Closed Lucky Break

[Lysander Summers]

Lysander really wasn't sure how he had managed to get here, as his eyes apprehensively wandered over the front door to Rupert Cresswell's home. Not here physically - he'd apparated most of the way - here as in this point in his life. Expelled, cursed, and now at the doorstep to the home of the Deputy Minister. The dude who was second-in-charge of the country's entire magical community. That Deputy Minister. A guy who probably had a small army of aurors at his beck and call, running errands and doing his grocery shopping or whatever they did when they weren't out arresting teenagers for tiny itty bitty little mistakes. Yet here he was, Dangerous-Criminal-Lysander, Almost Azkaban's Finest, someone who was unsure if he was still legally allowed to vote, let alone be in the vicinity of one of the government's most important figures. How had he gotten to this point? Who could have predicted this?

A small part of him still held onto the irrational thought that this was all some big elaborate sting operation to see if he was still hatching basilisks. It was a thought he brushed away as he raised his hand to knock. He'd learned his lesson the hard way. Besides, he was here to learn about curse-breaking. That was a good thing, right? Breaking curses was the total opposite of dark magic. He was turning over a new leaf, doing some good for the community. It just happened to be under the wing of Big Government. He took a breath and knocked. "Mr. Cresswell? It's me." He yelled out. Was he allowed to call him that? "Mr. Deputy Minister" sounded ridiculous. "Uh...Lysander." He added to clarify. He didn't know why he felt this nervous - his conspiracy theories about this being a sting operation aside. He'd met the man before, but being outside his home made it all feel that much more real. With everything that had happened, the stupid mistakes he'd made, he hadn't imagined he'd be able to get more from his life than working in the Menagerie. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to start on a new chapter.​

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

With his workload at the Ministry, Rupert's curse-breaking career had more or less ended. Gone on hiatus, certainly. He loved the work he had dedicated his life to - the adventurous years, the above board independent work, and his... less legitimate under the table dealings all the same. He thought back on the work fondly, and more than once had spent a forlorn night just wandering around his workshop, picking up various things and fidgeting with them, or digging into old books, refreshing his memory. He wouldn't be in politics forever, that was for certain, and Rupert was absolutely sure that the moment his time at the Ministry ended he would be right back here, where he belonged.

Not having the time to practice himself didn't mean his time in the lab was completely finished, though. He had taken on a small handful of interns over the years, but today's meeting was with certainly the most interesting candidate he had ever been contacted by. Lysander's.... incident had been around the time of the election, and Rupert had become quite familiar with the situation throughout the course of the debates, one question about safety at Hogwarts after another doing a good job of filling him in. He had jumped at the chance to work with Lysander when it came up, to see what this young man was like for himself. It was with a broad grin that he opened the door, appraising Lysander's nervous demeanour curiously. It was no wonder he was nervous - all first day interns were, and he couldn't imagine how many layers being a former criminal at the house of the deputy minister must add. "Lysander! Come on in, my boy." Rupert greeted him jovially, stepping aside to welcome Lysander in to his house. "Can I offer you a tea, or would you rather get right to the lab?"

 

[Lysander Summers]

Standing at the doorstep of the Deputy Ministers home felt to Lysander as if an eternity had passed, every second crawling by at a snail's pace, and when the door finally opened (less than a minute after he'd knocked, at most), he felt himself briefly tense, his fight or flight response cautiously lifting its head on the off-chance a handful of aurors did come pouring out through the doorway. It was ridiculous, and he knew as much, but he couldn't help his imagination running wild at the idea. He almost felt disappointed when it was simply Cresswell who answered, with how much his mind had hyped up the endless dramatic scenarios, but he relaxed quickly, returning the older man's pleasant demeanor with a friendly smile of his own. "Thank you." He greeted with a quick bow of his head. He stepped past the man, taking in the home he lived in, curious to see what kind of things a deputy minister - and a curse-breaker - kept in their residence. "Yeah!" He said distractedly. It took a beat to realise he hadn't actually answered either question, and he chuckled sheepishly. "I mean, yeah, I'd love to jump right into it, if that's alright."​

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Given his history, Rupert wasn't surprised that Lysander seemed jumpy, giving the younger man an indulgent smile. "Not to worry." He said reassuringly, clapping him lightly on the arm. "I appreciate the enthusiasm. A pupil who's eager to learn is always a wonderful asset." He led Lysander down the hall to the study he had converted to a work space years ago, now lying largely unused. The walls were lined with bookcases and shelves filled with components and equipment, a large table sitting in the room's centre. Rupert felt a small pang just looking at it - since arriving here Rupert had rarely seen that table empty of four or five projects at once, but since his election it had been sitting painfully barren. "Alright!" He clapped his hands to drive off the melancholy. "Where to start? I suppose I ought to take you through some of the equipment - have you read many books on curse-breaking?"

