Will you slam shut or free your mind?

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael confidently strode through the entrance to Knockturn Alley; that was the key, he'd found, to passing inconspicuously into that place, look like you didn’t give a damn about being spotted there. Making sure his long black coat’s collar was up he continued onwards past several shop windows that he preferred not to look into as the wares they showcased were a little creepy, to say the least. He would never for the life of him understand why those on the Dark Lord’s side would choose to meet/scheme/plot in such a dingy place; most of them were Pureblood, he thought they’d appreciate sophisticated and clean surroundings. Apparently not.

His nose wrinkling up in disdain he paused outside Borgin and Burkes, only glancing into the shop long enough for the old man to see he was there and so head off to send a message to Michael’s ‘contact’ letting them know that he had arrived. Sighing somewhat at the necessity to do such things through a chain of people (as far as he was concerned this meant more people who could later drop him in it, if they were so inclined), the man leaned back against the front wall and crossed his arms casually, his eyes narrowing as he watched the very few people, most of them highly suspicious looking, who shopped in Knockturn Alley.

((ooc: Okay so it’s rubbish and the title was completely decided by what I happened to be listening to... but Michael has a sort-of reason to be there and is... there so ready for Shannon when you are!))

[Shannon Walsh]

Shannon's black heels clacked loudly against the cobblestone as she strolled along Knockturn, carrying a box of wares that had once belonged to her incarcerated husband. She was completely inappropriately dressed, in her usual MILF-y way, but particularly compared to all of the hooded cloaks and long overcoats moving around -- didn't hags and inbred lowlifes come out of their caves long enough to realise it was summer? -- but she still kept her long, manicured fingers curled cautiously around her wand. The Knockturn Alley of the eighties was her original stomping ground, and while she hadn't deigned to return in years, a part of her missed it slightly. She was willing to bet it wasn't even as good, now. There were probably artists and hipsters moving in for cheap rent, and in ten years it would be another cutesy, insufferable neighbourhood like Hogsmeade.

Recalling exactly where Borgin & Burkes stood, she fixed her hair in the glass front before her eyes drifted to Michael Lehrer's familiar form. She suppressed any reaction that may have come bubbling to the surface and simply fixed him with a raised eyebrow. "Now, what's a dainty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" Shannon asked coolly while flicking a nail at him.

[Michael Lehrer]

As he heard a very familiar voice, Michael checked his reaction and looked at the blonde woman with a carefully constructed expression of mild amusement. "Ah, dearest Shannon! You know, I could ask you the very same thing but... well... you never did dress or act in a particularly 'dainty' manner and I suspect that things have not changed... or else I shall be extremely disappointed," he noted as his gaze flicked up and down her, meeting her eyes once more. No, she certainly wasn't the type to enjoy pink frilly dresses and talk of afternoon tea, not unless putting on a very good show... and, to be fair, they were both old masters at putting on a very, very good show. He was of course entirely aware he hadn't attempted to answer her mockingly-expressed question but often deflected attention aware from himself in such a manner.

Uncrossing his arms to instead dig into his coat pocket he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, "Cigarette?" he offered with a shrug of explanation, "Something of a force of habit with you around, I feel," he smiled as he held it between his lips and flicked the lighter deftly to light it. After exhaling a steady stream of smoke to one side he held the glowering cigarette and turned his attention to the box she carried in her arms. "Disposing of something hmm? And in Knockturn Alley nonetheless! My, my how very... suspicious," Michael murmured, not being able to help but smirk somewhat - yes she appeared every bit the same Shannon he remembered, except for one rather obvious difference. "How are you uh 'coping', as they say, with everything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and mirroring much the cool look she'd just given him as he inhaled the cigarette for a moment.

[Shannon Walsh]

Shannon rested the box on the pavement, protectively digging the sharp toe of her shoe into the top of it. "Well, god forbid I disappoint you," she muttered sarcastically as she pulled a cigarette from the packet, holding it out for a light. "I would have expected you to have a little errand boy run out here for you, that's all," she drawled, her lips pursed to the side.

