"You're meant to be in your common room, its past curfew." Ignan greeted Tapendra by the Hogwarts gates. He'd suggested meeting there, but was a minute or two behind his good friend, and couldn't resist the pot. Almost a year before he'd mistaken Tapendra, a new colleague, to be a student just by the gates when they'd coincidentally been heading out to the pub independently.

They'd got very merry at the pub, met Cillian, Gabrielle and Johann down there amongst others, and woken up the next morning in the same bed, which had begun their friendship in a rather unusual way - initially from Ignan to ensure Tapendra didn't reveal their accidental awakening like that.

"Merlin, I need this, Christmas seems a small century ago!" He clapped his friend on the shoulder, the gates opening with a metallic rattle for them.

"How are you, Tapendra? Still surviving?" Ignan asked as they stepped outside the gates, turning to face each other. It was easy enough when sober, and considering the cold weather, only logical to apparate their way to Hogsmeade High Street.

"To the pub, to hell if the school burns down in our absence."

Casting a last glance back up the hill at the school, the two professors blinked out of sight and reappeared moments later not far from the front door of the pub.

"Salvation." Ignan muttered, feeling more upbeat for the prospect of an evening catching up with his best friend. He motioned for Tapendra to lead the way.

Ignan’s old age made it difficult to offer up an immediate comeback that wasn’t tasteless, but Tapendra was in no hurry to resort to that. He smirked and let out a bark of laughter at the older man’s quip instead, shaking his head.

Apparation was never pleasant, and Tapendra had thankfully never tried it drunk. Simon had told him about the after effects once; that had been enough, as the man had been kind enough to show pictures. But even sober he stumbled a bit on the landing, ever the graceful one.

The pub’s lights burned brightly in the otherwise dark streets, and Tapendra didn’t waste much time and stepped inside, pulling off his fur-lined winter cloak quickly when they were inside. He answered Ignan easily enough, scanning the crowds for an empty table.

“Surviving, yes. Rather wishing it was still Christmas, I admit.” The tower’s peace and quiet had been welcoming, but by gods what he wouldn’t give for an internet connection in there. “You saw the house – it was like that the entire time. I feel rather like the break didn’t happen at all.”

Of course, much of the drama that had hung itself over the festivities had its hand in that feeling, but…

He spotted a table, tilted his head towards it and then wove through the crowd. It was a booth by one of the windows, the gentle pattering of rain starting against the panes almost as soon as they sat down.

“Feels rather longer than a year, doesn’t it,” he observed, as he relaxed – long legs crossed and then jutting out around the table’s base, out of the track of others. He raised his eyebrows at Ignan. He’d heard a few things over the break and first weeks, but they hadn’t really had time to talk, not really.

“How are things with the family?” He asked. Ignan’s ambiguous relationship with his father was something Tapendra usually skirted around, if he could. “First your father, and now Johann noticing people romantically…” He knew enough of the family’s bets to know someone had possibly lost a few galleons to that Prophet article.

"… you saw the house…"

"I did." Ignan replied, and smirked, before the two of them wove their way to a table, just in the nick of time as the rain started.

"Its been a long year." Ignan agreed with a nod, "A very long year indeed. But better for knowing you." He sat back, fingers tapping the table edge.

Tapendra began to ask questions, and Ignan's eyes slid from the crowd to his friend thoughtfully.

"All in good time, what are you drinking?" He got up from his side of the table, a hand going to his pocket where his coins were. Once he had procured the necessary alcohol choice he wove his way back to the bar, acquiring it as swiftly as he could, and returning.

"Yes, bit of a surprise to have to bury him quite so soon after Christmas, but it was going to happen sooner or later. Ended up seeing more of the family than I usually do." He shrugged and raised his glass.

"As for my young cousin, I can only hope Hannah Bombay makes a decent man of him, if they survive." He placed his glass down and sighed, enjoying himself at last.

"What of you though? I wondered for a moment if I'd interrupted something between you and Aileen on Christmas Eve, though you'll probably assure me not. I am however rather impressed you've entertained Cyhirae's boyfriend choice." Ignan's expression read that he was being sarcastic.

“Hah! Same,” Tapendra said, grinning as he slumped into the wooden chair, unfolding as only one with long limbs like he could do. His eyes followed Ignan as the older man stood, and he tilted his head thoughtfully. “The usual, I think,” he said finally, his usual here being Strongwand’s Hard Cider. Tonight was one where being adventurous could wait til he was a bit liquored up.

