact. It emphasized the respect she was according him. Were she to be more like her father, she would stand shortly after he was seated and continue with the young man in such a lower position that not only the physical difference would stress his rank, so too would the fact that he would have to raise his eyes to meet hers, as one looks up to higher authority. Subtly wasn’t her father’s greatest talent.

But she wasn’t her father. She, at least, understood the benefit of not ‘pulling rank’ on someone. They were bolder, more comfortable, often being more like themselves, and it left them to wonder to what extent your power reached. That knowledge Pantera was certainly not getting, yet.

Cindra quirked an eyebrow as he lifted his shirt, displaying his trophies of hardships won. It was the first time she felt in any way unsettled by the young wizard and it took a good deal of resolve on her part to not react to the sight. Physical scars she had encountered before, and amongst some pureblood families it was rather common. Unlike them, the Rourkes preferred those not visible to the naked eye, those that buried deeper and were harder to overcome than a sore line of scar tissue. No matter which sort, they were dismal realities that she honestly did not enjoy being faced with.

“Being near the dragon alone, is reason to suspect you’re going to get burned. You wouldn’t be so foolish as to enter this area with our ‘acquaintances’ without stabilizing their fears with your precautions first, now would you?”

She merely smiled in response, no words were necessary, they had already established they understood each other well enough thus far.

Her eyes dropped to the table for a moment, her slender hand coming up to its surface where her thumbnail grazed a slim crack in the wood. As she slowly ran her thumb over the spot a second time she returned her gaze to Pantera. Time to see if he truly meant it, and could realize the magnitude of her next move.

“As risk is clearly neither here nor there, would the knowledge of a skilled associate, whose intricate… webs reach far, often entangling those of others without their knowledge, be of interest to you?”

Pantera might read into that enough to determine who she meant. Some used names, codes, ways of separating their public image from that of the underground, like ‘Portia’. He was the only one Cindra trusted when few dared turn their back in his presence. The two were held together by bonds as strong and hard to see as spider silk. One was their desire to play with capable players.

[Pantera Tsua]

{ OoC: I’m very sorry that too so long. Dx }


Pantera didn’t like the seat, it was an odd position and he’d never been comfortable with, being seated was an excuse a clever position that rendered said person immobile once they’d taken it. All this woman needed to do was stand and she’d have appointed herself above him… and for him to stand in argument of that was stupid, no matter how you looked at it; at that point, the grim reality would be that he’d have to stand it, he’d have to look up into said persons face lest some ill-fate befall him at an obvious conflict.

After all, the kind of people that would rise to hold themselves above their current ‘interest’ would be clever then those who sold their venom and profited only from the company they kept. A mixture of all was the most efficient, Pan found, if he looked through the lists of powerful families he knew…but still, he didn’t really like how anyone did things; with power came pride and pride was a precarious object.

The Slytherin almost chuckled at the lack of expression on the female’s face as she looked at his scars, he didn’t suppose she had any visible ones, but perhaps she was cautious for a reason? It was hard to say though; some people were born with that deficit, he wouldn’t have thought it to run in the Rourke family, but he didn’t know them that well. They as a family weren’t any of his business, they’d never called upon his family, nor did they work the same circuit.

Pantera raised a dark brow and tipped his head as the female dropped her gaze to the table and toyed with an imperfection, the male almost let go a scowl, but remembered himself before the emotion creased the skin of his brow slightly, he kept his dark gaze on her as she seemed to take some time, fingering the line in the table a second time before she returned her gaze to him. Had she taken the time to think about something? Her next move? Or was she uncomfortable? After holding her gaze for so long, this sudden aversion was strange, an oddly open telltale sign and Pantera couldn’t help feeling it wasn’t an accident. For someone so cautious… she shouldn’t really be comfortable enough to act normally or to do something as such without a point.

Pan wasn’t sure if he could even be pleased about it, if she was that comfortable, he couldn’t even feel smug, he’d just feel irritated. The male wasn’t sure why and half wanted to think himself through it, but it didn’t really matter. It was a minute detail and searching himself was the last thing he wanted to do. There were a lot of things he wouldn’t like bringing to the forefront of his mind and, thanks to his age, he didn’t have to deal with them right now anyway.

