Sitting room of the Durmstrang Dormitories,
Approaching 9 PM.

It was only the quiet, methodical rhythm of the elegant grandfather clock that stood in the middle of Durmstrang's commons room that gave any notion that time was passing.  With most of the students gone from Hogwarts over their Christmas holiday, the days since their departure had been pleasantly unremarkable.  Day stretched into evening and on into the night with barely an incident to mark its passing, save for the Christmas festivities the day before that he had politely stayed well clear of.

All in all, Atash had been quite enjoying the holiday.  Or would have been, if it were not for the unavoidable duties that such a holiday entailed.  This year, there had been more promises to keep than the last -- mostly information to run down, though there were limits to what he could do from England.  A small blessing, in its own way.

The castle was quiet enough that he had even taken to using the Durmstrang common room for his work.  Many of the students had returned home to their families for the holidays, and the few that remained were enjoying the peace as much as their professors.  Things had rather quieted down for the evening, and Atash was enjoying some solitude as he read over the most recent correspondence from his uncle in a large, plush red armchair set in front of the fireplace, when the sudden sound of footsteps and the boom of the opening door gave the very vivid indication that he was no longer alone.

The mage glanced up, but only the fact that he suddenly went very still showed anything even close to surprise at the sight of the visitor.

"Professor Gundersen."  He folded the letter carefully in half, returning it to his pocket.  Professor Torolf Gundersen was his senior both in terms of age and experience at Durmstrang, though Atash had been teaching for nearly as long.  Even so, it meant that the other man was inherently deserving of deference, whatever his other qualities.  The Iranian mage gave him a respectful nod as he rose carefully to his feet.

"I did not realize that you were coming to join our number, sir," he remarked, giving the older, white-haired wizard a polite smile.  With Gundersen, one had to be careful not to show too many of one's teeth.  "I trust your journey here was uneventful?"

Torolf had spent the holiday with his family. Much to his chagrin. His daughter was behaving every bit the spoiled brat she had been raised to be, and his son was constantly complaining of boredom. Thorben had only been home for five days and could find nothing to entertain himself. And, upon hearing his son's reports of how things at Hogwarts were going with the tournament, Torolf had decided he owed it not only to himself and to his son, but also to the less educated masses of wizarding society, to bestow his presence upon the tournament. Children had to be taught from an early age the way things Ought To Be, and it seemed that the students of Hogwarts and those from visiting schools were missing out on those very important lessons.

So after obtaining permission from Headmaster Eisenberg, he packed his things and was on his way to Hogwarts the day after Christmas. His son was in tow. If Thorben thought being at home where he had everything he could ever want was boring, then Torolf would show his son what boring was- stuck in a dungeon at Hogwarts with very little freedoms.

After getting his things settled into the Durmstrang dormitories, (what pitiful accomodations Hogwarts had made for them!)  Torolf found his way down into the common room. He was pleased to see a fellow professor, and approached the man's spot by the fire. He returned the polite smile with a nod, summoning a chair to the fireplace for his own use. Naturally the chair was not good enough for Torolf Gundersen, and a few quick magical improvements later found the man settled into an ornate, overly cushioned chair complete with matching ottoman.

"The journey was indeed uneventful, and as pleasant as could be expected." Professor Hendurabi need not vocalize the true question behind his simple statement prior to the polite inquiry- which was What are you doing here?

"I decided the likes of Hogwarts could benefit from my particular brand of instruction." He was a very severe instructor toward those he did not like. "And my particular set of morals. Thorben has led me to believe the students of other schools behave as heathens. As my son is not a boy prone to exaggeration, I thought perhaps the less than savory folk of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Salem could use a few lessons in propriety." And naturally Torolf considered himself qualified and entitled to teach those lessons.

One eyebrow quirked politely.  "Ah," said Atash.

The mage was more than capable of reading between the lines -- but with Professor Gundersen, one didn't really need to.  The white-haired wizard make certain that his intentions were written with all the blaring volume of an malfunctioning Howler.  No doubt Gundersen had come specifically to save the foreign students from themselves.  There was a possibility that the man had some sort of underlying personal motive, but even if he did, even that would be presented soon enough.  At least he did not have to worry about the other man keeping secrets.