 He picked up the glass as Ignan returned, sipping from it as Ignan answered the questions he’d asked earlier. The way the man said it, Tapendra wondered exactly how many relatives had crawled out of the woodwork when the will had been carted out. “I’ll give your family the benefit of the doubt and assume that wasn’t a terrible thing, then,” he said, eyebrow quirked.

Ignan’s comment on Hannah and Johann made him snort a tad derisively, as he sipped from his glass. “That’s a big if, from what I’ve heard. She’s a lovely woman, certainly, but Johann doesn’t seem well matched with anyone remotely…fiery.” One nice big block of ice seemed Johann’s type – or something academic, anyway. But what did he know? Perhaps behind closed doors the two had long conversations and debates about the exact nature of medicine or languages.

Tapendra’s gaze, which had fallen to that stare-into-the-distance stare one got while thinking, snapped to Ignan at the man’s question. He was silent a moment, and then he smiled and shook his head. “You interrupted something, certainly, but it’s not what you think, no. Frankly I remain stunned she and I are on friendly terms at all, given the history.” He shrugged. “She’s certainly changed. Not just in the years since school, but in this last year.”

He looked thoughtful, an expression that was rather derailed when Ignan spoke again. He sipped his cider resentfully, if indeed one could do that. “Oh, entertained isn’t the word. Tolerated. Found no reasonable objection to, perhaps. The boy is nice enough, certainly makes an effort to be gentlemanly. His grades leave something to be desired, but he’s got a good heart in him.”

Tapendra set his glass down with a resolute thunk, arms crossed on the table top. “And if I did try to stick my nose into that, Cyhirae would never let me hear the end of it.” 

"Well, if you need him disposed, I'm sure I could find the time." Ignan offered darkly across the table. "I hope he is good to her though, she deserves a decent wizard by her side, even if she is far too young for thinking about it still." There was still that strange sense that Cyhirae was a granddaughter of sorts to him, and for all her quips and comments in the past year as his friendship with her father had developed, he was fond of her.

"Perhaps she is the making of the boy, we can only hope. My cousin, Gabrielle, is most fond of his father, I discovered not long ago. Seems that Christmas was rather a fruitful time for many with that respect." He raised his drink to his lips and then lowered it to the table after taking a sip.

"Its about time you had a woman by your side too, take a leaf out of your daughter's book." The older wizard challenged Tapendra, smirking. Tapendra would know that Ignan wasn't being hypocritical - despite the imprisonment, he was firmly attached to Azorma.

"You see, I had my suspicions about you and Aileen on Christmas Eve... well, you did spend the trip together over summer..."

“I’ll let you know,” Tapendra said, with an equally wry smirk. Ignan Storm, Exterminator of Tweens. On him, that title worked well. Still, he didn’t think he’d need to call in Ignan; Ambrose seemed a genuine boy, even if he was a bit thick. And...well, the little blighter was so damned endearing, he couldn’t even fault him for his thickness. He might not be the brightest bulb but he meant well, and that was really the best Tapendra could hope for.

He’d been about to respond to the rest of what Ignan had said, in agreement with the man, when Ignan continued. Tapendra swallowed the gulp of beer he’d taken quickly to avoid choking on it, the blush automatic and the sputter even more so.

“I – well – I mean – it’s not like that. At all,” he said, quickly, waving a hand. “I mean, she’s – she’s intelligent and beautiful but not…we have a history and it’s not a positive one, alright? She wouldn’t be into men like me, anyway.” He forced his gaze down to his beer, shoulders slumping slightly as the initial shock faded and he considered an actual response to the allegation.

It didn’t help that the only people he was…well…he had any sort of thing going on with were people he was rather embarrassed to even think about, at times. Dolly was a difficult one; he loved the authoress and was…well, his second thoughts on their encounters had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his widower status. And Dolly’s fame meant mentioning their trysts felt a bit like parading her name about. And Darian…

He didn’t know about Darian. He’d have to sort that out at some point.

“I’ve no luck with women, Ignan. Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, really.” He drank again, shaking his head as he sat the glass down and swallowed. “I don’t try. Things are a bit more…complex, when you have kids, and –“ He his gaze, if only for a moment, darted to the plain wedding band he still wore. 

“I’ve no luck with women, ... I don’t try. Things are a bit more…complex, when you have kids, and –“

Ignan raised both his eyebrows over his drink from across the table.
"Does that make you any less deserving of being happy?" He asked his friend with all seriousness. "Not that I mean to imply that you're unhappy in all aspects of your life, just that - well, of the two of us, you've a far better shot at things." He sipped his drink and considered things. To be Tapendra's age again, to make different decisions? No, he wouldn't change things, it wouldn't lead him to where he was now.

