A/N: So it's been a while and I'm basically done with college. We'll see how the real world treats me in terms of free time, but I do not abandon stories. I've been writing other things in the meantime, including some stuff related to this one, but I'm feeling more engaged with this one than I have in a long time. There should be some more updates over the next few weeks most likely. We'll see how much I care about finals.

Unlike before, Katie arrived at the designated location for her meeting with Igor in midafternoon. The location itself surprised her, as she found herself at a small cafe in the even smaller village of Portersville not thirty kilometers from the outskirts of London. She'd actually flown there after placing a very, very strong concealment charm on herself, but didn't want to risk apparition into a place she'd never visited before, especially one with such a strong muggle presence.

When she entered the cafe, the hostess looked expectantly at her. "Just you?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm supposed to be meeting someone," she said. "But I don't think he's here just yet."

The server narrowed her eyes. "Your name's not Katie, by any chance, is it?"

Katie nodded. "It is."

"Well, Mr. Smith is actually already here. He always sits in the back room, reserves the whole space." She gestured with the menu clutched in her hands. "Just follow me."

Katied followed the hostess past the main cafe area and into a small room separated by a beaded curtain which clattered as they parted it. Igor was indeed sitting at a table, a cup of coffee steaming gently beneath his chin. His one good eye flickered between the two of them.

"Zank you, May," he said gruffly, and May set the menu down on the table and left the two of them alone in the small back room. Three other tables stood vacant in the room, each decorated with cheap lace tablecloths and vases of dried, fragrant flowers. It was pretty, in a sort of quaint way.

"Should I bother asking why we're here? Or are we going to move on to the next place in a minute?"

Igor sipped his coffee indelicately, slurping at the hot liquid, and a thin layer of coffee decorated his beard and mustache when he set down the cup. "No, ve are going to talk here," he said.

"We are?" His response genuinely shocked her. "But it's so…

"Public?" he finished with a raised brow. "Yes, it is. But I have enchanted zis room so zat ve vill not be disturbed."

She gaped at him. "But this is a muggle establishment. Surely that's in violation of the Statute of Secrecy and a dozen other laws besides."

"It vould be in violation of ze statute, yes, but May is no ordinary muggle." When Katie stared blankly at him in response, he rolled his eyes, as if the answer ought to be self-explanatory. "She is a, how do you say pa angliski, a sqvib, yes? So magic is no secret for her."

"And how the hell did you figure that out?"

"As it so happens, my mozer was not the worst daughter in ze family, running off viz a Russian. Her sister, who vas much younger zan her, vas a sqvib. She vas perhaps six years old ven my mozer ran away, and she never knew I existed until I tracked her down. So, ve have an arrangement, she and I." He shrugged. "It vorks."

"So do you other family in this area?"

"Just her," said Igor. "She vas married, for a time, but it vas never going to vork. He vas a muggle, and she couldn't explain her parents to him. My grandparents."

"Well," said Katie, treading cautiously as she always did around Igor, "it's wonderful that you have some connections here."

"It is vat it is," he said. "Family isn't everything. Blood only gets you so far."

They sat in silence for a moment. Katie cleared her throat when the silence dragged too far, and she fidgeted with the corner of the plastic-sheathed menu May had provided.

"You have found yourself a strange situation," said Igor finally. "Vat I told you before, not much has changed. Vitali's fazer is not pleased viz his son being caught. I have heard talk of mobilization to extract his beloved son from custody, zough I zink zere is not much to fear. Kosovoro is not half ze man he vonce vas."

"Does the ministry know about this connection, about this possibility?"

Igor's expression hardened. "It is not my place to keep track of vat ze English ministry does and does not know."

"Right," she said quickly. "Of course."

He continued speaking, although he spoke more slowly than before, as if he now anticipated resistance on her part. She sensed his mistrust in every carefully chosen word which left his lips, but she drank it in nonetheless.

"No such vorry viz Kir. Kostya vas disappointed in his brozer, but happy he vas arrested for his crimes. As I suspected, zey had not spoken in many, many years. But he keeps track of him, and he believes Kir is not so important zat zey vill come to rescue him."

