"I've tasted blood and it is sweet
I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet
I've trusted lies and trusted men
Broke down and put myself back together again
Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters
Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger
I've pinched my skin in between my two fingers
And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors
"Come on, little lady, give us a smile"
No, I ain't got nothin' to smile about
I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for
A moment to say I don't owe you a goddamn thing
I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life
I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realize
I'm no sweet dream, but I'm a hell of a night
That I'm no sweet dream, but I'm a hell of a night
No, I won't smile, but I'll show you my teeth
And I'ma let you speak if you just let me breathe
(...)
I could play nice or I could be a bully
I'm tired and angry, but somebody should be"
Halsey- Nightmare
Finding basic information about Mia wasn't as hard as one could think. It took me one visit to the MACUSA's Great Archives.
Mia Potter was born on September 19, 1967 in New Orleans Charity Hospital.
Her mother, muggle, Yvonne Lapieux refused to even look at the girl, demanding for social workers to immediately take the child away. Father was listed as unknown.
Yvonne Lapieux's whereabouts from the point remained unknown.
After a month at a care facility Mia was placed in a muggle orphanage. Soon one of the employees from the orphanage reportedly called the muggle law enforcement panicked claiming that one of the infants started levitating. When the officers came nothing was out of ordinary, so they just dismissed it as the caretaker probably being high.
The second time however the infant room caught on fire when little baby Mia had a fit.
The MACUSA services arrived and contained the accidental magic outbreak, wiped the orphanage workers memories and all records of Mia being there. The paper trail told a history of young couple from Canada adopting Mia almost immediately after she left the hospital.
In fact, Mia was adopted right away by Dorea and Charlus Potter. The procedure was quick and seamless and being four months old she got registered as Mia Potter.
For couple next years there was little one could find about her life. That's not so strange, really.
There was an occasional photo of the whole family on some charity events. There was one from MACUSA's Charity Fair I remember quite accurately; Dorea, practically beaming with pride looking beautiful in an elegant gown, beside her Charlus in dress robes with a slightly askew cowboy hat on his salt and pepper, curly hair and dark moustache grinning in a way that incredibly reminded me of Fleamont and James. And between them stood little Mia- maybe six years old- in a dress matching her mother's; the girl grinned to the camera just like her father showing off two missing teeth.
Until she went to school practically all the mention of her in the papers was just added to news and documents regarding her parents.
At age of ten she began her education at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the States kids start school a year earlier than here. And from there her trace started to get much clearer.
From year one she exceled in all classes and had the best scores in history of the school. When she was on second year there was first press note about her and her scores. From that moment she became a favourite among the readers, and I found plenty of articles about the Potter Heiress.
The first crack at her image came when at ages fifteen she joined the Salem Witches Institute. Her formal request was accepted, and she became a part of the sisterhood.
Second crack appeared when she decided to take a gap year after finishing Ilvermorny whit a record score.
After that point I almost drowned in the amount of documentation that Mia appeared in; either as the main heroine or just as a signature. Half of it was all formal and all almost all regarding her work. The other were news and gossip about her personal life.
Looking through all of it I decided that the best way to get an idea what kind of person she is was to talk with someone who knew her.
I located Cloe Rogers, Mia's friend form Ilvermorny and Dean Johnson her boss from the Thunderbirds. Rogers lives in D.C. and Johnson was there in business.
Johnson responded to my owl almost immediately and agreed for a meeting the same day.
10 October 1994, MACUSA, Washington D.C.
Dean "Chief" Johnson looked almost exactly like I've imagined him. He was tall, monstrously big, and had a giant moustache. His black, bald head reflected light in a way that reminded me of that time when Sirius and James finally asked Kingsley if he polished his head before leaving house.
We met in his temporary office in the MACUSA; when I entered, he stood up from behind his desk, shook my hand without a word and motioned for me to sit on the guest chair. He looked at me for a couple of seconds closely, like he tried to judge my character. Finally, he sighed and said in a gruff voice:
"Don't get me wrong Lupin but if it wasn't for Mia, I've wouldn't talk with you at all."
"What do you mean?"
"Mia told me that one day someone from UK will probably come and ask about her. She told me who I could trust without asking questions."
That was a surprise. I thought if she were to talk about anyone, then it would be Sirius given that she had some contact with him.
"She told you about me?"
"Among others."
"Others?"
Johnson let out a breathy chuckle.
