9:00pm, Durmstrang Ship
The winter holiday had been largely unremarkable – much to Auberon’s disappointment. Spicing up the holidays with a little festive terror cheer was always a favorite of his, but he had been advised not to bring his brand of fun to Hogwarts – which, though he was loathe to admit it, was the wise choice. As entertaining as a rampaging Yeti in a Santa hat always was, Hogwarts seemed unlikely to appreciate it.

Barbarians.

That, and their students had this pesky tendency to get themselves killed. Durmstrang’s track record wasn’t exactly spotless - he knew that firsthand - but they at least knew how to keep their deaths quiet.

So he sat in his quarters on the ship, a steaming mug of Wassail on the desk in front of him and the ship cloaked in its usual brand of silence, the creak of the wood and quiet sound of the water echoing up into the chamber.

His tournament staff had a new addition, this term, and one he had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, Gunderson was the sort of professor he found interesting – the man’s attitude as transparent as the way he often looked at the more attractive among the female staff. At the same time, his attitude did tend to grate on the nerves, some days…

With the Christmas celebrations he had yet to formally brief the man, and tonight was the night to do so. As footsteps approached from the corridor outside, he sipped his mug, sitting up in his chair. When the door opened, he grinned his usual wide, slightly wolflike smile and greeted the man in loud, booming German.

“Ah! Gundersen! So good of you to stop by. Take a seat, take a seat – lot to discuss tonight, hmm?”

The welcoming feast had been... A tiring affair, to say the least. The food was, in Torolf's opinio, sub-par and having spotted the likes of a common prostitute at the staff table he was beginning to actually fear for the safety and livelihood of Durmstrang students and those from other institution. Was Headmistress McGonagall aware that her Charms professor was moonlighting as a male prostitute who called himself Ross when he was away from the castle grounds? Torolf certainly hoped that she was not aware. And he intended to get to the bottom of what was going on... at some point. For now he had more important business to attend to. Such as meeting with his employer Headmaster Eisenberg upon the Durmstrang ship.

Torolf did find it a bit distressing that the headmaster got to spend his time on the ship while Torolf was forced to remain in the castle among the Hogwarts staff and students. He arched a brow as Eisenberg mentioned how good it was of Torolf to come by. It was not his choice- he'd been summoned. But the headmaster seemed to be in good spirits, therefore Torolf had no desire to dampen them. The true wrath of Eisenberg was not something he'd yet to fully experience, and he hoped to keep it that way. And he wasn't certain how much it would take to tip the man over the edge- but Torolf had a feeling it wouldn't be very much.

"Have we?" Torolf asked whe Auberon mentioned they had a lot to discuss. "I was unaware that there was anything to discuss. Have I managed to offend someone already?" he inquired, leaning back in the chair offered to him with a vague air of indifference.

Ah, Gundersen. Always the brightest and most charming flower within Durmstrang’s walls - provided you were comparing him with the resident manticore. Auberon grinned at the man, rather enjoying the man’s blunt nature – he was sure he’d made a wonderful impression thus far.

Perhaps he should assign him to assist the Headmistress as a sign of good faith? Ah, no; that would push it too far. One of the more beautiful female professors, perhaps, but that would be more of a reward as far as Gundersen was concerned.

“We have,” he confirmed, sitting back in his chair and slamming his feet up onto the desk, his large leather winter boots still a bit damp from the snow outside.  He regarded Torolf for a moment, before picking up a leather bound book that had been sitting on the massive wood desk. It was, as the gold leaf title announced, Durmstrang’s account of incidents…well, for the years 2000-2009, anyway. He flipped to a section near the back, raised his eyebrows, and then tut tuted.

“Your track record at Durmstrang is not exactly stellar, Gundersen,” he said, looking at him – the slight gleam in his eye indicating easily enough that, though his words might say otherwise, Auberon really couldn’t care less. “Oh, it’s nothing terrible, of course…not by our standards. But Hogwarts’ residents may raise an eyebrow. Especially over the issues that sent you to us, hmm?”