Pantera let the scowl surface this time and looked at her for a long moment with it to taint his dark sharp visionaries, was she offering? The thought amused him greatly, but he didn’t think that was it. She’d certainly jumped forward a couple of paces from their ‘scenario’ concerning the dragon. It was a surprisingly forward question, Pan rathered, in comparison to her others…but she managed to veil it was artistic and eloquent language. Oh, you’d be surprised at how many people would stumble after such a ploy; big words frightened little people.

”Of interest, most certainly… but it would depend on said associate themselves. I wouldn’t want to get so tangled in these webs…that I become a puppet.” It was a hindrance really, but… the game wouldn’t be fun if it were easy. People who were of any use were hard to get at without becoming tangled and like the Arithmancy teacher herself had said, people often got entangled without even realising it.

At that point the spider would be upon them, to immobilize them until she’s ready to feast.

”Mostly likely I’d be more interested then I perhaps should be.” The male decided after a pause, lifting one of his slender hands to the underside of his chin, before he drew a black nail across the flesh a couple of times. “My interest would be as easy to justify as any other risk.” The female could take that any way she wanted and Pan pulled his black lips into a smile.
Perhaps he’d answered that too carefully, or perhaps she’d nudged him down a step, it was bound to happen…he’d realized early on, but he was intrigued.

What was she getting at? He could assume she was talking about herself, but then he wasn’t wholly sure…she knew a lot of people, but then that wasn’t really very safe on her end.

But, and Pantera tipped his head forward and laughed at this; as if he’d only just gotten some unspoken joke and lifted his head with an openly amused look strewn across his feminine features. He liked her.

[Cindra Rourke]

(OOC: No problem. )

”Of interest, most certainly… but it would depend on said associate themselves. I wouldn’t want to get so tangled in these webs…that I become a puppet.”

So he didn’t pick up entirely on her message. It wasn’t surprising, really, given Portia’s methods. Those who had the most to gain by his association knew him by such, everyone else, depending on the main ‘web’ he was employing, knew him by whatever name his first contacts bestowed upon him. What appeared to be several different talented men were in truth just one, one who made intrigue, acquirement, and deception an art form. Cindra knew enough about Portia to not only benefit from his talents, but also to make herself of use to him as far as she felt comfortable to do so. Though she had no illusions as to the lines he crossed, she would rather ignore the fact and keep to the lines of ethics she chose.

He had never asked her to cross those lines… yet.

The Tsua’s had to be familiar with him in some way. Portia had his hands in the trade too deep, by his own desires mind you, that there were few circuits he didn’t dabble in. Pantera’s youth, however might account for his possibly not being familiar with the scope of Portia’s power and connections. In the public eye her father had power in spades, but any pureblood wizard knew that not all power, nor those who hold the greatest power, out for all to see.

Cindra kept her hand on the table, the crack in the surface just under the pad of her thumb as she gazed at him. Though her head had been down a moment before, she could feel the change in his expression when she had dropped her gaze. He was guarded, thoughtful, and maybe even disappointed by her shift in attention, but that was good. This was a move that would require thought and a carefully made decision. An amateur would have just jumped in blind at this point.

“Mostly likely I’d be more interested then I perhaps should be. My interest would be as easy to justify as any other risk.”

And there was the Pantera she had seen earlier. A bit reckless, yes, but then one had to be to survive in his business. Another reason Cindra had boundaries where Portia was concerned. His smile, she imagined, probably unnerved many of his classmates, but it made the corners of her lips rise to form her own in response. Being around serpents so long had rubbed off on her, she knew she was enjoying this exchange far too much, but it couldn’t be helped. Call it Slytherin Charm, call it like draws to like, either way, Cindra was feeling more inclined to speak to him as an equal as time went on, yet she knew better than to completely let her guard down no matter how pleasing the young wizard’s company was.

What she didn’t expect was the laughter that quickly followed.

Either she had missed a joke in there somewhere, and frankly, Slytherin humor wasn’t that damn subtle, or some thought had struck him that caused his outburst. Judging it to be the latter, Cindra remained smiling as he finished. The way his features lit up gave her a short moment of seeing him more unguarded than she had, or probably would again, and for those few seconds, he appeared like a regular teenager who had never born the scars she knew lay under his dark shirt.

Cindra enjoyed seeing him that way. But it was quickly over and she slid her hand from the table and let it drop back into her lap as she spoke.

