CONTENT WARNING - MENTION OF SEXUAL ABUSE WITHIN THREAD
August 24th, 1889 - The Golden Hearth Theatre

This wasn’t his usual kind of haunt.
It was the kind of place that, if he had a family and wanted cheap entertainment, he would bring them if he wanted people to look down on him for bringing his family here. It wasn’t that it was a bad place necessarily; it was mostly because of the association it seemed to have with half-breeds and other beings, so its reputation left much to be desired. Charles didn’t mind them, though. He had no pre-disposition to disliking half-breeds and other beings, but he knew full well what society thought of them and the risk that would come from being seen with them, and that was not something he wanted to risk ruining. Not that his reputation was the best anyway; being the Squad Chief for the Department of Law Enforcement was hardly a desirable career.

Stepping inside the theatre, Charles made a point to remain inconspicuous. He glanced over the half-empty theatre and it was clear the show was coming to an end. He slunk into the shadows, his wand concealed within his suit. He’d elected to not wear his Ministry attire – despite him being on official Ministry business – just in case something was happening here. It was, after all, his job to check out the suspicious places every now and again and what more of a suspicious place was there than a theatre in the slums, with an owner who takes to hiring those believed to be a bad sort of people, that seems to put on shows catered for the opposite of the types the slums seems to attract.

The Squad Chief highly doubted anything was actually happening but it was quiet and this gave him some much needed time away from filling out paperwork. And his superiors believed it was worth checking, considering what had been happening the last few months.

Once the show had died down and people had started to leave, Charles approached the stage and moved with a sort of indifferent stride toward who he could only assume to be the owner.

“Mr. Gallagher, correct? Have you a moment to spare, at all?” He asked, suddenly feeling very comfortable around the person.

---

  

Phil turned about to face Charles. He had long curly dark hair, a well groomed beard and mustache to match with accompanying dark eyes. His physique slim yet toned was dressed in a rather eccentric selection. A purple top hat, an orange jacket, brown trousers, blue shirt, and a patch work tie with all the colors mixed in. "Ah yes, for a patron anything. How can I help you good sir?" His voice was deep yet slipped off the tongue like silk. Indeed this sort of man seemed to test any man's sexuality, as unbeknownst to most he was a she and a half veela at that. Felicity knew the spells she took on to make her look like a man would not hault her Veela charm, but most men were a bit more discreet about such desires towards their own in this day and age, which was not the case had she appeared before them as a woman. Magic was amazing.

  

Looking the man up and down, a strange sensation stirred in Charles stomach. It was a sensation he had experienced a total of three times in his entire life.

The first was when he was on an assignment a few years ago and a Veela decided to get involved.
The second was when he first laid his eyes on Emmeline Woodcroft. Like a Shakespearean poem or… something (Charles wasn’t one for reading), butterflies ran around his stomach and his knees trembled.

The third was right now.

Now, Charles could deduce one of two things at this point because it was clear as day this guy wasn’t Emmeline. Either he was a Veela, which was impossible seeing as Veela were female only or Charles had homosexual tendencies that he had buried deep within his subconscious, never felt before, never acted on, and did not even know existed until this very point. Which, realistically, was as impossible – if not more – than Mr. Gallagher being a Veela.

Coughing a little and swallowing, looking rather uncomfortably at the beautifully chiselled jaw that sat on the face of what looked like one of the most beautiful … – Charles shook his head a little. He couldn’t be thinking like this. He probably had just eaten something funny.

“I, erm,” Charles looked around the room as if trying to look anywhere but this man – whilst making it look as though he was looking for something, “Mr. Caulfield,” Charles turned back to the man and held out a hand, “Squad Chief for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

He didn’t answer the question. In truth, he kind of forgot the man had asked anything.

