Dinnertime


Maiko would not be a good counselor if she didn’t notice habits that certain individuals had—and these habits also included their eating habits. If they were vegetarian, if they avoided dairy, or if someone didn’t like vegetables. She also noticed whether or not people showed up during mealtimes. For the students, it was much more difficult, since there were far more students than there were staff members. As a result, she had easily picked up on the fact that a certain Durmstrang professor showed up for lunch, but rarely for dinner. When he did show up, he seemed to avoid meat.

Her mother-hen nature kicked in, and she decided to make Atash Hendurabi a surprise meal. Rumor had it that he had been spending a bit of time in an abandoned classroom on the sixth floor. She wasn’t sure how well received her visit was going to be, but he seemed like too polite a man to refuse her food for too long. They had met a few more times in passing, and he had been just as polite and distant as usual. Part of her wanted him to open up, but the other part of her honestly didn’t care. His life was his business, and it didn’t look like Atash needed any sort of psychological help.

The witch gingerly carried a box, careful not to jiggle it and cause the food to spill.  Navigating the hallways had proved to be as easy as it had been in her last few years of Hogwarts. It did not take a  long time for her to go from her office on the ground floor to his room on the sixth. Once she got there, she realized her dilemma. The door was closed. The handle was an old fashioned knobby one. Her hands were full.  She could either knock, or attempt to open the door with either her head or her feet.

Maiko leaned against the edge of the door and lifted her foot up, placing it on the handle and hoping that her shoes had a good grip. Getting the foot up there wasn’t the difficult part, figuring out how to turn the knob was. She muttered a few French profanities before—SUCCESS!  The door opened.

But—oh, merde. She was leaning against this. Mai cursed at herself for not thinking about this all the way through. It was too late for her to catch her balance, and at this point the food was of higher importance than whether or not she injured herself. Mai held the box out in an attempt to keep it from spilling. She twisted and fell face-first onto the ground with a thud. It didn’t hurt as badly as she had expected.

She made a small whining noise before speaking. “I brought you dinner.” Maiko’s voice was muffled as she held the box above her head. “It’s vegetarian.” She sat up with a grace that contradicted her previous actions, still holding the box out as if she was presenting Simba to all of Africa. As she looked up at the professor, one could clearly see a red imprint of the floor on her forehead—but did the counselor look embarrassed or chagrined in any way? Absolutely not.

"That was more difficult than it needed to be."

The quiet classroom on the sixth floor had become a haven of sorts.  Even at Durmstrang, Atash Hendurabi had always had a private office.  Besides giving him a place to work uninterrupted, he liked the solitude -- the chance to get away and catch his breath, to recharge in the quiet at the end of the day.

Hogwarts was, as Professor Maras had said, confusing.  It was a different social dynamic than either Durmstrang or Gondishapur, and the weight of engaging with students and colleagues all day was taxing.  Added to that was the fact that he didn't particularly want to draw attention to the tension that entered the room along with at least one of his fellow professors, and it left him choosing to retreat most evenings -- either taking dinner alone, or long after the Great Hall had cleared.

Tonight, he had been working on something that was only of a personal interest -- parsing through old Prophet articles, attempting to reconstruct what he could of public knowledge of a recent series of unfortunate events.  He had left the door closed for that very reason -- the sound of the doorknob suddenly rattling was enough to make him look up sharply, and by the time the door was violently kicked open and a body stumbled through, he was already on his feet, alert and with his wand in hand.

But within seconds, it became clear that this was no assault.  Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa, the Hogwarts counselor, made a kind of graceful tumble that ended with her face fully planted against the floor, a box held protectively above her head.  Atash stared, momentarily speechless, but before he could start forward or inquire if she were all right, she had already made a small, unhappy noise and began to speak.

"That was more difficult than it needed to be."

Atash cleared his throat, his brows knitting as he regarded her, looking as if he were on the verge of either breaking into laughter or heaving an exasperated sigh.

"Yes," he agreed after a moment, visibly fighting against the smile that was threatening to break through his expression.  "I am glad that the doorknob foiled your attempt to assault yet another victim with gastronomic ecstasy.  That defense was well planned."  Amusement danced in his eyes as he set his wand down on the desk with a click and started forward.  "Can I...help you?"  He paused briefly, giving her a long look over, and then allowed a wry smile.  "With that?"