“This particular associate isn’t looking to make another puppet. Getting entangled in his webs isn’t a problem so much as being mentored in designing them and crafting them yourself in a far greater scope. No, this spider isn’t looking for another lackey as could be found in any alley or corner, but an… apprentice,” there really was no better way to phrase that, and Cindra had paused as she came to it. “Someone suitable to learning how his craft is done. To become his partner and possible successor.”

This piece she had held for a few years. Since it was placed in her hands, she had never thought to play it, that the opportunity would not present itself, nor would she think any ‘opponent’ worthy of its use. But then this chain-clad youth had literally burst through an old wooden door and throw all her notions to pot. And now she had laid it out there.

Bold, brash, and a bit reckless herself.

One might even accuse her of changing houses at that moment, but she didn’t care. There was something about Pantera that her instincts told her made it the right move. It would be too late to take it back now, so she had to trust in them.

[Pantera Tsua]

An apprentice?

For some reason a shiver etched its way down Pantera’s spine and remained there as a brisk steeling chill for a long moment, a short lapse broke down his current thought and for a moment his entire mine felt like it was close to collapsing in on itself. Not only was he rather surprised the female had said something so brash but her suggestion itself almost sounded absurd. The male’s slender fingers stilled in their current position and, if it was at all possible, Pantera’s gaze intensified as he narrowed his dark visionaries.

He wasn’t sure who she was referring to, it could be any number of people… though, they didn’t sit quite right in his mind when he incorporated this scenario. He could eliminate most of the people he was aware of, simply because they were typically worthless and another whole category went when he thought of the opportunist cowards. This woman wouldn’t play games on their level and he doubted she’d work under someone she didn’t respect. This eliminated all but one category, but only a few players dwelled in that section to Pantera’s knowledge. So, he would take a step back, he’d remove the personal outlook and he’d regard the name’s his family had ushered under the sorts of pretences that he wasn’t to know; that would be for the heir to know and Pantera’s father had made it perfectly clear before the school term started that his once cunning and brilliant son wouldn’t inherit even a galleon, let alone the Tsua ‘business’.

That man was infuriating, but an idiot when it counted, he thought he was so invincible that he didn’t play a particularly careful hand within his own home. Naïve really, but Pantera had never looked up to his father, the man was a stepping-stone and nothing more. A couple of names came to mind, but they appeared more like codes then anything and the young male wasn’t sure what to do with them. He was aware that they’d exchanged some rather genius deals with these names… but Pantera had decided to store those codes away until they seemed necessary, he hadn’t taken the time to research them, even though something told him that would do nothing more then deepen his curiosity, rather then reveal answers.

Deciding against pursuing the knowledge further, the male slipped his attentions back to the female, he was somewhat amused she’d been so brash about it; he was once again unsure which house she might’ve belonged to during her years within Hogwarts, no self-respecting Ravenclaw would have jumped into something as significant as that.

But, maybe there was something in the water? A lot of people had been paying attention to him recently, rather then just letting him get on with it. The male quelled a flush of excitement, or…rather something he might’ve confused as such. It was hard to say, the male didn’t get to feel that sort of thing much anymore. Pantera tipped his head, letting his darkest black tresses flicker in the same direction, followed by a sharp song from the large disk earrings hanging loosely from his ears.

There was really no question about it but Pantera wondered how long she’d been holding out on this… ‘task’. He didn’t doubt few people would be able to impress the woman, but that didn’t necessarily mean there hadn’t been other candidates. Unless of course it was specifically for young talent, children these days were getting just getting duller and Pantera was a too-good-to-be-true goldmine in comparison…

At this point the dark male wasn’t sure how long he’d been silent for and lifted a hand to his lips absently as he mulled through his thoughts, running a finger across his bottom lip as he often did.

”Any other candidates?”

He asked, drawing out the first word for a moment more then necessary as he paused his finger and relaxed his gaze a little, loosening the tension in his shoulders a little. It was suspicious and a precarious offer at best, but that depended on how Pantera himself dealt with it mostly; there would be …repercussions to accepting this, he could feel its weight already but the male was an ace with managing that sort of pressure and was weathered enough not to be put off by the punishments and scars this might bring him. Of course, he was thinking more along the lines of trouble with the Tsua, rather then trouble with… whomever the female was talking about.

