Professor Finnigan,

Care for a cuppa this evening? If you aren’t too busy, there will be a steaming pot of tea in my office at 7:30.

H. MacLeod

He’d written the note, folded it into a perfect paper crane, and with a quietly uttered animation transfiguration, sent the flying parchment upon its way. Henry really hoped that Effie would appreciate the thought put into the note… using transfiguration magic on it and such, and would pay more attention to that rather than his horrid handwriting. He had no reason to expect for her to accept the invitation, but he’d thought he had found a kindred spirit in the young lass – both of them new to the teaching staff and all.

The arithmancy professor brought his pipe to his lips and took a long puff from the tip, held the smoke in his mouth, and puffed it out into rings that circled the room before dissipating into the air. He hoped Effie didn’t mind the smoke – and he’d put it out as soon as she arrived in any case. He’d already set the kettle to boil, and if she were coming, the stature challenged witch would be joining him shortly.

A fire cackled merrily in the fireplace, adding extra warmth to the room. An abacus sat atop a stack of papers on Henry’s desk in one corner and in the other sat a platter of biscuits. One couldn’t have tea without biscuits, now could they? Henry wasn’t truly a fan of tea – preferring coffee any time of day, but knew that he was a rare bird in his beverage tastes, so he’d deal with tea for the evening.

Myrna, the hummingbird, twittered around her cage, itching to be let free. It wasn’t often that Henry kept the little creature caged, but she tended to get excited around new people and Henry didn’t want Effie to end up with bird droppings in her hair. “Oh hush, ye,” He muttered to the bird, taking another puff from his pipe.

Effie[1] was still adjusting to being back in the Castle; she was not used to such a rigid time table. When one was teaching on their own time, usually with a very small group if not one on one, she could adapt her lessons as needed. It was harder with more students, trying to facilitate everything they needed her to be. She had no idea how anyone did it, lest of all did it as well as her Professors had when she was a student. Still there were little bright spots - having already become fast friends with the Arithmancy professor Heny MacLeod. He was such a darling little man!

This opinion of him was only furthered when a paper crane made itself into her office and landed on her desk. She almost hated to unfold it; but had a feeling she was supposed to and was quite pleased when the note was revealed. She was really very lucky that they'd taken to one another. She didn't feel very guilty admitting to him she wasn't quite sure what she was doing. She was sure of what she knew, she was sure of her skill, she was even sure of herself as an instructor (her track record spoke for itself); the problem she was having was finding the balance in an environment so different from the one she usually had.

Also, she would have been lying if she said the fact her former Professor and mentor being her boss didn't freak her out quite a bit. She didn't think anyone expected her to be Minerva McGonagall; but she expected herself to be on par. These students deserved the kind of education she had been afforded but after day two of lessons she had started to question her ability to be that person for them. Shaking her head she slipped her blazer back on and headed out to meet Henry. If anyone could cheer her up it would be her pint sized cohort; in fact standing outside his door being greeted by the scent of pipe smoke had already lifted her spirits a little as she poked her head in, "I heard someone was offering a good cuppa to wayward Transfiguration experts. I'm not too late am I"?

1.

wearing

Henry had taken to humming under his breath as he waited for his much younger colleague to show, Myrna singing along, when the voice drifted through his open door. The tune was Scottish in making, and his voice was certainly out of tune. Henry had never been a very strong vocalist, but give the man a stringed instrument and he’d blow you away.

The part-goblin wrapped his palm around the head of the pipe quickly, effectively smothering the tiny flame. A small trail of smoke unfurled from the tip, escaping before the quick death of the fire. “Effie!” He exclaimed, a bright smile splitting his bearded face. “Welcome!” Though his office still wasn’t entirely put together since he’d moved in – it was still better than nothing. He placed the pipe upon the top of the desk and raised himself from his seat (though there wasn’t much difference in height).

He moved himself swiftly from around the desk, wincing slightly at the pain in his feet, and offered Effie a warming hug. He knew that lots of people didn’t enjoy contact, but for those that Henry liked, he was very up close and personal, and for some reason, he didn’t think Professor Finnigan would mind too much. “How’re you settlin’ in?” He asked the witch as he pulled away from the hug and waved his hand toward the empty chair in front of the desk. Instead of taking his place back behind the desk, he opted for the second seat in the front, so he could be closer to his new friend.