Like a Rolling Stone (Cas)

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

Elaine Dupree was dead, and Emmanuelle Picquery was beginning to wonder if it wouldn't be better for her to tie up her loose ends and get back to New Orleans sooner rather than later. She didn't have much business in sticking around; she hadn't meant to, anyway. There was little keeping her in the United Kingdom or Ireland, apart from the part where she was still employed at the Gaelic Knot. Moving on at the soonest opportunity was the better option, wasn't it? She'd done enough to keep Elaine going that she couldn't say for certain that she wouldn't have Aurors on her tail before too much longer, though most real evidence of her involvement with the Purifiers had gone up in flames with Elaine herself.

In all honesty, Emmanuelle missed the supplies she'd lost in the Purifiers' base more than anything else, but she could procure it all again, eventually. Maybe it would be better to take her next paycheck and use it towards getting transportation back to Louisiana, Emmanuelle considered as she restocked the shelves in the Gaelic Knot. It wouldn't be a "fresh start", but she would be going back to what she knew. There was that saying about not being able to go home again, and she guessed that it was partially true. She couldn't make up for lost time, but she could pick up where she'd left off.

Flicking a few loose strands of red hair over her shoulder, she contemplated it more. How much time did she have left with her grandmother, after all? She didn't want the woman who had raised her to find out all of what she had gotten into out there, she thought to herself, floating another box of inventory out to the front. Inside were some Japanese products that had just arrived, and Emmanuelle pulled a few items out to get a better look at them—just as the bell over the door chimed.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

20 May 2026

FIRE DESTROYS HOGWARTS, DUPREE TO BLAME.

The paper was already several days old at this point, but Cas still studied the headline intently as he scanned the article for new details. There was nothing printed that he didn’t already know, courtesy of Ana and Harry and every other Order member that had responded to the call. There had already been several informal debriefings since the burning of Hogwarts several days ago, and Cas knew it would only be a matter of time until the event hit the papers. Having the Senior Editor of the Prophet was an incredible advantage, but even Cade has his limits in what stories he could hold back. As for Cas...he had needed to hear the news secondhand, an irritating but necessary fact. It would have been the height of foolishness for Cas to show his face around Hogwarts, since he would have been more likely mistaken as a Purifier than part of the rescue effort. And he couldn’t blame anyone for making that association. A Karkaroff who worked in Knockturn Alley, who had centered his life around the acquisition and study of Dark and ancient artifacts? He would have arrested himself immediately.

No, there was nothing quite new in the article, but his eyes still lingered on the most troubling line. ‘All identified individuals have been taken into Ministry custody, including Asher Burke, Head of the Department of Mysteries.’ So…It’s finally starting, Cas thought grimly, tossing the paper aside and resting his forehead in the palm of his hand as he felt his head begin to throb. The most painful part. He’d known for years that this would be the inevitable result of the double life he was living. That there would be purebloods he worked with, had grown up with, called his friends even, who would be revealed ultimately as members of the Purifiers all along. The value of his participation in the Order, and Ana’s, had always stemmed from that inevitable truth. Cas came from a community of antiquated thoughts and ideals, purebloods who envisioned themselves as the best and most talented of magical society when that reality had long since disappeared. His work for the Order had always come with the caveat that either failure or victory would be a tough pill to swallow. They were playing a zero-sum game, after all, and somebody always had to lose. It was the game he'd chosen to play, and it didn't really have any winners.

But it was still difficult to confront that reality, and Cas wondered where his old school friend was now. Most likely in Azkaban already, unless the Aurors hadn’t finished with their interrogation yet. In all likelihood, Asher Burke would be facing the same exact reality his father had been confronted with all those years earlier. Death Eater, Purifier, blood purist. History really did repeat itself, and an uncomfortable chill shot down Cas’s spine at the fact. Tossing the newspaper aside had scattered all the papers on Cas’s desk, so he slowly began to collect and organize them into neat piles. It was easier to focus on the methodical task than to linger on painful memories he tried so hard to forget. Cas dreaded even the thought of his father, and it shook the usually unflappable pureblood to think of how much power his father had over him even from beyond the grave. But he paused at the sight of a worn business card, one that had been inhabiting his desk for months without any follow-up.

