Aisling's first thought as she gently knocked on the door was that she should have done this earlier. The fact that she'd considered and then dismissed such ideas countless times over the last decade was of little reassurance. In truth, it was rather depressing. But, it was just a few questions, for now. Not delving too deeply into memories.

She lifted one arm and checked over the sleeve of her jacket. No ink stains, fortunately. Or blood. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, the last months had left her with a lingering sense of distraction. Fortunately, for now it had largely limited itself to errant ink stains and occasionally forgetting breakfast. And, actually, she couldn't remember if she'd sent him that note or not. If it were sitting in her office under a pile of paperwork that would make the meeting rather awkward. And with her recent luck, this would be the one night that Tarron wasn't overly occupied with Wizengamot business. When she stayed at work late for this.

Another knock on the door, a bit louder. Then she rubbed at her neck before folding her hands together. So long as he didn't ask for a demonstration.

When the first knock sounded, Mordecai was reading the last few reports he'd been given by the Patrol and not focusing on anything else going around him. At this time during a work day, he would gladly wish to have these reports read and done so that he could go home, but hey c'est la vie.

The second knock got his attention; the volume of it was certainly enough to register that he looked up and blinked at the door. Most Ministry employees would only have been too glad to leave for home when the work day was done, so he couldn't think of anyone who would come to his rather sadly quiet office at this time of the day. Then he remembered the memo that had politely fluttered into his office earlier that day, and realisation dawned fairly quickly.

"Come on in," he called out, sitting up in his seat and making a few adjustments which quickly resulted in a few subtle cricks in his back. How long had he been reading? Best to take his mind off the reports then, he wasn't even required to send the records until next week.

By the time Aisling heard the voice from within the office, she had managed to properly compose herself before entering. Something which, in truth, didn't make much difference to her usual controlled appearance. She opened the door and stepped inside, then glanced about the office.

A year or so back she probably would not have recognized the man behind the desk if she'd passed him in the halls. An occurrence that had likely happened a few times over her decades at the Ministry. Months of excited questioning from two young girls about her time at Hogwarts had, however, brought memories of those times to the forefront. And while Mordecai had aged, as they all had (except for the dead), it was not too hard to connect him back to the older student Aisling remembered seeing in her first tumultuous year at school.

"Thank you for seeing me. I hope it is not too much of an interruption." She gave a polite nod with a hint of a bow, and focused her attention on Mordecai, rather than his office. It felt as if she had spent too much time in offices recently. Particularly her own.

Aisling Knight. The name was familiar, if only because Mordecai hadn't known that many Aislings in his entire life. But the face was even more familiar than the name. He knew he'd seen her around before coming to the Ministry. This tidbit was going to niggle at him forever if he didn't ask.

"Don't worry about it, I needed a break anyway." He gestured towards the chair before his desk. "Do take a seat, and let's do away with the formalities. It's after working hours, I think we can let our hair down. Figuratively."

As he leaned back in his chair, he tapped his fingers to his lips. "Forgive me, but I vaguely remember your face. It's probably been a long time since the time we did meet, so do you mind just...nudging the part of my mind that's not working for me right now?" He did so want to be polite about forgetting where he'd seen her, but if he didn't ask now his  mind would be bothering him for the rest of the day.

Aisling seated herself in the offered chair, and leaned back just enough to seem relaxed, though not quite informal. She smiled slightly at his question, lips not quite parting, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It was Aisling Bryne, then. I was sorted into Ravenclaw in 1967.  Took months before I could stop staring in awe at every detail of Hogwarts." Her movements and expressions were slightly exaggerated, and hinted at the wide-eyed girl she'd been those long years ago.

She composed herself back together to something proper, though not stiffly so, again; though the smile remained. "I'll hold myself back from the nostalgia, though. Had enough opportunity for that this summer." Rowena had been particularly curious, while her sister had simply asked the house-elf for some of Aisling's old school books after a few weeks of questions.

There was just an instant of a flicker in her smile, and she folded her hands together in her lap. Still kept her eyes on Mordecai. "And, as the note said, I did have a few questions. Ones which I've already delayed long enough."

Ah, yes. He did remember now. Very distant memory of helping a first year, so distant that there wasn't even much he could recall about that meeting to get nostalgic about. Her name and face were at least placed in their rightful memory now; his mind was already settling back into its seat, satisfied with the results.

"Yes, I did read the note." He glanced at the unfolded memo lightly sitting on the right side of his desk. "I'm genuinely interested to know what these questions are. It's not very often someone asks me things outside of working hours.

"Go ahead, ask away."

The first question was supposed to be the hardest, and yet it slipped out easily enough, without even a tiny twitch to her expression. "Once I was out of school, I began to study Occlumency. It seemed a wise choice, under the circumstances." A few careful breaths before she spoke again.

"But I've been neglecting it a bit, recently. At least until the girls were off to school." Recently was a bit of a stretch, but 'since the war' was hardly something she wished to bring into the conversation unless needed.  It could be awkward enough without it. She leaned forward a little, and intertwined her fingers. "But I fear that I digress. Quite simply, I've been struggling with returning to my practice of it, and had hoped that you might possess some knowledge on the subject that could aid me." She tilted her head just a little to the side, watching while she waited for his response.

Mordecai raised his eyebrows at the mention of Occlumency, but continued to listen to her until she was done. Then he tapped a finger to his lips. "Well, your note shows you know I'm an advanced Occlumens...so yes, I most likely know what you want to learn.

"However, I'm not clear as to what you know on the topic currently, or your level of Occlumency at the moment." He shrugged. "It's such an in-depth field of study that being lost in it is akin to waking up to being lost at sea in fog with only your location known. I'd need to know that location before I move on, otherwise I might accidentally start working on topics you probably already know."