---

  

The helpful smile shifted into a bemused smile as Phil watched the man get flustered over him and try to avoid even the smallest glance. Felicity's gaydar was impeccable seeing as one of her closest friends practically had wings and this man was as straight as a board, and given a tick might be as stiff as one too. Dark brown eyes shifted towards the mans trousers. This could be worrying, as veela and part veela at that only attracted the opposite sex, and if this man found out Felicity's little secret, well, not so amusing after all. As if matters couldn't get worse, fuck. Law Enforcement. The smile became strained. Always, poking their nose where it didn't belong, thinking of her kind as less and worse, criminals. Hopefully though this man didn't know too much about veela and their offspring, and this discomfort drove the mind away from fact.

Phil kept the smile and somehow managed a light at heart voice. "Pleasure Mr. Caulfield, though once again I ask what brings you to our enchanting little corner?" He asked. She was taking a gamble on staying as Phil instead of fetching Phil's twin sister, partly because she thought it may be too obvious. She could make this work though, she had to.

  

“Oh,” Charles said, lowering his hand though as he did, he noticed Mr. Gallagher’s eyes shift briefly to Charles’ trousers before averting back upward. Well, that was a little weird. And it was also making Charles feel all manner of things – that he knew he didn’t feel toward this gender. He swallowed once again and moved to face the seating area.

As he did so, he couldn’t help but feel different. He couldn’t place his finger on it and this entire situation was just strange. Turning back to the man, Charles replied with his best Ministry voice that he could, “it’s nothing you need to be concerned with, Mr. Gallagher,” Charles said, “the Ministry is simply making… enquiries into various locations, given the events of the past month.”

Charles then moved to a nearby chair and gestured toward it, “Mind if I…?” He asked.

If this weird situation was going to continue, Charles was going to be seated for it. Something was off about this place. At first, he thought it would be a dead end and there would be nothing shady going on. But you never knew; this place was a hive for half-breeds and the like so it wouldn’t have been surprising. However, the more he thought on it, the more he thought maybe it was another kind of establishment suited toward a certain kind of clientele after hours.

Charles wasn’t going to leave until he got answers – even if being in this very spot twisted his stomach into knots.

---

  

Nothing to be concerned about, how many times had she heard that line before. Well time to put her big boy pants on and just deal with this man. One way or another.

Phil gave a nod, "By all means, that's why it's there." He took took a seat as well and put his hand up. A part hag bartender came up with a bottle of fire whiskey and two shot glasses and Phil pulled out a cigar offering one to the Ministry official. "Care for one? Bad habit I know, but business has been good tonight, why not reward it?" He poured himself a shot then pulled out his wand and lit the tip of the cigar. She smoked like the best of them.

"You must be referring to the vampire attacks." She said quite simply, who didn't know about them. "Look I keep pigs blood and plague blood on tap, your welcome to check the stock if you like. Aside from that dear William takes care of the rest. My patrons know the rules, they have a place of refuge so long as they don't cause me trouble. Killing tends to cause trouble." Plague blood was blood taken from cholera victims on their last breath and those in the insane asylum who were leeched on a regular basis. Neither bled to death, wasn't healthy for the vampire. Regardless, shady but not illegal. Muggles pulled far worse stunts what with selling the sick's bodies to medical students before they were even dead and buried. Something had to pay for the funeral she supposed.

A hand gestured over to William, a large half giant who was picking up unruly drunks and passed out drunks and hauling them out of the theatre, unless he could shake them down for enough coin to put them in the barracks back stage, then they went into an un-orderly human pile on the adjacent wall.

  

Sitting down, Charles exhaled and could feel a bead of sweat forming across his temple and sliding down the side of his face. Nothing about this made him feel comfortable. It made him feel dirty and he didn’t know why.

“I don’t smoke,” Charles lied and his eyes shifted almost immediately to the shot glass – as if snapping into some sort of tunnel vision. It was a lot harder to say no to the firewhiskey than it was to say no to a cigar. Swallowing once again, Charles lulled his head slightly and listened to the man talk about the vampires, the rules, and the patrons. His right hand was perched rather precariously across his chest, his elbow resting on the armrest. His training – and experience – had shown Charles that even if you were just talking, someone having a wand out didn’t always end well.