Emmanuelle Picquery, the Gaelic Knot. Cas could easily recall the peculiarity of that sale as he weighed the card in his hand. The foreign young woman with an encyclopedic knowledge of curses and enchanted artifacts. Most of his clients had no appreciation for the artifact itself, only what it could do for them. But that was wizardkind as a whole -- they used magic as a tool, without ever questioning the underlying mystery that they held in their hands or which ran through their blood. Emmanuelle had been different. She shared a love for artifacts Cas rarely saw anywhere else, and it kept the memory of their brief sale stuck in his memory. He had never gone to see her after they’d exchanged business cards, and he could be sure that the stray observations he’d made to Harry about her had never gone anywhere. Cas wondered if she’d had anything to do with the Purifiers, after all, or if she’d even stayed in the United Kingdom in the midst of all the chaos. His eyes drifted towards the discarded newspaper again before he steeled his resolve and left his office at a measured pace. Dublin was a few Apparition points away from London, but as he finally stood in front of the mysterious store that bore an uncanny resemblance to his own in its intended function, he didn’t pause before pushing the door open. He noticed her immediately, restocking the front of the store, and let his eyes sweep over the rest of the shop before returning to her.

“Well, it isn’t Borgin and Burke’s…but it seems the Gaelic Knot has been building a reputation for itself lately.” He would leave her to wonder about the deeper implications of what he meant.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

In walked Casimir Karkaroff, the gentleman who owned Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Emmanuelle only knew his full name because they had exchanged business cards one day back in… It must have been just after the first of the year, Emmanuelle thought to herself now that she considered it, but she hadn't seen Casimir since. She hadn't had a reason to go back into the shop, although she had been busy working on that favor for Aerick and Clodagh. It seemed as though it had been no time at all between when she had met with Elaine and her dragon egg and what had happened to Hogwarts and the Purifiers' base.

Casimir mentioned that it wasn't his own shop inside the Gaelic Knot. The items were maybe a bit harder to find but not "rare" in the same sense as the antiquities that he made available in his store. Most of what he sold at Borgin and Burkes, from what Emmanuelle had been able to tell, was either one of a kind or so uncommon that it might as well have been. In the Gaelic Knot's case, it was a way of providing people with items that were common elsewhere—just not easy to come by in Dublin or, say, Diagon Alley.

It wasn't as though Emmanuelle could take credit for half of it, anyway. She didn't own the Gaelic Knot; she just worked there. And now, long after she had first arrived, she was making her plans to leave the place for good.

She turned her head at Casimir's comment, focusing her attention on him. "It's a unique place," she acknowledged. "I'm guessing you haven't been in here before?"

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

As Cas studied Emmanuelle Picquery, wondering if she had ever been associated with the Purifiers or done any work for them…he found himself wondering if he even really cared. Cas was by no means an angel himself, or innocent of any wrongdoing. His storefront was legitimate, but it only acted as a thin veneer to hide the unsavory transactions that went on in Knockturn Alley and of which Cas was such an intertwined part. He regularly dealt in the black market, smuggling illegal cursed artifacts in and out of the country and taking care to ensure that his clients received all the privacy and anonymity they required to add to their private collections. He never checked what the artifact was intended to be used for, if at all, and he didn’t ask deeper questions when someone wanted to sell. Questions weren’t good for business, after all, and Cas’s bottom line was always the sale.