"And the others?"

"The Bulgarians are nozing, peons at best. Petty criminals."

She frowned at that last statement. "I wouldn't call attempted murder a petty crime."

"In comparison to vat ozers like zem have done, petty. And zey hold no real power."

She tapped her fingers against the table, withholding her disagreement for the moment. Perhaps Igor possessed a different concept of violence, but nothing about their attack on Oliver spoke of anything other than malicious, vicious natures.

Igor continued unperturbed. "It is ze last one zat I do not understand. Zat Petrescu fellow. No von I have talked to has heard of him. Perhaps, I do now know as many Romanians, and I cannot understand ze langvage like I can understand Bulgarian and Ukrainian, but, it bozers me still." He seemed more annoyed with himself than anything else. "My few contacts in Romania vere not able to help."

'Well, you'll know me shortly enough, if that makes any difference," she said.

For the first time since they'd first encountered each other, a look of genuine surprise and confusion flashed across his face. "Vat do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to be in Romania to train as a healer. Leaving in three weeks, in fact."

He had schooled his expression into something more neutral at that point, although something still flickered in his eyes. Amusement, perhaps, but also something hungrier and darker. She realized that she had just become something she'd never been to Igor before: useful.

"Zat is an interesting development," he said, and lifted the coffee cup to his mouth to drink deeply. "I did not know zis."

"Well, it's a rather recent decision on my part."

"You have just become a much more interesting figure, Katie Bell," he said.

"Well, that was always my objective," she said, not liking the implication of his statement.

"Ven ve first met, you told me you had vorked for ze Order." His eye probed her expression intently, yet she found his gaze largely unreadable in return. "Many people like to...exaggerate about zeir efforts in ze var, especially vonce it is convenient to do so. Tell me, exactly, vat did you do."

Her skin prickled. "I fought in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Did you kill anyvone?"

Her breath stuttered over his question, and her heart began thudding rapidly in her chest. "What...what kind of question is that?" she forced through her disbelief.

"A relatively simple von," he said. "A yes or no qvestion."

"Does it matter?"

"Perhaps," said Igor. "Perhaps not. It matters if you have to do it again."

"Well, no," she said finally. "No, I didn't. At least not that I'm aware of. It was quite chaotic at the scene, you know. Hard to keep track of where every spell landed."

The corners of his mouth twitched downwards, but her response did not deter him. "I ask zis because I zink you might be just ze person to help. If you vant to know vy your friend vas attacked, you vill need to learn from me. And it vill not alvays be clean or elegant or safe."

"Vat do you have in mind?" she asked.

"I vant you to be ze von investigating in Romania. It vill be much easier to find information about Petrescu from inside his own country, from his fellow Romanian vizards. I vould guide you, help you figure out who to contact, vat to do. Zis is, assuming of course, zat you still are interested in somezing like zis."

She considered his proposal. Although Amit had introduced Igor to her, he had explained little of his background beyond the fact that they had met in Russia, and that Igor was well connected with political resistance movements in Russia and Eastern Europe. Beyond that, however, she didn't know his motives, his tactics, or even who he truly was. Yet here he was proposing a plan to mentor her through the process of...something. Espionage. Investigation. Murder?

"Why are you offering this?" she asked. "Why are you helping me like this?"

"Because I have spent more zan zirty years fighting men like ze vons who attacked your friend. And I do not vish to be ignorant about any furzer about potential zreats. Zis is a mutual exchange. You can help you friend, and I can stop vatever is brewing before it boils over vonce more." The jagged scar across his brow seemed to jut out further from his skin, and his cloudy eye reflected the light of the coffee shop, refracting it right back at her. She looked away. "But it depends on vat you vant. I vill not vork viz somevon who is not villing."

What did she want? To be a healer, to challenge herself, to uncover the truth. Leanne had often joked that Katie should have been a Ravenclaw, so driven was she to seek knowledge. But Katie always knew that deep down she was a Gryffindor. Above all else, she always needed to help her friends. And Oliver was nothing if not a friend.

"I'll do it," she said. "I'll work with you while I'm over there."

