Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => Diagon Alley => London => Floriblunders Florists & Gamp Flat => Topic started by: Cepheus Gamp on January 31, 2016, 05:05:12 PM
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It was very becoming for a wizard to shake a dried cat food box while walking up Diagon Alley. Definitely the latest fashion, Darian Morgan, Coralie Malkin and Runwitch would be calling him a trendsetter in days. This was the knowingly ridiculous lie Cepheus told himself as he rattled it in his left, calling out at irregular intervals.
“Claaaaude!”
It would be two days if he didn’t turn up tonight. Cepheus was trying not to consider all manner of unfortunate events that could have occurred to his moggie outside of their Diagon Alley flat. He wasn’t a particularly beautiful cat, so he doubted anyone would want him for gloves. Nor was he a fantastically trusting feline who would wander off tempted by pets or ham. A tin of tuna would perhaps turn his head, but unless someone had hexed him or stunned him, he’d come home. Perhaps he was trapped somewhere. It wasn’t normal.
He’d hoped to see him curled up asleep on the sofa when he got back from the office that evening, legs akimbo, fur rubbed across the cushions as if he were trying to suggest to Ceph the sofa would look better in black and white. Failing that, curled up asleep at the foot of his bed like he did on cold nights. Even a naughty crap in the bath would have been acceptable to the wizard at this point.
Anything to get rid of the horrible thought that someone had purposefully cat-napped his cat to get revenge for his parents. It made him feel sick.
“Claaaaaude!” Ceph gave the box of dried cat food a more enthusiastic shake as he paused at the end of a narrow passageway that ran between the shops a dozen doors down. He’d seen Claude shoot out of there after scrapping with other cats, and it led to a yard shared by a fishmonger’s.
The enthusiastic shake led to the corner of the box flying open, scattering dried cat food across the cobbles of Diagon Alley.
“Shit!” Ceph exclaimed, uprighting the box on hearing the rattle of them on the ground. He gave a laboured sigh and reached into his navy blue duffel coat pocket for his wand to clear away the mess, catching sight of someone the other side of the alley.
“Not seen a smug looking black and white cat have you?” Ceph called to the wizard, the dried food pieces bouncing across the cobbles back towards him as he cast wordlessly. The top of a dustbin beside the passageway entrance rattled and lifted, allowing the food to leap up and fly in.
There was something familiar about the guy he’d just asked, Ceph thought, looking back again and paying better attention. “Do I know you?”
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Chilly as it were, Arcturus had little care for the cold and even less for whatever was happening around him as he took a stroll through Diagon trailing bluish smoke. The end of his cigarette glowed brighter for a moment as he pulled on it, feeling the blanket of calm settle on him.
He leaned against a wall to let the feeling sink in, cushioned by his coat and shielded by the side of the building from the light breeze. It was not that late for people to be wandering about in the alley, though fairly advanced into the night that these people were few and far between. Arcturus liked that. It was solitude and yet a reminder that he wasn't completely alone.
The man he'd seen rattling a box had stopped opposite of him. Arcturus watched as a cat would in mild interest, not moving save for the trail of smoke winding its way up in front of his face. Apparently this fellow was calling for something - a pet? Dog? No, a dog would come running if it weren't engaged. A cat? Maybe. There were a lot of cats in the alley that would've liked the food now flying all over the place, but tonight was not that night.
“Not seen a smug looking black and white cat have you?” Arcturus shook his black and white head, and went back to closing his eyes and enjoying another pull, other hand in pocket to keep warm. He'd forgotten his gloves.
“Do I know you?” Arcturus opened his eyes mid-inhale and automatically focused properly on the wizard asking him. He frowned a little, digging around in his head for any recollection or even impression that he'd ever seen this person. Information that had long since not been used tended to get lost in his memory.
The other wizard looked like he was an expecting an answer. Arcturus wasn't coming up with anything, but he felt pressured to reply. "Um, I'm not sure," he said, taking his cigarette between his fingers. "Do you live in Diagon? Maybe just as passers-by."
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The bloke smoking didn’t seem to fussed about answering at first. Cepheus approached cautiously as the rubbish bin lid clanged shut over the spilled cat food. It would have only been eaten by the rats, rather than cats, he figured.
“I do.” He confirmed with a nod, “Perhaps.” He shrugged and appeared to be turning away, the box of biscuits rattling as he did.
“Sorry for bothering you,” he apologised automatically like any good British person, and stopped in the middle of the Alley, looking one way and then the other with frustrated despair at the absence of Claude.
“I’d do the same,” he spoke again, as if he hadn’t just apologised for bothering and implied he’d not speak to the other wizard, “only I’ve probably had half a dozen already today. Been one of those weeks.” He looked back to the wizard with black and white hair, sneaking another look at his features, and gestured smoking with his hand, light coloured spruce wood wand caught between his fingers as a cigarette might.
“I do know you. Gosh it’s been a while.” Cepheus remarked, wandering a few paces closer. “Couple of ‘claws - you were a few years behind me? Ceph Gamp.” He pinned the box of cat food between his knees, skinny maroon jeans just visible beneath the long duffle coat. His wand went back inside it before he offered his hand to shake. “You er, rescued me once.” He studied the other man’s face for recognition, “The er, muck heap … care of magical creatures.” Ceph blushed, “Merlin, this is embarrassing if you’re not who I think you are.”
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Arcturus nodded at his apology just as automatically and took another pull. Did this week warrant that much inhaling? Probably. Ever since the 12th he'd been feeling slightly down in the dumps. A feeling he couldn't shake off no matter how much he tried to spend time making himself happy in his favourite things. Work was, as usual, no less busy and stressful. Things tended to pile up.