He didn’t really care, but he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he should. At any rate, it didn’t matter anymore. He certainly wouldn’t interfere with the Ministry’s investigation unless it threatened his own interests, and he didn’t care one way or another what happened to Emmanuelle. Cas didn’t owe her any loyalty – she wasn’t a Karkaroff, and her wellbeing wasn’t tied to his own. She had been in the middle of restocking some shelves, although her movements were slow. It suggested that she was distracted, that her mind was somewhere else completely and not focused on her work. Cas shrugged slightly at her question. “I’d always considered it rude form to spy on the competition,” he responded, slipping his hands into his pockets as he gazed around the shop openly. He didn't comment on his change of attitude, or what might have caused it exactly. He never discussed politics with strangers, at least complete strangers, and Emmanuelle was still an open question when it came to her loyalties. His attitude had never stopped him from studying his competitors anyway, at least more subtly, but Borgin and Burke’s had never faced a serious threat. They had a longstanding reputation in Knockturn Alley, and that was worth almost as much as their products to pureblood customers. The community was built on connections, after all, and a sterling reputation based on recommendations and word of mouth.

It was just the pair of them in the shop for now, although Cas didn’t judge much by it. In his own extensive experience, these sorts of stores didn’t rely on heavy foot traffic, or even on sales made during the daylight hours. Cas kept irregular hours with his own store, and could make enough to keep the lights on for months with one properly timed home visit. But anyway, he had long since expanded his sales to include more than just simple galleons -- because those were necessary, but so boring. Especially when the client couldn't appreciate the power and mystery of what he held in his hands. He imagined Emmanuelle must be learning much of the same here. He studied a finely carved jade figurine on a nearby shelf with a critical eye, casually keeping his attention off Emmanuelle for a few moments until he turned back to the conversation like no time had passed. “Sales must have slowed down in the last week,” he observed detachedly, “The press can be so bad for business, can’t it?”

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

"I’d always considered it rude form to spy on the competition," Casimir told her, and Emmanuelle turned around just in time to see him shrug his shoulders at her. He was far more casual then than she recalled his having been in Knockturn Alley, though she supposed that the change in location might have had something to do with it. The Gaelic Knot wasn't in direct competition with his shop, after all, nor did Emmanuelle own it to position it as such. Everything bought and sold there was perfectly legal—regulated more heavily because of importation at times, perhaps, but legal nonetheless—and a thousand times less likely to be cursed than anything that he sold to his customers in the dodgy part of magical London. They didn't really share a clientele, either. Maybe some of the purist crowd was in occasionally, but it didn't go both ways. Most people who shopped at the Gaelic Knot weren't there for the Dark Arts. That was where Knockturn Alley came in.

"Sales must have slowed down in the last week," he remarked as she continued stocking items. "The press can be so bad for business, can't it?"

"Hm?" Emmanuelle played stupid, pretending to appear too distracted by making sure that everything was in the right place to fully understand what Casimir was talking about. "Are they keeping the Druids from Hy-Brasil out or something now?" she wondered, her eyes briefly scanning the other side of the shop. "Sounds about right for Krum…" True to the store's name, a lot of what they sold there was Celtic, and half of it she didn't even know the purpose of. The only real shop that they supposedly had over there was essentially a general store, and that didn't really bode well for them.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

He didn’t blame her for playing dumb. He didn’t think she was a pureblood, or at least he wouldn’t trust any records that the Americans might provide on the subject. They’d lost their good standing in high-bred magical society a long time ago, and didn’t hold a candle to the ancient European families and their long lineages. But she still seemed to have some familiarity with this world, and what it demanded from those who belonged to it. Purebloods might find the Gaelic Knot tempting, after all, if they were searching for objects less likely to be flagged by the Ministry. And if she was involved in illegal activity, Cas had no doubt that she had friends in high places who knew how to keep their records clean. Purifier or not, you couldn’t survive in this business without that kind of guarantee. So he gave her a thin smile at her innocent question about druids.

