November 27, 2009
8pm

The Head of Ravenclaw's office was high in the Astronomy Tower and Ylva Maras had gotten directions from an eager house elf.  Earlier that same day, Maras had found two students engaged in the most enthusiastic barbarism she'd seen in a long time.  One of them, shamefully, her own student.  The other? One of Professor Trishna's.

She's sent the boy, Rohan Graham, from her sight with instructions to immediately report to his Head of House.  And now she planned to ensure her instructions had been obeyed, and to make sure that Professor Trishna had all the details. 

The Durmstrang witch took a moment to smooth her dark red robes, trimmed with grey, and re-button a cuff that had come loose.  In the dim light of the tower landing, the her silver eyepatch reflected only shadows and candlelight.  She knocked.  There was light coming from the crack under the door.

"Professor Trishna? Are you in?"

The early evening, just after dinner, was usually one of the quietest times of Tapendra's day - usually. It was also the typical time he was interrupted by students and family on non-academic business, and so while the knock at his office door was a surprise, it wasn't an unfamiliar one. Sasha would have gone straight to the tower, Georgiana tended to knock with her foot, and Cyhirae didn't bother to knock at all.

He put down the book he'd been working his way through and stood up, the awkward shuffle as he worked his way through the disorganized clutter of the office delaying his arrival at the door by a few moments. He was assuming, at this point, that it was someone like Aileen or perhaps Almasy; therefore when he opened the door his expression changed rather quickly. He certainly hadn't been expecting the eye patched visage of Durmstrang's Runes Professor.

The moment of surprise was followed by a beat as he tried quickly to remember her name. Thankfully, her distinctive look and Aileen's mentions of her made the name easy enough to remember.

"Professor Maras," he said, politely. He had to wonder, for a fleeting moment, if she was here to yell at him. "I wasn't expecting you. Can I be of assistance?"

The wizard looked like he'd been caught doing something illegal and Ylva crossed her arms over her chest as he regained his professionalism.  She'd heard about Professor Trishna and his background and while she thought it was half-misguided, half-audacious, she could respect his position here at Hogwarts.  There were to be colleagues for the year, after all.

She nodded.  "Yes, Professor Trishna, you can."  She had a Swedish accent and her English was quite strong now, her proficient knowledge now quite fluent thanks to the local immersion.  "It's about your student Roham Graham.  I sent him to see you today.  This afternoon."

The professor turned her head, waiting to be invited in.  The look on her face made the question plain.  Had he?

Graham. Oh dear - the boy was one of Ravenclaw's premier troublemakers. Tapendra avoided the automatic urge to sigh and slump against the door frame slightly; best not to seem too used to this in front of the foreign professors. He hadn't had to deal directly with the boy quite yet, though he'd known it was coming.

"Oh dear," he said, stepping back and leaving the door open, the invitation unspoken but there as he crossed to his desk, digging through the papers laid out on it. He'd actually cleaned his office recently and the floor had reappeared; now instead of some sort of paper explosion, the office simply looked overstuffed.

"He doesn't appear to have sent me any sort of note - I assume you sent him straight up to see me?" He didn't look up, still digging for any scrap of letter like parchment. The only one he found was his notes on his suit order from Darian, which he'd written to himself.

He sighed, standing with both hands on the desk. "I haven't seen him," he said, frowning and looking up at Ylva again. "Dare I ask what he was doing?" The words this time were not spoken, but they were there, hanging silently in the air.

Ylva followed Professor Trishna into his office which, to describe it in a flattering manner, looked to be a large storage closet.  It was cluttered and a bit cramped, but obviously well used.  She could forgive eccentricities in Professors.  She had her own, surely. 

But in this moment they were acting in their other capacity: not academics, but teachers.  Shapers of young lives.  Mentors.  Disciplinarians.  Another set of skills and passions entirely.  But they'd both chosen it.

She stood at the center and crossed her arms over her chest.  She was feeling absolutely ruffled that her direct order to the boy had been so blatantly ignored.  She'd thought it had been made clear to all students that all staff were to be heeded as if they were their own professors.  Apparently the message had not been clear to Rohan Graham.  Skivving little...