"Like I would tell you. That's off limits. Besides it's not like I don't know what's going on at yours right now." he clicked his tongue and shook his head with pity. "What kind of idiot minister you've got yourself to say that that shitshow at Quidditch Championships was just a work of copycats?"
I've shrugged; it's not news to anyone in the British community that Fudge is a moron.
"Didn't picked him really."
"Well, it's the sweet advantage of democracy; when we pick an idiot to represent us, we can blame only ourselves. And kick him in the ass after four years. Still don't know why Mia wanted to go to UK so badly...no offence."
"None taken."
"But you're not here to listen to me ranting about politics...but I must say that there's nothing as inseparable as Mia and politics. I always felt like she's plotting her moves hundred steps ahead. It didn't always work out the way she wanted but for sure, she always landed on four pawns." Johnson chuckled again. "I know her since she was a little rascal. Me and her pops knew each other for years. So it wasn't really a problem for me when she asked for a trial to join Thunderbirds. I didn't expect her to finish it, but I knew that even if she fail she won't be mad."
"But she managed to pass." I stated and that made Johnson laugh like a maniac.
"Sweet Morganas ass. Managed? We managed to survive. Me and boys. She practically wiped the floors with our asses." he giggled again probably seeing my surprise. "It's one of my fondest memories to be honest."
"Could you tell me about it?"
Johnson nodded and began narrating how he remember Mia's first encounter with the Thunderbirds.
•••
15 June 1985, Manhattan, New York
Summer forcefully enveloped the city in its warm, faded-out embrace. Sun mercilessly shone on the lightly clad New Yorkers; people ran around like ants escaping a light-beam from magnifying glass held by a sadistic child. People in traffic pushed down on their honks, throwing curses at each other; their faces sweaty and red from the heat and rage.
In the decade of Regan, economic recession, unemployment, fear of communism, New Coca-Cola, NES, Michael Jackson's Thriller, stars in the grasp of their hands and computers small enough to fit into a suitcase, people seemed to be as self-centred and rushed as they were when "the world" was only as far as their eyes could see.
Among all of them down the sidewalk, walked a young girl. She had headphones on her ears, plugged into a walkman pinned to the belt of her high-waist jeans shorts. Her springy, short locks bounced with her every dancing step. Big Ray-Ban's covered her eyes and a colourful belt-bag peaked from a loose off shoulder, white top.
Some people, who weren't so deep in their hurry, caught the site of the girl, eyes lingering and heads turning. Maybe it was the pretty doll-like, freckled face with golden-brown complexion and her long, long legs. Maybe it was her confidence and imperiousness, just seeping from her posture and the way she threw her hair away and swayed her hips. Maybe the almost electrical determination and purpose she clearly had walking along this ordinary sidewalk, among ordinary people, on this ordinary Sunday afternoon. Because this girl was far from ordinary despite looking the part.
The girl turned into one of the smaller alleyways; the crowd there was sparser. It was one of the streets only people who lived there had any business straying to. Besides a sleazy looking Chinese restaurant and an equally bad looking laundry there was nothing noteworthy.
The faded-out shop sign announced with chipped, dirty big letters "MR. CHOI'S LAUNDROMAT & CLEANERS". Below in smaller ones "SELF-SERVICE". Flickering neon shone angry in red "24H".
The girl without hesitation entered the laundry through door with hazy glass panels.
The interior was in even worse condition than the façade; the fade out, peeling paint, dirty floors, bland light and sour odour floating in the air. The washing machines were arranged in three rows on a sticky black and white checkered vinyl floor. An old man- probably Mr. Choi- sat in a deep slumber on a chair in the corner. His thin moustache rose and fell in the rhythm of his breath.
The girl came to the machine with the "Out of order" sign, threw it into the coin slot a large, gold coin and pushed the "start" button.
The laundry machine rattled loudly making the old man in the corner snore deeply and smack his lips a couple of times before stilling again. The girl threw a glance at the old man before opening the big, round door to the laundry machine and slipping inside, closing it behind her.
Instead of the damp, narrow metal interior of the washing machine drum she came to a spacious, wood-panelled reception filled with cigarette smoke. Behind a single desk, sat a young man of Asian descent; even from afar she could see a scar marring left half of his face.
The room looked comfy with a small waiting area with four comfy-looking but tattered armchairs and small table with a stack of magazines and newspapers. Few green tall plants in ceramic pots stood here and there.