The other wizard surprised him. He opened his eyes, wondering if the wizard just wanted to talk to someone. That wasn't a problem, plenty of people just wanted to talk to him, it was just that they asked first. He watched the wizard make a similar gesture to his, although not his smoking style - Arcturus fancied holding his cigarettes between the thumb and forefinger, with the glowing end hidden safely behind a palm. But no doubt the other wizard was used to the activity.
Ceph Gamp. Some furious digging was going down. Arcturus' gaze drifted as he tried to recall. Muck heap? Care of magical creatures? That felt like aeons ago. But there was a muck heap, and his little kid self making an effort (badly) pulling on a hand sticking out of it. The embarrassment from the consequential muffled "Ow! No!" was something he did remember a bit too well for his liking.
"I do remember that," he said, getting off the wall. "You got put there by Slytherins, am I right? Something like that? And we managed to get you clean...somehow." Like bubbles in a swamp slowly rising to the surface to pop and release its gaseous contents, another memory had managed to hitch a ride to the top. "And you...you're the one who helped me to the hospital wing on my first flying lesson. I'd never had a dislocated jaw in my life before 'til that. Arcturus Hollingbury."
He clapped his hand to the proffered one in a firm grip, just as another bubble popped. "You're Andromeda's brother, aren't you?" he asked abruptly. "I remember that...letter."
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That had been one terrible day in Spring 1994, Ceph’s sixth year at Hogwarts. He’d been mucking out Hagrid’s hippogriffs, since the Slytherins had declared that Buckbeak and the rest of them were far too dangerous to muck out following Draco Malfoy's incident. In Ceph's opinion, Buckbeak could have saved them all the whining of Malfoy by eating him whole.
Thankfully the muck heap Cepheus ended up in hadn’t been the one the hippogriff dung went into, but the herbivore dung instead. Small mercies. Instead the third years had been mucking out those and this wizard, well, 17 years earlier, had been one of those.
”… by Slytherins, am I right?” Ceph cracked a self-conscious smile. He’d always been weedier and an easy target for Slytherins who found amusement in upending unsuspecting students with little risk of instant retaliation.
“Yes!” He agreed, forgetting that incident until it was mentioned. He felt a little better now for the equality in embarrassing memories. “Doesn’t look like it affected you long term.” He smiled warmly as they shook hands.
Arcturus Hollingbury! Gosh, he was another shorter one - though he’d shot up a bit since Ceph had last seen him, an inch, maybe two, taller than himself stood on the street there. Long, elegant nose, subtle smile, softer spoken than he remembered.
“Letter?” Ceph asked, releasing Arc’s hand. He caught the cat food in one hand and placed it down between his feet on the cobbles, “Oh yes! You and Andie - the year after I left.” He clapped a hand to the top of his head, squashing his dark brown hair on remembering.
“Sorry about that, just had to fulfil the big brother obligations, though actually my sister would have handed you your backside had you not been such a gentleman.” He glanced more carefully to Arcturus. “You were a gentleman, right? I know you two didn’t… Though right, yes, she mentioned she ran into you the other day.” His hands animated his conversation, gesturing between them both. “Hadn’t expected to run into you myself.” He gave a slightly exaggerated shrug.
“How are you doing, anyhow? You look well.” Ceph asked, his tone altogether a lot more positive than it had been calling after his missing cat a few minutes earlier.
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While Arcturus had most of the people in his house fade into obscurity in his head, the memory of dislocating his jaw had stayed strong with him. It might not have defined his strong dislike for broomsticks, but it may have been the start of darkness, as it were.
"Me? Gentle-- aha." That date. He knew he had an awkward, almost terribly contrite grin on his face, and he wasn't about to change it. "If you meant something more than just sitting down in whatsthatplace - Madam Puddifoot's, that's it - no, nothing of that vein at all. I was well aware your sister was more than skilled in taking care of herself. Not going to kick a wasp's nest."
Arcturus' eyes dropped to the box of cat food momentarily. "I've been--" Great? "--good. Job, living, maybe just one of those people with a normal job. Nothing exciting, but I like it that way. What about you, where are you working now? You were really into magizoology last time, but, you know, things could've changed." He offered a less terrible smile before taking a quick puff on his still lighted cigarette.
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”.. not going to kick a wasp’s nest.” Arcturus remarked and Ceph laughed. Sounded like Andie. Even back then as a fourth year she could kick you in the shins as good as another. He felt very glad Andromeda was his sister and not his enemy.
Hollingbury modestly explained what he’d been doing since the wizarding world had gone to shit and sorted itself out. He was pretty sure Andie had mentioned something about him being a healer. Best not to assume too much, what with both siblings running into the poor guy in a month or however long. He might get some strange idea the Gamps were stalking him.
"- you were really into magizoology last time…”
“I was - I am, well, not so much the beasts, but beings these days.” He shrugged his shoulders very gently. “I was at Gringotts a couple of years, then worked my way up in the Ministry when Shacklebolt took over.” He gave a bashful smile, slipping his hands into his navy duffle coat’s pockets. “Being Division Head, these days.”
It felt like he was bragging to say it like that, but didn’t mean it. It was pride, it was still the fact he pinched himself once or twice a week while brushing his teeth.
“Merlin, look at the two of us. Adults. Mortgages, marriages… maturity?” He raised both his eyebrows, leaning back ever so slightly. “I’ve achieved none of them, personally - can't even find my ruddy cat. You?”
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"Sounds like you've been having yourself a grand time," he said sincerely. "Congratulations on getting to division head. No, I've achieved none of that either." Arcturus looked around. "So that's what you've been doing out here rattling that box? Looking for your cat? If I'm any judge it'll probably come back later and make you worry yourself to bits, or already be back at home, but don't hold me to that - I own a kneazle who can't be bothered to leave the house unless I make him."