"I found him brawling in the Armory!" she said testily.  "Bloody knuckled and savage, and not a wand in sight.  I must assume that kind of thing isn't tolerated here any more than at Durmstrang.  His opponent was one of ours," she was not proud to admit, "but we are dealing with him presently.  You can be sure the penalty will be severe."

She looked at him pointedly.  She had to expect that Hogwarts would be equally strict with such insolence.

Tapendra blinked once, then twice. A Ravenclaw, brawling? That wasn't - that was a Slytherin and Gryffindor thing. It was not a Ravenclaw thing. His expression, which had been blankly surprised, quickly molded into a scowl. And the boy had skipped out on an ordered meeting.

His thoughts unknowingly echoed Ylva's; the orders of a Durmstrang professor were perhaps not equal to a Hogwarts professor's, but they were to be obeyed nonetheless. He shook his head; what did the boy hope to gain? Punishment was never lighter if you made your punishers work for it. It made it worse every single time. Maybe Graham was hoping they'd give up -

"I apologize on the school's behalf, Professor," he said, standing back to his full height. "Let me assure you that such incidents are not commonplace." He had no doubt the Durmstrang penalty was severe - Ignan had laughed about them enough. Whippings and thumbscrews..."Our own punishment may not be as severe are yours," he admitted, "But it will certainly be effective."

He hoped. He'd have to think of an interesting one - fast.

"However - it appears I have a student to locate," he said, crossing his arms. He didn't know Graham well; the boy wasn't in his classes, just in his house. He rubbed his chin - where would Graham hole up? Not the Tower, surely. That would still be the best place to search, though. There would be students there who could guess at the boy's location. He looked at Maras.

"You're welcome to accompany me, if you wish. I would certainly like to have you verify Graham's account, as I suspect any account he gives me will be somewhat abridged."

Well, that was a good sign.  Trishna was not moving to defend his ward's actions, instead seemed equally affronted at the insubordination.  At least Hogwarts could be counted on for that.  Immediately, Maras felt a professional affection to Trishna - in this they could be effective.

Maras stepped towards the door and opened it.  "Lead on, sir." 

The suggestion was a good one - seek him out immediately and get to the bottom of it. 

"I don't know what you've heard," she decided to say, "but Mr. Faust's punishment won't be nearly as brutal as what the boys were doing to each other.  We're more evolved than the reputation we so much like to propagate." 

She might not have said as much if Tapendra had rallied in defense of his trouble-maker.  But it never really sat right with her how Durmstrang once punished her students.  She'd never harm them.  She and Headmaster Eisenberg were already dealing with Heinrich - a tearing down, revoking of privilages, threats to be sent home, letters to parents.

"Corporal and magical punishment - that's not how we do things."  Anymore.

 

He led the way from the office, locking it behind them. He nodded towards the spiral staircase that led them down the tall tower, descending several stories uninterrupted to the fourth floor. His long legs meant he took the stairs quickly; keeping Ylva in mind, he slowed down a bit, though the temptation to rush was there.

Tapendra paused when she spoke, looking back up at her. It was hard to parse what he'd heard out of the equation, but...

"Most of what I've heard comes from Professor Storm," he said, continuing downwards. "Laughing about when he was a boy and what used to get done to Dregs and the like. Apparently his father - Merik Storm - was a bit of a fan of corporal punishment?" It was more question than statement. "He does it mostly to scare the students and staff a bit, I think. It's likely exaggerated." He hoped it was, anyway.

"It's good to hear that tradition has been overturned, nonetheless," he said. Hogwarts had dropped it years before, though that had supposedly been the choice of a Headmaster, not some general move towards change. He certainly remembered Filtch's threats well enough and had seen the implements hung up in the man's office.

"Hogwarts tends to rely on detentions and removal of privileges and the like," he said, as they neared the landing for the 4th floor. "How effective it is seems to vary rather greatly." He looked about at the base of the stairs, then waved her to the right as he turned and headed on towards the Ravenclaw tower.

"I'm heading for the Ravenclaw dorms," he said, to explain to wher hat he was doing. "I don't think he's there, but the students there may have a better guess as to where he's holed himself up than I."

Do consider Ylva's opinions of things at Durmstrang to be just that - opinions.  I'm not out to directly contradict anyone and perhaps things are... fuzzy as to what goes on officially and unofficially.

Ylva listened to Professor Trishna and was again satisfied with her colleague in this endeavor. They seemed to be of mostly the same mind.