It was not difficult to fathom a guess as to why Eisenberg had allowed the Intangibles professor to join the team overseas, either.  Gundersen undoubtedly would stir the pot here at Hogwarts.  Atash had noted already how quickly the Hogwarts and Salem students rose to a fight -- the Durmstrang team had used that to their advantage once with the subtly placed leak about dragon pox.  The second that the man began spouting his views to the student body, there was certain to be an uproar against him.

Although it remained to be seen if it would be the right sort of uproar.  If it was too targeted at Durmstrang, or if the other students pulled together too much, then it could put the Institute at a disadvantage.  And there was always the issue of the soft students at Durmstrang -- the ones like Faust, who always seemed a bit too ready to leap to the defense of Muggles.  The boy had performed admirably in the last Task; they certainly didn't need him questioning his schooling overly much now.

But all that was not an issue that he wanted to raise in conversation at the moment.  Far better to wait and see what sort of reaction Gundersen received.  If it was too strong -- well, Eisenberg likely had a plan in place just in case.  He didn't think that the Headmaster would throw the entire Tournament simply for his own amusement, but one never knew.

"Yes.  Thorben would hardly exaggerate," Atash said smoothly.  He gave the other professor a curious, inquiring look.  "Although I am not certain that such heathenism is not contained to the student body.  I hope that the Hogwarts staff will appreciate the balance that you will bring to their curriculum as much as your efforts will deserve."

"I trust his judgments. He's learned his character from the best. Both myself and my father are an excellent judge of his character. We were forunate that his mother did not soften him up too much... Of course, she's always been more concerned with the rearing of our daughter. In retrospect I likely should have been a tad more aware of what her mother was doing to her. I'm afraid Brigit has turned out to be quite spoiled and contrary... She is lucky someone would have her as a wife. I know I certainly would not have, were I the man in question. Though I suppose she must be a bit nicer to him than others, or he must spoil her like her mother considering the marriage hasn't yet dissolved." Though Torolf's son was in his fifth year at Durmstrang, his daughter was close to thirty years old.

He was disappointed to hear that the heathenism might be amongst the staff of Hogwarts as well. How would the children ever learn to be better people if those instructing them were of less than appropriate standing or capability? Naturally not everyone could be an excellent instructor such as he- especially considering the overwhelming amount of youth among Hogwarts staff. There was something to be said for experience and age when it came to being a professor. How could a thirty year old teach children about life lessons when they were merely children themselves?

Of course, Hendurabi was also quite young. So for now, Torolf kept that observation and opinion to himself. It would do no good for him to go about insulting a fellow professor. The tournament demanded unity among the schools. He only intended to set about being divisive when it came to the other institutions. He'd already devised a few plans for his seminars and classes to aid him in this task. His first goal was to terrify, belittle, and divise Hogwarts. He could move on to other schools afterward. Torolf assumed Salem would be an equally easy target... Beauxbatons might prove more difficult, but they were far more concerned with beauty than success from his limited experiences.

"Even if they do not appreciate it, their opinions are of little consequence to me long term. I am not here to make friends." Which was good, he likely would not make any even if he wanted to. Pleasantries were not his strong suit. "How are you finding them all to be?" Torolf asked.

Atash listened politely as Professor Gundersen shared his thoughts on his son, parenting theory, and his daughter's future marriage prospects; it was only by looking closely that one might notice that his expression was ever so slightly pained.  No one had evidently taken it upon themselves to inform his fellow educator that opinions served one better when they were kept to oneself.  Either that, or more likely, Gundersen simply didn't care.  How the man had lasted as long as he had in politics was a mystery that he'd have to sort out one day.

Clearly, Gundersen was not here to make friends.  Education was the man's higher calling, and Atash was very careful not to let his personal opinion of that matter show.  Whether Gundersen made or lost friends, it would affect him little.  With any luck, his fellow professor would use his gift for the bombastic to spread discord amongst their ranks.

"How are you finding them all to be?"

Atash paused, arching his eyebrows ever so slightly as he considered how best to respond.

"Much as one would expect," he said simply.  "Competent, but their discipline and ability varies."  Most of the staff members that he'd encountered fit neatly into the predictions that the Durmstrang staff had made, back over the summer.  That was a danger in itself, since the trap of expectations was an easy one to fall into, but as careful as the mage was, he'd still seen little that inspired him to change his assumptions.  Beauxbatons was refined, but lacked adaptibility.  Salem thought outside the box, but lacked control.  And the staff of Hogwarts seemed to be all over the map.