He gestured into the almost deserted alleyway with the hand holding the cigarette. "Do you want help looking for your cat? I'm no animal tracker, but two heads are better than one and no one should have to hunt for their pet alone. Cats." He shrugged. "I'm not doing anything of any importance, so let me just stop loitering and give you a hand."
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“Thank you.” Ceph replied quietly, bowing his head a second as Arcturus continued. “Really? Hm, Claude is a creature of habit,” the former Ravenclaw leaned down again to retrieve the bright red and yellow box of Chimeramix, fingers checking it was secured properly to avoid any more spillages.
“He’s been gone two days, which is very unlike him. Food untouched at home.” Cepheus gestured generally in the direction he had walked, the box rattling. He lived above Floribuster’s Florist - Claude was rather fond of watching the comings and goings from within their windowboxes. The florists hadn’t spotted him when he asked.
“Hopefully he will just turn up at home, be there licking his arse as if he’s been there all along.” His look down the alley defied his happy optimism that the cat would do just that. He genuinely missed it - the flat was very quiet without him. Merlin! The thing had only been gone two nights!
"Do you want help looking for your cat?” Arc's offer was incredibly kind, but instantly made Ceph realise he was perhaps worrying far too much about it. Hollingbury was being polite - he'd almost ambushed the poor chap in the street while he had a smoke.
"I er - gosh, that's very kind of you and all, but - I just ran into you, and you don't need to feel obligated. As you say, he'll probably just turn up, I erm..." For all his backtracking he suddenly looked at Arcturus properly. It was an unconventional way to reacquaint oneself certainly, but there were worse ways.
... They'd done worse ways. At least there was no manure or broomsticks involved this time.
"That's very kind of you, Arcturus. Are you entirely sure?" Typically that was a question one could only answer with the positive or an incredibly sarcastic answer that was, again, the positive. "Here, try shaking that, I'll try..."
The marginally shorter wizard reached out the box to Hollingbury and then stuck two fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly, heading in the same direction he had been before he came across his old classmate.
"Been trying to train him to the whistle," Ceph explained, "does that work on Kneazles? Claaaude!" He whistled loudly again. "Sorry, what did you say you did again?"
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Cepheus' whistling made Arcturus jump, though he pretended he hadn't. He looked down at the box in his hand; he had definitely agreed to this, but he wasn't so sure about their chances of finding the cat tonight now come to think of it.
Arcturus however didn't have the heart to be that blunt to someone he'd meet after not seeing them for such a long time. A little bit of hope didn't hurt.
"It doesn't work on kneazles," he admitted. "I'm not so sure about cats. Does Claude hunt? He might get hungry and come back when, you know, he has no food. Sorry?" He had been so intent on following that train of thought about the cat. "Oh, what I do? I'm a healer with St Mungo's, Potion and Plant Poisoning. Have been for the past decade." And forever felt that he still had a long way to go. "Just a healer, nothing too fancy." He gave the box a somewhat reluctant but loud rattle. "Nothing too exciting, either. I don't remember seeing you around that much, did you ever leave the country? Wait, that's a bit of a silly question, I imagine you did due to your line of work." He gave a nervous laugh, suddenly aware that he was terrible at asking personal questions.
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“Really?” Ceph replied, stopping himself from whistling to remark. “You see, just as admirable, if not more admirable than an auror. You’re not blowing people up, you’re putting them back together. That’s definitely the harder job. Though, poisoning, that’s more reassembling the organs once they’ve drunk the wrong potion, hmm?”
”Nothing too exciting, either. I don’t remember seeing you around that much…” Arc asked, and gave a little nervous laugh. It was somewhat endearing to Ceph who felt his old classmate was just being polite and helping him after they’d struck up an awkward conversation.
“Here and there,” Cepheus admitted, he’d not gone in for the big world tour that so many pureblood types did from Britain after Hogwarts, his was a rather more modest affair with a handful of friends. “Not a huge amount of travelling with the Goblin Office. Did a bit a few years ago - working with giants.” Ceph’s fingers had relaxed away from his mouth to whistle and were instead tapping one of the wood fastenings on his coat as he looked to Arc.
"You know they’re at risk of extinction, right?” Probably not, but perhaps he did now, "Well, humans seem infinitely intelligent in comparison. At least we wizards have some variety in the way we settle disputes. Half the point of finding them new habitats was to spread them out and slow the rate they accelerate their own extinction.” Ceph near matched Arc’s nervous laugh, trying to make the other wizard feel a bit better for the questions. “Though in truth, each Being just has a different culture, a different method to navigate the world than we do, without wands. It’s perfectly fascinating as much as it’s ruddy tedious.” He gave another shrill whistle. “Claaaude!”
Curtains twitched at an upstairs window above a green grocer’s they’d wandered in front of, a burly looking figure, lit from behind, disgruntled with the noise they were making.
“Seen a black and white cat?” Ceph appealed up to the window observer, but was resolutely ignored. “Incredibly helpful Sir. Have a lovely evening.” He turned back to Arc and reached out a hand for the box of dried food. “Here, I don’t think I’m going to have much luck tonight without annoying the neighbours. I’ve bothered one enough to have him wander with me shaking cat food in public.” He smiled and bobbed his head, hoping Arc got the joke. “Fancy a cup of tea?”
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The words about giants made Arcturus' ears perk up. Though he gave up care of magical creatures after NEWTs there was always something interesting in terms of other people's experiences. He listened quietly and without objection, trying to imagine negotiating with giants. As far as he could try and extrapolate on how one would settle disagreements with a giant, he didn't see much being achieved that didn't end up in disaster or magic being used somehow.