“I wasn’t insinuating you would be involved with that, Mr. Gallagher,” Charles coughed slightly and shuffled in his seat, his voice almost stern-like; teeth tugging uncomfortably at the inside of his lip, “Have you noticed any suspicious sorts recently? Because I need to know if you have.”

Merlin, this was hard. He wanted the shot of whiskey and he wanted more – he wasn’t sure what but he could feel it. Or, rather, feel something.

Something was not right.

---

  

Felicity watched the man sweat and by the way his hand went to his chest either he was having a heart attack of feeling threatened. Neither of which she needed, because for half breeds or even beings, no matter the circumstance, the headlines were generally against them. She sighed though it came out under a hue of baritone. "Relax, I'm part Veela," He stated firmly, "And your not my type." Mr. Caulfield honestly wasn't, Felicity liked men who were self assured in their own right and knew what they wanted in life.

He took a puff on his cigar making interesting O's for amusement. "Nope, sure haven't. Though if I do, I promise you'll be the first to know Mr. Caulfield. A rogue vampire is hardly in my best interest wouldn't you say? Can't have my clientele thinking this isn't a safe haven, not when so much of the world is against them." He poured himself another shot and threw it back, "Ahhh..." Nothing like a good solid burn all the way down to the gut.

  

Wait. What?
What?

Charles barely listened to most of what Mr. Gallagher was saying though part-Veela. Charles supposed that did explain a bit but it raised more questions than answers. Men couldn’t be Veela and Mr. Gallagher was a man. Right? Maybe he’d misheard.

“The world is against them because of their –” Charles paused and exhaled deeply before nodding toward the spare glass. Once it was poured and offered, Charles threw it to the back of his throat and placed the glass down. He was sounding like half the Ministry hypocrites he hated, “Sorry. Half-breeds have caused a lot of problems in the past and the Ministry just wants to ensure the safety of everyone. That includes half-breeds…”

Charles trailed off slightly then before his expression transformed into one of sheer confusion. Not just because of whatever it was he was feeling, but because he’d just registered what had been said.

“Excuse my bluntness. Half-Veela?” Charles grabbed the bottle himself this time and poured another shot, “Veela don’t birth men.”

At least, that was what he was led to believe.
So either this man wasn’t a man – which was unlikely – or something more sinister was going on.

Charles’ eyes widened and he inhaled, sitting upright and stiff, “Are you…” How could he word this? “Do you…” Hmm, no.

“Is this a brothel for… the…” For men who like men? “You know… For those kinds of men.” Charles asked with an air of embarrassment.

“Because if that’s the case, and you’re using… charms to lure unsuspecting victims here, I will have to take action.”

Charles felt pretty confident that was what was happening here.

---

  

Phil caught him with a glare as he began his oh so stereotypical banter concerning half breeds. Really? Really?! He was going to walk into her establishment, a place made as a refuge for the down trodden of society and tell her that they were the root to all their- Her half veela temper was started to flare and her cigar was quickly turning to ash.

But oh the winds of change, how they blissfully blew her smoke in a different direction. Anger shifted into hilarity, and Phil unleashed a booming laugh as the man stumbled and tumbled over concepts his pea brain was hardly able to fathom. Felicity honestly wished Trevor was not banging some bloke back stage, because this here. This here was fucking glorious. Oh he'd be in stitches when she told him.

It took a good five minutes for her to recover and by the time she had, she was honestly in tears. "Oh dear Lord. That, that's a good one, a new one, but indeed a very good one. Alright let's start with the first inquiry shal we. Veela can give birth to males if they happen to fuck a human, hence why I said I am only part Veela. My mother was a Veela and my father was the poor fool to stick his wick in her, which she pumped til she had every last glorious drop up her sweet cunny. Then she birthed me and my twin, saw we obviously weren't full Veela and abandon us by a dirt road. The rest is history."

Phil sighed once more, "Now onto your next moronic inquiry. No this is not a brothel for gay men. This is a theatre, as the sign says. Hence why there is a stage, which if you had bothered to come like a respectable human being and arrived for the show rather than the after math...you would know." He sighed and took another shot, pouring him another as well. "Neither of us can help that your attracted to me, it's more of a curse then a blessing to have everyone enamored with you."