Political scandals! The scandal was what had made him hire the man, truth be told, but very few people would ever know that.

“Thus I do hope I can impress upon you the importance of being at your best while you are here. While we have all been allowed – nay, encouraged – to bring our school’s culture to bear upon the students, I should hope it goes without saying you are expected to be polite to the other professors and students, no matter their individual inferiorities.”

"My track record at Durmstrang gets students good grades and prepares them for the harsh reality of the world when they leave our hallowed halls," he commented. "I was unaware you displeased with my performance as a professor? Now seems an awfully inconvenient time to bring it up, Headmaster, should that be the case." Torolf arched a questioning brow at his employer, wondering exactly what this was about. No students had died nor had they been seriously maimed in any of his classes. His punishments could be harsh, and a hands on history lesson might get out of hand once in a while- but none of it was particularly abnormal by Durmstrang standards.

Then he mentioned Hogwarts raising a brow. "My political career is hardly the business of anyone at Hogwarts... And I doubt they would know anything about it, considering how long ago it was. Besides, the scandal is no worse than what they encounter in their day to day lives." Really... Bribing and threatening people to get what he wanted was not entirely unheard of, and he doubted anyone at Hogwarts would know or even care.

The headmaster then got to his point. Torolf was expected to be polite to other professors and to students. "I am well aware, Headmaster Eisenberg, my personal political and societal beliefs would not be well received by our hosts. I did not intend to go off spouting purist rhetoric at young, impressionable minds." He intended to accomplish that mission with more subtlety. "Though I see how they could oppose to my attempts to bring some morality to the student body, considering one among the Hogwarts staff moonlights as a male prostitute during his time away from the castle."

Auberon raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. Torolf’s track record at Durmstrang – or, at least, the part of the track he’d been attempting to allude to – had much more to do with the ladies on staff than any desire to see the children prepared for the real world.

He smiled, thin-lipped, and when he spoke his words were carefully chosen – genial, but still carrying just a touch of ice to them. “I was referring, Gundersen, to your interactions with your fellow professors,” he said, with a hint of smirk hidden in the lines of his face. Back at Durmstrang, he found the man’s escapades a bit endearing. Here, they seemed likely to cause McGonagall to visit the ship – something he’d rather avoid.

“You will find that at these occasions people are entirely too eager to air each other’s dirty laundry, as the saying goes – though you’re well aware enough of that, I’m sure. Have your fun, Gundersen, but be clever about it, hmm?”

He’d been about to say more when Gundersen’s final remark made him pause, carefully, unsure how to react. He settled for a slow, disbelieving blink as his mind worked quickly. He’d never understood Gundersen to be the sort to know such people or be caught dead in their part of town – why pay for what you can get for free, after all? – and so his brain’s first possible explanation fell flat. For that he was grateful.

“I certainly hope it isn’t one of the ugly ones,” he said, with a grunt. “That is, however, quite the accusation. What makes you say that?”

Fellow professors? Gundersen raised his own brow. "I was under the impression, Headmaster Eisenberg, that I got along rather well with my colleagues." And if they were pretty and pureblood, he often got along with them too well. Of course, he doubted Hogwarts would have any women pretty or pure enough to tempt him. No, he would dip into London society for a bit of fun if that was what he desired. "So I haven't the faintest idea what you could be referring to." Though his affairs among Durmstrang staff were not a secret, he very rarely openly admitted to them. He did have a wife at home to think of, after all, and it would do no good to be honest about his affairs if he wanted to keep her and allow her the chance to have some dignity.

"What makes me say that?" he repeated, with a snort of disbelief. "The man propositioned me!" he exclaimed. "Shortly after my arrival I was making a trip to Knockturn Alley- one of my friends told me it would be the place to locate the items I needed for a demonstrative class to the first year students of Hogwarts. I could not find the particular antique shop so I asked a stranger on the street to point in me the right direction."