"I think it's more fascinating that there's people who actively try to seek those ways out to establish inter-species communication," he said quietly. "For those who succeed, they open up a new world of knowledge. For those who don't...well, they still did something other than fighting, I guess. There's better things than listening to a patient and wondering how many times you've got to tell them to check the labels before drinking--" He jumped again at Cepheus' shrill whistle from nowhere next to his ear.
A part of him hoped that the disgruntled neighbour wouldn't come hurtling down the steps to chuck some probably well-deserved verbal abuse at them, and was relieved that said neighbour didn't. He handed the box back to Cepheus with a chuckle at his joke. "It's not a bother." He waved the hand holding his cigarette vaguely in some direction. "I can't say no to a cup of tea, so you have my attention. Does your cat do this frequently? I hope not frequently enough for you to become an expected sight at this time of the night with your box."
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“No,” Ceph admitted, tucking the box under his arm and turning back the way they had come. “If he did I’d be less worried.” Behind them the curtains at the window were sharply drawn shut on observing their retreat. “Heh, or maybe you’ll meet him in a minute.”
The pair wandered at a more ordinary paced down the Alley, past where Arcturus had been smoking. On the opposite side of the road a shop with sizeable glass windows was lit up, throwing puddles of light onto the cobbles. The air was filled with a slightly sickly floral scent. The cobbles outside Floribuster's were swept clean each morning and evening, though the clutter just inside the door of the shop suggested that a number of the displays were pulled outside in business hours.
Sandwiched between it and the building next to it was an arched passageway full of shadows which opened up into a little courtyard full of empty crates and buckets. Here the floral scent subsided to something more reminiscent of the Hogwarts greenhouses, less blooms and more damp greenery. A set of stone steps with a wrought iron railing laced with a climbing plant, led straight up against the side wall of the florists. It rose over the crates stashed beneath it, and with familiar ease, Ceph darted up them, cat food rattling as he jogged.
At the top he turned to his right to attend to the blue front door, complete with cat flap, leaving his guest paused a few steps down. A jam jar nestled on the doorstep was filled with a dozen cigarette ends was the only blot on the steps, which like the front of the shop were swept clean.
“Here we go,” Ceph spoke at last, the door giving way. The lamps lit and flared, flooding light into a poky little room. It smelled of wax leather coats and shoe polish - the source becoming obvious once Arcturus had followed him in. Coats and cloaks hung to the left beside a well-stocked shoe rack full of boots, wellingtons and more casual footwear. An enchanted brush was independently buffing a pair of brown leather brogues on the top of the rack.
“Claude?"
From here the flat extended on one level to their right, heading back towards the Alley. Once Ceph had hung up his duffle coat he led Arcturus through into a hallway, closed doors to their left suggesting a bathroom, bedroom, perhaps two or a study. Apart from a ravaged toy mouse on the hall floor, there was no signs of his elusive cat.
The kitchen at the end of the hall smelled faintly of Bolognese from dinner but was altogether homely and rather tidy. Despite growing up with a house elf serving the Gamp household, his mother had made sure to teach Cepheus the most useful of domestic charms, which saved a lot of effort. He took a look at the cat food bowls again, but nothing was disturbed.
“How do you take your tea?” Ceph asked, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He reached into a cupboard, pulling out a tin of assorted teas, opening them for Arcturus to inspect. None of them quite seemed to match and gave the distinct feeling a few of them were acquired from the odd Ministry meeting buffet selection.
A short while later the pair wandered into the living room, carrying mugs that suggested Ceph’s love of cats went beyond casual ownership by the designs. Without thinking anything of it, Gamp gestured to one side of the sofa and sank down on the other.
“So you must have had a busy few months, I mean, particularly, at the hospital?” Ceph resumed conversation, moving on from casual discussion of their tea collections, enjoying Arc’s company in the kitchen while the kettle boiled. “What with the serious issue of your supplies being tampered with. However did you cope?”
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Arcturus kept quiet as he followed, observing the changing surroundings as his new reacquaintance led him down the alley and into a place that he was not familiar with. Unlike the street-level front door to their apartment, this place was tucked away. Almost neatly, he thought distractedly.
He paused to take a deep breath of the earthy, moist scent of the florist's backyard, letting Cepheus bound up the stairs in the dim light. It wasn't as if the smell was rare for him, but he just liked it. Smells and sights and sounds, a lot of sensory information Arcturus savoured.
"Here we go." Cepheus' voice brought Arcturus back down to earth. He climbed the steps, noted the jar full of cigarette ends, and then instinctively felt the smell of shoe polish replace the fresh earth still lingering in his sinuses. Well. It could have been worse. He extinguished the fading remains of his own cigarette and, partially out of respect and partially because it tickled his whim, added it to the jar.
No meow answered his companion's call. Arcturus took the liberty of hanging up his own coat and scarf, politely sidestepped the sad little lump of artificial rodent on the floor and stopped to appreciate the neatness that surrounded him. He liked everything being organised, and this was ticking off little cosy and homely boxes down some internal subconscious interior design checklist that had its items scattered about the bowels of his mind. Not that he preferred it over the safety and familiarity of the flat he shared with Elixa, or the closeness that his parents' house offered, but this was a different presentation of a home that he could appreciate fully.
"Two sugars," he answered Cepheus' query, hoping there would be no comment on level of saccharine. Under his coat he had eschewed his characteristic usual hoodie for a hastily pulled on jumper. He hadn't thought much about dressing properly for anything since February 12, work notwithstanding. Arcturus also hoped that the last-minute fashion sense wouldn't earn a comment either.
The mugs. Arcturus himself had no comment to make.