"It's not like I'm disposing of a body, darl. It's an utterly ordinary transaction. I know what things are worth, and I know where they will be properly appreciated," Shannon exhaled boredly, glancing at him through the curtain of dark fringe that draped over her left eye, briefly resting her hand against her neck. "How am I 'coping'?" Shannon scoffed and rolled her eyes before continuing, "With what, being here, talking to you? Quite poorly. I fear I may lash out," she smirked at him before shrugging it off, casually blowing smoke from the side of her mouth as she answered, "Well, you've said it yourself, didn't you? Some of us never change."

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael couldn't help but chuckle with a shake of his head at her sarcastic mutter. "I doubt you'd ever allow me that satisfaction," he commented casually as he lit her cigarette too. Then, adopting a thoughtful expression as he took a drag of his cigarette, he paused momentarily, "Hmm a little errand boy you say? Well, no, sadly. You see, he's out somewhere picking up my lunch and dry-cleaning for me so I had to brave the big ol' world myself," he informed her in a faux-serious manner.

Raising an eyebrow at her, "Well you never know, it's amazing what passes through that shop," Michael nudged his head to Borgin and Burke's that they were standing in front of. "Aaah I see, so it's just a business call? Oh, absolutely, yes, you certainly know where to go if you want something appreciated as it ought to be, as it deserves to be," he agreed quietly, holding her gaze meaningfully for a moment before he forced himself to look away and blew smoke out to the side. He didn't expect her to treat his genuine enquiry with any semblance of sincerity but, still, he felt the need to ask it. Letting out a sigh at how laborious it could be talking with her, Michael frowned, "You know what I meant, Shannon... the whole Azkaban business, both your sons leaving home etc. etc. Though admittedly it is a wonderful defence mechanism, all those marvellous quips so typical of Shannon Walsh," he then conceded with a small smile.

[Shannon Walsh]

Shannon smiled just slightly, sliding the box around with her foot. She'd probably think her little comment was a lot less funny if she knew that her older son would probably jump at the chance to be an 'errand boy' for someone in Michael's position. "Doing your own dirty work? You must be in worse trouble than I thought." Shannon placed her hand on her heart and asked condescendingly, "Sweetie, do you need my help?" Michael knew better than anyone that Shannon resented being relegated to trophy wife status, lunching and planning charity banquets while all of the idiots in her life mucked things up for themselves.

Shannon caught Michael's meaningful look and narrowed her eyes very slowly. If she was going to keep getting drawn back to him, she wasn't going to make it that easy. "I also know that 'business calls' mean nothing," she remarked casually as she flicked her cigarette. It was disingenuous to say that she never changed, really: every time she experienced loss or pain, she'd callous over once again, her defenses becoming less penetrable every second. "Save it for the sympathy card, Lehrer. Bitch on the outside, bitch on the inside. Worse than you could begin to imagine," she said with a slightly teasing, challenging edge.

"What's your story, then? Wife? Cheap whores?" she asked curtly, adjusting the bracelets on her arm.

[Michael Lehrer]

Chuckling heartily then he shook his head, "Not trouble, heavens no... would I ever be in trouble?" he asked incredulously but with a soft smirk at the idea. He still maintained that he'd just hung around with 'the wrong sort of people' - he hadn't entered into politics with the intention of being in cahoots with Deatheaters. Fixing her with an unimpressed look as she was condescending, he snorted softly, "Now why on earth would you offer your help to anyone, even condescendingly so? I suppose, on reflection, it is the only time you'd ever use such terms of endearment so I ought to consider myself honoured," he admitted. "I appreciate the offer all the same," Michael said after a moment of silence and then smiled briefly at her before tapping the cigarette to rid it of the excess ash.

Looking sideways at her, "Now, that is not strictly true since you haven't the faintest idea how bitchy my imagination could comprehend you to be," he countered light heartedly enough but, internally, he sighed exasperatedly at the thought; it really was impossible to express any kind of sympathy around her and have it taken seriously. He'd just like to know if she was actually okay but knew he would never penetrate that far through her hardened shell. Not unless he used Legilimency and he swore never to do that again with Shannon, once was enough to dissuade him for a lifetime.