It wasn’t necessary for her to be specific, though. Either Pantera would know something, or he’d learn.

It was important to note however, that Mistress Rourke was a trusted associate in the eyes of this spider, you couldn’t trust just anyone with this sort of task, or at least, not to do it well.
”And you’re recommending me for this?” A smile pulled itself across Pantera’s black lips and he looked somewhat amused, but the expression was thinner then it had been previously, as his attentions were split now, in several directions.

”I’m flattered, but what makes you think this is a good idea? You’ve no knowledge of what I might do with …this opportunity. Recklessness is quite becoming of you, Professor...” The male chuckled slightly and let his gaze focus promptly on the female, with a half smirk tied to his lips.
”I assume you already know what my answer will be by now.”

[Cindra Rourke]

He was silent for longer than she expected. Previously his replies came after short deliberation if not immediately, but this time he was clearly thinking it through before plunging. Again her instincts told her she was on the right course. Pantera was far wiser than his years.

“Any other candidates?”

Cindra gave a short, hearty chuckle.

“And you’re recommending me for this?”

Smiling more warmly than she had just a second ago, she leaned back in her chair and propped her chin lightly on top of her knuckles, her fingers gently curved underneath as her elbow rested again on the armrest, her increasing ease in his continued company evident. Amusement flashed in her eyes both at that thought as well as his words. It had been a Slytherin move on her part, but not one done lightly. He knew the answers to both; the questions moot.

However, it did point to his discomfort in the situation. He was questioning himself more than her, Cindra determined, perhaps out of surprise that the offer had been made. It told her Pantera did indeed know the limits of his experience; only a fool sure of his superiority wouldn’t have blinked at the proposition. Her instincts weren’t letting her down. They rarely did.

“I’m flattered, but what makes you think this is a good idea? You’ve no knowledge of what I might do with …this opportunity. Recklessness is quite becoming of you, Professor...”

A compliment… from a Slytherin no less. She must still have it, she thought as he laughed and cast her a half smirk.

“I assume you already know what my answer will be by now.”

Smirking in kind, she held his gaze a moment while conveying her understanding through the visual contact alone. “If you are to accept this offer, you will need to know one thing.”

Her blue-gray eyes never left his dark ones as she lifted her head and slid the fingers she had just been resting on down the front of her cashmere v-neck. As they reappeared from behind the fabric, it looked as if she held nothing but air, but Cindra could feel the heat from her body radiating from the metal pinched between her thumb and forefingers.

Concentrating on his eyes and the feel of the metal against her fingertips, she rubbed her thumb against its face. Once she did, her gaze fell to the coin and grinned. Now visible, the bronze coin bore a symbol she knew of, had seen Portia use once, and reveled in the knowledge his little token had never failed her before. Charmed by his own hands, one of only three, one belonging to Portia himself, it enabled her to focus on the young man seated across from her and it would bear a trademark symbol Pantera would in some way know.

Each code name he used was associated with some form of symbol, number, or word, his numerous signatures. And at the moment, it bore a spiraled line, the outer end surrounded by three small dots. What name went with it, she couldn’t recall, but she grinned and held the coin out across the table for him to see for himself. “You’ll need to know…”

After he looked she slowly pulled it back until she could catch his gaze again, rubbed it again, and found it bearing the number 9 in a circle, and again held it out to him. “How these…” A third time she repeated this, revealing another symbol for his inspection before pulling the coin all the way back to her, wrapping her fingers around it as she returned her gaze to his.

“All connect.” She let her words hang there between them a moment. The warmth of the coin pressed into her palm and she hoped he would put and two together. Her time of veiling words was over. What connections he could come up with she didn't know, perhaps he knew one of the signatures through family, through word of mouth, or personal experience, but the odds of any of those revelations adding up to the truth she had been hinting at were slim.

Cindra had been bombarding him with details to take in, and could imagine him wondering the nature of her association with this spider, how she came to hold such a powerful piece to play, and she half wondered what conclusions he might be coming to even as he faced this new little puzzle. He had entered a complex game and he was only facing the tip of the iceborg.

“Any theories Mister Tsua?” she asked silkily, her lips emphasizing his name with a smile. Correct or not, they were in too deep for her to not continue regardless.