Hawke raised a golden eyebrow as he watched the woman's clothing dissipate into something that seemed far more fitting in regards to what little he already knew of her . . . which wasn't much. She was cunning in ways he couldn't quite pinpoint and even though he remained on guard in her presence, Hawke couldn't help the feeling that he was being manipulated, as if he were doing exactly as this woman wanted. The link whispered that she was powerful, respected, but he didn't need Albiorix's memories to see that. He could feel it, especially as those pale eyes bore into his own with a magic that Hawke found difficult to understand. The previous innocent blue dress had suited her icy demeanor about as well as Hawke might fit into frilly ruffles and lace. Which he didn't. Still, as the woman's appearance seemed to waver right before his eyes . . . Hawke puzzled for a moment over what sort of illusion he currently gazed upon as he swore her features grew younger, the deceptively comforting voice toning in the false name he'd chosen.<br/><br/>Hawke hissed as he felt a wand digging painfully into the small of his back, but stubbornly stood his ground. However, though his reticence hadn't left him, the blond couldn't seem to find his voice. Although as Analiese drew nearer, Hawke found he no longer wanted to fight the wand pushing him forward. In fact he felt drawn to this woman as he stepped towards her of his own free will. Or did he? What was this . . . magnetism?<br/><br/>It suddenly occurred to him that he'd felt this pull several years ago, once before at a quidditch match. Bulgaria versus Spain. And of course everyone knew the Bulgarians' mascot. Hawke almost laughed aloud at his own foolishness before closing off his mind like a vault, once again surprised that a Veela's charm could affect him at all . . . his sexual preferences considered.<br/><br/>His mind more clear now, Hawke focused on the woman's words. Intentions towards Albiorix?<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">What kind of question is that?</span> </i>Arrest him, of course, for the murder of Frederick and for treason in serving the Dark Lord. Or kill him . . . to sever this link he'd drunkenly initiated while on a joke of a date in the dark corner of a pub. Truthfully, however, now that he honestly considered his intentions, he wasn't rightly sure. Perhaps with his mind full of the other man's memories he couldn't help but think about him. And that thought disturbed the auror greatly.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"My intentions . . . "</span>He'd found his voice it seemed.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b300">"You have such a pretty face, another of Albi's playthings?"</span><i> <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I'm no one's plaything.</span></i>The indignant words almost left his lips, but he bit them back, reminding himself that he was not in charge here, especially with those pale eyes staring deeply into green. Hawke could feel the all-too-familiar caress of another mind tapping at the windows of his own. And as resentful as he might be of the mere thought of admitting such a lie to Albiorix's mother of all people, this could very well be the alibi he so desperately needed.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#59b300">"Answer truthfully, for I will know if you lie."</span>Perhaps Analeise might see through Hawke's words like water, but she wouldn't be able to refute visible evidence. And that, Hawke could certainly fabricate.<br/><br/>Hawke forced his demeanor to change.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"I . . . " </span>he swallowed his pride and pushed onward.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"I must admit your son has me under a spell, as it were."</span>He dropped the wall, letting Analeise in long enough to see what he wanted her to see.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#5900b3">"Sorry I'm a little late, you didn't have to wait on me."</span> Abiorix chuckled as he slowly moved to sit in the wooden chair next to Hawke. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#5900b3">"Firewhisky please."</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Fashionably late," </span>Hawke let his eyes roam up the other suggestively. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"You're not a lightweight, are you?" </span>He nodded towards the man's mug. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#5900b3">"Oh, afraid so. Terribly light weight. Not even sure why I ordered a Fire Whiskey, suppose I like the taste, oddly enough. Cinnamon and dragon's tears I think."</span> Abliorix smiled confidently as he put the glass down. </i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>"I'm sure you've been told this before, but you have the most enchanting smile."</i></span><br/><br/>And now the hard part . . . Hawke dug further into the dredges of his mind, bringing up memories of faceless masculine bodies moving together. He certainly had enough material from his days in the academy.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> <i>Himself on his knees, a hungry gleam in his eyes and an even hungrier grin on his lips. The scene shifted. Blindfolded and breathless as his faceless lover moved within him. Shifting again. Himself on top this time, leading a trail of kisses slowly downward . . . </i></span><br/><br/>Hawke somehow didn't think it would be wise to lead this Death Eater to believe he'd fucked her son, and so he broke the memory off there, deciding Analiese had seen more than enough to make his false relations with Albiorix appear to be real. But now . . . now he had to play the part.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Don't . . . Please,"</span>he coyly broke eye contact, begging her to leave his memories alone as he played at being weaker than her.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"Those moments were never meant to be seen by anyone else."</span>Although the blush on his cheeks was legitimate now that he'd shown someone such intimate experiences. But at least the sacrifice of his dignity would be worth it. Or so he hoped.