Usually by necessity, Tulojow was not a frequent visitor to the castle's interiors.[1]  There were, in fact, entire sections of the castle that the Healer had yet to explore - including most of what lay above the fifth floor and the towers.  The plethora of steep, stone steps were too much for the Healer's mangled, cartilage deficient knee and, until the wizarding world adopted some equivalent of the disabilities and equalities act, it much of the castle would likely remain shrouded in mystery. 

In the case of dire medical emergency, the internal floo network could be activated to allow Tulojow quick access to any of the common rooms or classrooms.  Or, any member of the staff could call for Tulojow's house elf assistant who could transport someone down to the Hospital Hut.  Though not entirely cut off from the school, casual exploration was largely kept to a minimum.

This wasn't an emergency so Tulojow had reached the castle's third floor the old fashioned way - by taking the stairs step by step.  And, making full use of the stair's railing and her walking cane.  After a brief pause and waving off a few passing student's expressions of concern at the third floor landing, Tulojow started down the corridor to the Charms Professor's office.  The Hospital Hut was now empty, again, but there were elements of the previous evening that still left the Healer feeling uncomfortable.  The new professor's quick exit, Tapendra's clearly unsettled state.  Many reasons why Tulojow wasn't comfortable leaving the previous evening resting in the past. 

The Healer[2] knocked firmly against the professor's door and peered through the door once acknowledged.  "Good morning," she offered with a pleasant, friendly smile.  "May I have a moment of your time?"[3]

1.	Takes place shortly after Waste Our Lights In Vain
2.	Outfit
3.	Title from Spoon River

Nightingale, had been up for a while now, submerged in grading his latest reports, and worrying over the following weeks classes. Yet, evidence that he slept much at all wasn't displayed across his face. His eyes were tired, even uncovered as they were, they carried heavy shadows beneath them, and made him appear much older than he truly was. His hair, still damp from his bath fell over one shoulder, and was freshly combed so that his fingers could walk through it as he read.

When the knock came he didn't move at first, the sound not pulling him from his daze, but when it continued he stood to slip across the stone. With his steps light he quickly tied the patch over his face, and opened the door to great his guest.

"Good morning," He smiled, and almost refused to allow her in. However, he opened the door to allow her to pass, and would offer her some of the tea he had steaming in his little clay pot.

"Of course. Come in, and take a seat. Tea? Biscuit?" He baked when he was upset, and they were evidence. "Muffin? Cookie?" He slumped back in his chair, knowing full and well why she was here, and was prepared for the drilling she was about to give him.

Tulojow waited patiently in the doorway, a pleasant grin not wavering from her features as she waited for Nightingale to invite her into the office.  She watched the man as he returned to his own chair and settled herself slowly and carefully in one of the other chairs, grimacing ever so slightly as the bones in her knee grated audibly in protested. 

Once settled, she smiled pleasantly at Nightingale's offer but shook her head.  "No, thank you.  However, if it wouldn't bother you," Tulojow pulled a carved wooden pipe from her pocket lifted it pointedly. 

"I assumed you'd appreciate knowing that Darian is doing well and was seen home this morning.  He'll be sore for a few days but should be himself by next weekend.  I've also made the Headmaster aware of the off-campus visitor, so all of that has been resolved.  I've recommended to Darian that he notify the Magical Law Enforcement office of the incident.  I advise you do the same, so they should have as much information on record as possible since situations like these are rarely one time, isolated occurrences. You might be able to offer a better description of the attackers." 

Tulojow shifted more upright in her chair and looked, pointedly, across the desk at the professor.  "We do need to discuss some of the errs in judgement, though.  Especially given the dynamics of some of our students - the second years especially.  You will have students injure themselves in class.  I need to understand why you elected to bring an injured man from London to the Forbidden Forest rather than St. Mungo's.  Or, to me." 

"No of course not, please. Help yourself." Gale skittered from his chair to crack the window for her, his thin legs outline rather well in the tight fitting pants he wore, and making it seem as though there was nothing more to him that a stack of bones when he seated himself again. He drew his legs up beneath him, wrapped the shawl further around his shoulders, and began to nervously braid his hair. Like a spider his fingers worked though the white silk strands until he had a loose braid falling over one shoulder.

"I'm glad to hear that he is well today. I did worry." Though admitting so he gave her a thoughtful glance, more studying the trouble she had sitting, and the questions that came along with it. However, by the time Tulojow got to her point Gale's whole body stiffened in his chair.

We do need to discuss some of the errs in judgement. Felt like a rather heavy handed slap in the face, no matter how well meaning she may have been, and already he knew the ghost that haunts him had been right.