"Oh, you mean the contamination?" That was just buying time. Arcturus avoided thinking back to it as much as he could these days. Not only was it a dampener on one's day, he had no intention to stir the pot of suspicions he had of a certain curly-haired friend - friend? redefinition possibly needed - that lurked in some murky room of his mind. "I, well, when you're faced with people's lives teetering on the edge you either focus or panic. I personally incline towards the former." He hoped his discomfort wouldn't show through. It was a topic he'd shelved and hoped he didn't have to get up to go fetch it out again.
"I hope no one you're related to was involved on the wrong end?" he asked, hoping that Cepheus would say no. In the event of a yes, he was prepared to wince. "At the end of the day it wasn't our fault, but it doesn't lessen the severity and definitely not the rumours flying around like Cornish pixies on caffeine. Um." He looked down at the mug he'd carried. The judgemental eyes of the painted dancing feline on the ceramic bore into his soul, and in the face of its oddly entrancing stare he wasn't able to find anything to balance this conversation out.
"Hopefully no one we know," he said awkwardly. Here comes the awkward pause right about...now.
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“Mm,” Ceph gave a nod as Arcturus clarified what he was asking.
”… focus or panic. I personally incline towards the former.” Hollingbury explained, and Ceph nodded, balancing his mug on his folded knee as he listened.
“Not closely, no, thankfully. Well, you know what I mean.” Cepheus reconsidered, conscious that made him sound selfish, and lapsed into silence, listening to Arcturus explain. “I have heard a few of the rumours, yes, and the Prophet occasionally runs an article on the latest theory, but it’s relegated to page nine by now. I expect the hospital are keen to suppress the public’s memory of it all.” His thumb rubbed gently against the side of his mug and he looked to Arcturus apologetically. “Sorry, you mentioned you were on the poisoning floor, and it came to mind - probably not the best conversation topic.” He averted his eyes self-consciously.
They shared the awkward pause, sipping their tea.
“You listen to the wireless much?” Gamp asked suddenly, seizing on a safer topic. “There’s a band playing in Rover’s Fancy next weekend... I was thinking of going along - if you’re not working you should join me.” By me he maybe meant whoever else he could convince to come to the pub, but posed casually like that, it might be perceived entirely differently. He sipped his tea, wincing at the temperature. “Bit different to last weekend anyhow. I was at some blind date event.”
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"It's, it's fine, it still is a topic of relevance. Aha." How do you say it in a way that didn't sound like you weren't very happy about that? Thankfully Cepheus changed the subject, Arc was only too glad to latch on. "I was there last weekend too for the same reason. Yes, I do listen to the wireless - which band is it?" His favourite teetered on the tip of his tongue for a moment, but he ultimately did not elaborate on it.
"I guess I can go, I don't work on weekends unless I get called for an emergency." The healer's badge nestled in his pocket even right now. It was like a security blanket, he'd even entertained the idea of using it as a get-away card if anything got too awkward for him to handle.
"Who was your blind date last weekend? I didn't dare look at the options available, all I know is that my housemate was there as well." His tone was one of embarrassment. "How'd it go? I might have gone with slightly higher expectations than was needed, but live and let live."
He took another sip of tea, wondering at how far he'd managed to get being this painfully socially awkward. "Is there anyone else you've invited?" he asked abruptly, thought borne in the wake of his musings. "Just wondering. I've never been to a live band performance before, it would be interesting."
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“Uhh - let's see if I can find the flyer.” Ceph set aside his mug of tea and hopped to his feet, approaching a desk set before one of the windows looking out over the street. It was generally tidy though had a stack of paperwork beside an inkwell. He rifled through his in-tray as Arcturus continued.
”Who was your blind date last weekend?” Arc asked as Ceph rifled through a few letters opened but still in envelopes. There it was! He trailed back to the sofa, flopping down, leaving the flyer on the cushions between them.
“My date had his finger broken…” Cepheus explained, “the infamous Rascal Rosier and I were paired.” He shook his head, lips curled in amusement at the memory. “It was never going to be straightforward, if you know his work. Certainly different.” Ceph replied, not looking to Arcturus but away to a point on the living room floor as he visualised the scene in his mind. ”Interesting.” He added and blinked.
He was about to return the question to Arc when he abruptly asked Cepheus another question about the following weekend. The cup of tea paused on the way to Ceph’s lips, a tabby cat chasing a ball of wool across the design.
“You’ll enjoy it. Live music is less polished, more raw than recordings. A new interpretation of a piece and different acoustics.” He assured Arcturus and nudged the flyer across. “Even if I only know a couple of their songs. Apparently they’re Irish, probably why they’re performing at Rover’s with with Delacroix’s theme.” He watched the other wizard retrieve the green paper. “Nobody else invited…” Ceph added, watching Arc’s reaction, yet poised on the tip of his tongue.
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"I hope it wasn't you doing the breaking," Arcturus said, hoping his light tone wouldn't be taken seriously. He'd vaguely heard of Rosier, but was not at all familiar with his work. The healer's books were strictly academic in nature.
He picked up the flyer. Even before he'd looked at it properly, the knotted border had caught his eye and abruptly lodged his heart in his throat. The snaking border constantly moved in its eternal looping, and he knew exactly one band that made the moving knotted border its signature advert mark. Afraid that what he was guessing may not be right, he checked it properly.
No, he was right. The bold silver-edged bronze typeface of the Wild Aethonans shimmered in defiance of his second-guessing. He wasn't sure what to make of it, then that moment passed and he smiled.
It took him a few moments to find his words. "This is brilliant. I...how did Rover's manage to book them in? I thought they preferred to perform in Ireland only..." He looked up and realised Cepheus was still watching him in that quiet manner that was starting to get to him in a strange way.