“The druids know how to take care of themselves.” It was a shallow remark without much substance or any real concrete answer to her question, but it was true enough. The druids didn’t deal with Dark magic at all, but Cas still respected their commitment to their way of life. As a young cursebreaker, he’d been exposed to druid culture often enough by passing through their little settlements in the north, and he’d even seen Hy-Brasil a handful of times. They were a useful connection in their own way, and didn’t answer to mainstream magical society. Any Minister, even Krum, would find it difficult to subdue them. But it was still an interesting point that she thought to ask about them first, and Cas wondered at the level of interaction between Hy-Brasil and the Gaelic Knot. And how important the druids must be to their operations. He didn’t see a use for that observation yet, but he still filed it away.

In the meantime, he asked himself why he’d really come here. It wasn’t to find out whether Emmanuelle was a Purifier or not. Cas told himself that he was done with that world, the Order of the Phoenix and risking his life on a daily basis to do ‘the right thing.’ It hadn’t ever done anything for him, anyway, and there was no use for that kind of self-sacrifice anymore. Elaine was dead, the good guys had won, and he was left in limbo while the pureblood community shattered to pieces. Again. Hooray. But it meant that he wasn’t quite sure why he’d come to see Emmanuelle. Perhaps just searching out a kindred spirit. At any rate, Cas experimentally picked up one of the little figurines after confirming that he couldn’t sense any trace of a curse. Boring, but safe. He observed idly, and a little more directly, “Hogwarts seems to have been an important institution here. But that’s the British. They get so attached to things.” Durmstrang had been harder and colder, and the magical community in Prague – well, he’d learned early on not to grow attached to anything. That was weakness, and easily exploited. And he wasn't so easily misled as the British into caring for things that could only be taken away later on.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

Casimir mentioned that the Druids could take care of themselves, and Emmanuelle gave a bit of a nod in response. It wasn't full agreement, mostly because it was too difficult to ascertain what his point there was. Of course the Druids could take care of themselves. They'd been doing it long before the Ministry had inserted itself into every facet of their lives that it could. That, however, didn't seem to be his point, just as she hadn't actually had any concerns about whether or not a Druid could still come into the Gaelic Knot and buy whatever it was they needed that they couldn't get into their little port.

"Hogwarts seems to have been an important institution here," said Karkaroff, seemingly without any prompting. If this guy was a Legilimens, Emmanuelle thought, he was a damn good one. There was something in him, anyway, that knew she had been pretending to be oblivious to the destruction of the school. "But that's the British," he went on. "They get so attached to things."

"Nothing wrong with gettin' attached to things," Emmanuelle considered with a shrug of her shoulders. She hadn't been the one to destroy the castle. It wasn't like she held any strong feelings about Hogwarts—just as she didn't for Ilvermorny or anywhere else, at least not where schools were concerned. Besides, people had to feel some sort of attachment towards objects, or else they wouldn't bother buying anything. "As long as you're not a hoarder or whatever. Bottles of butterbeer stacked in a garage somewhere."

She was still a little bit frustrated that Elaine couldn't have given them enough notice to get their belongings out of the base; she would have liked that stuff back if she could have gotten it. Rue had scolded her, too, in that regard, though that didn't stop her from caring about them despite knowing how disposable they all were to Elaine and to each other. She knew that they were going to get screwed over eventually in some way, somehow. She hadn't lived in a state of paranoia over it, but she wanted to get back to New Orleans before anyone decided that they would start to turn people in.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Cas shot her a dubious look at her claim that there was nothing wrong with getting attached. She was impossible to read, and he couldn’t decide whether she was being deadly serious or not. Her face was controlled, her body language casual as she lingered by the box she had been unloading. Good qualities when you worked in a business as secretive as theirs, but it was a challenge. He had to step carefully in this conversation, because it wasn’t immediately obvious when one of them might misstep or say something revealing. But at any rate, he couldn’t believe that she might really think that. Attachment, affection, emotion – these were weaknesses. Even purebloods were only human, and occasionally fell into the trap of becoming invested. Cas did care for his siblings, even if others might not call it love in the traditional sense, and he’d found himself caring about other things too. The Order of the Phoenix, and Claire (although he felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of her).