"I have always found both Professors Storm to be grim.  A bit theatrical," said the icy witch with magenta curls and a silver eye patch from Durmstrang.  But that was all she'd say of Merick Storm.  He had never been a wizard to trifle with.  And Professor Storm?  Well what was he doing at Hogwarts anyway?  It was the topic of some controversy and confusion why he'd left Durmstrang, and Ylva could never make square of it.

She let Trishna lead them on through the castle.  There seemed to be ever more corridors that she'd never been in.  There were rumors that the castle was un-mappable, that the architectural was magically fluid.  Such things were certainly possible, and old castles held many secrets.  And according to the flustered Durmstrang students who'd got hopelessly lost their first few weeks, the rumors could certainly be true. 

"Heinrich Faust was on about some duel.  I can't say I would have been too concerned if they'd gone about it like adults, with wands.  There are ways to go about that.  Rules.  Decorum.  But when I found them they beating on each other with their fists."

A thought occurred.  "He walked off by his own accord, but maybe your boy sought your Healer." 

Heinrich had been strangling him.  And Heinrich himself had some wounds needed tended to.  Nothing life-threatening, of course, nothing severe. 

No worries! I assumed that was the case, haha.

Tapendra's smile was a little odd, given her comments on Storm, but the fondness in it was rather obvious. "That he is. He rather enjoys scaring the students, though many find it endearing." Ignan liked the students better than he'd ever admit, Tapendra expected. He certainly had a bit of a  more traditional attitude towards punishment, but with the amount of students he was privately tutoring...

Tapendra turned his head to look at her questioningly. "I'd hardly call that a duel. A brawl, perhaps." It made him think of Harper, really. "As I recall - the proper dueling weapons would be wands, swords or pistols." None of which he really wanted students turning on each other, quite frankly. He certainly didn't want anyone in Hogwarts to discover pistols. He remembered who his company was, and quickly added, "Err - If you count muggle weapons, that is. Either way, there's little honor in a fist."

The halls wound until, finally, the thin but elegant staircase that led to the Ravenclaw Tower appeared. Tapendra paused at the base, considering. He wasn't too keen to try and wrest and injured student away from Tulojow; Merlin knew that the old woman could be downright frightening. She was like Minerva in that way - one strict look and he was like a schoolboy again, authority forgotten.

"A definite possibility," he said, looking up the stairwell. "Though one best explored in a few minutes, I think. Our Healer is rather tenacious when it comes to her patients at times."

He started upwards, glaring at the door and its riddle-lock when it came into view. He hated the door to the Ravenclaw Tower; how often had he slept on the stairs as a student? Its riddles often left him at a loss. He glanced at Ylva as the lock sprang to life, the soft voice speaking in its usual melodic sing-song.

"What has roots as nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes
And yet never grows?"[1]

Tapendra did look at Ylva then, clearing his throat. "You have to answer correctly or it won't open," he said, with a soft sigh. Tapendra was terrible at riddles; he didn't think poetically, as most riddles were written, and the strictly literal approach was almost never the actual answer. He certainly needed a few minutes on this one, that was for sure.

1.	A Mountain. Yes, I am that lazy.

Professor Trishna had brought them to an impressive door with an ornate lock.  Ah yes, the strange and storied houses of Hogwarts.  Each had their own wing of the castle, apparently designed and designated by one of the four ancient founders in ways to emphasize their most prized qualities.  Ravenclaw.  House of the curious, the intelligent, the studious.  Ylva wondered where the Sorting Hat would have placed her, which house might have suited her best. 

A riddle was posed and Ylva turned her head when Professor Trishna didn't answer it himself.  Was this a friendly tradition for a guest? Allow them a try out of courtesy?  Was it a challenge from a colleague in the spirit of the Tournament?  She was not so ingracious to guess that he didn't have an answer.

She nodded her head as if accepting an invitation.  "A mountain, I believe."  Riddles in a second language were never easy, thanks to puns, but luckily this on had its cousin in German, another language she was familiar with thanks to Durmstrang. 

She hoped that they'd find Rohan in his commonroom and wouldn't have to contend with this Healer Trishna seemed to be worried about. 