She gave him a small glare at the mention of gastronomic ecstasy, though it was hard to take the glare seriously with a red imprint of the floor on her forehead. “I’ll ‘ave you know that the plans are not foiled!” Mai insisted, standing up. In response to his helping comment, she handed over  the box. “I brought you curry. You don’t show up at dinner, so I need to assume that you’re starving.” She put her hands on her hips, and leaned forward, looking particularly sassy as she did so.

 “You can help me by risking another case of… Gastronomic ecstasy.” Mai wasn’t sure if she found it funny anymore, or simply ridiculous. Maybe a mixture of both?  It was hard to tell with her, but she was almost positive that if he said that phrase one more time she might laugh purely due to the ridiculousness of it all. Mai remembered her father telling her that a joke was funny the first three times, then after that it wasn’t funny until it got ridiculous.

“I made curry! It’s Japanese-style, so it’s sweeter than Indian or Thai curries. It’s mildly spicy, I wasn’t sure how hot you liked your food so…” She stared at the box, and then back up at Professor Hendurabi expectantly, waiting for him to try a bite. “It’s kosher. And vegetarian.” Maiko said, as if saying that would make Atash more likely to eat it. She assumed he was a vegetarian; when she saw him eat, he tended to avoid the meat that Hogwarts served. Maybe he didn’t like how it was cooked, or maybe he was picky about the cuts of meat. Either way, she wasn’t going to take any chances.

Then Maiko looked the professor up and down, and her eyes narrowed. “Were you going to laugh at me before?” She had definitely caught his attempts to hide a smile. “You, monsieur, are cruel.” Mai wasn’t serious, of course—but she had said it with such a deadpan expression that it was difficult to tell if she was joking or not. “Eat the curry.” The counselor demanded, with the tone that a mother would have when telling her toddler to eat his vegetables.

The mage shielded a cough, clearly smiling now as he accepted the box and set it down on the nearest desk.

"My apologies, Miss Biladeau-Yukawa," he said graciously.  Clearing his throat again, he inclined his head to the witch.  "I did not mean to cause offense.  Any laughter was entirely directed at the door, I assure you," he finished, giving her a slight, dry smile.

This was unlikely to be an effort that he could thwart through mild turns of phrase.  Atash sighed, looking back at the box on the desk.  Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa evidently considered her responsibilities to stretch far beyond just looking after the students placed under her care.  He couldn't fault her intent; she obviously meant well, considering how much effort she  had apparently put into observing his eating habits.  But he didn't want this to become routine.

"I appreciate the thought, but you really did not need to go to all of the trouble," he said politely, his eyes shifting back to meet hers, his gaze steady.  "I prefer to work into the evening, so I usually take a late supper.  It has become something of a habit.  And besides," he added, smiling faintly again to take any edge off of the words, "I am certain that you have enough charges under your care without adding to your worries by making assumptions about new colleagues.  Please don't feel as though you need to look after me."

She gave Atash a relieved smile—good, she had been worried that he wasn’t eating dinner in the evenings. A late supper sounded much better than no supper at all. “You can pick one of my last names, if that is easier for you.” Mai knew very well that her last name was a bit of a mouthful, but she had been attached to it. After all, it was the name that her parents had given her, and it was nice to have a reminder of them in her everyday life.  Maiko had considered dropping the ‘Yukawa’ bit as she hadn’t known her father’s side very well, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Oh, Professor—“ Mai slowed down, focusing so that she would pronounce the ‘H’ sound. “Professor Hendruabi, it’s no trouble.” She met his gaze. The man was direct with his body language, and she felt like it would be a sign of disrespect and weak character if she did not consistently make eye contact with him.  “I wouldn’t be doing this if I was overwhelmed by my charges.” Charges was an interesting term, she wasn’t sure if she preferred that over client. She felt like a counseling relationship should be more of a partnership rather than a ‘professional and patient’ one.  “They’re more important to me than you are.”