“On the contrary,” he murmured, setting the figurine back on the shelf, “A downfall always starts with attachment. One seems almost helpless to stop it, once the dominos start to fall.” It was a cryptic statement, and Cas had been carefully avoiding eye contact, but he turned his head slightly so he could gaze sharply at her. A businessman in his position – well, they always knew more than what was good for them. Not exactly the recipe for living a long and happy life…but it was the right way to gain power and influence, and Cas was interested in developing plenty of both. And even if Emmanuelle was still a mystery, she was also only human. So was he. And since they were both certainly not amateurs in their field, there were some understandings that didn’t need to be said out-loud. He suspected things about her, where her loyalties might have been. Maybe she even suspected something about him too. At any rate, it didn’t matter much anymore.

It was almost a relief to return to subtle comments and insinuations, because it was more of Cas’s style and what he knew. Ever since the fall of Hogwarts, and the disbanding of the Order, his life had been full of raw emotion and honest conversations. It was draining, and had exhausted him, and went against his naturally secretive nature. So there was almost something relieving about poking at Emmanuelle now about what had happened, with the full knowledge that he might leave at any moment and never see her again. Despite how it might seem at times, Cas had never been good at ‘permanent.’ It was one of the things that had attracted him about cursebreaking, the freedom of it and how quickly everything could change. His family had been the only thing Cas had ever committed to, and even that chafed at him like a prison he couldn’t quite escape. One he had chosen to allow to consume him completely. And Emmanuelle – she would only be another passing curiosity, in the end. An enigma he wanted to solve and then move on from. He scrutinized her closely, waiting to see how she would answer.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

"On the contrary," Karkaroff countered her, sounding put off. "A downfall always starts with attachment. One seems almost helpless to stop it, once the dominoes start to fall." That might have been his personal philosophy, but Emmanuelle didn't think that was the case. She had a strong attachment to her family, with the exception of her mother, and didn't think of herself as being in the wrong for that. The way that he eyed her, though, was unnerving enough that Emmanuelle had to question if he was a Legilimens and simply hadn't verbalized it. She really didn't need to have her brain picked through by somebody else. Even if the actions that she had taken as a Purifier might not have been as incriminating as they were for some, she didn't want her involvement with that to get her into hot water.

"…Can I help you find something?" Emmanuelle asked Karkaroff directly, wondering what he was getting at with his fixation on developing attachments. It was difficult for her to maintain her focus on her work with his loitering there, and she took a moment to pile her hair into a high bun so that it would be out of her way. You're obviously not here for the jade figurines, she thought to herself, hoping that he would get the message if, in fact, he was analyzing her thoughts as they spoke. They didn't really carry self-help books, either, but he probably could have done with one of those. Still, he had to have come in for some purpose.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

This was Cas’s world – secrets, hunting down leads and picking at threads until they began to unravel and show him the truth. He’d left behind the world of cursebreaking for a different kind of dangerous entirely, but he still enjoyed the thrill of stepping into an unknown world and forcing it to reveal its secrets. He’d never set foot in the Gaelic Knot before, and Emmanuelle was obviously quite talented at keeping her privacy intact and her thoughts to herself. But he still felt in his element as he examined the jade figurine and set it back on the shelf. He’d lost control of conversations before, to people who were exceptionally good at provoking him and his temper. But he had a firm grasp on it now, and Emmanuelle’s question was more blunt than anything else she’d said thus far. Maybe she was even a little nervous, unsure what his intentions were?

He shrugged slightly. In his line of work, Cas doubted there were any artifacts he couldn’t find himself with enough time and dedication. Acquisition was a specialty of his, and he’d developed more than just a taste for rare and powerful artifacts. It was an academic curiosity that drove him, a hunger to unlock the secrets of magic that most wizards never gave a second thought about. But he was here for a reason, even if he couldn’t quite define it himself. Some unanswered questions that needed to be settled for his own peace of mind. “I always keep an eye open for druid magic,” he answered, “Although that can be difficult to acquire. I’m sure you understand why. Perhaps you’ve heard of something that would be worth my time?”