  

The laughter sent Charles blood boiling. It was mockery. That, mixed with the concoction of alcohol and… the Veela-ness of it all was not a good combination and Charles could feel himself wanting to do much more than whatever this Veela was forcing him to do. Violent things.

Subsiding his anger with a deep exhale, Charles conceded; “Alright. You’re the half-Veela, I’m sure you know more about your own kind than I do.”

Once he mentioned the brothel, Phil quickly shot that down. Maybe it was just the half-Veela making Charles think this way. Electing to ignore the blatant disrespect Mr. Gallagher was showing the Ministry official, Charles decided to move on.

“You using your… whatever in Merlin’s name you call it, does not mean I am attracted to you. Assuredly you are not what I go f-” Hang on a minute.

Charles paused and stood up, surveying the place, his hand still across his chest – just incase.

“I’m not stupid. It’s my job to know these things,” He then turned on the balls of his feet, “are the Vampires you hold here registered with the Ministry?”

This half-Veela nonsense didn’t make much sense to the Squad Chief, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on why. Even if he wanted to place his finger on it; much like other things his gut was telling him to do but Charles knew – mostly – how to suppress them, especially in front of a Veela. Half-Veela’s typically weren’t as strong with their enamouring charms as full-Veela were. He was willing to dismiss it for now.

Leaning down, he grabbed the shot that had been poured for him and propped himself up on the stage, making himself at home and pouring another shot.

“I believe your… this theatre is doing nothing unruly but I’m sure you can appreciate, I have to cover every base, Mr. Gallagher.”

---

  

Felicity watched him as he steadily got drunker and ever so more idiotic. What was wrong with the Ministry, couldn't find anything beyond inbred blue bloods to do their work? She poured herself another shot. She had a feeling she was going to need another bottle if the imbecile kept this up. "I don't have any vampires on my staff or in my show, and the patrons know to bring their papers for the safety of the audience, though I don't keep written records of them." It was the honest truth, and though the fanged folk may bitch and moan about it Felicity didn't need the Ministry on her ass. She went to pour herself another shot, and stamp her cigar out.

  

Charles nodded.
He was quite content Phil wasn’t lying and were the truth to be told, Charles didn’t want to spend any longer here than he needed to.

Standing up, Charles handed the shot glass back to Mr. Gallagher and nodded courteously, “ Thank you for the drinks. Make sure you report anything suspicious to the Ministry, we can’t be too safe now with what has been happening. And it’s good you have given your kind – and other beings and half-breeds – a sanctuary,” Charles smiled softly before he began his walk out of the building.

Just as he got to the third row from the back however, something struck Charles as curious.
During his training – no – during his tenure at Hogwarts, he had learned a great deal about Veela and granted, most of it he had forgotten but there was one bit of information that stuck out. And it stuck out because it resulted in them being compared to sirens and trashy mermaids.

He turned back around and walked back toward the half-Veela, this time with his hands in his pockets. He was almost certain at this point the half-breed wouldn’t do anything as – and if his foggy mind was right – there was a reason they were hiding this.

“Wait, I do have another question,” Charles said, leaning against a nearby support pillar, “I get that your kind can birth men if they… fornicate with humans but males don’t have the same… whatever it is.”

Charles then took a step forward, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“They also don’t work on the same sex,” Charles lulled his head to the right, glancing briefly toward the giant before back at the Veela, “I… Look, you are attractive. And I’m not attracted to men, regardless of whatever charm you want to try and put on me. What are you trying to hide?”

---

  

Phil gave a nod and lifted his shot glass to the man, glad to have him out of her hair. They both rose to their feet, and Phil gave a nod, "Of course and thank you for being concerned for our safety." It came out flat and lacked any emotional depth. Felicity was glad to see him leave and watched as he went to depart, stopped, and turned back to her.