The counselor realized just how mean that sounded, but it was honest. Atash could take care of himself, and he was less important because he did not need her services. “You’re self-sufficient and you seem stable.” Maiko shrugged, “You don’t need anything from me.” She motioned toward the box, “I like to cook for people.  It’s not a bother, and with the food that this school provides, your options seem to be limited.” Hogwarts wasn’t exactly vegetarian-friendly. There were a few dishes that vegetarians could eat, but every meal seemed to have a main dish that had meat in it.

She was growing impatient, so she opened the box to show a covered bowl of curry, eating utensils, and a covered bowl of rice. Maiko looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to eat.

This was clearly not intended as some careful dance of manners.  Atash sighed, looking back briefly at the papers that were still spread over the desk.  Declining the woman's invitation, especially when she had obviously gone through so much trouble to prepare the meal, would be rude, but allowing her to push him into dinner would likely make her think she was able to do it again.  He didn't exactly want or need some well-meaning counselor forcing her way into his business.

But he was here to listen and engage, and Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa had so far proven to be both friendly and talkative.  The mage gave a resigned sigh, and then inclined his head in tired, bemused surrender.

"It is very kind of you," he said wryly, reaching for the chair.  "Although I hope you will not feel as though you have to go through the trouble again.  Here," he said, motioning to another seat.  "You will have to join me."

Again, she had countered the form of proper address.  Atash gave the woman a faint smile as he waited, and then lowered himself to sit.

"Your last names are not as difficult to pronounce as you seem to think," he said mildly, as he resignedly examined the food.  "And it seems a waste to use only one.  I don't know of the Biladeaus, but I have heard of the Yukawas before.  You must be related to the wand maker, yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically at her.  And likely the Auror as well -- from what he knew of pureblooded Japanese families, they were extremely close-knit.  "A -- former associate of mine, she used a Yukawa wand when I knew her.  It was always very good for more subtle magics."

It seemed that when she pushed people to eat her meals, they always wanted her to join them. Mai could understand it—eating while having someone else watch you could be a bit uncomfortable.  Maiko made no attempt to hide her happiness as she practically bounced into the offered seat. “It’s no trouble at all.” She insisted, though she probably wouldn’t bring him meals regularly. She made the mental note to only bring him snacks next time, as not to make him too full for any meals he had planned for his own dinner. Maybe Tulojow allowed him access to her kitchen as well.

Maiko uncovered the curry and the rice—the thick curry was a rich brown color, with potatoes, carrots, onions, peas, and tofu. It greatly resembled a stew, though it was both sweeter and spicier than typical stews. “It’s my dad’s recipe.” She smiled fondly, though it seemed like it was mostly to herself than to Atash. However, that smile instantly disappeared with the mention of the Yukawa wizarding family. Her eyes widened with surprise, and her eyebrows furrowed together. She was confused—her father was not a wizard. Granted, he had not acted surprised when she got her Hogwarts acceptance letter, but that hadn’t exactly been out of character for him either.

“Both my parents were muggles.” She said, “As far as I know, I’m not related to the Wizarding Yukawas.” However, she felt like the possibility that they were related was fairly high. The chances of being muggleborn were not very high, as muggles generally had muggle children, just like wizarding parents tended to have magical children. When a non-magic person and a magical person had a child, the child was more likely to be a wizard than not.  “Did you know them?” She asked curiously. From the sounds of it, Atash has been around the Japanese wizarding community.

He let his eyebrows raise politely, but otherwise refrained from letting any sort of reaction show in his expression.  Muggle-born.  If he'd had to place a guess for the parentage of the outgoing counselor, he would have assumed she was halfblooded, but that had been solely because he'd recognized part of her surname.  The revelation made a sort of sense when taken in conjunction with her profession.  Worrying about how students were feeling seemed a particularly Muggle bent.

Atash gave an easy shrug of his shoulders.  "Just of them," he said mildly.  "I have spent a little time in Japan.  Ayame Yukawa is very well known there as a wand maker."

The Yukawa family was known for plenty of other things -- not the least of which was a particularly reputable and irritating Auror -- but that was not knowledge that he cared to share in context to a new colleague.  Nor did it seem appropriate to relay the sorts of magic that Toshiko seemed most skilled in coaxing out of her Yukawa-made wand.