"Actually, I'd like to think there was some sort of middle-ground option between the two. No wife, no girlfriend either... clearly I haven't quite managed to secure the affections of the right woman," Michael suggested lightly, "Casually dating though, wining and dining is terribly fun." Pausing then he regarded her carefully as he took a leisurely drag on the cigarette, "Dare I ask you the same kind of question? I did happen to uh- run into a certain young man in the Ministry who had some extremely scandalous thoughts... care to guess which woman was at the centre of those imaginings?" he teased, looking at her knowingly.

((ooc: I mentioned Tim just cos I figured eventually his mind might have strayed to Shannon while Michael was reading it. Plus it's quite good info for Michael to have over her, haha, and I assumed Shannon could be one of the few people who knew about Michael's Legilimency abilities.))

[Shannon Walsh]

"Excuse you, I'm a philanthropist. And I know a charity case when I see one," she smiled lightly while brushing hair from her face.

Shannon's utter disgust for sympathy was, unfortunately, a trait she'd carried throughout her life and one she'd passed along to both of her children. It made her feel weak. Armitages were not people you were supposed to feel sorry for. "Meanwhile, you've surpassed my wildest imagination for what a ponce you could be. Congratulations, there." She wondered if he'd ever dared read her mind, if he actually knew all of the messed-up crazy stuff she was constantly carrying around. She liked to think she was immune to Legilimency, that her defenses were too strong to be broken down.

"High-class whores?" Shannon asked automatically before shaking her head. "Proper politicians always seem to take an inoffensive wife, churn out a few kids. Like your 'mate' Simon... only hopefully your children won't all be gingers," she sighed. It was what Aaron had done... only the 'inoffensive' part was a big swing-and-a-miss. "It's quite alright, some people never find a partner. You could always get a cat."

Her eyes narrowed then: she wasn't opposed to flings with younger men, but couldn't tell if Michael actually knew anything. "How am I to know what goes on in the fantasies of clearly perverted, delusional young men? Was it one of those desperate, herpes-ridden Quidditch wives? Japanese schoolgirls? They're all the rage, according to those awful magazines I'll have to get rid of from Kevin's room before selling the house." She very casually indicated that she was moving on, trying to see if Michael would pick up on it. The divorce was finalised, but she'd been keeping this information to herself until the time was right and she knew what she was going to do next.

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael couldn't help but chuckle darkly as she mentioned being a 'philanthropist', "Yes, that you are... apparently. I always felt that your natural talent for severity was somewhat wasted when you became a, oh you know, 'lady that lunches' and plans fundraisers and what not," he mentioned with a slight sigh as though lamenting the years wasted on pretending to care about various causes as was the 'proper thing' for such upper-class wives to do. "A ponce? Wow... no one has called me a ponce in months," he replied with a roll of his eyes as he shook his head continually as though in disbelief that she'd countered his point with such an accusation. "Well there we have it, you're a bitch, I'm a ponce... you know what I really like about... 'this'-" he broke off to gesture vaguely between the two of them, "-is the insults, really, it's rather refreshing to be called a ponce to my face for once." Rolling his eyes once more for good measure after this, he exhaled smoke to the side, doing it so slowly it was as if he were savouring every last bit of it.

Smirking at this he shook his head, "No... decidedly not," he said simply. Hey, he may occasionally sleep with married woman, carry on affairs with people who definitely had boyfriends, or simply have a bit of meaningless sex with an intern in his office... but he had standards. "'Proper' politicians?! Ouch, Shannon, that really hurt," he laughed heartily, holding a hand over his heart as if such a lexical choice had seriously wounded him, " 'Proper' politicians also tend to cheat on said wife, often with rent-boys that they house in their second homes before all is leaked via a dodgy paparazzi shot or a kiss and tell in the gutter press so... it's not all that simple I fear. And the rather crucial difference between me and Si is that he actually met someone he wanted to make a lifelong commitment to on the basis of genuine love, it wasn't just because a trophy wife was the thing he had left to tick off on his list." Then, assuming a thoughtful look, "Somehow I don't believe a cat could quite fulfil the more intimate activities one would enjoy with a partner."