He was comfortably sprawled on a chair and his legs in dragon leather boots were thrown haphazardly onto the desktop. When he saw her, he put down his legs with a loud thud and looked at her with a crooked brow and mocking smile before taking a deep drag from his cig.
"You lost baby girl?"
Pursing her lips, the girl took off her shades and hid them in her belt-bag and walked toward the reception desk. He had dark, artistically dishevelled hair, shapely features and striking blue eyes. He could be considered very handsome if it wasn't for the ragged, red and purple scar that started somewhere on his temple and ended just under the eye socket giving his face a morbid look.
"No. I have an appointment with Capitan Dean Johnson regarding recruitment trial."
The man snorted and put out his smoke in the crystal ashtray laying on the desk.
"Yeah, right. I don't think so."
She narrowed her eyes and the man could have sworn that he saw sparkles jumping through her locks.
"Excuse me?"
"We don't recruit kids, sweet cheeks."
"And who are you? A receptionist?"
He made an offended face.
"I'm on duty here!"
The girl leaned over the desk placing her hand flatly on the counter. She was smiling, but it wasn't a nice smile.
"Then do your job and take me to the Chief. I don't want to be late because you don't do your job properly."
He stood up and leaned on the other side of the desk, mirroring her posture; he was taller and towered over her.
"I have a good advice for you baby girl; turn away and go back to whatever debutant dream you came from. I've heard that they're recruiting in the Floo Registration Office. That's a nice job. You certainly won't have a chance to die there."
"Choi! What the hell is going on here?"
They both looked at the door from where the booming voice came from. The girl smiled seeing Chief standing there with a stormy expression.
"Chief, that girl claims that she's here to take the trail."
"Well, she's damn-right then." he grumbled and turned to the girl instantly smiling. "Mia, sunshine, you got here without any problems?"
"Yes, uncle, thank you." she walked towards Chief and hugged him heartily.
"Uncle...?" Choi asked weakly looking between the two.
"Get back to work, Choi!"
"Wait, she's really here to take the trials? I want to go watch!"
"You stay here! It's your turn on the reception!" Chief growled and turned to Mia. "Ready Mia? Let's go. By the way, how's your mum and pops? All good at the ranch?"
They left the reception and the still gaping Choi and went through a narrow dimly lit corridor.
•••
An hour later Mark Choi sat behind the desk still annoyed, killing time by letting out cigarette smoke rings from his lips when Shea Donovan, one of his teammates, emerged from the corridor leading to the training halls. He was holding a piece of bloodied cloth at his temple. He had a giant bruise on his cheek and few burn-marks on his clothes.
"Choi, Chief calls you."
"The fuck happened to you?"
Shea shrugged.
"Got beat up by a lass."
"She did this to you?!"
"She did this to all of us. You're the last one."
Choi's eyes became wide.
"She beat up Chief?"
"She beat up the whole squad." Donovan repeated now annoyed. "Get your ass there, now!"
He practically ran the whole way down the training halls stopping only to calm down his breathing and burst through the double door in the most dramatic way possible.
His team barely acknowledged his entry but the girl- Mia as Chief called her- spun around to look at him. She stood alone on the duelling ring platform.
She had a few cuts here and there, but beside a bigger one on her thigh and a bruise forming on her calf she looked fine. There was a small, mischievous smile dancing on her lips when she put her hand on hips and crooked her head looking at him.
That couldn't be said about his team. Every of the eight men sported some kind of injury; from bleeding wounds to broken bones. Wulfrick even laid unconscious on a mat.
"There you are!" Chief growled. "Get on the ring!"
He didn't wait for another que and got up quickly on the platform. There was something thrilling for him in all of this. He always was an adrenaline junkie and Chief often scolded him for this. He never shun away from pushing the limits-it didn't matter if his or others. The challenge in her smile and eyes was irresistible for him.
The moment he had both his feet on the platform he had to doge the first hex. He rolled on the boards and threw a hex of his own. She avoided it with graceful spin and avoided another red beam ducking under it.
They danced around each other for a while, ducking rolling, spinning, blocking, throwing. Sometimes they shouted their spells but mostly they threw non-verbal ones, only baring their teeth in rage. Their sweat and blood dripped on the floorboards of the ring.
Fuck, she's quick. Choi thought when he felt another spell graze the skin on his arm with burning heat.
He had to do something to throw her off balance. Something she doesn't expect.
