A bit of Fun- Max

[Eden Fletcher]

Being a private eye was both a liberating and exasperating experience. For thing there was far less rules and paperwork. Sure Eden had to keep some kind of record of her expenses and what she did for her clients but it was limited. No need for stuffed shirts to read detailed reports. No one to report every move to. No real time clock to punch. If she wanted to start her day at noon she could and often did. Sometimes she missed the comrade of working with a team of highly trained aurors. She missed the jokes, the adrenaline rush, the rush of feeling when she saved a life or took down a dark wizard. The work she did now was often tedious. Tracking down a thief that took off with the galleons, capturing a sordid affair on camera and procuring a rare item were some of the more common tasks she preformed. It had started out as a favor for an acquaintance and then it was a lark, something to pass the time. It wasn’t until Max came back that Eden had considered actually setting up an actual business. When he moved out of the apartment they shared and into Godrick’s Hallow Eden packed up her own belongings and moved into a small apartment above a little store front bordering Diagon and Knockturn Alley.


It was nearly a year since she had hung her wand out and she actually had customers. She was still funneling in her inheritance into the venture but she might even turn a profit in a few years. The money didn’t really matter to Eden it was the adventure, the need to use her skills to get herself out of tight situations and to do whatever her clients wanted her to do. It was actually rather fun. Especially when she could rope Max into being her sidekick. Publicly there were rumors that they were less than friendly but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eden didn’t get why the wizarding tabloids were so fixated on the fact that they were no longer flatmates. If you believed the Flying Snitch, they were no longer on speaking terms after Eden professed her love for Max having realized that he was her soulmate when he was missing and then he rejected her because he was in love with Rowena Covington. The whole thing was irritatingly useful. Her clients didn’t suspect that Eden sometimes used her bff for backup. A year after his dramatic return and the tabloids were still obsessed with him. It was rather ridiculous. It seemed that whenever he ventured out there was someone wanting a picture or a comment. His notoriety though could be useful. If everyone was looking at him Eden could sneak in and get the job done. She needed to get into the back room of the British Wizarding museum. She had been tracking a smuggling ring for several months. Apparenting artifacts were being smuggled in and out of Britain using Qudditch players and their attendants. More than a few players and their staff from various teams from around the world were involved. The items would be passed from player to player during different media events traveling around the world until they arrived to their destination. A priceless relic fro the Egyptian ministry had been stolen and they wanted it back. It was suppose to arrive in Europe that night. Eden knew Max didn’t like crowds but the event at the British Magical Museum wasn’t actually that big. It was a rather minor event. The splashy event was the Fashion Gala in Pairs happening the same night. Eden Fletcher had already made an appearance there on the arm of one of Qudditch’s greatest playboys and been captured on film snogging her way out of the event and through the lobby. They’d given the press quite the show in the lyfts.


It had been easy to enter his mind with legilimens. The man had really thought that Eden was into him. They had flity encounters before but a few weeks back Eden had hinted she was actually interested. He’d been on her suspect list for people involved in the ring. Tonight he was her alibi and source. A quick search of his thoughts and she confirmed that he was not the carrier for that night. Eden sent him suggestive thoughts of him giving her the best “snogging” of her life before she left his drunk ass sleeping it off. He’d had enough wine and sleep aid to think they spent the night together. Meanwhile Eden went back to the Hallow to get ready for part two of the night.


“What do you think?” Eden said as she paraded herself in front of Max. She’d used her wand to turn her golden curls into a muddy brown lobb that skimmed her colar bone. She hadn’t had hair that short in years. It was also pin straight. Not a battle she enjoyed but it did make her look different. She’d even changed the color of her eyes to a warm brown and put on some spectacles she had found in a second hand shop. Her dress was a simple dress robe she had found at Madam Malkin’s for 7 galleons. It was your average nice black robe that hung in every young professional’s wardrobe. Versatile and not too expensive.

[Max Kameren]

Max straightened the sleeves of his dress robes. He adjusted the rings on his fingers until his prostheses flickered into appearance. When he caught sight of himself passing in the bedroom mirror he grimaced. He didn’t have dress robes of his own, and in an effort to blend in he borrowed some simple black robes from his father’s old things. When he caught himself in his peripheral it was like seeing a ghost.