"Initially I assumed he was a street person. His clothes were ratty and wet, his hair a mess, and he had an eye patch for Merlin's sake! I simply asked his name and he started accusing me of looking for..." he trailed off, making a twirling gesture with his hand. "A rent boy, I believe were his exact words. Accusing me of wanting to take him on! I was quite insulted, and told him as such. He told me his name was Ross and that it was a shame I was not interested in being his employer... That he would be the talk of the town. A crazy fool, really. Imagine my surprise to see him at the Hogwarts castle, only to find out his name was not Ross but Professor Nightingale. I should think that Hogwarts would have a better screening process for who they hire... Or perhaps they pay that poorly?" Torolf speculated.

"It made me incredibly uncomfortable, the entire interaction. I was simply looking for an antique shop... Is that some sort of English slang for prostitute?" he inquired of Auberon, as though his employer should know such a thing. "It is the only explanation I can think for the man's wild accusation. Unless, of course, he is entirely unhinged. Given his appearance, that would not surprise me, either."

Auberon greeted Torolf’s half-protests with silence and a slightly wolfish, but knowing, smile. He’d let the man draw his own conclusions as to what the Headmaster might know or suspect – leaving them halfway in suspense was always the funniest way to rile his staff up, after all.

Besides, what he had to say about…well. Auberon rarely let his mind wander to the subject of rent boys, but to watch Torolf get himself into a fluster over it was entertaining. That said, the prospect of having one running about Hogwarts was rather terrifying. Ye gods, what if he showed that side to students? The scandal!

It made him want to grin, really. Poor, darling Minerva. She had such a colorful selection of staff.

“If it is, I have not heard it used before,” he said, sitting back. His fingers ran along his chin as he considered, an eyebrow half-raised. “What a strange person. I’ve heard comments on him from the students, but certainly nothing of that nature. Though if half the rumors flitting about here are true, unhinged is more likely. Still…”

He raised both eyebrows. “Do you feel we should inform the Hogwarts staff, Gundersen? Would not do to have such an…interesting individual saying such things to the wrong people. I should tell Ignan, of course – I would not wish to be the one to offend Minerva’s delicate sensibilities.”

He narrowed his gaze at the way the headmaster smiled at him. Though Torolf was fully aware he was not the best at keeping the wheelings and dealings of his bedroom under wraps, he had been a tad more careful about any affairs with members of Durmstrang staff. That was a bit more scandal than he needed. Torolf licked his lips and re-situated himself in the chair, his calculating gaze never leaving the headmaster's face. How was it the old man seemed to know everything you didn't want him to, and nothing of what he should.

"As much as I do enjoy the idea of trumpeting the fact about, just to pay the little wretch back for the discomfort he publicly caused me, I thought it was a matter better dealt with in private. I am sure that the Headmistress would not be appreciative of a foreign visitor besmirching the name of her employees- however true the statements might be. Though, as fellow educators, I do believe we are bound by honor and duty to report this most scandalous behavior to Headmistress McGonagall." His voice took on a saintly tone, and he dramatically lay a hand across his chest. Naturally Torolf was not bound by honor or duty to anyone but himself, the words just sounded nice and made the intent seem less malicious.

"It wouldn't do to have the students coming aware of the matter. I had intended to discuss the matter with you, or bring this little fact to the attention of our dear Professor Storm. Though now I assume the matter is entirely in your hands, Headmster. But imagine if the parents of our students knew the kind of riff-raff we were exposing them to through this tournament. Imagine should this prostitute attempt to romanticize the lifestyle of such an abhorrent trade! If he is unhinged, would he have the wherewithal to understand such conversations should not be had with pupils?" Torolf speculated eagerly, leaning forward a bit, having forgotten (for the moment) Eisenberg's awareness of his own questionable transgressions.