You should have just left his sorry ass there, Gale. A man who can't hold his own in a fight, isn't a man at all. Arthur was the sort that wouldn't feed the hungry, didn't open the doors for women, nor went around rain puddles in attempts to keep those around him dry. However, his little Hufflepuff lover had always been the sort that would have put his coat down to keep his friend's feet dry.

"I already have." He admitted quietly, "Reported it I mean. I went last night. After I left the hut." He wouldn't meet her eyes, but neither was he submissive--just distant and cold. "I was afraid I'd killed them." He finally admitted looking at her as if trying to read her expression like a book.

"I'm not sure the type of man Darian is, or what he's done. I frankly have little care of him other than I was a jerk, and brushed off his advances. In my guilt I turned around, and there they were. They had him on the ground, had plenty of time to take his money and leave. But, Madame, they were beating his face in as if they meant to break his skull." All of this spoken in a dry nearly monotone quietness that often came with being a professor here, but it was the truth.

"It was too organized. They fought too well. I brought them to the forest because it's the one place I knew they couldn't chase me. I'm made of those trees, they couldn't catch me there. And in my panic I wasn't aware of what I might have woken in my enemy or myself. I needed somewhere I could go and catch my breath, as well see that he was in fact ok. I would not have risked your life or the lives of those at St. Mungo's for the life of one rent boy."

You will have students injure themselves in class.

"I was also coming off the rush of a fight, afraid of being followed, and knew I couldn't get him to the castle without his immediate and untimely death. Big difference fighting some thugs in an alley, than an injured student. I highly doubt my own life would have been at risk by a few shortcomings of a few second years." He snorted, and shuffled through the papers on his desk needing something to do with his hands. He could feel the anger rising up, but knew it wasn't his place to feel so angry.

"I can assure you that when it comes to my students, Ma'am, I'll bring them right to you."

The Healer’s attention was briefly diverted to the leather pouch as she extracted a healthy pinch of the dried mixture.  Having never been comfortable with pointing a lit wand in the direction of her face, Tulojow lit the pipe with a match, taking several deep breaths before returning her attention to the conversation.  The effects of the herbal mixture were subtle but welcome; by the fourth lungful the taut, cramped joint that had once been a knee finally started to relax and the pain ebbed away. 

Tulojow didn’t know why someone would target Darian for an organized attack and, she supposed, by now it was no longer her job to worry about such things.  Especially beyond making sure the attack was properly reported.  For better or worse, investigating the mysteries would end up being a task for someone else. But, she nodded her approval.  Making sure a formal report existed was her primary responsibility in her current role and that had been adequately achieved. 

The Healer sat, quietly, watching as the professor spoke.  He shifted and fidgeted uneasily, giving the impression of wavering between guilt and annoyance.  Tulojow took slow, rhythmic breaths off her pipe. 

"I'm not sure the type of man Darian is makes much of a difference," Tulojow pointed out.  "Though, if you really didn't know the type of man he was, that makes me question even more why you brought him back to Hogwarts.  If they were, indeed, attempting to break his skull then all the more reason he needed to be provided proper medicine by a trainer professional.  Not finding yourself alone, in the woods, with an unconscious person.  What if one of the attackers had put a trace on him and all of them followed you?  What if Darian had actually been one of them under polyjuice and it had been a ploy to get someone within the school grounds?  If something had happened, the school would have been infiltrated with you being the only one knowing of your whereabouts." 

Tulojow shook her head, frowning with a hint of apology to her expression.  "I know you believe you were doing the right thing and I commend you for that but, in the future, St. Mungo's is the safest place to bring someone.  They can contact the Ministry if additional security is necessary.  And, if for whatever reason you feel you absolutely must bring any injured person within the perimeter of Hogwarts, it must not be done in secret.  You put the lives of these students at risk by doing so.  One student death in the forest last year was too many and they still don't know who committed it." 

"Oh no." He stood and quickly corrected her, "There won't be a next time. The next time some leather clad man with intoxicating hips and a sly smile shows interest in me. I'm going to leave him where he stands, even if he is getting his face smashed in." Gale crossed to the window here his flowers were still blooming with their charms, and closed his arms over his chest.

"For as much trouble it has caused me. Madame Nadge, I'll be leaving the next soul on the stone. I've been belittled for it every step of the way, and apparently it would have just been best if I'd let them kill him." He hissed, hugging his arms tighter as if to face off a cold bitter wind.

"He is nothing important to me. Why should he matter?" He asked the night really, watching out his window, "Isn't that what I'm supposed to say?" Gale turned to face her, motioning to the wall hidden by the fire place where a various range of weapons were on display.