"I know this band, their music is enough of a reason for me to leave the wireless on," he explained, trying to hide enthusiasm in front of Cepheus. "I know a bit about them, but it'd be great to see them live." His tone hardly matched the rest of his head, which was currently roused from its quiet reverie to now marvel and run about in excitement.
"I... yes, I'm definitely coming. Count me in." He looked up at Cepheus, catching the intent gaze from the pair of deep-set blue eyes. "Thank you. I wouldn't normally know about this, if not for you."
-
From modest mouse came something brighter in Arcturus at the other end of the sofa. Arcturus had a rather charming smile! His reacquainted classmate showed recognition at the flyer, far more than Cepheus had when he’d found it in his jacket pocket after a night out. Someone had pressed it upon him, and his inebriated self had decided to keep it with him. Fortunate - if not fate.
“You do?” Ceph asked, even though as much was obvious. “That’s handy - they are good then?” Truth be that if the music was bad it was just a reason to drink a bit and attempt conversation over the noise until decamping to somewhere else in Diagon Alley for a better atmosphere. Now that Arc suggested he knew about these ones, and the fact Delacroix didn’t book horrific bands, Saturday next seemed all the more promising. Even if the healer was just compelled to leave his wireless on when they played.
“Alright!” Gamp exclaimed when Arc agreed to come and reached his mug across in a toast of mugs in mild celebration. “No trouble, more the merrier.” He took a healthy sip of his tea, curiosity getting the better of him. “So who did you end up paired with last weekend, now I’ve admitted mine - ah, and no, not me breaking fingers.” He gave Arcturus a reassuringly warm smile.
-
"They are good then?" Arcturus hesitated. He would readily admit to having unconventional interests and a heavy bias in favour of the Wild Aethonans, and not everyone would share his.
"I think they're good," he said slowly. "Though I haven't met like-minded individuals, that could be because I've not gone out much, and they release music fairly slowly. But I've listened to them since they formed in mid-2000." And that, he firmly decided, was enough letting someone else know that he was actually an avid fan. Any sufficiently intelligent person would be able to deduce it by now, and he felt Cepheus was at least on that level.
Still hesitant but a little more conducive to this agreement, he let their mugs make contact with a little dink. "Frederick Dodger. That was an interesting time, but I'd rather not talk about it." There were many choice adjectives he would've used to replace 'interesting', but he'd chosen to put it behind him and move on. Best thing to do, really.
His tea was finishing. Arcturus took another sip, well aware of this and even more aware of another awkward pause. He had no idea what to continue with. Perhaps this was why he'd rather make excursions with friends where there was some other activity to fall back on. This was all so terribly awkward.
-
Cepheus gave a gentle shrug to Hollingbury’s suggestion that he didn’t want to elaborate on his random pairing with the eccentric Dodger. It suggested it hadn’t turned out well - modesty and overtly outgoing hadn’t matched. Maybe he even felt a little bit glad. The question killed the conversation dead. Modest and a little shy, Ceph thought to himself, his sister must have been rather intimidating.
“Well, was all just meant to be a bit of fun,” he suggested, smiling easily “I don’t think anyone actually comes away with anything but a sense of relief that they’re not the strangest in the room.” He finished his cup of tea and gestured with it. “Top up? There’s another in the pot…” His free hand extended to Arcturus to take his mug, moving to stand up from the sofa.
The kitchen and living room were one open room together, and over the bubble of tea from the spout of the navy teapot and the ring of the teaspoon in china he seized upon a safe topic that Ravenclaw alumni were sure to be able to answer.
“What are you reading at the moment?”
-
“I don’t think anyone actually comes away with anything but a sense of relief that they’re not the strangest in the room.” Arcturus stopped himself from opposing that view, but the head-shaking was automatic. Whether Gamp noticed or not - well, if he asked, Arcturus would offer up an explanation. If not, nothing would be said.
He accepted Cepheus' offer for more tea, and then sat back wondering why he'd done that. Usually by this time he was raring to escape from the grasp-- all right, it wasn't that bad, or deserving of such a description. Maybe it was the couch or something.
“What are you reading at the moment?” The train of thought regarding the couch smoothly changed tracks.
"Faulkner's Dissertation on Liquid Control in Charms," he said, listening for the sounds of tea gurgling into a container and the clink of a spoon. "Namely, better control over charms that involve the use of liquids. Remember those times in Charms class when learning the Water-Making Charm[1] meant a slippery floor and multiple people missing their candle flame by a mile?" Well, he did because he'd near slipped on the floor a few times. "Or maybe not, Flitwick may not have done that with you all, but I could be wrong."
There was a pause, and then he added, "...am I?"
-
“Uhmm…” Cepheus tilted his head back, lifting his eyes to the ceiling of the living room while he thought back to those days in Charms. “Yes, I think I recall doing Augamenti with candles now you mention, but perhaps also with buckets?” His tone meandered as he wasn’t entirely sure. They were thinking back about 20 years or so! He added two sugars again to Arc’s tea and stirred.
“So, Faulkner has studied what, the rate, flow, quantity?” He asked, deciding to pursue the topic further, since it sounded interesting. Experimental charms was a popular aspiration for a Ravenclaw though Ceph’s interests had been rather more focused on creatures way back, even if he had taken a NEWT in charms and another in transfiguration. “I’d ask what he surmises only I imagine if you’re reading you perhaps have covered the literature review and hi- their hypotheses.” He corrected his assumption that Faulkner was a man.
He set aside the teaspoon beside the blue teapot and carried both mugs through to the living room again, appearing at Arc’s right elbow at the end of the sofa to pass him the mug back, nodding as he listened. He drifted across the living room to a bookcase, mug in his left hand, and raked his fingers through his dark hair as he examined the shelves, wondering if he had something he might lend Arcturus if he was reading dissertations on fluid dynamics.