Michael regarded her coolly, "I suggest you stop insulting my intelligence with hilarious comebacks... you know fine well that I know, Shannon. I can now inform you that Timothy Mills has some quite specific fantasies involving a certain... 'philanthropist' but I cannot even begin to explain how bizarre it was to see such a thing through the mind of another bloke... I now understand why Legilimency is frowned upon." Then, casually tapping the excess cigarette ash off he realised something and his gaze snapped back to meet hers suddenly, "Wait... you're selling the house? Oh. And, dare I pry, whilst you are ridding yourself of the house, is there something else that you're also leaving?" he asked, trying to phrase such a thing in a borderline-teasing manner rather than just bluntly asking her if she was divorcing Aaron.

[Shannon Walsh]

Michael was right, of course. If Shannon was asked to plan another event to prevent the extinction of the hippogryffs, she'd go on a shooting rampage to ensure their extinction herself. "You're welcome," she smirked as he spoke of the insults they exchanged.

"What?" Shannon gasped, as if she had said nothing wrong. "You're almost a real politician, darling. I'm sure aaaalllll the pretty young interns fall for it." She closed her eyes and took a satisfying drag from her cigarette, feeling her mouth slowly curl up in a smile as Michael spoke of political sex scandals: it was only one of her hands-down favourite topics. She didn't believe in 'lifetime commitments' or 'genuine love' the likes of which Si apparently had with his wife, but she was starting to realise that she had... feelings for Michael. Ugh. How dreadful. "I was eventually going to accuse you of soliciting sex in public toilets, dear. You didn't let me finish." She leaned against the storefront before turning her head back to Michael. "Are you going to goad me into cracking a bestiality joke? It's far too early in the day for that. And it would work much better with a dog, anyway." Shannon let out a sharp laugh at this as she stretched out one of her legs, her heel scraping against the pavement.

She looked down at her nails as he spoke, trying to conceal her expression. So, he did know. Well. Composing herself, she shrugged and asked nonchalantly, "Well, can you blame him?" Shannon looked away then, thinking that maybe she'd be less inclined towards hilarious comebacks if he'd stop being a politician for a second and say what he actually meant. Hypocritical? Perhaps. "Is it really leaving if the thing you're leaving is locked away in a rotting cell?"

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael started to smirk in amusement as she seemed to think there was nothing offensive about calling him almost a 'proper' politician but his eyes narrowed perceptibly as she mentioned 'pretty young interns' falling for the act. "Ah, Shannon, you know me well," he admitted, inclining his head as if to acknowledge a hit. Damn, she knew him a little too well for comfort. He was starting to run out of pretty young interns though; his department unfortunately kept attracting go-getting young men to internships as of late. Though, their enthusiasm and work ethic was decidedly more fantastic so Michael supposed you couldn't have it both ways.

"Oh I know that. To be perfectly honest Shannon, that was rather the reason I brought it up before you had the chance to accuse me of engaging in something dreadfully indecent in a lavatory," he noted with a smirk. In his head he was briefly considering whether it counted as a victory against her and her wonderfully scathing insults. Turning to look at her, "Is it? I thought it was never too early in the day to crack a bestiality joke... clearly you're more knowledgeable about such things," he commented casually before laughing and shaking his head slightly, "So for the purposes of goading you into cracking a bestiality joke I should consider getting a hypothetical dog to replace the companionship of a woman? You know, the feminists of the world would probably have something to say about the insinuations of that."

"Can I blame Timothy Mills for fantasising about you?" he repeated the question, taking a moment to consider this before he shrugged easily and agreed, "Not really, no," before taking a drag of the cigarette, all of which was done to lessen such an admittance. It would be terrible for him to admit openly, and to her, that he cared for her. If they'd only had sex once, perhaps he wouldn't have fallen for her... or at least the whole fantasy mystique of sleeping with his best friend's wife might have been shattered immediately. But they hadn't done so just once and though the 'thrill' of the affair had shattered after the first few times, it had left behind something worrying in its place - genuine feelings, at least on his part. Realising he'd been momentarily silenced by Shannon's words, he exhaled the smoke and then turned his attention back to her, shaking his head, "I'm not certain, it's up to you I think... do you, for example, want the head-held-high satisfaction of being able to openly say 'Aaron, I'm leaving you' or are you perhaps more concerned as to what people will think if, or when, it gets out there? Because I'd imagine most people would respect your decision to 'leave'-slash-'cut yourself off from'-slash-'free yourself from' him," he shrugged as if it were as simple as that.