"You're right, she is beautiful." Ignan agreed over Tapendra's assessment of Aileen Reid. "Not sure how Hogwarts does it, but it stocks a fair faced set of female Professors each year. I suppose it keeps the attention of teenage boys."

He raised his glass to his friend in a mock toast of this being a favourable routine by the Board of Governors.

"So other than being loveless and tolerating your daughter's choices, what has been happening in your life?"

Tapendra had no answer for Ignan's remark, his reaction saying everything - he looked surprised and then, as was usual for him, a bit guilty. "No, I - I mean, I suppose it doesn't, but..."

He drank from his drink a bit too gingerly, then, tilting his head back with the glass. When the glass lowered the look was gone, replaced by his rather more normal mix of smirk and smile. "I don't know about that. You've actually got, you know...." It was had to put what Ignan had into words. The older man was not handsome by...well, but most standards, though he wasn't unpleasant looking either. Presence, perhaps? It was Ignan's rather dour and dark nature that made him instantly appealing, especially when one peeled that back a bit and found he wasn't quite so dour after all.

In the end he smirked, and settled - with the aid of alcohol - on "You've got mystery, Ignan. With me, what you see is what you get." Overly-eager interest in anything muggle aside.

He raised his glass in reply to Ignan, shaking his head. "I had a thing for Minerva when I was in school, you know," he said, casually, seeming more amused by the idea than anything else. "I think I'd have had rather more interest in many of my lessons had we had our current roster, though, yes. Perhaps they've the right idea."

He slumped back in the hard-back chair, shrugging at Ignan's last comment. "Very little, honestly. There's not much, but well -" He stopped a moment, looking at Ignan, expression slipping for a just a second. Sasha was the other thing, but...no, the boy had been clear. He smiled abruptly. "Never mind, it'd take too much context," he said, and that much was true. "Muggle stuff, you know," he added, an easy excuse. Sitting back up, he leaned on the table.

"And you? Heard you found yourself in Libertine, of all places. How did you find Mister Morgan?"

"Of all the people I thought you'd have a teenage crush on, Minerva was not in my top ten." Ignan laughed, genuinely surprised that Tapendra had once thought Minerva the subject of attraction or fantasy. "What a revelation!"

"And you? Heard you found yourself in Libertine, of all places. How did you find Mister Morgan?"

"Efficient, a little flamboyant. It was from meeting him at new year at the event at St Mungo's, that I decided to make an appointment. He's been recommended to me more than once, I just... its not my favourite thing to do in my spare time, robe shopping." Ignan shrugged and half closed his eyes to indicate his laid back attitude to it. "Worth the investment, certainly."

He raised an eyebrow at Tapendra, who pivoted from bare feet, t-shirts and jeans through to the smartest of attire on a special occasion.
"You been to get a set? Might attract the right kind of older witch you're hoping for..." 

Tapendra grinned, in an embarrassed sort of way. The laugh he let out was one that was both slightly nervous and rather evasive. "Hah," he said. "You didn't see her back then, then. She had a glare like a knife and the voice to match."

He drank as Ignan described Darian, nodding in agreement with the man's assessment. Darian was at worst, well, a bit on the obnoxious side - but on his good days and when he got down to business, Darian was quite the competent tailor.

Somehow he had the feeling Darian had paid less...persistent attention to Ignan, however. At least he hoped that was the case - the mental image was not a pleasing one, that was for sure. He was sipping his drink again when Ignan commented on his clothes, and he looked at him with surprise.

"I can't imagine you're much of a clothes shopper, no," he agreed, as he set the glass down, arms crossed on the tabletop. "He's a good tailor. Worth the coin, though his stuff is a bit more, um...colorful than your usual attire."

Ignan's question was a difficult one to answer, and he chewed his lip as he considered. "You could say that. We're...um, friends, I suppose. Met him by - well, through Landis. They're cousins." He rubbed the back of his neck. It was best, he decided, not to mention the blackmail. And the modelling, and then...well, the kissing - "I bought my school attire from him. He also sends me things, sometimes. Ties and the like."

"Yes, I twigged the family resemblance with the name." Ignan agreed to Tapendra's comment that Darian and Landis were cousins. "He sends you ties?" He made a mild surprised grunt over that. "You must be a favoured customer."

Ignan sipped his drink thoughtfully, brow furrowed as he thought back to the Saturday.
"He seemed more interested in talking to Johann. I'd taken him along for a second opinion, because he'd be unable to keep a straight face if I was being dressed in something ridiculous. I suggested he might be in the line for a wedding suit, so I imagine Morgan was doing it to ensure his business, however the two of them ended up discussing flowers of all things." He gestured with a hand that this seemed frivolous to discuss with a tailor.