Tapendra flushed, glad that his skin hid the color and embarrassment. He managed to keep his expression under control, but barely, turning what would have been embarrassment into a polite smile. She'd solved it so easily, and well - he'd have been out there awhile. Sometimes he wondered if he was suited for Ravenclaw.

He couldn't think of anything to say, so settled for a polite nod to her as the door opened into the Ravenclaw Tower. The common room was always a bit breathtaking after the closeness of the tower's corridor - tall and airy, the windows open to the high ceiling and the walls painted in blues. The ceiling had stars on it, and Tapendra felt rather better once they were inside. He had a student to find, of course.

Several students were there already, most of them studying or working. This was normal for them, but - from what he knew of the boy - did not seem Graham's type. Therefore he instread zeroed in on a small group of boys playing Poker by the fire.

"Good evening," he said, cheerfully. They politely muttered agreement, their gazes looking from him to the eyepatched professor behind him. The question wasn't asked out loud, but he could hear it nonetheless.

"Have any of you seen Rohan Graham, bychance?" He asked, resting a hand on top of the couch two of them sat at. They looked at each other before one of them spoke up.

"He was on the 6th floor, Professor," the boy said. "Near one of the empty classrooms. I saw him when we came up from dinner. Is there - is something wrong?"

"No, no, everything's fine," Tapendra said, with an easy smile and assurance. "Just mundane academia. Thank you, Tibbins."

My!  Ylva was immediately taken with the space.  Such a contrast to most other parts of the castle.  The commonroom was bright, open, blue.  Just pleasant all around.  She was not ungrateful for the fine accomodations Hogwarts had provided Durmstrang but being resident seemed to have it's benefits.  The children within were all well-behaved and did not resemble the little brute she'd met in the Armor Gallery.  They were even more than forthcoming to assist their Head of House.

Ylva nodded her own thanks to the boys after a long look, their game of cards reflecting in her polished silver eye-piece.

She wasted no time in leading the way right back out of the commonroom and beginning the way down the stairs.  She had a fair idea of how to get to the sixth floor from here - at least how to get out of the wing.  She was confident enough that Professor Trishna would take the lead if he noticed a wrong turn.

"I must thank you, Professor Trishna.  I can't say I was expecting you to be so agreeable to a joint effort.  That's clearly my shortcoming, not yours."

Now he followed her, long strides making it easy to keep up with the shorter witch. The 6th floor, at least, only had one empty classroom on it - one likely still containing the leftovers of the last seminar held there. He wasn't sure why Graham would be there, but it was a lead. And a good place to corner the little bugger, too.

"Hmm?" He made a sound in his throat as he turned his attention back to Ylva when she spoke up. "Oh! No, it's - the pleasure is all mine." He considered that for a moment. "Err - what little there pleasure there is, considering the situation..." Still, his own expectations had been similarly overturned, he'd have to admit...his expectations had been more based on the fact the woman was wearing an eyepatch. She had a certain look about her that suggested she wasn't to be messed with; he hadn't really expected cooperation from her, not this kind anyway. Maybe the kind where he cooperated and she led. "The Ravenclaws are usually much more well behaved," he added, this being a point he felt needed stressing. "Not usually the...dueling types, you see..." They were more the 'sit about and read and be sort of snobby' types, on average.

"The classroom they meant's just around the corner," he said, having been counting and recognizing portraits. It was sometimes the best way around the school.

Hogwarts was certainly a warren, but with Trishna's guidance they were close.  She turned and looked at him as they walked, as he talked, and offered a flat little smile.  She would have to take him at his word about the Ravenclaws.  And for the moment, ignore the small point of contention - it wasn't dueling that Ylva had a problem with, it was the manner in which they did it.  Savage and without any rules or order.  Fists and props instead of well-cast spells from a proper wand.  The former was overly emotional and had no clear outcome, the latter was a satisfying way to resolve differences, when done properly.  It was a mess all of this.

The set of heavy wooden doors that led into the classroom in question were closed.  On the front was an old noticed tacked up about a recent Tournament seminar.  Ylva laid her hand on the handles and glanced at Professor Trishna.  He'd leave this to him, but not without making sure Rohan knew that her orders were to be followed.  That she would find him.

With a large motion, she swept both doors open wide so that she and Professor Trishna stood side by side in the open doorway, glaring in at whoever was inside.