"I suspect that you'll encounter them for yourself, soon enough," he said easily, as he rose from his chair.  With many of the students gone, the professors had taken to keeping a pot of warm tea continually heating on the fireplace; magic ensured that it did not overbrew or boil itself out.  "Several of them live here at the castle, and a handful chose to remain over the holiday.  Would you care for some tea, Professor Gundersen?" he asked politely, as he started to the fireplace.

Competent? Torolf clucked his tongue sadly. "Competence is hardly an appropriate qualification," he stated. Of course, he would have to judge for himself. He seriously doubted that any of the professors from Salem and Hogwarts were legitimately competent. Storm, perhaps, but that was only because of his very long tenure at Durmstrang. These other professors were likely soft. "Discipline is lost on so many," Torolf commented with a sigh. "Many people do not realize how important proper discipline is to the success of a child. Spare the rod, spoil the child." Not that he went out of his way to discipline his own son. If anything, Thorben was spoiled. Of course, heirs normally were.

"I suppose I will encounter them. I do not look forward to collaboration. I imagine that will not go over so well..." Luckily for Torolf, as he held seminars, he would be less likely to encounter resistance. Nobody at Hogwarts, Salem, or Beauxbatons taught Politics or Mythology... At least not to his knowledge. When he did his own little classes on the subject, there would be nobody hovering or telling him that he was doing it wrong or incorrectly. History of Magic, however, which was one of his particular favorite subjects, was a different story. He had learned the name of the professor at Hogwarts and was hoping to manage to commandeer his class without the man's interference. How could he properly teach if someone was going to be interrupting his lessons? (And Torolf knew for a fact the kind of lessons he intended to teach would be regularly interrupted by anyone who did not share his staunch purist views. He doubted anyone on Hogwarts staff had that mindset anymore.)

He nodded when Atash offered him tea, adjusting his position in the chair. He pushed the ottoman away- it interfered with a comfortable posture when he tried to prop up his feet- and watched his colleague move toward the fire. "Chose to remain over the holiday?" Torolf asked, quirking a brow. "I am certain some were likely required to do so to keep an eye on students who opted out of going home. But I cannot imagine any adult choosing to remain in a place as drab, dreary, and drafty as this castle when they have comfortable homes elsewhere. Of course, I have heard that in the past those who live at Hogwarts as staff do not have anywhere else to go. Imagine, having nothing else in your life but a cramped room in an old tower and drones of students passing in and out with each school year. It would be a terrible way to live."

Torolf rather liked having his nice home in Norway to return to during holidays and breaks and whenever else the mood struck him. He often missed being at home full time until he remembered that also meant being around his disgruntled wife full time. "Are there any on staff you would advise avoidance of?" Torolf asked. "I should hate to cause a great stir right off the bat. While I am certain that I shall offend people as time goes on, I should like to prolong it as long as possible."

It was lucky that his back was to Gundersen as he conjured up two teacups, setting them hovering in the air, and then levitated the pot off of the fire.  Atash's expression was far from polite; of course Gundersen could not imagine anything but the warm, cheery, comfortable house where he had spent his holidays.

"Yes.  Imagine that," he said flatly.  The tea kettle carefully tipped itself over the first cup, filling it to the brim.  Atash flicked his wand at it, sending it spinning across the room towards his fellow professor, and then silently commanded the kettle to begin pouring into the second.

There was little point in taking anything that Gundersen said personally.  The mage knew that.  The other man offended nearly as easily as he took breath; it was his gift, as sure as any other.  Whether or not he intended to cause offense did not matter.  Such a man was obviously useful in an educational setting; he taught the students to wear a thicker skin, and gave the staff reason to steel their spines as well.  Taking offense at Gundersen's words would not leave him anywhere but on the losing side of the exchange.

And so he mixed some sugar into his cup, and then returned to join the other man by the fire.

"Well," he said, cocking an eyebrow as he glanced at his fellow professor.  "I would certainly hate to offend Headmistress McGonagall when she has welcomed us so warmly as guests."  Obvious, perhaps, but with Gundersen it might need saying.  He stared into the fire thoughtfully, giving his tea a moment to cool.  "There is Kesali, the Charms Professor.  He is a bit excitable.  And you must know Professor Storm, of course, from when he instructed at Durmstrang."