"That is interesting, though."  He studied her face, her features -- surely there could be a non-magical Yukawa family as well as a magical one, but it seemed quite a coincidence.  Magic was most usually inherited.  "Perhaps there is a squib farther back that went unknown?  Your father's family is the Yukawas?"  It seemed a logical conclusion, based on the fact that she had mentioned that the obviously Japanese curry was her father's recipe. 

Though -- the were.  He was likely inquiring in the wrong tense.

"Most Japanese families keep careful records," he offered with a shrug.  "Though they are not particularly fond of admitting to..."  Atash paused.  Deficiencies was likely not the most prudent choice in words.  "They tend to be very interested in preserving bloodlines," he amended, giving a tight, apologetic smile.  "Like many of the pureblooded families here in England.  So I am not sure how open they would be if you asked."

Ayame Yukawa. That was a name that she could work off of. It was also a name that was uncomfortably familiar. However, the name Ayame wasn’t exactly uncommon. Although she didn’t know the name of her paternal grandfather, she had a feeling that the name Ayame sounded right for the grandmother. The only name she knew for sure was Isamu, and he had been her father’s brother. Her dad had talked about him fondly, though Mai had always assumed that he was dead. But if Japanese purebloods held the same views as some of their British counterparts, her father marrying a muggle may have made him as good as dead to his family.

“It is my dad who is Japanese.” Mai bit onto her bottom lip. If her father was a wizard, Kohaku was a squib? A squib that went unnoticed, because he was living a blissfully muggle life, in a muggle culture. Or maybe, somehow, he simply did not inherit the magical trait. If he was able to see dementors and hidden magical objects, that would answer her question—but she wasn’t sure if she particularly wanted her brother to go through that kind of confusion.

She leaned forward curiously, clutching her hands together so tightly, that she could feel her heartbeat. It was beating fast—a sign of anxiety? Nervousness? Inner conflict? Maiko wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling, but she also felt like there were some emotions that could not be expressed through words. “Do you know if Ayame had any children?” Mai inquired, “A son named Isamu, maybe?” She paused, “He’d be in his early-to-mid forties.” She felt bad about asking these questions to someone who was a stranger, but Mai felt like she had a right to know if her own father was a wizard or not. Or even a squib, that would have been acceptable.

The mage raised his eyebrows, studying her silently for a moment.  "I know of an Isamu Yukawa," he said after a beat, his voice passive.  "I'm not familiar with his connection to the wand maker, but I assume they are related.  He works as an Auror in Tokyo."

Not likely to be her father -- or was he?  Evidently Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa had at least a few magical relatives that she was unaware of.  Atash pressed his mouth shut, regarding her thoughtfully.  He could not imagine -- could barely comprehend -- an entire branch of his family that he knew nothing about.  To be brought up by Muggles, and to discover in an instant that there was something else concealed in one's family history.

The question seemed unnecessary judging by her expression, but he posed it anyhow.  "You know of him?" he inquired mildly.

Wizarding families were tightly knit, and if there were two people with the same last name mentioned, chances were that they were related in some way. Ayame and Isamu, both Yukawas, and both part of the wizarding community? If what her father had said was true, then these two wizards were her grandmother and her uncle. Mai let out a long sigh and buried her head in her hands. What did that mean for her dad? Was he a squib? Was he a wizard who simply chose to lead a muggle life?

“Ah, shit.” Maiko cursed. Where Atash was closed and almost distant, Maiko was open and wore her heart on her sleeve. She made no attempt to hide her feelings, “Isamu was the name of my dad’s younger brother.” She clarified, “Ayame was the name of his mother. I don’t know his dad’s first name, but my dad never talked about him.” Kazuo never spoke of his father, and Maiko had never asked, sensing that it was a bit of a touchy subject.

She looked up at Atash, eyebrows raised. “Looks like I’m probably a 'alfblood.” She shook her head; it wasn’t like she thought that blood purity really mattered. Magical or nonmagical, pureblood or muggleborn, they were still people and she intended to treat them as such. However, what was bugging her was the fact that her father had a magical background that he had never told her about—one that he had hidden from his wife and children.  “How do you know Isamu?” She hoped there’d be some sort of good story behind it. Though, if he didn’t want to talk about it, Mai wouldn’t press for more information.

It had been a question that he had been preparing for since he realized his slip.    Atash gave an easy shrug as he finally picked up the fork, looking over the plate. 