"Although his father's gone and collected monies from most of the family on the bet over which way he was going romantically, after that conversation I had my suspicions none of us were right." He shook his head, "ultimately though, the visit was productive, and as for the results, you'll have to wait to catch me wearing one of the suits. At the price they were I'm not risking them being burned with curses in a lesson. You're alright, gazing at stars."

He placed his glass back down on the table and ran a fingertip around the edge,
"Which reminds me, how have the studies of occlumency and legilimency been coming along lately?"

"Must be." Tapendra shrugged, the slightest show of discomfort on his features. Ignan was one of the few people in the world he felt somewhat comfortable sharing concerns with, but the conflict over Darian was one of those things he couldn't rationalize even to himself. Besides...it was Ignan. So I've sort of kissed a bloke several times was probably the best conversation starter to use....if he wanted to see the man jump out a window to escape.

"I do hope the wedding...well, works," he said, seriously - frowning at Ignan with somewhat open concern. "And, his choice of partner doesn't necessarily rule out the other, um...options. There are many shades between liking exclusively either gender, and - well, different topic."

He certainly wasn't about to try and cast his vote for bisexual or something - the whole marriage seemed a bit odd to him, but as much as he'd liked Johann the few times he'd met the man, he didn't have any method to judge that match. He'd only heard of the werewolf healer via Simon, whose comments had been polite but, well...she didn't sound like Johann's type. Oh, and the Prophet articles...

Tapendra looked up at Ignan's question, slumping back in his chair with a shrug. "So-so. Legilimency is easier for me, for some reason. I suppose I think too frantically for Occulmency. Can't get the thought pattern quite right." He reached forward to grab his glass, resting it against his chest. "I'll need to match up against you again soon, I think. See just how badly I've mucked it up. Legilimency's easier to practice on my own."

Ignan listened thoughtfully from the other side of the table.
"Everything's easier when you're not being hurried, pressured, tested though. Well, apart from where you need the motivation." He gave a little shrug. "As for how to practice legilimency on your own, what poor person have you been trying to read - not the cat?" Poor Kepler, if so. Ignan didn't fancy the thought of reading how a cat thought about cleaning its backside.

"Well, still have the pensieve, so you're most welcome." He lowered his chin and fixed his friend a look over the table, "And if you're very good, I might let you try that legilimency on a proper subject." Ignan raised his glass to his lips and swallowed slowly, enjoying the feeling of unwinding.

"Has the ... motivation for learning things remained or have things become a little quieter of late?" The older man asked with some concern, keeping his voice light enough so as not to draw attention to anyone who was casually eavesdropping. 

It had been the cat, as a matter of fact, and Tapendra’s instantly flustered look confirmed that one quickly enough. It wasn’t the best test subject, he knew, but the mind of a cat wasn’t so terribly different from a human’s – a little less crowded, perhaps, and certainly more self-absorbed. It helped that the only really embarrassing scenes Tapendra might find in the cat’s head were those he himself had been present for.

“Maybe,” he admitted, sipping his beer with a rather embarrassed sideways glance.

The if you’re good comment made him grin, though, and he shook his head. “Oh bugger, and here I’ve got detention over that mess with Professor Kesali. Whatever shall I do?” He put his glass down, crossing his arms on the table.

Ignan’s question did quiet him down a bit, and he sat still for a long moment as he considered. Things had gone quiet, yes, but he was all too aware that at any moment, it wouldn’t be again. But with the Aurors on the case apparently having closed it –

“The motivation’s still there,” he said, finally, looking up at Ignan a bit more seriously. “Things are quiet, but it doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way, and it might help with –“

He cut himself off abruptly. He’d almost said something about Kronos and Sasha. Damn Ignan for making it easy to just talk without guarding his words as much as he usually did.

“With other things. It’s an interesting exercise, if nothing else.”

"Yes, no harm in keeping it up, I'd only encourage it." Ignan agreed with a nod from the other side of the table. "I'm glad things have gotten a little more quiet for you though. It can't have been easy living with that hanging over you while her trial was on." There was a fraction more stress in Ignan's voice as he referred to Azorma by association and his eyes fell to his glass with a little sigh.

"Poor cat." He muttered after a moment, distracting his mind with thoughts of the cat. "At least you can accurately present it with the dinner it desires?" Ignan suggested, meeting Tapendra's eyes again as if he hadn't mentioned anything in between.

"I should challenge you though, a cat is easy." With a wink, he raised his glass - presenting a challenge.