Well, there was that one thing that Chief always said...
He started making his way towards her, still avoiding the angry spells flying towards him. She started to panic seeing him shorten the distance but still held her ground.
When he was close enough Choi launched forward.
His fist reached his target with a loud, sickening crack.
He felt uneasy hearing a group "ooooooh!" from the rest of his team.
Mia staggered backwards; her eyes hazy. Blood trickled from her broken nose. Choi for a second thought that it was it.
But it was a second.
Suddenly her amber eyes became completely conscious and Choi felt a shiver run down his spine.
She launched at him with a wild shriek.
•••
10 October 1994, MACUSA, Washington D.C.
"He punched a woman?" I asked with distaste and Johnson shook his head.
"He punched a soldier. She was on a recruiting trial and if she were supposed to join us, we couldn't go easy on her. And Choi did something good there really. Most wizards and witches just don't know how to deal with physical violence. They either go numb or panic."
"What did Mia do?"
Johnson hesitated before responding.
"She threw herself at Choi. Which seemed to be a stupid idea given that he was quite a big lad. But as soon as she was at him, she just...evaporated. Poof!" he went silent and looked at me curiously. "You don't seem surprised at all. And here I thought I would amaze you at least a little bit."
"I've heard about that. I didn't see it personally."
"Yeah, well...back then I've heard about it too. Never saw it earlier. Only read about it. It apparently is some ancient technique. Indian shamans used it during rituals. I have no idea where she learned it. I had no idea she can do this really." he chuckled clearly amused. "I seriously wish I had a Pensieve to show you our faces when she did it. She just turned into smoke and wrapped herself on Choi's arms. And turned back into herself with her arm around his throat. She choked him and tried to throw her off because he didn't want to yield. They stopped when I called the trial off."
"What happened next?" I asked really curious; I must admit I would gladly watch all of this in a Pensieve.
"She was admitted of course. She became a part of the family. I was afraid at first that even if she would pass the trial, she would be treated by boys like a team mascot. But after that show they looked at her with respect. Sometimes even fear. They never had their butts kicked is such spectacular way by a teenager, let alone girl. Everyone gladly welcomed her. Everyone but Choi."
"They didn't get along?"
"They went all cats and dogs at each other. It was unbearable. They pranked each other mercilessly. It went for a year until one reconnaissance mission that went wrong. They barely escaped from hippogriff poachers."
"They stopped bickering then?"
Johnson started laughing.
"They started fucking. And after a while they started dating. It was like in one of those rom-com's muggles like so much. I wouldn't know this, but my wife makes me watch them with her." he added quickly making me chuckle. "From then they were inseparable. They were a strange pair those two. Mia always were the bookish one as for Choi...he was smart but like life-smart. No genius that guy, really, but quite crafty. They balanced each other and seemed to have fun together. Choi really grew up around her and Mia...she laughed back then all the time..."
He trailed off and went silent for a moment; his face had something regretful in it as he clearly remembered something. I asked carefully:
"Why she left the Thunderbirds?"
Johnson looked at me with a sad face.
"It all went down at the end of her third year with us...she went solo on a stealth mission and it went badly. She ended pinned to the bed with burns on her arms. She tried to carry out four people by herself from a building consumed by magic fire. Some sick asshole thought it would be funny to set muggle houses on fire and watch the firemen panic when they can't extinguish it. She followed the suspect to catch him red-handed but before she could arrest him, he already let out some curse and nearby apartment house caught up flames. Mia ran inside and...we found her unconscious in front of the building next to four people she carried out."
Something didn't add up for me.
"She was burned? I didn't see any scars on her arms."
"She started wearing a quite powerful glamour over them when she went into politics. So I guess it's not visible unless you get really close. Until then she wore those without much of a fuss. I think I've got a photo somewhere here. Wait a sec."
He stood up and started to look through a file cabinet in the corner of the office. He murmured something to himself until he pulled out a tattered photo and handed it to me.
It was a group photo; ten men and one woman smiled to the camera laughing and joking around. Mia were there propped up on arms of two men. Her hair was gathered in a ponytail, she was laughing trying to keep her balance. She was wearing a boxer-shirt that uncovered her arms; pink, uneven scars swirled on her shoulders and arms. From time to time she brushed her fingers through hair of man on her left.
"That guy on the left holding her is Choi."
Choi had a dishevelled charm with his contagious smile and unique eye colour. He looked fit and even with the that morbid scar on his face he had something boyish and appealing.