[Shannon Walsh]

"No insinuations. I'm fairly certain that engaging in relations with dogs would say more about you than it would about women." Shannon glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye before blowing smoke from the side of her mouth. "Of course, we all know how much you love bitches."

"He knows I hate him," she said coolly, waving her hand about. Even carrying on an affair with Michael hadn't proved a satisfying enough revenge... which meant that she had other reasons for doing it. Deeper reasons. Ugh. "There's no sport in cutting down a shattered husk of a man, especially when I wasn't even the one who got to do it to him. I do wish Owen had his father figure, though. My youngest has his... various drifters and vagabonds to look up to. Whatever. Owen didn't ask for this," she said, her face hardening slightly. Her oldest son was her one soft spot and it was obvious from the way she spoke about him.

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael's brow furrowed, "I've rather lost my train of thought, I'm afraid," he admitted casually with a shake of his head, "I can see the headlines now. Heaven knows there have been enough politicians caught out engaging in... questionable things... I'd rather not be one of that number. I'd like to be remembered for, oh I don't know, being a good head of department, not for shagging a dog." Coolly meeting her gaze he nodded once, "Of course I do... or it is just that bitches love me, hmm?"

"Does he now?" he raised an eyebrow at this before sighing somewhat. He wished he could say that he was truly upset that his friend had ended up in Azkaban but his only reason for despair was that, following the arrest, he no longer had a vaguely legitimate/innocent excuse for visiting the Walsh household. In hindsight, he reckoned he could have spun quite a good cover story for it all; he could have said he was consoling Shannon after the terrible shock of her husband being involved in such nefarious acts, they were sharing the pain of Aaron's revealed betrayal etc. etc. Instead he'd just distanced himself from it all, only saying 'I'm shocked, I truly had no idea that Aaron was involved in such things' whenever he'd been asked to comment on it. And that was as much thought as he'd given Aaron since then. Yes, clearly they were extremely close friends. It wasn't a surprise, really, that they weren't truly good friends... if they had been, how could Michael have just blindly betrayed his confidence by carrying on an affair with his wife?

"Is there not? Forgive me, I thought your cruel side, which has sadly not been allowed to properly shine in years due to your philanthropist lifestyle, might appreciate it," Michael said with a sniff as he looked away from her as she talked of her children. "Before this whole dreadful business, had Aaron ever appeared a father figure to either of them though?" he questioned as his gaze trailed unwillingly back to her and he shook his head slightly, "Look, I do not pretend to know your children or anything about them... I am aware that Kevin is off terrorising the Hit Wizards rather spectacularly and Owen, well... he's a credit to you, or so I've been told by some people at Mungo's. He's clever and meticulous about his work, I would say he's bound to succeed, father figure or no father figure, for what my opinion is worth... which I suspect is 'not much' in your eyes."

Then, though suspecting he'd be rewarded with some kind of glib comment for his sympathy, he continued "It is, of course, incredibly unfair that any of you were dragged into this, you didn't choose what Aaron chose and yet you were, or are rather, the ones being scrutinised by the wizarding world, it's extremely unfair that your names have been tarnished too," he let out a sigh at this, looking down at the barely glowering cigarette before tossing it on the ground carelessly. "So... what are we discussing now... a symbolic leaving of Aaron or legally leaving him via a divorce?" he asked, working very hard to give off an air of nonchalance about the whole thing, as he stepped forcefully, perhaps a tad too much, on the cigarette butt which laid on the cobbled street.

[Shannon Walsh]

Shannon snorted quietly and shook her head at Michael. "All the bitches love you. Save it for your rap career, darling."