"Every magical community is fairly small," he said mildly.  "I've been to Tokyo once or twice, and I have a good memory for names.  Auror Yukawa is well known there."

He glanced at her, his forehead furrowing slightly as he examined the witch's expression.  It had to be something of a shock -- far more than the opposite might be, discovering that there was a Muggle in one's magical family.  The latter was to be expected; intermarriage happened, and Squibs were a well-known, if rare, phenomenon.  But to discover that one wasn't a member of a downtrodden group after all -- to realize that one's family had some sort of secret past -- that was something that he could understand, albeit grimly.  And she was young too, probably a good ten years younger than he was.  That would have put her squarely at Hogwarts during the Dark Lord's last rise.

I...apologize if this comes as a shock."  He frowned, regarding her carefully.  "I know a little of how blood purity has been treated here in England," he said gently, apologetically.  "I do not mean to open up old wounds.  I should have been more careful in what I chose to share."

Mai seemed to have completely forgotten about the curry she brought up for Atash—anybody would be too distracted by this revelation if it applied to them. She accepted his answer about the auror, and she wondered if she should make an effort to contact her grandmother or her uncle. She didn’t even know if they knew she existed, though she had a few ideas as to why her father did not have any contact with them while she was growing up.

“It’s not your fault at all, no need to apologize.” She said simply. Mai didn’t see the point in apologies when there was no reason to feel guilt. She straightened her posture and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. She was very aware of how tight the muscles around her neck and shoulders were, and if she didn’t settle down, she knew she would be at a higher risk of having visions. That was not something she wanted to deal with at the moment.

“The blood purity doesn’t matter to me. I’ve been treated poorly in the past because of it, but the past is the past, what’s done is done.” She explained, “The thing that bothers me is: I did not notice that my father was a wizard, and I thought ‘e and I ‘ad been close.” Mai shook her head. Obviously, they hadn’t been close enough for him to tell her that his family was where she got her magic from. But then again, the longer some secrets are kept, the harder it is to let them go. “There aren’t any wounds being opened up, but thank you for sharing.” She gave the mage a gentle, genuine smile. Mai wasn’t one to let new events bring back old pain. “I clearly need to do some investigating first.”

Her eyes rested on the food—she raised her eyebrows in confusion before remembering that feeding Atash was the sole reason she had shown up. Mai looked at the food, and then up at Atash expectantly, waiting for him to take his first bite.

Atash pressed his mouth shut thoughtfully, and then rolled his shoulders in an easy shrug.  "Parents always have reasons for not telling their children everything," he replied, giving her a faint smile.  "Even if it is sometimes difficult for the children to understand their choices, I think we all have some bit of information that we think is best to keep to ourselves."

The hint to begin eating was obvious enough.  The mage smiled, giving a slight, good-natured roll of his eyes as he regained the fork and began to eat.

"Obviously a second attempt to remove Hogwarts' chief competition through gastronomic attacks," he remarked dryly, after he finished swallowing.  It was good; she was obviously as gifted a cook as she was a baker.  "You know, I do still have a contact or two back in Japan," he remarked in a mild tone, glancing at her cautiously as he continued to eat.  "Do you want me to put you in touch with them?  They might know more about your family, or be able to help you with getting in touch."

 “Some information should stay ‘idden, yes.” Mai nodded. She understood that it was natural to keep secrets, but she wasn’t sure that hiding the fact that your family was magical was the best choice a parent could make. Just because her father had every right to keep secrets, did not mean that Mai had to agree with his decision. “Some information sometimes is better kept a secret, but this?” She shook her head, “It wasn’t one of my father’s best decisions.”

She smiled back at the professor. Of course, he was going to bring up gastronomic attacks. At least he didn’t use the word ‘ecstasy.” The counselor took his comments to mean that he enjoyed her cooking, which was always a good sign. “It looks like my attempt is working.” Maiko teased, but then was taken aback by his offer.

 Maiko had not expected him to offer help, even if it was simply getting her in touch with his contacts. Atash hadn’t seemed like the type who would even involve himself in the personal affairs of others. Needless to say, it was a pleasant surprise. “I would love to get in touch with them.” She replied softly. “Is there anything within reason you’d like me to do in return?”