He had that kind of charm you had, Sirius, in school. Don't frown, you're still charming, just in another way.
While I inspected the photo, Johnson started talking again:
"I...remember when I went to check on Mia right after that incident in the hospital hall. I saw Choi there...he watched over her..."
•••
20 May 1988, Manhattan, New York
"Mark...what are you doing here?" Capitan Johnson asked quietly. The younger man sat on a chair next to Mia's bed, where she slept peacefully. The healer said she just needed to sleep through the pain and let the potions he gave her work.
Choi's expression was solemn and determined when he looked at her, like he was making a silent oath; one of the kind that is unbreakable.
"Chief...I think it's time for us to go..." he finally said in quiet voice that was so uncharacteristic for him that it made Johnsons skin crawl. "I think we need to leave...I need to talk with her about it. I know she doesn't want marriage and children...she says she's too young and has too many plans to even consider this in next few years...her plight is too important...but we could do it together...I could help her..." Choi took in a shaking breath and Johnson silently thanked that the lights in the room were dimmed and only a single lamp threw bland light on everything.
"Give me two months."
Choi looked at him finally, surprised.
"Give me two months so I could at least find someone to replace one of you. Then go...be happy and do whatever. Just don't forget to invite us to a fucking wedding once you decide." Chief added finally making the other man smile.
"How could we forget? You are family."
•••
10 October 1994, MACUSA, Washington D.C.
"But it didn't end up that way, didn't it?" I asked hesitantly; I had a very bad feeling about where this story was heading. Johnson shook his head grimly and bent over; he started to rummage in one of the drawers of his desk. When he straightened up, he held two tumblers and a bottle of Wildes' Finest Bourbon. He poured a solid portion into each glass, moved one towards me and emptied the other in one gulp.
"A month later we got a call from LAAD. Their Aurors finally got a trace of Blake King. Mia has been tracking this sick fucker for a year then...so of course she wanted to go there. But LAAD requested for all of us to go...they...they suspected that a big ambush will be needed to take King down." Johnson sighed. "They were right. King let out...well, our magizoologists said later that it looked like a cross between a chimera and acromantula...several of them...ugly motherfuckers...they...spit out acid...it was a diversion of course, because he just wanted to escape. But killing several people along the way and causing panic was a upside for him. You see...King was a potion master and geneticist. He just emerged one day from whatever hellhole he was hiding in and started to spread his tentacles and distribute Star Dust."
"Star Dust?"
"A drug. He spread it among wizards and muggles. Nasty shit. You could get incredibly high on it, people who went through rehab after that said that the euphory they felt after taking a fix was something otherworldly. But the side effects included memory loss, incredible aggression, uncontrollable sex drive and increased strength. Actually, shit turned people into wild killing machines. You were lucky in the UK. We managed to control it before it spread outside of the States."
"Well, our government sure did a great job hiding the threat, that's for sure." I said sourly; that was a serious issue, and nobody heard about it. Millicent Bagnold was a Minister of Magic back then. Maybe she didn't want to cause panic...or maybe she wanted to get ready for a peaceful retirement without another crisis on her plate.
"Mia wanted to go...that psycho played games with her since he found out who was on his heels. He sent her owls, left her messages in his lairs we raided earlier, trained some junkies whose brains where just mush at that point to recite poetry for her...even sent her flowers on her birthday. You could think that the fucker was in love with her or something. But he was a typical narcissist. He just didn't want her to forget about him. In the end he did something to make sure she never forgets him. And it was all my fault."
Johnson poured himself another glass and motioned for me to drink mine. I politely took a sip and waited till Johnson dry his second glass and continue.
"The ambush went very bad. He somehow knew that we were coming, how many of us would be there, which ways we would get in. He orchestrated everything so we were trapped in an old car factory he was hiding in. We were surrounded by those monstrosities he created..." his eyes were distant an unfocused when he talked, like he replayed that memory in his head. "Grashka threw a Bombarda at one of those things and it just exploded tearing a hole in the wall of the hall...acid was everywhere just eating away the walls and floors around us. If it wasn't for Mias quick reaction with a shield spell we would be a heap of smoking, burned meat already. And King just stood there on one of the technical platforms, like he didn't give a fuck if he dies there under the rubble, guarded by those things. He watched us as we tried to escape. We ran towards the hole, fending off those creatures when Choi screamed, and we stopped to see King with his wand extended and Mark just...wrapped around with chains, being dragged towards those beasts. He lost his wand. Mia ran towards Choi but he screamed for her to get out, to run. That was the moment, the ceiling started to collapse...and...me and Donovan grabbed her and started to drag her towards the exit. She screamed like a banshee, scratched us, trashed...Thank Merlin she was to distressed to turn into smoke. Choi screamed at us to get her out...And that motherfucker...that sick fuck...stood there pulling Choi away from us...and he looked at Mia like she was some interesting research object...Mark...Mark didn't make it."
