August 29th, 1895; Afternoon — A Private Room at Black's Gentlemen's Club, London

"Edwin is late," Robin noted for the third time, punctuating his words with yet another glance at his pocket-watch. Of his brothers, he would have expected Flip to be the tardy one—if the ne'er-do-well showed up at all.

(Then again, Philip did like to keep the family on thier toes.)

The club had been selected for its neutrality: the wizard did not have to invite anyone into his home that he did not wish to (Philip) nor venture into the belly of the beast himself (also Philip). On arrival, Robin had cast muffling charms about the room before he had even removed his coat—the only way to hear what was being said was to be in the room where it happened.

His... caution was not because he had lycanthropy to hide. Indeed, Robert Rowle had rather naievely hoped that attending the Mulciber party would put that matter to rest and he might move on with his life. Instead, likely helped by rumours of polyjuice potions and other such subterfuge, the Wizengamot had chosen a more formal approach. Had Edwin not told him about one particular measure Gringotts used to foil would-be thieves, Robin might—indeed, would—have simply gone to the "party" at the bank and been done with it.

It washes away all enchantment, Edwin had said.

And they were planning to use it at the party.

Robin did not know for certain that his father believed the siblings still under his thrall, but had hoped by keeping a (relatively) low profile, they could count on some measure of infirmity in Algernon to keep them safe. If the aging, but sadly not dead, wizard was not given reason to break out his favoured Unforgivable Curse again, he wouldn't, and they would all retain their lives as normal. If, however, Algernon was given good cause to worry, however...

"No matter; we will have to catch him up. Philip, this summons is a problem."

Philip Rowle

  

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He had – rightly – assumed this little rendezvous would be some sort of strategy briefing, and not just a catch-up from the sincerest bottom of his brother’s heart. It had never been the latter yet. Philip might have stopped coming to these things, if riling up his brother was not always more fun in person than from a distance.

Though he hadn’t quite bothered to decide what Robin’s problem was exactly, yet. (He hadn’t taken more than a glance at the Ministry summons when he’d gotten it; and Robin was always worried about something.) So Flip gave a mocking, overdramatic sigh as he dropped into an armchair, not yet inclined to take this seriously, especially if Edwin, their other neurotic sibling, hadn’t bothered to show his face. “And I take it you’re going to take it upon yourself to explain to me why,” Philip drawled, though he would rather prefer Robin didn’t. “Is it your time of the month?” He doubted it; that would involve Robin actually being able to keep any of his problems to himself.

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Edwin strode in the room, drink in hand, looking subtly harried but unrepentant. He knew he was late and stopping to procure a healthy glass of brandy on his way through the club would have only made him more so but he knew this would not be the sort of meeting with drinks service. And hell if he was dealing with either of his brothers sober.

"Mature." he remarked dryly, taking a seat not next to Flip. "Do not scold me for tardiness." he added to Robin. "You set the time during office hours."

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perfection by MJ <3

Robin was saved from the indignity of a retort that would not be nearly as cutting as he would have liked (infuriatingly, of the two of them, Flip had been more generously invested with conversational wit) by the arrival of their youngest brother. Ignoring Philip's remark altogether, he gave Edwin a nod before continuing.

"Lucius Lestrange is a legilimens," the wizard offered. "With the rumours—however flimsy—that some people used polyjuice potion at Mrs. Mulciber's party, I have little doubt that he will be availaing himself of that ability during any interviews he conducts. Should those interviews be with us, certain details about when we were and were not so lovingly cursed by our father might become known to him."

Philip Rowle Edwin Rowle

  

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Philip raised his eyebrows, sufficiently distracted from the jeering he had been planning on Edwin’s entrance by that notion. An interview with a Legilimens. Regrettably, Flip now understood something of Robin’s concern.