An ocean seemed an apt description for the skill, though such meant that questions could not simply be answered with a point along a line, but in terms of width and depth as well. And so Aisling allowed herself a bit of time to properly compose an answer. "I'd spent two decades studying it before the issues arose, and could hide some thoughts and feelings if I wished to do so.  Wouldn't say that I ever mastered it, but my understanding of the technique was quite good. Still is, I suppose. It's practicing them that's the rub."

She slid her thumb across the back of her other hand as she spoke. It was easier to leave a few of the proverbial puzzle pieces lying about. Easier to not put them back together herself. Names and dates and things still hidden. "If I had a better description I would share it, but there it is."

"Hiding some thoughts? Hm. So I presume you're looking to hide all of it instead of just some?" Mordecai steepled his fingers in front of him in thought. "Basic defences would benefit, although in the long run you would want to start setting up smoke and mirrors in your mind to confuse any advanced Legilimens."

He sat up, his hands out; he had a habit of gesturing while he made explanations. "To an intermediate Legilimens, they will know that you're hiding information, but of what they don't know. When it comes to more advanced Legilimens, they can not only feel that you're hiding something, but also force it out of your head. I think it would be good for you to start working on countering possible strangers from your mind.

"Of course, if you don't like pretending that you have nothing to hide, then I won't force you. But usually it's much more recommended to set yourself up a mask that you can...whip out, for the lack of a better word, in the right situations." Mordecai passed a hand over his face. "For all you know, this is mine and I could be deceiving you. Not that I would be, but you get the idea of how useful it is to you, and how dangerous it is if used against you."

Aisling gave an appreciative nod and let her hands slide apart as she relaxed a bit more. Then a soft exhalation of relief. "Hiding only a portion of something can be more tempting to attention than concealing none of it. And Occlumency is not the only mask. Given that most of my work is with the Muggle-worthy Excuse Committee, to object to such techniques would be rather inconvenient." Her voice had turned to lightly mocking herself.

"But yes, there are a few memories that have proven particularly difficult to suppress. And they seem to be associated with using the skill itself, thus my difficulties."  Such analysis seemed to be making the conversation easier for her, and her movements were just a bit more open.

"Would you happen to know anything about the effectiveness of such techniques in more unusual circumstances? Around Dementors, perhaps?" The last words were just a bit quieter than the others.

Dementors. The word alone made Mordecai hesitate. If she was having negative emotions and memories attached to sensitive information, this could be a lot harder than he thought it was. He had not had a brush with a Dementor since the wars, but the times he had experienced the chill of a Dementor in the same room were not exactly forgettable by any standards. She was just a little younger than him, wasn't she? She would know that too.

"Around Dementors, you would be better off defending yourself from them first than a Legilimens," he said, somewhat darkly and more to himself. "Only the best wizards and witches would have the greatest concentration in order to maintain their image through the presence of Dementors and an advanced Legilimens. The amount of effort you want to dedicate into protecting your information or interests depends on you and your situation; I would normally advise to go for the lesser of two evils but it always depends on your choice."

When he spoke again, his tone was back to normal. "Some possible methods are to distance yourself from your emotions and memories. Another is to learn how to lock away these memories very securely. Yet another is to let them go and know that you have nothing to hide with them. Whatever you choose dictates the technique you're most likely to use."

After a short moment he realised he had spoken quite a bit. He coughed, and then smiled. "Since we're going to be here for a while, would you like some tea?"

The mention of Dementors brought the impression of chill to the room, and Aisling shivered slightly as she listened. "Tea would be appreciated. Given the subject, I could use something warm."

His words on methods required a bit more thought for a response, and she tugged at her jacket in response to the perceived cold as she thought. "Dementors and a Legilimens both?" Most of the words were light, with 'both' being spoken in a slightly sharper tone. "I had always found it easiest to distance myself, at least until these issues arose. So another approach seems best, here. Acknowledgment, perhaps."

More hesitation. "Though I hardly wish to rush into such. Or to keep you too late." She'd recovered just a bit of her smile.

Mordecai got to his feet and picked up the kettle to fill. It would be best if he left her to think about what he'd just said, but he still swiftly made tea. He was still practising, but he prided himself on taking interest in brewing tea and doing it within a reasonable amount of time at his age.

He returned with mismatched mugs - the Ministry as a collective was known for bringing in unwanted crockery for office use - and set them down on the desk. Milk and sugar followed; he was not one to add them in at his leisure. He sat down as she spoke. "I doubt you will meet that many people who are willing to both be Legilimens and associated with Dementors. But should the occasion arise, best advice is run."

After a sip of his tea, he added, "In the presence of just one, though, reacting accordingly is the way to go. With Legilimens, clearing your mind the moment you know they have that power is your best shot. With Dementors...just get a Patronus out."

He smiled back at her. "I'm used to working late. And you can take your time. It's not easy to get back into the swing of learning Occlumency, but doing it at your own pace rather than trying to get it done by the end of the year is better. I should know, considering I took over thirty years to master it."

Aisling added a little milk to her tea, then cradled it in her hands to warm them. The cups, though mismatched, were much nicer than the ones she had in her own office. The nicest of those had small chips, and the worst, which were stained and cracked, were usually used to hold birds' blood when she needed something to put it in. "A Patronus is the best choice, yes. But I think we both can remember enough of history to know why it might be unavailable in such conditions."

Her voice remained calm at that subject, though she stared at her mug for just a second too long after speaking. "I tend to have to stay late whenever some incident prompts moments of panic. That's usually more than enough, though with the girls gone it's not as bothersome." Another sip of her tea. So far as tea prepared in a Ministry office went, it was quite good. "And I've been avoiding or delaying this issue for near a decade, now. A bit of pressure would probably do me good."