He nodded seriously and drained the last dregs of his coffee. "In zat case, I vill need to know vat you know. Know vat you have done viz the Order." He set down his cup. "Let's start from ze beginning. Tell me about your first mission."

They spent nearly two hours in the coffee shop while she recounted every last detail of her work with the order and while he probed her magical knowledge. The whole time, he listened intently, never passing judgment or indicating pleasure at her responses.

"Ve vill be in touch," he said at last. "I vill visit you vonce you are in Romania. Zen ve vill evaluate your position zere."

She left him alone in the coffee shop, mind still whirling as she returned to her flat. Neither Alicia nor Angelina was home-a fact she was quite grateful for, as the slow-burning tension between her two friends still made any interaction intensely uncomfortable for any in the room-so she settled into the couch for a bit of reading. Now that she had committed to being a healer, it couldn't hurt to brush up on her herbology.

Not half an hour after arriving back home, a knock sounded at the door. She set down her book in confusion-as far she knew, they weren't expecting any visitors-and she called out, "Who is it?"

"Katie, it's me," the voice said. "Amit. Can Let me in."

She opened the door, and Amit barged in, turning around to face her with eyes burning and a furious scowl slashed across his face. She was reminded, suddenly, that just as with Igor, she knew little of Amit's background and his abilities beyond what Leanne had disclosed to her.

"What in Merlin's name are you thinking?" he yelled.

She gaped at him. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"You working for Igor? Doing his dirty work?"

An icy sensation rushed through her veins, and she lowered her voice. "How do you know about that?"

He gestured at the paste pin he'd given her. "Listening device. I have a matching cufflink-a gift from my father."

She quickly unfastened the pin and thrust it at him. "Get it away from me," she spat. "And don't think I'll be trusting you again so soon after you spied on me."

"It was for your own good," he said. "Igor...with Igor you have no idea what you're getting into."

"Right, and suddenly it's your job to decide what I can and can't handle. You, whom I've only known for a few months."

"It's not you I'm worried about, it's him. It's anyone with him!" He paced across the room. "He was just supposed to supply information, not recruit you to work with him."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've done discrete work, although," she added sardonically, "I guess you know all the details about that now. Everything I did for the Order, my time in hiding."

He did genuinely appear guilty at that last remark, but he swallowed his feelings away and continued to pace. "Look, Katie, if everything I heard and know about you is true, then you're a highly competent witch, and you have more common sense than most Gryffindors I've ever known. But this is different. This is me telling you that working with Igor will be different than working with the Order, and it will be more dangerous."

"May I remind you that we were fighting Lord Voldemort? And that I faced plenty of danger as it was?"

Amit shook his head. "They were dangerous, I'm not dismissing that fact. But they were all British, all working within systems that you understood and studied. Once you go farther away-let's just say you don't even know what they teach at Durmstrang, and you don't know Igor's past."

She stared flatly at him. "Then please, enlighten me."

He pursed his lips. "I can't. Whatever I think of him, I can't betray Igor's trust. But I can tell you that you will be making a grave mistake working for him."

"You can't expect to just barge in here expect me to believe you with nothing to back up your claims," she retorted. When he remained resolutely silent, she sighed. "Amit, I've enjoyed getting to know you this summer. I think you're a good wizard, a good friend to Leanne. But whatever your involvement was at the beginning of this, it's not necessary anymore. I'm doing this for one of my oldest friends, and I'm doing it for myself. All your vague warnings aren't going to change my decision."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he insisted.

"You know what? You're probably right. Maybe I don't. But my entire life, ever since my eleventh birthday when McGonagall showed up and told me I was a witch, I've never known what I was getting myself into. It's never stopped me from doing anything before."

Their eyes met in competition, each trying to force the other to concede through sheer force of will. Katie knew that she would win-however strident Amit's words, her decisions still belonged entirely to herself, and her strong Gryffindor stubborn streak would rear its ugly head long before she retreated in the face of danger.

At last, he backed down. "I should never have introduced you to him in the first place."

"What did you think I was going to do? What was the point of putting me in touch with him in the first place?"

"I thought you were going to be reporting on the issue, not actively involving yourself in the matter."

"The two aren't always mutually exclusive."