Eden was running behind. Max’s brow furrowed as he checked his watch, glancing at the door to gauge how much time he had. There was enough for just one glass of scotch, at least. He shrugged to himself, pouring a shallow glass and taking a sip. They couldn’t be too late, but Max wasn’t thrilled to arrive too early. He agreed to use the attention on him to Eden’s benefit, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Since Eden’s budding business began there had been several opportunities where his friend needed an extra pair of hands. Max, in the doldrums of exile, was usually happy to help. They kept it secret from the Alex and the Ministry, who sought to keep him safe, but when Eden needed a hand he was there. He had picked up packages, been a sounding board. Even, once or twice, used his sixth sense to help single out a mole or nudge an informant in the right direction. After a few narrow scrapes, they’d agreed to keep his involvement on a need-to-know basis for their friends and family inside the Ministry.

The one thing Max made Eden promise: he wouldn’t be fighting. Max had had more than a lifetime’s worth of conflict. He wouldn’t be dragged back into another all-out battle if he could help it, so he’d given her an ultimatum: any mission where Max had to duel would be his last.

He had found the bottom of his glass of scotch by the time Eden was coming through the door, Willow bounding up to inspect the strange-looking woman who suddenly appeared in the living room. “Late, Fletcher!” He called from the kitchen, coming to lean against the doorway & take in his friends disguise. “Gave me time to have a drink and take the edge off the coming press harassment, at least.”

“What do you think?” Eden said as she paraded herself in front of Max. The woman in front of him was the same shape as Eden Fletcher, but with a more dour color palette. Max tilted his head as he looked his friend up and down.

“I’d lose the glasses, they’re too old. Turn it into a Halloween costume.” With a sigh he sank into an armchair, flexing his prosthetic fingers as he thought. “Run me through the plan one more time? Don’t really know if I can outrun a team of Quidditch pros in these dress robes...”

[Eden Fletcher]

“Hello Wild Wiley Willow darling,” Eden cooed as she knelt down to gently shake the dog’s face as she rubbed her ears. Eden wasn’t really a dog person. Merlin’s balls she wasn’t actually a pet person. She had barely been able to keep herself alive let alone be a caretaker for another living creature. It was amazing that she actually kept Snitch alive for the year Max hadn’t been around. There were a few times she had feared the creature ran away because she kept the door or a window open. While Eden didn’t like taking care of pets she liked petting them well enough. Alright she enjoyed playing with pets when she wanted to and ignoring them when she didn’t. Which was why she was more of a cat person. Snitch, who somehow made it to Eden’s new place and was still alive, was like Eden. She did her own thing, hunted down some mice or gnomes and when she wanted a belly rub she flopped down on some parchment and rolled over. Or knocked something to the ground to get Eden’s attention. It was rather ingenious and amusing.


“Late Fletcher!” Max yelled . Eden rolled her eyes as she glanced towards the kitchen he sounded like a fishwife with all the lecturing. She opened her mouth to tell him so but was distracted. For a second she thought she saw Curse Kameron again. Suddenly Eden was 12 again staring up at a gentle scarred giant who had offered comfort to a misfit that saw skelton creatures when no one else could.


Eden stood up quickly and twirling asking Max what he thought, battering her feelings aside. He probably knew what he looked like and it probably made him feel just as weird as she did.


Eden shrugged when Max told her to ditch the glasses. She took them off and tossed them onto a nearby table.


“Run me through the plan one more time….”


“You’re the distraction. Shouldn’t be too many of the vultures at the event it’s just a new gallery opening for some moldy old potion manuscripts and tools. Some ancient wizarding civilization find in the Amazon. It’s right up your alley.. Anyways you’ll liven up the place. I’m sure the museum curator will go wild. There’s an assistant at the museum you should talk to. I modeled this look after her. You’re going to be your charming self while I slip into the restricted section and do what I do best. Have a drink. Flirt. Look at moldy artifacts then meet you back here. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

[Max Kameren]

“Late Fletcher!” Max yelled over his shoulder, grinning at the commotion from Willow and the turbulent aura emerging in the doorway.

The grin flashed to an irksome scowl as he turned into the living room, scotch in hand, and he felt her aura pitch downward. He knew the what that tone in her aura meant, and he didn’t need the encouragement. Living in his old family home kept that feeling constant. There were memories around every corner, and a ghost staring at him every time he paused in front of the mirror. “Oi, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t have proper dress robes, his were all I could find. And I can’t do anything about my face!”

His friend pushed through the momentary awkwardness and twirled, showing off her drab new look. It was strange, seeing Eden’s shape in earth tones rather than her sprite-like golden hair and blue dinner-plate eyes. “What do you think?”

“I’d lose the glasses, they’re too old. Turn it into a Halloween costume.” She tossed the glasses aside and he nodded in approval, sinking into an armchair “Run me through the plan one more time? Don’t really know if I can outrun a team of Quidditch pros in these dress robes...”