“Anything I have on liquids is on aquatic lifeforms - preserving habitats and the likes, though merpeople do not come under my remit. There’s a fantastic map of the preserved territories of the British isles hanging in the bedroom.” He gestured with his cup of tea in the direction of the hallway again though made no move as if to encourage Arcturus to leap up and view it.
"Charms is your thing then, other than healing?” Ceph asked, looking away from the shelves to his visitor.
-
"Aguamenti is a basic ideal of how the water flows once it appears which then dictates the strength and quantity for a set duration with no flexibility," Arcturus said, his mind setting to automatic. "It stays on one flow rate until it ends. Faulkner however brings up the subject of people in other countries and cultures who can control water by combining hand gestures and variations in prefixes and suffixes of their language--" and here he caught and stopped himself. "Long story short, that's...more or less what I've been trying to do with Aguamenti, but the limitations of the spell appear to demand innovation rather than improvement at this point."
A high level of self-awareness, he felt, was either a blessing in disguise or a curse. Even to a fellow Ravenclaw alumnus it didn't feel...right to just rattle off about studies. Maybe back in Hogwarts, when a simple quest to answer the Ravenclaw common room's daily questions turned into an expedition into the wonders the library held between bound leather smelling faintly of glue and magic. Today? Not anymore.
In the silence he sipped the tea again, trying to keep down what he sensed was an incoming, gradual trickle of unease and discomfort towards himself. Why did he have to make it this hard? Why was he still here, anyway?
"It's not just charms," he admitted, looking up at his host but not actually focusing straight on him. "It's usually something that relates to what I need at the time being. I just happen to need a charm that allows me to manipulate liquids in my work, and slime from eels that might be beneficial to healing, and...you know. Out of necessity. Barring divination, I have yet to find any use of that in my work." He still regretted his choice of elective in his third year.
"Um...thank you for the offer, but I'm more into the fauna of the Aegean Sea at the moment. The cold water around the British Isles is home to many creatures beneficial to my work, but I'm not in any way the slightest inclined to take a dip in the freezing waters." He gave a lopsided smile at the empty air, eyes diverted from Cepheus and instead gazing unfocused in the direction of the kitchen. "The Aegean is a lot warmer."
Stopping himself from rambling was hard. He took a sip again, just in case. "What are you doing these days? Giants seem exciting - may have been too exciting for you - but surely you're still not out there working on them? Or have you moved on to a less risky project?"
-
Arcturus elaborated on Faulkner’s paper without hesitation, at least until he reached the end of his explanation and looked decidedly awkward as if he’d done something wrong. Ceph wondered if he was infringing on Arc’s downtime, if the second cup of tea had been less of a choice to his guest and more an insistence. Perhaps he was subconsciously replacing Claude’s company with an old acquaintance. At least this one held two-sided conversation and didn’t shit in the bath. Well, he better not.
Staring in Ceph’s vague direction, Arc deflected to discussing the temperature of seawater, which Ceph echoed with a polite confirmation that it probably was warmer in the Aegean. The North Sea wasn’t the warmest place one could take a dip.
“I oversee all the work with Beings, so that’s giants, yes, vampires, goblins, house elves, hags, veela... The Werewolf Wing manages itself.” Ceph’s fingers reached for the shelves, his tone meandering with the distraction. He pulled a slender dark red bound volume from one above his head height and carried it back with him across the room. He took a seat on the sofa again, ever so slightly closer to the middle, comfortable in his own home. “I only took over at the start of year, so early days, but I’m making my way round the different teams to really get to know my Division.” He explained to Arcturus, reaching over to set his tea down before opening the book.
“Lately I’ve focused on matters such as the lack of blood supplies for vampires.” He paused, thinking on recent news of a loss of those supplies, “But giants, well, it’s almost five years ago, but I was part of Operation Molehill.”
Cepheus extended the book towards Arcturus. It wasn’t particularly long - a collection of research papers written by the team involved. The initial page with contents was printed Mountains or Molehills? Strategies for Giant Population Reintroduction: The British Isles, followed by a list of papers, C.A.Gamp littered beside several of them from studies on population growth to socioeconomic impacts.
“Really, if you boiled it down, I was one of a team of a estate agents for giants displaced by the war to encourage them to move to Britain. Colonies were practically extinct here, and the Ministry were almost invested in driving it to full extinction. I was working in the Goblin Office, they called for volunteers to be put on operation for some months, curiosity got the better of me.” He shrugged, and reached across Arcturus, leafing forward through the pages. “There’s some charming photos towards the end of us running for our lives when two of the Gurgs went for each other, an illustration elaborating the required territorial space of a tribe.” Despite himself, he chuckled a little at the photograph - a fond memory now, ‘charming' somewhat sarcasm as a descriptor of the wizards sprinting from the falling rocks.
“You ever seen a giant?” he asked Arc, looking up with a gentle smile.
-
Arcturus listened to Gamp's explanation, occasionally skimming through the writings when Cepheus paused. So this was one of the many things going on while he was working late nights in the hospital. The illustrations provided fascinating windows, he'd have to admit that.
"Sorry? Oh, have I seen a giant?" He pondered back on his lessons on creatures at school. "No, I don't think-- oh wait, yes. I have. It must have been amazing at times for you, even if fraught with risk...I don't particularly like giants." He refrained from saying why.
"You've paved some path for people who might follow in your footsteps later, I feel," he said, flipping a page over, head bowed eyes skimming over the words. Phrases in particular jumped out at him. While his experiences with giants hadn't been stellar, he'd sometimes wondered if they'd been forced or bribed with empty promises. It didn't excuse the fighting, no, but it made things so much less... black and white, so to speak.