“Then it’s a pity the Chief Warlock is just as likely to congratulate our father on his parenting decisions as to throw him in Azkaban for it,” he said slowly, bitterly. He may not know Lestrange Senior well enough personally to predict much else about him, but Philip did know they may well be as good as two peas in a pod, Lestrange and their father, one shrivelled old Wizengamot stalwart to another. No, justice could not safely be counted upon there, not necessarily against power and loyalty – the Chief Warlock finding out what precisely they were victims of would probably do the siblings no good in the end.

“So the little Gringotts do, is it?” he queried, looking from one brother to the other with a frown.

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   Aldous Crouch

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Pleasantly surprised that he hadn't be scolded or snipped at Edwin had thought it safe to take a drink from his glass and let his brothers get to the point. He nearly choked on that drink. He was definitely not one to sign up for extra chats with Lestrange but that had seemed like the easier of options until now.

"The Gringotts do can't be any better." he said with a grimace at the crass summation. "He'll know we're out then?" There was an unspoken 'right?' left hanging at the end.

"The Goblins barely blinked when I made the request." He mused, finally taking a proper drink. "Didn't even ask for anything in exchange. I think they enjoy our chaos."

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perfection by MJ <3

Edwin, it seemed, was not going to illuminate matters for their dear brother; with a resigned sigh, Robin did so instead.

"Yes, but as you so rightly pointed out," he looked pointedly at his brother, "the bank has it's Thieves Downfall. Washes away any enchantments—such as an Imperius Curse."

He could not let Flip know that he wished they had just killed Algernon when it was easy and unsuspicious.

"So we must assume some risk either way—Father will know for certain we are free if we resign," not to mention the societal scrutiny it would bring to their respective branches of the family, "and will no doubt think to... top up his influence if we go to the party. But then, there's Lestrange to consider..."

Philip Rowle Edwin Rowle

  

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— set by mj —

He screwed up his face, trying to understand just what Edwin was on about, he’ll know we’re out, until Robin explained.

Philip blinked as he caught up. Bollocks. And, much as he would happily resign and court any werewolf rumours (just to be rid of the job, really), he suspected the argument there would be that Algernon would never have allowed it, if they were Under.

“Well,” Philip said at last, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms as they faced this series of unfortunate options. He, at least, had always expected this day to come – for his father to catch on, to one day try and cast the curse on him again to rein him in. He was prepared to take his chances and fight the Imperius off face to face if he had to. Somehow he doubted his brothers would have had the forethought or the will to try resisting it, but then – Philip had never actually agreed to this option, anyway. So of course he had been working on alternative measures. “I’d say it was nice knowing the pair of you while it lasted, but...” he snorted unkindly. It was hard to say if either of his brothers had been any more fun unimperiused.

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Edwin had given up all fight and hope that he could leave his job long ago. For all their respective hells they'd been dropped into, one of the worst parts for him had been waking up as the Head of the Goblin Liaison office that couldn't speak a word of Gobbledygook. But that hadn't mattered. There were lives and reputations at stake. So when the summons had come resignation hadn't really be an option for him and he knew they'd need to avoid the waterfall. Now the final option had been removed as well.

He waved a baffled hand. "I'm not an Occlumens. He'll see in an instant I'm not qualified to be Head and go digging from there."

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perfection by MJ <3

Philip had never undertaken to resist a Legilimens before, but he had a little faith he might be stubborn enough to have a shot at resisting it, the same way he knew he could withstand some pressure of the Imperius now. And Robin might have presumed to be boring enough that Lestrange wouldn’t bother searching too deeply... but listening to Edwin’s panic made one thing clear: their most nervous brother wouldn’t last a minute without crumpling and letting the cat out of the bag.

So Flip thought he would still choose the party as the least bad option, but – Robin had assembled them here. Just to break the bad news? For once in his life Philip, quite against his nature, looked to his eldest brother minus all sarcasm – just in the vague, desperate hope Robin would have the answer ready. “No tidy solution for us, then?”

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