Darius was not sure how he would just to living scrounging for food when he had first registered and had been forced to say at Kolna. The place was hell on Earth. It has was barely inhabitable but some people, namely the people who had decreed the registration thought it was ideal for muggleborns to live there. They had gone from living fair lives to living in hell and losing all sense of self-respect by living as they did. It was evident that were being told they didn’t belong and that deserved to be ostracized. Darius wasn’t comfortable with it and neither were his fellow muggleborns but for the most part. They were unable to do anything. Their wands had been seized and snapped and while they were able do still cast charms or perform spells, it wasn’t the same if it wasn’t your own wand.

Receiving his wand had been the first sign to Darius that he belonged in the magical world. Now he was being shown the door. While he had held a rather muggle job in being a DJ but that didn’t matter, everyone loved music regardless of which world they lived in. Darius had been proud of achieving what he had and he was proud of where he had been working. It was hard at times to secure a resident DJ position. So to be able to do this, it was wonderful. He missed his music terribly, he missed the freedom to just relax in his flat and create something with his mixing equipment or just sitting at his piano and playing whatever tune had been running through his head.

Darius hoped that one day, he would be able to get his piano back so he could return to doing that. But looking at his current situation he was unable to even afford fruit let alone a piano. Maybe his dreaming was wasteful but he had his dreams. They were all that made him smile at the moment with nothing else making him happy. Darius had walked in here hoping no one else would talk him, let alone question him. ”Nice to meet you, Anthony….can you help me out?” Darius hated appearing like a charity case but right now he needed help. Maybe Anthony would just help him buy what he wanted. He also desired something for headaches but even with the bloke being a healer, he wasn’t sure if he could help him out.

[/b][/div][/div]

Theoretically, Tamara living with her mother now was about the least problematic change that had happened since the Death Eaters’ coup d’État, and it sometimes made him feel guilty how much of his time he spent mulling over her absence. It was nothing the Death Eaters had planned, and compared to their other atrocities… insignificant. For everyone but him and Tamara. And Astoria, maybe, for if not… The Death Eaters were at least constantly reminding him of how far more horrible they were than just ruining his peace of mind. Every single of their actions had been horrifying — not exactly a surprise when the first thing they had done after seizing power was to burn their predecessor. Not saying Durant had been a very good Minister, not even a competent one nor, which was his most problematic if difficult to assess quality, a virtuous one, but at least he had most of the time been motivated by a sense of justice — a perverted sense, but still. He could understand that it was hard to forgive such crimes as the Death Eaters had committed. Durant had gone too far, though, so that the Death Eaters had ended up wanting revenge… maybe he was being prejudiced too. Maybe revenge had been all Durant had cared for… But he was overthinking things if he started making excuses for their crimes. The justice angle was completely missing with the Death Eaters, there could be no doubt about that. No Death Eater child had been hindered from going to Hogwarts or enslaved like the Muggleborns. That they were now allowed to go to some sort of school was not enough to make up for all the months they had been forced to work.

And nobody seemed to know what to do. Not even the Order. It felt like they were all suffocating from their inertia, and yet, nobody proposed a remedy. The DA had been more imaginative, and if it had just been putting up graffiti. Maybe graffiti wouldn’t be that bad nowadays… a sign of encouragement that the current situation was not alright… that there were those out there who disagreed… like back then at Hogwarts… but it would feel silly and childish to even suggest it. So what was left but to help individuals, should their ways cross? “I can’t get you a proper job or smuggle you out of the country,” he said to the young Muggleborn. “But if you need food — or medical help, of course — such stuff, I should be able to help.”

Darius held out hope that his current situation wouldn’t be like this for much longer but that was easier said than done. He tried to make sure that he kept his head above water where he could. He didn’t want to get on someone's bad side. Where his work was concerned, he made sure to do as he was told and to not question anyone’s authority, no matter how much he wanted to. He wasn’t one to cause many problems or to create any kind of uproar, even his personality had been far from quiet. Sure he was not quite at school but those days were longer, this was a new time. Darius knew he just to keep his head on his shoulders. That presented a problem for him sometimes because his head wanted to do something completely different from what his heart told him.

Feeding himself was a challenge most of the time, he had very little money and he knew he no longer had anything in his vault at Gringott’s. He wasn’t sure if he still had a vault there or not or if had been destroyed when he had registered. What would happen if somehow the registration ended and he was allowed to go back to living his old life? This was one of the many ‘What if’ questions that Darius thought about. Maybe he was just forever going to be an eagle.

There was nothing wrong with that, it just was so far removed from the life he had lived while he been free. He had indulged in women and in going out and being a DJ meant he had kept a very odd sleeping pattern. Now that he worked during the day in the mines during the day, he had to sleep at night and work exhausted him most days that he managed to get some decent shuteye. It was probably the only thing he was thankful for out of this whole mess. It was uncanny really.

Darius had been surprised to see that the man had even approached him. Maybe he just stood out like a sore thumb here. Was this just all over apples or something more? He felt like it was going to be the latter. "No, no, I wouldn’t ask you to do that, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It would be too much to ask you anyway. We’ve only just met” Darius didn’t know if they would even see each other after today. But if Anthony was promising to get him food and other basic necessities then maybe they would cross paths again. "Right now…...are you able to help me get some coffee?” He asked, trying not to sound too embarrassed by asking for something so small.

(OOC: yours to end babe!)

Things didn’t just magically work out fine in the end like in a childen’s story. Even if a child was the one suffering the most from the whole mess. If he could still call Tamara a child… she’d turn fifteen next January. She was continually growing up, and maybe, when he saw her again in the distant future, he’d have to realise that in the mean time she had turned into an adult — in the worst sense possible. That she wasn’t doing well was about all he knew. He couldn’t even hope that he was imagining things worse than they were. He should write and ask Astoria but… it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. It was not just that he thought Nott capable of anything, though that problem was definitely there. It was much harder to believe Astoria’s claim to want Tamara safe if the first thing she afterwards did was marry a psychopath. Not that he should go around and call people he hardly knew psychopaths. Especially as a Healer. It was unprofessional. And he didn’t care. Nott and his daughter were not safe to be around for anyone, and if it didn’t appear that it was her free choice, he’d be worried sick for Astoria. It was what she had chosen, though, and it wasn’t up to him to criticize what she did.

Astoria was adult, free to make her own decisions, and he might not like them, but he had to accept them. And he wanted to but… if only they didn’t concern their daughter this directly. It didn’t matter — or at least it shouldn’t — whether Astoria had been sincere, but if Tamara was in danger… it wasn’t like he could ignore that. And yet, there was nothing he could do. She’d soon be at a Death Eater-infested school again, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had thought she’d be better off, safer, with him as little as possible in her life. There had been no way to predict how Death Eaters would treat half-bloods, and then there was the whole thing with the Order… he remembered too well that Luna had been kidnapped because her father had supported Harry Potter. They hadn’t quite reached that point, and it looked like they wouldn’t. The situation was not as bad as it had been. Not that that was saying much. Getting tortured as a form of detention was hard to top.

As it was, the biggest threat to Tamara’s well-being was the girl herself, and he was responsible. He wasn’t there for her. Couldn’t be there for her. It somehow should feel good that he was able to help this young man a little, but all it did was remind him that he failed his daughter — which in turn made him feel guilty because this Muggleborn was in a far more dire situation than Tamara. And helping a little was simply, even if it was impossible to really help. But little was better than not at all, wasn’t it? “Certainly,” he therefore replied. “There’s a coffeehouse right around the corner, if that sounds good to you.”

---

End of Thread