"I'm not a frail little flower, Ma'am. I could have held them off. And I didn't run for Hogwarts. I ran for the forest. And I didn't run in secret. I ran for our lives. His life. I couldn't care about mine." With a heavy breath he looked pained a moment, but not from his heart breaking. No, Gale's pain came from the only wound he'd carried from that night.

"Everyone is so quick to judge. Making it out to seem like I ran to the forest out of secret and in silence. I was running. Running. To the one place I feel safe, and from where I could take them all. All of you are so blind by spells and charms, that you forget what it's like to really fight for your life. But rest assure, Madame, there won't be a next time." He straightened in his stance, "I should have never bothered in the first place." So spoke the man his Slytherian lover wanted him to be, and not the happy healing hand of the sweet child from the forest.

"And if that is all. I'll walk you out." He motioned for the door, and offered her a hand to help her stand. "Unless you need to--"

No. A voice hissed in his mind, Don't you care about her. She was able to walk her cripple self up the stairs, she can very well roll back down them. Push her if you have to, Nightingale.

The Healer's eyes calmly followed the Charms Professor as he got to his feet and launched into a full, defensive rebuttal.  They continued to follow him as he crossed the room towards the window while Tulojow took a long deep draw off the pipe.  She made no attempt to interrupt or redirect him as he spoke, merely waiting patiently until he felt he'd said his bit. 

Every so often, a phrase would filter through the peculiarly poetic rant and a single eyebrow would hitch up, briefly, on the older woman's face.  Intoxicating hips...ran for the forest...the one place he felt safe.  She, for the most part, ignored the accusations and insults, dismissing them as the frustrated mutterings of a man who believed his best course of action was redirecting his anger on whoever was closest.  Such was the behavior of one that felt terrified and trapped, not one who was reasoning.  She'd spent enough time in the presence of young men in similar mindsets; taking the bait would do little more than escalate the man's temper. 

But, she was starting to better understand Tapendra's frustration. 

The Healer did not budge when the charms professor hastily dismissed her and all but tried to usher her out the room.  "I'm not ready to leave," Tulojow stated bluntly, her gaze not wavering from the man's face.  "My first and foremost priority is to the safety of the students in this school.  It is not to helping you avoid a necessary though uncomfortable conversation.  I have shown you due respect and consideration as a colleague by addressing the matter with you personally, rather than taking my concerns to the administration.  I expect you to show the same courtesy.  If I'm forced to leave before my concerns have been settled, I will be left with no choice but to take them to the Headmaster." 

Tulojow took the pipe from her mouth long enough to point it, casually, in the direction of the man's desk.  An unspoken request for the man to take a seat.  "Why are you directing your anger at me?"

Gale let the door shut, and slumped against it. His hand came to touch his side, where the ribs hurt the most, but he forced through the next words.

"Because everyone keeps picking at it. I said I was sorry. I made a mistake. It was never my intentions to bring him here. I half wonder if I wasn't just trying to take him. It's so hard to make decisions  when I've been in a fight. All I think about is getting out. That's not like me. I didn't know if I had killed those men or not. I worried I did. I hit hard." Gale covered his face with his hands, his thin shoulders shaking beneath his wrap, and he whimpered before pressing from the door to rejoin her.

"You are coming at me as if I did this on purpose. As if it were my goal to harm them. I love my students. I love them like the children I'll never have. I panicked. I was afraid. I was running for both of our lives. Damn it. It's ok for me to worry about his too. He was a stranger to me, but he didn't deserve that beating." Gale held out his hand to motion to the air next to him as if to show her reason,

"I went into the forest to gather my thoughts, to gather my surroundings, and to calm down. I knew I would be safe there because I know it like the back of my hand. I wasn't traced. I'm The Charms Professor, for Maker's sake. You think I don't know when a spell has been cast on me?" Gale started to pace in his anger.

"Tapendra came out of that forest accusing me of putting Darian there, you accuse me of not caring about my students. When all I was doing was going home after a movie, and being hit on by some hooker in an alley." He stopped his little speech and tightened his shawl around his cold shoulders all the while sinking to the edge of the couch. And in a very defeated voice continued.

"It won't happen again."

Again, Tulojow watched and waited, in silence, as the younger man said his bit.  After a few more breaths off the pipe, Tulojow lowered it from her mouth and rested her arms on her lap. 

"I believe you might be mistaking my intentions to discuss the events of last night and debrief as a personal, judgmental attack." Tulojow considered the young man a moment before pulling two small, semi-taught knotted balls of yarn out of her pocket and setting one of them on the desk.  As of yet, Nightingale had been given almost full license to vent and lecture as he saw fit.  It was now Tulojow's turn though, as she spoke, she directed her attention away from Nightingale and focused on unknotting and unraveling her mess of yarn. 