 

[Lysander Summers]

Lysander had not known what to expect from Cresswell's home. Admittedly, he had imagined something more opulent and expensive, red carpet, high ceilings with towering marble pillars and gold trim throughout. He had to remind himself that a deputy minister wasn't a king, and as he looked around the cluttered area, he realised Cresswell was kind of just a huge book nerd instead. It was certainly a fancy home, just not in the way he'd thought. There was no end to trinkets around that Lysander would have liked to get a better look at, and he had to stop himself from wandering around and picking up random objects. "Books?" Lysander repeated distractedly, eyes roaming over the intimidating amount of books he'd seen so far. No one had said that curse-breaking required so much reading. "A little, but not really. I'm more of a do-er than a read-er." He said. Most of the reading he'd left to Ryan during the time of the incident, though in part that may have been because he wasn't exactly in the best position to do any reading. "It took me being cursed to kind of get me into it to start with. But, you know, like, I read. I can read." He clarified quickly, concerned that it wasn't the answer Cresswell was looking for. He didn't want to ruin his chances before they'd started.​

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Rupert couldn't help the amusement creeping over his face at the younger man's fumbling. "Well, I'm glad you can, else we would have rather more work to do than I had bargained for." He chuckled lightly. "I'll loan you a few books before you go, in that case. They're ones I've had in my collection for some time, so I will need them back, but you should be able to pick up plenty of the fundamental concepts from them." He skimmed the bookshelves, a question nagging at him as he did so. "How did you wind up cursed, then?" He asked curiously.

 

[Lysander Summers]

Lysander mirrored Cresswell's chuckle, glad that despite things he seemed to be getting off on the right foot. He did feel some slight apprehension as he eyed the numerous books once more, wondering what the other man's concept of "a few" actually entailed. Even after leaving Hogwarts behind, and all the study that had come with it, he supposed there never quite was an end to learning, to his dismay. "Thanks!" He said, putting more enthusiasm into the thought of pouring over books than he felt. At the very least, this was something he wanted to learn about, not something he had to. "I'll take good care of them." He continued. It might not have sounded a difficult task for most people, but Lysander did live with a dozen animals, and after Kas' wand fiasco with the crup he knew he'd have to take extra precautions to keep any loaned books safely out of harm's way.

He should have expected it to come up sooner or later, but still he stalled at Cresswell's next question, cheeks flushing a slight shade of red before he spoke. "I, uh. I was at the Silver Snake - it's this shop in Bleak Street - and I was just sort of looking around, seeing what they had. They have these signs telling you not to touch anything, but, you know, every store has those. I thought it was just because some of the stock was fragile, you know?" He said, pausing to clear the sudden dryness in his throat. "Haha, so, anyway. Turns out that's not why the signs are up."

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Rupert gave a small smile at Lysander's faux enthusiasm, remembering his own younger days. "I know travelling around exotic places is the glamourous part of curse-breaking, but it does unfortunately come with a lot of homework as well." He said apologetically, looking around the office to make sure he hadn't missed any books that would be handy. The subject of Lysander's curse was far more interesting though, and he listened attentively as the young man described his situation. "Fascinating." Rupert smiled, idly wondering if it had been one of his own creations that had done it. Not outside the realm of possibility, depending on how long it had been. "Is it lingering, or were you able to dispel it? What kind of curse?" He asked, natural curiosity seeping into his voice.

 

[Lysander Summers]

Fascinating was one way to describe Lysander's situation, he agreed, though it wasn't a word that anyone else he'd told had used. His dads had a few, very different words for him when he'd come clean about the whole thing. "It took a while but we dispelled it. Mostly. Me and Ryan - he works there - we managed to figure out how to remove the worst of it. A store like that, I'm probably not the first person they've had come in and curse themselves, so there were a couple things on hand to help figure out how to undo it." He said with a light, if slightly embarrassed chuckle. He was lucky to have been in the right place to be cursed - if there was ever a "right place" for it, though he wasn't too sure what he would have done had Ryan not been there. He doubted other witches or wizards in Bleak would have been as happy to lend a hand. "I can't tell you what kind of curse it was." He continued. "It's not a secret or anything, I mean I literally can't tell you. Anytime I try to talk about the specific details my tongue does this whole thing and I can't get any words out. Like a curse on a curse? I guess it was to make it harder to break, like, no one can help if you can't tell anyone what's wrong with you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With how long it took just to dispel the worst of it, we just kind of gave up removing the rest of it since it wasn't as bad. It doesn't really bother me." He said. He could live with a minor curse. It didn't impact his day to day life, and only in rare instances, such as now, was it a nuisance. At the end of the day, it was a good excuse not to tell people he'd cursed himself.​