He filled a third glass and left it untouched.
"After that...Mia was unresponsive for almost a week. Like she was catatonic...Until we got a tip about King's whereabouts...she just went up and went straight up there..."
•••
1 July 1988, Providence, Rhode Island
PAD surrounded Blake King from every angle like a wild animal. Despite this he looked unnervingly calm. His wand was still in his hand, hanging loosely at his side.
He was as inconspicuous as he could be; tall and slender with shoulder-length curly hair and warm, gentle, brown eyes with dark circles underneath them. He had a square jaw and pale skin. He was young; as far as their intel went, he just turned twenty-two.
Mia hated this face the most in the world. As soon as she got past the squadron of Aurors surrounding him their eyes met and his thin lips stretched lightly in a polite smile.
He let his wand drop from his long fingers; it bounced from the ground with a silent, hollow click. He lifted his hands in sign of surrender and was immediately swarmed with three of the Thunderbirds, brutally twisting his arms onto his back to cuff him.
Mia and King still looked at each other. His face was perfectly blank when they cuffed him, and when the woman picked up his wand and broke it in half kicking up a shower of sparks.
Only then he asked with his melodic, pleasant voice:
"You're not going to kill me, Mia?"
She thinned her lips with disgust.
"No."
And up to this point Blake King seemed to be innocent, trustworthy even. Someone who hadn't seen him commanding an army of mutated monsters could even think he looks like the romantic, handsome type with his suave way of being and smooth voice.
But the illusion was broken when he was really smiling. His mouth stretched in an ugly way to reveal white teeth with extremely sharp fangs, the corners of his eyes wrinkled making them loose their warm and calm expression. There was something rapacious and brute in his face then, something sinisterly mischievous.
"So I guess I didn't try hard enough."
He chuckled but Wulfrick pushed him forward with such force that it turned into a breathy wheeze. The Thunderbirds led King out and before they threw a silencing charm at him, he said on the leave:
"We will see each other again, my little Thunderbird! I'll miss you!"
•••
10 October 1994, MACUSA, Washington D.C.
"She resigned on the same day." Johnson concluded grimly and threw back the third glass of bourbon.
We sat in silence for a long time; I finally finished my drink and Captain Johnson poured me a second one. Guilt and regret emanating from a man sitting on the other side of the desk were almost tangible
He continued without my question.
"Mia then disappeared for six months. Nobody knew where she was, no one had contact with her. When I asked Charlus what was happening to her, he told me not to worry she would be back, she just needed time for herself. Dorea was worried sick, but he insisted they shouldn't look for her. And he was right in the end. Mia came back after six months...she just appeared in MACUSA as a Junior Assistant for Legislation in the office of Senator Hayley Grant. Poof! Like that! That's a prestigious position...but I guess there's nothing that girl couldn't do. We didn't talk...until February this year, on her pops funeral. She told me about the proposal she got from your Minister for International Cooperation. She was different ... from the one Mia I remembered from when she was a girl and different from Mia, I got to know in the Thunderbirds. She was...distant. Reserved. Cold. I've heard that she was meeting that buffoon Magnus Sayre. Then that they split up. And then she was gone. She left to you." he said with a grimace looking me in the eye. "And that's all."
I nodded solemnly and stood up to shake his hand. He returned the gesture looking at me with some strange determination within his eyes.
"Thank you for telling me this. All of this."
I felt his hand squeezes mine tighter, like a vice. His face drew closer to mine ominously.
"Mia Potter is like a daughter for me. And like a sister for eight other baddest motherfuckers on this side of Atlantic Ocean. Just remember...there are lot of people who care about her."
I nodded calmly; I myself have many people I care about so much to start threatening strangers.
Finally, Johnson smiled and said snidely:
"She was right when she said you got nerves and an ass from steel, Lupin. Bolder looking guys would be already pissing their pants."