In thoughtful, absent-minded perusal, he mumbled, "It's admirable."
-
”I don’t particularly like giants.”
“Heh, few people do.” Ceph agreed, too wrapped up in just sharing information about that year to think laterally that Arc meant his experience with them was at the Battle.
”It’s admirable.”
Cepheus grinned, chuffed Arcturus thought that.
“Thanks, coming from you, that means a lot to me.” He told Hollingbury, letting the other wizard leaf through as he pleased while they sat there. “I’m named on a couple of pieces of Goblin research since with the office. Much as I enjoy and admire the quality of research in the Division, it’s important we deal with the real issues, and reflect with study. Much like I imagine your preoccupation is with dealing with the matter in hand of a patient. Though, I anticipate what with the charms reading, that you also have your own research you’d like to publish.”
Ceph reached for his tea and folded one leg over the other, leaning back on his sofa. His gaze ran evenly over his modest companion sat to his right. Arcturus smelled a little of the cigarette he’d been smoking earlier, and of the chill air outside. He hadn’t noticed it so much but now he was sat a bit closer it caught his attention. Strange to bump into each other now after living within a few hundred metres of each other - to have also been in the same event the week before and not noticed each other. Then again, Cepheus reflected, Rosier had led him out of Rover’s promptly after they’d begun. He’d barely had time to study the other attendees in detail.
Hollingbury had grown up into a respectable looking chap, with a long nose and a strong jawline. He had kind eyes, though did not appear to be the most expressive of people. Ceph remembered him as far more outgoing but then again, they’d met when they were kids, more or less. Arc seemed a pretty serious sort, which was expected - a lot of his old school housemates had grown up to take rather serious jobs in society. Healers, in his experience could have a very dark sense of humour as a coping mechanism.
-
"Though, I anticipate what with the charms reading, that you also have your own research you’d like to publish." At this Arc cracked a slight smile, if a little dry. "Hardly. While you have the evidence and research to back up your work and observations, I've not got much material on what I do. It'll be scattered here and there in various notebooks with no direction." He took a sip from the mug somewhat absently, preoccupied with illustrations done by a determined hand of the layout of a giant's cave. "Maybe eventually I'll start figuring out my own goals to aim for with my current research. It's somewhat unusual - well, I think it is even for the magical world, anyway."
He looked up at Cepheus and caught his companion's gaze, but he had other things on his mind that took priority. "As you said, more often we're caught up with patients and their issues. Experimental charms are the least of my problems." Arcturus gave a chuckle. "It's actually more fascinating to delve into matters of an anatomical nature and 'fixing' malfunctions of a living, working system that runs without magic. Of course, magic is just a tool with which we use to carry out those repairs, but the fact that we can affect it by non-magical means-- I'm sorry, I'm getting carried away." He shook his head and shut the book in his lap, careful to not crinkle the pages.
"Thank you, this was engaging," he told Cepheus, offering the book back to him. "I would read more, but it would require I hog your couch, so...best not. I have no intention of that tonight."
-
“Doesn’t mean it’s any less valid to investigate,” Ceph assured Arcturus, even if he had no idea what research Arcturus was suggesting. If it was anything to do with healing or improving healing, it was valid, though he imagined the ethical issues were even more complex than the ones he had to navigate with the Division. Beings had rights and humans were Beings too.
”It’s actually more fascinating to delve into matters of an anatomical nature and ‘fixing’ malfunctions of a living, working system…” Arcturus explained, and Ceph’s smile grew. He nodded, that was very reasonable indeed. Fascinating, extraordinary and incredibly validating as a life pursuit.
”I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away.”
“You’re not.” Cepheus assured, a fleeting press of fingers against Arc’s left upper arm as he replied. He took the red book back from Arcturus as he offered it back, and slid it onto the table before them.
”.. this was engaging.”
“It was,” He agreed, and then realised Hollingbury might have just meant the book, not the conversation! He blushed ever so slightly for the realisation, and his response about the couch came out without too much thought. “You’re welcome to come hog me - ah! My couch another night.” Mortified at the fumbled response he bit his bottom lip, eyebrows drawing together as he looked at Arcturus, indicating he hadn’t meant to say it quite like that. The signs of a departure were all there, and much as Ceph was a little sad not to chat for longer, he did appreciate it had all been spontaneous.
“I won’t keep you, mate. I’ve bent your ear about giants and got you shaking cat food in the alley when you should be putting your head down for the night so you’ve got the energy to heal people tomorrow.” Ceph dipped his head respectfully. “Thank you for the help, and the company. Here,” he reached for the flyer, and a pencil from beside a folded newspaper on the coffee table, and scrawled 312c Diagon Alley on the back, “if you’re passing, but I’ll see you at Rover’s on the 26th otherwise."
-
It felt odd to have someone actually listen to him ramble into near-academia levels and appreciate it. Pleasant feeling, though. Arc focused more on that than the oddness; it was a warm, content feeling. He didn't notice Cepheus' blush, being engaged in making sure he didn't leave anything on the couch for it to be engulfed by its darkness.
"I-- ha, I won't hog you. Glad you're all right with hogging the couch, though." Arc smiled a little at his statement on talking a donkey's leg off on giants. It was fine. Something different. It was nice to focus on something different for a while.
"Well, giants were an interesting topic, and maybe that was energy enough for a day dealing with people," he said. "Same with shaking cat food like the maracas. Good luck with your cat, I hope he comes back safe. If you need anymore help finding him I'll be glad to pitch in." He watched Gamp scribble away and took the proffered flyer. 312c, huh. They were almost neighbours.
"See you at Rover's," he agreed, slipping the flyer into his pocket.
End