"About twenty-two years ago, I was on assignment in Bihar, India.  I was an Auror before becoming the groundskeeper and then Healer here - this is my retirement after forty-five years of boots on the ground."  She pointed, vaguely, at her knee in a wordless indicator of the reason for her retirement. 

"I was just outside of a little town called Musahri - not far from the Nepal border.  The Auror office here had gotten wind that one of the merchants in Knockturn had established connections with a supplier smuggling out of the Himalayans.  I'd unearthed evidence that the smugglers had stolen half a dozen juvenile Nagas to slaughter for potion ingredients.  This information was contradictory to the official reports I'd been receiving but I ignored the reports and followed that lead.  I went to follow up on a last minute lead.  The lead ended up being a false one and, the next morning, I learned a wizard that tended the local centicore preserve and his family had been murdered and their stock decimated." 

Tulojow shifted in her chair and stretched out her leg in an attempt to better align her knee, now that the mixture in the pipe had settled and loosened the joint.  "You're right.  In the heat of the moment, we don't have the luxury to plan or reason or balance the options.  We can just act.  But, that's what makes debriefing after the fact all the more important.  The more we understand our decisions and the implications after the dust has settled, the more prepared we are to make educated choices the next time something arises.  After the incident in Musahri, I spent six hours in debriefings - if I'd jumped to the conclusion that the debriefing was a personal attack, I never would have been in a mindset to move forward." 

"You accuse me of judging you and, yet, in the same breath point accuse me of being blinded by magic and forgetting what it's like to fight for my life.  I can promise you that couldn't be further from the truth.  It takes more than two years to erase forty five years of experience.  And, you call Mr. Morgan a hooker - which sounds very much like a judgement on his attire and ... overly friendliness." 

Tulojow finally looked up from the mess of yarn and tried to catch the young man's eye.  "I can't speak for everyone but, from what I know of many of the professors here - especially Tapendra - you're in more control of how you're perceived and regarded than I think you realize.  Out of context, his reaction to you last night might have seemed like a personal affront but if you took a moment and considered he might have had reasons for his actions rather than rush to the defensive, one might find they have more in common then they realize.  Do you know what happened here last spring?" 

Tulojow shook her head and offered the younger man a pleasant smile before turning back to her yarn.  "Last night, you expressed a discomfort with the idea of seeking medical help and, even now, I have a suspicion your acquiescing in an attempt to get me out of here as quickly as possible.  And, you're obviously willing to try to hide an injury in order to do so," Tulojow gestured towards the man's side with her pipe before returning it to her mouth. 

"I'm not here to extract an admission of guilt or apology from you.  You're not my student and I am not your supervisor.  And, certainly, I don't think any one of us believes you should not help a man in a similar situation in the future.  Though, of course, it's your choice if that's the conclusion you draw from all of this."

"Would you like me to take a look at your side?"

"You accuse me of judging you and, yet, in the same breath point accuse me of being blinded by magic and forgetting what it's like to fight for my life.  I can promise you that couldn't be further from the truth.  It takes more than two years to erase forty five years of experience.  And, you call Mr. Morgan a hooker - which sounds very much like a judgement on his attire and ... overly friendliness." 

"I don't mean to put down his profession, Madame. I just assumed that since he was interested in me that he wanted coins from my purse." Gale said dryly and a bit sheepishly as he watched the yarn in her hand. It was a distraction, and he wondered if it was a ploy to get him to calm--it worked. He took up the bottom half and started to work with her to untangle it, and listened as he did.

Out of context, his reaction to you last night might have seemed like a personal affront but if you took a moment and considered he might have had reasons for his actions rather than rush to the defensive, one might find they have more in common then they realize.  Do you know what happened here last spring?

"No, I do not, and for these very reasons he might have considered that he wasn't the only one, and stopped. But it didn't. He took my prickling in return as an attack, and didn't stop even when we got in your hut. Insulting me every chance he got. Of course I'm going to find it strange that he was out in the forest at the middle of the night, and just so happened to stumble upon us. And knowing what I do know of Tapendra, I guess I'm just a little more shocked than what I had expected to be. He always seemed so easy going and kind. If he had been so upset by my being there for other reasons he should have said so, or let the matter drop all together. Even when we entered your hut, the first thing out of his mouth was an insult to my judgement. In front of you of all people."

"I'm not here to extract an admission of guilt or apology from you.  You're not my student and I am not your supervisor.  And, certainly, I don't think any one of us believes you should not help a man in a similar situation in the future.  Though, of course, it's your choice if that's the conclusion you draw from all of this."