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

When she asked him more pointedly if she could help him find something, Karkaroff merely shrugged his shoulders in a way that would have been infuriating if they were anywhere else. It was the kind of thing that would have gotten him tortured, if not killed, back with many of the other Purifiers, though the chambers that had once housed those who were unlucky enough to cross the more aggressive members were no more—a blip in Emmanuelle's memory. He mentioned, however, that he always kept an eye open for Druid magic. "Although that can be difficult to acquire. I'm sure you understand why." Druids didn't use money except when they were off Hy-Brasil, for one thing. Emmanuelle had thought it was weird at first, but she also didn't travel to the island herself. Between the fact that they kept their own borders separate of the Ministry of Magic's and the fact that they looked at anyone who so much as mentioned anything "Dark" as though they had committed murder in cold blood, it was easier to arrange for imports and leave it at that. "Perhaps you’ve heard of something that would be worth my time?"

"Well, we got some healing supplies in from Hy-Brasil," Emmanuelle noted. "Nothing the Healers at St. Mungo's will touch, from what I've heard"—and that was probably why those bottles had been sitting on a shelf for a week without having been sold—"but there're a few customers who come in looking for the stuff…" She, too, shrugged. What could she say? It really wasn't all that exciting. "Some old lady swears by this mushroom extract for her migraines. I don't know." At some hundred years old, though, she probably couldn't tell the difference. "We got some rare potion ingredients in the same shipment," Emmanuelle then added. Having so many magical creatures living on that island was good for something. "The dragon blood was gone almost as soon as it came in, obviously, but I think we still have some Acromantula venom." If anyone would be willing to cough up the kind of money needed to purchase that, she was looking at him.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Americans were a curiosity to someone as deeply entrenched in Europe’s pureblood elite as Cas – an oddity that couldn’t be found around ‘decent’ company until you began to search around the edges of what (and who) might be considered proper. He never did much business with American wizards, although he had no doubt that some of his store’s merchandise had found its way across the Atlantic over the years – since even a young and somewhat rough-edged magical community had its need for Dark and mysterious artifacts. He’d gotten a taste of that rather blunt and pushy American attitude in his trip to New York and Boston searching for answers about the magical dampener, and that had completely satisfied his curiosity (and tolerance) for the United States for quite a while.

Now, he wondered if his limited exposure to America might be a weakness in a conversation like this one. Emmanuelle didn’t seem to be hiding anything – her merchandise, her thoughts, her involvement in any less-than-pure business. But Cas’s experience with Europeans, at least, had taught him that nobody ever truly spoke their mind…unless Americans really were that careless? Cas didn’t listen with much interest at her description of healing supplies that had come in – the druids were talented with Healing magic, no doubt about that, but it didn’t quite fit the needs of his usual clientele. Besides, there was so much more that the druids could do that sometimes toed an uncomfortable line between appropriate and forbidden. Life magic could accomplish much more than curing migraines, if you put your mind to it. “Magical plants grow differently in Hy-Brasil. Some wizards would give their right hand for a chance to study them,” Cas observed neutrally, although he himself was not one of those. Borgin and Burke’s wasn’t a greenhouse, after all.

But potion ingredients? Maybe. His store wasn’t an apothecary either, although he did sometimes scout out certain ingredients upon demand, or if they had potential uses in Dark potions. Acromantula venom would certainly do the trick there – it was a powerful substance and therefore expensive, and while Cas liked to take charge of his own acquisitions …well, he’d never willingly go near such a volatile magical creature. “Hm,” he commented reservedly as he let his gaze travel across a display case, “Acromantula venom has very limited uses. I can’t imagine you’ve found very high demand for it.” He couldn’t deny that he was interested, if only because the opportunity to purchase even a small vial was rare. But he’d never dare admit that so early in a negotiation – even with an American.