His eyes darkened. "No, I suppose not. And now I have your well-being on my conscience, whatever happens."

"If that's how you see it," she told him coolly.

They stood in silence for a moment. Amit appeared to deflate, and he adjusted his glasses across the bridge of his nose and rubbed his sternum intently.

"I suppose I ought to be going," he said, finally puncturing the thick wall of tension.

"Yes, I rather suppose you should," she said quietly.

"I'll see you again, before you leave," he said. "If you change your mind about dealing with Igor, well, I'm happy to intercede on your behalf."

She nodded curtly. "I think I can handle it myself."

"Nevertheless," he said. He walked towards the door, opened it, and hesitated there. "I think we should talk again."

"I'm meeting Leanne for drinks later on in the week. Perhaps I'll see you then," she said stiffly.

Amit's eyes clouded over as the implications of her words sank in. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

The door slammed on his way out.

Merlin, nothing in her life could be simple anymore, could it?

The rest of her week stretched far too long for her liking. Other than beginning to pack, she stained her hands black every day copying everything on the subject of Oliver's attackers in several notebooks. One notebook she kept for herself, one she needed to present to Lee (he had been paying her for some time after all), and another she kept as a spare, locked away and secured with several wards. It was an arduous process and only served to remind her how much she still needed to learn. She'd been researching the history of separatist and merger movements, borrowing books from the Hogwarts Library via her connections to people like Ginny who were still at school.

The only bright spot which emerged in her week came on Thursday when an owl bearing an envelope swooped into their kitchen that morning. With Alicia at an early practice, only she and Angelina were at breakfast. Katie squinted as the sloppy handwriting gracing the outside of the envelope and a broad grin split her face once she deciphered the scribbles.

Angelina eyed her suspiciously. "What's got you so perky?"

She ripped open the envelope. "If I'm correct, then you and I are going to have a wonderful Saturday afternoon." She finished removing the seal and four tickets fell neatly onto the table. "Tickets to the Puddlemere-Falcons game this Sunday. Best seats in the house."

Angelina swooped over her instantly to inspect the tickets. "Did you go on a bender?" she said, whistling as she evaluated the location. "These must have cost a fortune. No way you can afford that, unless whatever you're doing with Lee is paying you an exorbitant amount, in which case, I'm changing careers."

"Er, no," she said. "These are from Ezra, actually. Sort of part of a date."

Angelina gaped at her wordlessly.

"He offered. It's not like I asked for them!"

"Katie Bell," said Angelina slowly, standing to her feet. "Where have you been all my life? Or, where has this version of you been?"

"Excuse me?"

"Seats like these after a first date? He must be smitten with you."

"We had a good time," she said. "Sure. I don't know what he's thinking though."

"What he's thinking is that you're a catch and he's trying to get you to stick around, or at least remember him once you're off cavorting around the rest of Europe," said Angelina smugly. "And it also means that you can use this to your advantage."

"Angelina!"

"I'm sure he's a nice guy, but let's face it. The bloke is built like a tree, and you've gone and bloody scored yourself a professional Quidditch player willing to shell out tickets like it's nothing. If you're not looking for long term, what else are you looking to get out of it?" When Katie remained quiet, Angelina pursed her lips. "Exactly. It's okay to have superficial relationships. He knows the situation."

"He's a really decent guy, Ange. I'm not trying to use him."

"I know you're not, Katie, and I know that you never would, which is why I'm encouraging you to do so. Just a little bit." She shrugged. "Enjoy your last couple weeks here."

Katie just rolled her eyes. She and Angelina took different approaches to relationships and always had; there was no point in arguing. "Well, you're invited of course," she said. "Four tickets leaves enough for you, me Leanne and 'Leesh."

Angelina stiffened and smoothed over the wrinkles in the edge of The Daily Prophet which lay before her on the table. "I think Alicia has practice then. Or something for the Tornados."

Katie sighed. "Does she actually? Because if this is still about that stupid fight you're having over what really is nothing, I'm not brining either of you."

"No, it's not," said Angelina defensively. "Ask her tonight if you don't believe me."