“You’re the distraction. Shouldn’t be too many of the vultures at the event it’s just a new gallery opening for some moldy old potion manuscripts and tools […] It’s right up your alley…”

Max rolled his eyes; he knew Eden meant that to her it was suicidally boring, but he had already been planning to stop by the exhibition before Eden had even mentioned it. On a different day, a quieter one where he would go unnoticed. Tonight would be the opposite.

“Anyways you’ll liven up the place. I’m sure the museum curator will go wild. There’s an assistant at the museum you should talk to. […] Have a drink. Flirt. Look at moldy artifacts then meet you back here. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Max smirked playfully. “Cant wait to see how we muck it up. Ready?”

.. .. .. .. .. ..

For once Max saw them before they saw him. Coming up on the museum he stalled, hesitating at the swell of auras that he was sure were about to be focused on him. Usually when Eden called on his help it was his skills she needed. He would be brewing potions, casting spells, or using his Empathy to give her an inside edge she otherwise wouldn’t have.

This time it was just… him. His notoriety, his interests, his personality. The latter of which he wasn’t sure existed at all anymore, or at least had so fundamentally shifted that he wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. The press that hounded him called him Max Kameren, The Glowing God, Hero of the Shadow War. Hissed probing questions and crude remarks to try to coax him into an argument. He’d indulged once or twice, when reporters would mention his sisters or push the line by saying something lewd about his fictional tabloid lovers, Rowena and Eden. He expected that brand of disturbance was what Eden expected of him tonight.

Speaking of, Eden seemed to take notice of Max’s second thoughts. Her alarm nudged him forward, stumbling just far enough to fall into line of sight of his editorial adversaries. Shock and surprise was the first ripple to pop through his senses, shocking Max like static on his approach. Max Kameren, common tabloid staple, wasn’t expected to appear at this event. Or any other, for that matter; Max Kameren had become a notorious shut-in over the last six months of media attention.

When the shock passed it was immediately overtaken by a roar of excitement and activity. Max was juicy media prey for an otherwise dry Exhibition opening. He shrank back as the phalanx flooded in around him, pinning him with his back against the museum’s exhibition poster. Flashes went off without warning from all sides, leaving him squinting to try to make sense of the eager faces surrounding him. “Max! Max, a few questions! Please!”

Show time, then. Max set his jaw, hands in his pockets. He felt Eden’s aura slink by behind the backs of his new companions for the evening. “Sure, why not,” Another ripple of surprise at his reaction and he smirked, “just this once.”

The questions came in a flurry so thick that they mixed with the surging auras around him and he couldn’t focus. He picked out the first he could decipher:

“Tell us about your dress robes!”

He shook his head. “D’know what to tell you, they were my dad’s.” The auras around him buzzed; they loved a Curse Kameren reference, it doubled the word count for his tragic back story.

“Where are you staying now that you’ve left London?”

“Nice try.” A chuckle rippled around him with the vibrating auras. One camera’s flash got too close and he ducked out of the way.

“Have you heard about Eden’s antics at the Fashion Gala tonight?”

“No, but I’m sure one you will shout it into the back of my head later this week if you can find me.”

“Where’s your date tonight, Max?!” All the auras seemed to seize and focus in on the big question, the one they’ll be running with on page six whether or not he had a satisfying answer.

Max shrugged, smiling slyly. His hand slipped out of his pocket and began knocking urgently on the window behind him; he felt several auras on the other side of the glass alert to his presence and jump to action. “‘Fraid I only have eyes for the Xpiayoc Canche Manuscripts tonight. Should be a wonderful show, I’m particularly interested in seeing the original diagrams for the Canche Method’s irregularly-shaped pestle. The Mayan civilization doesn’t get nearly enough recognition from the European Potions community for their innovations, a lot of which we still use today…”

The buzzing auras tapered, fading off like Eden’s attention span when Max gave similar lectures, and his sly smile widened. This was the first instance this ability had been useful; normally it made him miss the old days, when he could trade increasingly obscure lectures back and forth into the small hours with Rowena. Yet another part of him that had been walled off with that relationship. He continued, elaborating on Xpiayoc Canche’s creation of the graded system for ground ingredients until he saw a hand flag him down from inside. By the time he was ‘rescued’ by the museum staff and brought inside, he was sure the paparazzi felt they were being rescued as well.

Once inside and separated from the auras haranguing him, Max had only a moment of space to mentally search the building and find Eden before he was thrust before the museum’s curator, nodding along to a one-sided conversation while he followed his friend’s path in his head, scanning for the first sign of trouble.