It was true that Shannon had no idea where Aaron was and what he was doing 99% of the time, so that part of the story was believable, if nothing else. To the world, she was just a self-involved boozy gold-digger. It was an easy, familiar narrative, and one she'd fallen into rather easily. "I like my cruelty to be an earned satisfaction, dear. You don't go out on the street and call a whore a whore, do you?" She steeled her gaze, then, silently refusing to address Michael's question about Aaron as she flicked her cigarette nonchalantly. "I'm told Kevin is me. He wishes," she said finally, smiling almost imperceptibly at this. "Owen reminds me of Richard, sometimes. Something in the eyes." That was about as open and emotionally candid as she was ever going to get, so she didn't push that idea any further, and simply carried on like she found this whole conversation terribly boring and taxing.

"Have you heard of my family, darling? I think the 'tarnished name' ship has gone and sailed," she exhaled heavily. As much as she related to Michael and their shared instinct for self-preservation, it was times like this when she felt he'd never truly understand what she was born into. "I can't say I wouldn't have chosen it, at the time. Of course I was lumped in with the girls, you know, Celia and Alistair," she found this terribly amusing, and had to stop before continuing, "Of course, it's never something I wanted for my child. Children." She gave Michael a pointed look: she wanted him to know that she thought the whole business was foolish, and she was counting on him to make sure her oldest son stayed out of it. She couldn't help her brothers or her husband, but she'd give her life to protect Owen. "Divorce. It's final," Shannon said curtly. "I'm keeping the surname."

[Michael Lehrer]

Michael suddenly laughed heartily at Shannon's teasing. "I have ninety-nine problems but a bitch is not one," he quoted very seriously, altering Jay Z's lyrics so that they seemed to jar with his upper-class accent. "I think you'll find that I would be a tremendously popular rapper, Shannon," he said with an air of authority.

"Oh, forgive me, of course, what was I thinking?" Michael said, waving his hand as if brushing this away, "Well no, personally I don't go out onto the street and call a whore a whore because I don't live in that kind of neighbourhood, dear," he explained in a snobby tone, sniffing dryly and holding his head high. He noted that she hadn't even vaguely brushed off his question about Aaron's parenting skills, or lack of such, and took this as an admission of the latter. "Kevin is you? My, my, what a terrifying thought... hold on world," he murmured with a sly smile sideways at her. Then he sobered and nodded seriously, his head bowed somewhat as he answered, "Well forgive me for mentioning it but one can only hope Owen doesn't stray down a similar path to Richard's."

Snorting softly then, "Well alright, yes, the Armitages aren't squeaky clean but your sister and youngest brother seem to have come out of it all rather well. Although Alistair did have a little bump on the road when that... mystery child appeared, hmm?" he mentioned with an amused smirk creeping onto his lips. The rumour mill amongst the upper class wizards really had enjoyed that little scandal. "And your elder brother is... what... ex-Deatheater? In the Ministry? Who knows. He is terrifying to most I think... but I hear from a little birdie that he's completely, what is the charming teenage expression, completely whipped? That true?" Michael asked her casually. Sighing then he nodded once in a curt manner, "No one should wish that for their children." He was fortunate in that respect as though his family was fairly well-to-do, Pureblood to the very core, and his father had enjoyed an important position in the Ministry before retirement, they had never been particularly concerned with the 'high society scene'. Or the Deatheater scene.

"For my part.... however insignificant that may be... I will try to ensure Owen is only associating with the 'right people', shall we say," Michael added, "I'm sure Kevin would completely ignore any attempts to steer him in, or away from, a particular direction so I'm not so sure I'll be even halfway successful there but I can finally put my influence within the Ministry to good use, if you wish?" Then, he shrugged easily, grinding his heel into the floor as he stamped out the cigarette, putting far too much force behind it, "Well, well... good on you, I'd say. Keep the damn name, you deserve that at the very least." Then he glanced back up to her, "Alright so... what is the plan then? You're an intelligent woman, you must have a plan past the divorce or else you wouldn't be going through with it. Ohhhh... please do not tell me you're already eyeing up some successful chap to take his place?" he raised an eyebrow at this. He hoped the answer was no, for one very obvious reason he didn't like to admit to himself.

((ooc: Ugh, Michael talks too much, sorry about that! He probably likes the sound of his own voice... yeah I'm gonna go with that.))