"I will," said Katie. "But regardless, it's a bloody ridiculous row the two of you are having and I don't even know what it's about at this point. I'd love to have both my friends back before I leave you all."

Angelina's face hardened. "This doesn't concern you anymore, Katie."

"Except that it does. Because I live with you two, and you are both some of my best friends, and it's killing me to see you fighting over something which, frankly, I don't even understand. Why are you so upset with Alicia? I thought you two had made up after Kira came over?"

"Kira is the problem, not Alicia," snapped Angelina. "She's a bloody Slytherin, is what she is, and everything she does—how she dresses, how she talks—merlin, it just screams old money, the sort who used to bully the shite out of us in school, or try to at least."

"So you're writing her off after one dinner?"

Angelina shook her head. "I don't like her. And I don't think she's any good for Alicia."

Katie inhaled deeply, steeling herself for what she was about the say and the consequences it might bring. But it needed to be said. "Angelina, I really didn't want to have to say this, but if you're going to be this bloody stubborn then I will: I have held my tongue for years when I disapproved of your choices, and I know Alicia did as well. Because they were your decisions to make, and you needed to figure shit out on your own. Because we trusted you could handle yourself."

Angelina squared her shoulders and Katie winced. "What situations are you talking about, exactly?" she hissed.

"Well, for starters, Fred," said Katie frankly. "Even when you two were officially dating, it was volatile to say the least. And after you broke up, you kept sleeping together even though every time it ended again, you ended up hurting. It was like a cycle, a terrifying cycle. Everyone had to leave the common room when you fought."

Angelina fumed, but Katie continued. "And even when you weren't with him, when you were sleeping with other blokes, that was fine but we didn't exactly think the world of them either. Marcus Belby? Ange, really?"

"But I was just sleeping with them! It didn't matter who they were!" shouted Angelina, bursting back into the conversation. "Unlike Kira, who Alicia seems to have no plans of ditching."

"And Fred? Was that just four years of nothing?"

"Fred was different than Kira," said Angelina.

"How, exactly, was he different? What made him better?"

"Well he was in Gryffindor to bloody well start," snapped Angelina. "He worked for the Order. He was fighting against You-Know-Who. How's that for a start?"

"Kira wasn't working for You-Know-Who, and I've never seen a drop of prejudice in her, not once. In fact, I've never seen her do anything wrong, whereas Fred and George were regularly experimenting on children with their sweets. Merlin knows I loved both of them, but that was wrong, and you know it!"

That seemed to halt Angelina in her tracks. Katie knew for a fact that they had argued over that very same issue (it was hard not to know, what with their arguments audible for miles around whenever they occurred), and that logically, there was no counter. Maybe Kira had done something as bad, but neither of them were aware of such a situation.

Angelina, who had half risen, sank back into her chair, her auror trainee robes drooped almost listlessly over her shoulders. "It was Fred," she said, and she held out her hands helplessly. "It was Fred. It was different."

"It was different," said Katie. "But that doesn't mean that it was better. And until there's a reason, we need to let Alicia make her own decisions." She grabbed one of Angelina's hands. "I think you would like Kira, if you gave her a chance. She's a lot like you, I think. Headstrong, passionate, and she knows more about fashion than Alicia and I ever would."

Angelina sniffed. "I still don't trust her."

"I'm not asking you to," said Katie. "All I'm asking is for you to give her a chance. She makes Leesh so happy, you know. If nothing else, trust in that."

"Fine," said Angelina. "I'll give her a shot."

"We can talk to her after the game, maybe," she suggested.

"Oh, right, the game. That was where this whole mess started. Sure." She paused. "If Alicia can't come, who are you going to bring?"

"Oh, I don't know said Katie. One of your other favorite people perhaps—I was thinking of asking Oliver."

Angelina groaned and pressed her head in her hands. "You're killing me, Katie," she moaned.

Katie patted her on the shoulder. "It's for your own good."

Angelina opened her eyes blearily. "Lucky for you I have to be at work soon. Otherwise, we'd have to argue over that too."

Katie stood up, scooping up her plate to bring to the kitchen sink and performing a quick scourgify. "Yes," she said. "Lucky me."