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

Emmanuelle wasn't a Herbologist. She knew how to make use of certain plants, but she wasn't an expert in handling them. It didn't seem that Casimir Karkaroff was one, either, though he brought up that plants grew differently on Hy-Brasil. Somehow, Emmanuelle couldn't really see the man doing Druid mushrooms, but maybe he had had a rebellious phase in his youth.

"Hm," Karkaroff voiced as the subject turned to Acromantula venom, though Emmanuelle couldn't tell if that was because he had actually considered agreeing to purchase some of the venom. As he mentioned, it wasn't very useful for most people. Creating some sort of antivenom was about it, probably, but most people weren't handling giant spiders on the regular.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" Emmanuelle wondered, not that she hadn't already asked him a variation of the same question previously. "We've had some other items in from Hy-Brasil lately, too, not all of 'em special orders…"

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Cas didn’t make it a habit to walk in to new situations blind. He did his research, and that was one of the benefits of taking over Borgin and Burke’s – the store had a long memory. Business relationships that went back decades, contacts in just about every field and country you could imagine. A way of doing business that was universal, which meant the store’s influence was just about universal too – if you could be bothered to get creative about what to do with that kind of legacy. But he hadn’t quite done his research when it came to Emmanuelle, or the Gaelic Knot for that matter, and his caution warned him against committing to anything. His family might have rolled their eyes at Cas’s usual paranoia, but it had kept him alive and undiscovered by the Purifiers all these years. So he’d trust his gut.

And in this case, it told him Emmanuelle Picquery wasn’t as dumb – or innocent – as she seemed. She asked him again what he was looking for, still being as evasive and vague about anything besides the merchandise than when he’d first walked in. It might be a smart move if you were looking to avoid detection from suspicious clients (or undercover Ministry) but it wasn’t how Cas did business. The pureblood world was all about connections, and personal ones at that. Nobody ever quite trusted anybody else, but you had to know what their game was. She hinted at other items from Hy-Brasil, although the lack of specifics this time caught his interest more than simple acromantula venom.

“I rarely make a sale on the first meeting,” Cas said pointedly, still not quite being straightforward (it wasn’t his style), although it was obvious that veiled comments didn’t work here. He didn’t see the need to flex his experience for newcomers that often – everybody knew him in the circles he ran in, and they knew the Karkaroff name too. But he didn’t like how rushed everybody seemed to be these days, and how much it was carrying over into business too. It wasn’t the right way to build an empire, although most latecomers to the game weren’t much interested in that anyway. He continued in an even tone, although the words themselves could almost be called accusatory. “It’s important to know who you might be doing business with. The accounts I’ve received on you are…contradictory. That’s a bad sign for determining a person’s nature, or their credibility.”

emmanuelle antoinette picquery

[emmanuelle antoinette picquery]

May 20, 2026

"I rarely make a sale on the first meeting," Karkaroff commented, as though they were making a transaction in some shady corner of Knockturn Alley under a flickering street lamp and not in a business that would have fired her if they knew about the things that she'd been doing for the Purifiers on the side. "It's important to know who you might be doing business with," he added. "The accounts I've received on you are… contradictory. That's a bad sign for determining a person's nature, or their credibility."

Emmanuelle raised a brow. She wasn't sure from whom he had been hearing things about her, and she wasn't sure that she cared to ask. She wouldn't have been surprised if there were snitches within the Purifiers, and that was yet another reason why getting back to New Orleans and putting all of that behind her would be a smart idea. She felt pretty confident, at least, that it wasn't Rue. "I don't know what you've heard," she acknowledged with a laugh, "but I don't own this place. It's been around here a hell of a lot longer than I have." And it wasn't going to collapse just because they would need to hire somebody else to do her job. "If you're just browsin', that's fine. Just let me know if you change your mind."

Casimir Elias Karkaroff