The words that tumbled out of the fools mouth now made her and the other staff members sweat. Mr. Caulfield probably didn't realize it but he wasn't just threatening her livelihood with his his curious little musings but her entire establishment. Still, Felicity had one last card up her sleeve, and as Caulfield jumped from one voiced thought to the next Phil grew very very close to him, until his last word was met with a kiss.

Now Felicity didn't just have the Veela charm, she too had the skills necessary to back it up. Lips locked and her tongue snaked past his as she caught the final word. She toying, taunted, and tussled with him. Her goal to fill him further with the inexplicable wanton lust he was already feeling for her. When lips parted she dared to steal what was left of his breath. "Listen very closely to me Mr. Caulfield, how I care to present myself is my business and mine alone. Should you wish to share any of your, discoveries, from tonight with the world, I dare say no one will believe you, in fact they may even think your trying to hide a secret of your own." Her gaze slowly traveled down to his trousers. "Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea now would you? After all...we've had quite a few witnesses of our desire for one another just now." Her gaze shifted to her bartender, her usher, her stage manager, her performers, her staff. If he was going to take her down. She was going to take him with her.

  

The expression that was on the half-Veela’s face was puzzling, to say the least. Charles left foot moved back – away from the half-breed – as they approached him. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d said to provoke this sudden change and just as he raised his arm to grab his wand – incase things turned sour – his arm was pinned between the two bodies and their lips met.

Instantly and with a ferocity akin to a werewolf on a full-moon, Charles mind became a half mix of lust and anger. He wanted more – his body wanted more – and his heartrate was showing as such though he knew it was just their charm and exhaling as their lips parted, only half listening to their words, Charles swallowed and it seemed that whatever she had thought Charles said, had now come to fruition.

Taking a legitimate step back this time, his body still yearning for hers, Charles’ clenched his jaw; his hand now clutching his wand.

“You’re a woman,” He stated matter-of-factly, “I don’t care how you choose to present yourself – I just expect honesty. And I do not appreciate you blackmailing a member of the Ministry.”

The moment his words left his lips, his wand was raised and aimed at one of the staff, “I – ” Charles paused and lowered his wand. Maybe it was best to not do anything. He was outnumbered and he was almost certain they could attack him before he could obliviate everyone.

He then swallowed and took a step toward the half-Veela, the anger present in his bitter-stare shadowing whatever charm she had placed on him with her half-breed magic. But he needed to make an example of the situation. Of her.

His eyes softened at that moment and he leant in toward her, resisting every temptation to push her against a wall and have his way. At least his training with these kinds of situations were coming into play – though it was hard – and not just what his trousers were concealing. A breathy voice escaped him, “is your back-room empty?” He whispered into her ear as teasingly as he could; his teeth nipping at the lobe of her ear.

No sooner had she answered, had he grabbed her wrist and apparated to another part of the theatre – away from the staff.

Once they’d disapparated, Charles pulled out his wand and took a step back. He aimed it at the door and cast Collorportus before turning and pointing it at her (though each time he looked at her, he could feel some invisible string tugging at him – begging for him to do much more). It was a conflicting and confusing situation for him.

“Let’s start again. And this time, you will not try to use your… charms against me. Let’s not make this worse on yourself. Who are you?”

---

  

Felicity had been in some sticky situations before, and this ranked among them. His words stung as he spoke, as he revealed, no announced, something only a few of her staff knew. He moved towards her. She wearily stepped back. He came closer, too close for her comfort. Her hand went for her wand as teeth took hold of her ear and hot breath spoke words that fanned her fears.

What? No! He wasn't supposed to want her further, he was supposed to be repulsed by the idea that everyone had seen him kiss what was supposedly a man, but her veela charm betrayed her, and before she knew it with a crack, she was being ushered into her own room with him having her at wand point.

Hand still on her own wand she or rather he looked wearily from him to the room and quietly stepped in. The second she did, she tried to put some distance between her and him. Rape wasn't exactly her idea of fun. Wand still in hand she looked to him, guarded. "They won't let women own property." It was really that simple, "And you don't know what it's like to be a woman all men desire and not be of a class worth protecting, it's not something that can simply be stopped at a whim..." She tried to explain.