"Would you like me to take a look at your side?"

Gale stared at her for a very long time, trying his best to determine if this was some sort of test on his character. He couldn't hide the injury he knew that, and frankly he hadn't wanted to. His pride was more wounded than his ribs, but he truly didn't want to inconvenience someone for something that would heal just fine on it's own. However, he moved to join her on the sofa, and seated himself just to her left.

"Only if you will tell me more about your India as you do? It will help keep my mind off..." He grinned already fighting back laughter just from the thought of her fingers on his sides, "Of how ticklish I am."

"Son," Tulojow said, gently, without looking up from the tail of the thread as it moved easily through the knot.  There was a recurring theme in the professor's defenses and rebuttals that had become impossible to ignore with the man's last few statements.  Unfortunately, there was really no subtle way to put it.  She could only hope the young man would surprise her and listen and, if nothing else, consider what she wanted to say.  Not jump immediately to the defensive, again. 

Speaking slowly, taking care to pick her words carefully, Tulojow finally glanced up from slowly unraveling ball of thread.  "I hear you saying you assumed Darian was after you for your money.  And, Tapendra came at you from out of the forest.  And you assumed I was accusing you of not knowing your craft."

"I do not know your history and whether you chose to divulge it is entirely up to you.  But, I've watched people struggle through some of the most trying of situations.  One thing I've noticed time and again is those who always assume the role of the victim will always feel they are under attack.  Every interaction is a two way street.  Half of it is how the other side presents themselves and half is how we perceive it.  Last night, Darian was the ultimate victim.  Perhaps, it's worth considering that the way Tapendra reacted last night had more to do with concern for Darian and less to do with you."

Tulojow turned her attention to examining the man's side and verifying the two cracked ribs on his right side.  They seemed well-aligned and there was no evidence of continued bleeding.  "I was on post there on and off for almost six years," Tulojow offered as a distraction, as requested.  "Spent a fair bit of that time up in Tibet but, I can't really say it's my India.  I'm not that kind of Indian."  She assumed he knew that but, just in case.  "I'm Ojibwe.  The plains of North Dakota are my original stomping grounds.  But, I traveled extensively for the Ministry.  Australia, South Africa.  A fair number of ... unauthorized trips."

"I have no doubt in my mind Darian was the true victim last night, Madam, but again I'm not saying I was innocent. I just refuse to take blame for this, or roll over like a dead dog. Tapendra was very afraid for Darian, that I have no doubt. I was too, but not like he was. He came at me in defense of Darian, not because of who I am. So I do not take it personally, but what I am so upset about is how it didn't stop. Of course I'm going to prick when insulted, or when a wand is drawn on me. I feel I did the best I could do giving the situation." Gale pulled away from her.

"I don't want his concern, or yours. I just want everyone to get off my back about the actions I made. I was afraid. I was panicked, and he was bleeding. Darian was all I cared about in that situation, and how was I to know Tapendra wasn't one of them? All I wanted to do was get somewhere safe, and stop the blood long enough to get somewhere else. Next time, I'll try my hardest to go somewhere more suitable." Gale closed his eyes trying to fight the anger that was biting the back of his tongue.

"I am no bodies victim but my own. I have done nothing but beat myself up over this and am frankly very tired of talking about it. I've said I was sorry, sorry for messing up, not sorry for helping him. I really don't know what else you want from me."

Tulojow arched an eyebrow at the renewed defensiveness from the Charms' professor.  It was hard to tell if the man had really, truly, listened to anything she'd said.  The woman frowned, slightly, and shook her head sadly.  One could not be forced to accept help or advice, they had to be willing to open themselves up to receive it.  Perhaps, with time and after he'd relaxed, the man would give her words more consideration.  Or, perhaps he'd try even harder to avoid her in the future. 

"You'll find a tincture delivered with your breakfast for the next few mornings," Tulojow offered, pushing herself to her feet with the help of her walking cane, her knee grating painfully in the process.  "It will help with the healing process.  Obviously, a cracked rib will heal perfectly well on its own, if you'd rather not utilize the healing arts.  However, you'll need to avoid strenuous activity or future scuffles for a month.  Additional injury could risk misalignment or puncturing a lung or spleen." 

Tulojow nodded her head in acknowledgement and crossed the room to the door.  "I hope you have a better afternoon," she offered as she hesitated by the door.  "My door, of course, is always open if you feel the need to talk or visit.  Just remember, ultimately, we're all here for the same reason.  As such, we are all allies by necessity.  Whether we like it or not."