His first days in England were already proving to be interesting and action packed and for the most part, Vadim Vyrubov was content to keep to the shadows of the Shodding Arms Hotel where he was staying. But surprisingly for the reclusive magizoologist, there was something -- or rather someone -- who could coax him out into the public sphere.

Vadim had become acquainted with the lovely young Bai Li Yang some years ago when she had traveled through his neck of the woods (or mountains, as it were). They had collaborated extensively on the study of magical beasts. Despite the gap in their age and Vadim’s tendency to be an ageist as far as expertise was concerned, she had managed  to impress him with the breadth of her knowledge and her attention to detail. And thus, he had endeavored to stay in contact with her.

He had fallen behind on his correspondence with her of late which had him feeling sheepish but when news of her traveling with Salem to Europe for the Tetrawizard Tournament forced him to make amends and come out of the sanctuary of his beloved mountain reserve, especially when she suggested collaborating for a seminar involving some of their most intriguing subjects.

Once he felt he was sufficiently settled in his lodgings, he had sent word to her to meet up for dinner to discuss the particulars. A neighbor in the Shodding Arms had suggested The Sword and Chant as being a place that was good for food and drinks with friends.

The tall Vyrubov instinctively dipped his head as he walked through the door but he immediately straightened on the other side. He paused for a moment and scanned the cafe in search of his colleague. Several patrons looked up from their refreshments only to quickly cast their eyes away again, as if holding his dark gaze for too long might inflict upon them some unfortunate fate.

Vadim did not see Bai but he did see an empty table and strode over to claim it. He whirled off his cloak and draped it over the back of his chair and then in another fluid movement he undid the buttons his suit jacket before sitting down.

Under his breath, he muttered a Russian profanity along with grumbly, “I hate public spaces...”

"Y'drinking, mate?"

Balfour glanced up from his copy of the Daily Prophet, surprised to see the server staring across the bar table with a surly expression. He'd forgotten where this was for a moment. The Sword & Chant wasn't where he usually came to drink but every so often it provided the right atmosphere to mull over articles in the evening.

Scrapping together information for another Haunting Hour. "Ah, yes-" a suddenly tired but genial smile. It had been a long day in the field. He was weary even after the warm shower and dinner. "- Malacca gin with a dash of whisky, won't you?"

The bartender disappeared and Balfour readjusted his reading spectacles, looking back at the scribbled paper. Nothing momentous worth noting since that bloody Kingstreet fluff piece on Saturday. His drink arrived and he finally folded the news away to take it, turning around on the bar stool.

"Vadim?" This was principally to himself, as the barman couldn't justifiably care less. Balfour looked around awkwardly for his things before hopping off- he grabbed his jacket in one hand, drink in the other.

It wasn't everyday one spotted old Vyrubov out of the blue- or out of the cold, rather.

"Vyrubov!" The dragon handler felt the weariness in his grin give way to a kind of fondness; he pulled a chair out with his boot but refrained for joining the table just yet. "They'd told me you were in town-  on pleasure or business? I would hate to interrupt either."

He wasn't long settled into his seat when he was approached by a server to see about some sort of drink. At first, Vadim was prepared to hold off and wait for his dinner companion to join him before ordering. But he overheard another patron sitting at the bar order a drink that sounded too interesting (and familiar) to pass up. The old wizard couldn't quite remember where he had heard of it before, but that was no matter. Barely giving it more thought, he gruffly told the server that he would have what the bar gentleman was having.

Not long after the drink arrived, his attention was diverted from his first sip by someone calling his name. The dark wizard looked up to see the face of someone else he knew but was not expecting to meet in London. And a fellow lover of magizoology no less. Astonished, Vadim looked around the bar again, wondering if The Sword and Chant was the watering hole for those who chose that as their profession.

The Russian recovered quickly, notching it up to coincidence and greeted Balfour with a gesture to one of the chairs. "Good fellow," he nearly barked, his lips curling into a rare smile but it was nearly hidden by his moustache and beard. Then, looking at the drink in Spectre's hand and the identical one that had been placed before him, Vadim added, "I should have known that vas you ordering such a drink." To the other man's comments about his purpose in town, Vadim waved them off. "Business. I don't do ze pleasure." And that was the truth of it for the cranky old wizard for anyone who knew him. The only pleasure he usually engaged in was the thrill of working with his creatures. And though he shared a fondness for the likes of Bai and Spectre, it was hard to characterize any interaction with them as entirely personal given their respective professions.

"Sit. Sit," Vadim urged with a wave of his hand. The sudden movement jarred some locks of his hair out of place and they fell into his eyes. Reaching up, he ran his hand through his hair to settle them back into place. "Vhat are you up to these days?"

A delighted laugh shook his shoulders as he finally sat, seeing now that they had taken to the same poison.

"Business in London must be serious-" Balfour's concern reached his eyes, touched by a spot of curiousity. "- if it has brought you away from the Sanctuary." The older wizard oversaw territories and creatures that inspired astonishment in anyone who visited the sprawling lands.

Himself included. Travels to that part of the world had been dubious but for Vadim's reserve.

Balfour took a draft of the smokey martini and the taste alone, sinking into his tongue like a languid vowel, brought back reminiscences. The familiarity of it broadened his smile.

"You wouldn't imagine it," his smile grew instantly droll. "I'm heading the Beasts Division at the Ministry. A blasted Longhorn mauled me in the Highlands last month and they put me in charge before I was even out of the damned hospital." Of course most of it had been department politics, some misgivings regarding a predecessor.

His tone might have been rueful but anyone who understood his disposition also knew that Balfour did not get himself into any trouble he never wanted in the first place. He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg of the other as the drink took another tilt.

"I, ah-" a quick swallow. "- I'm not swamped, otherwise. Had to deal with centaurs last week, that was new business for me." They were a tricky lot... almost as tricky as some humans, in fact. "And you, friend?" Balfour raised an eyebrow at his acquaintance. "What new business brings you here?"

"Hmmm," came Vadim's half-grunt, half-hum of a reply to Balfour's comment about leaving his beloved Sanctuary. The old wizard finally took a sip of the drink set before him and to anyone else, it may have felt scorching on the way down. But not to the fire loving man. It would take a lot more to put him off of a stiff drink. It was practically a way of life when Siberia became so unbearably cold.

Vadim eyed Balfour across from him and pointedly said, "It's been a vile since you visited, friend. The beasts vill forget you if you stay avay too long."

But the old man understood that life called wizards in every which way and not many were content to stay in one place for too long. These young whipper snappers had so much drawing their interest these days.

As Balfour spoke to his job, Vadim shook his head, hardly able to comprehend a contented life consisting of sitting at a desk and pushing papers all day. And though he did not relish in the idea of his friend being wounded, the Russian was pleased to know that his sense of adventure in dealing with beasts seemed intact. Gumption like that was to be respected.

"So a Longhorn? Lost your touch, then?" he teased, his face crinkling around his dark eyes. The light hearted rib had plenty of challenge to it as Vadim was eager to know if Balfour made a point to stay on his toes, especially in his new administrative post. He thought about the comment about centaurs and chuckled. "Better you than me."

He finished his drink and then addressed his own purpose for being her. "I am meeting vith Bai Li Yang about a seminar at Hogvorts." He waved his hand in the air for emphasis. "Part of that Tournament thing they are doing."

“And I am very grateful you’ve chosen to come, Vadim,” a voice murmured softly, a smile clear in its tone. And when its owner drew close, the men could see the smile for themselves—could watch it brighten as it slid from face to face, touching upon each like a kiss on the cheek. “Truly. It has been a while. Hello, Balfour.”

Modestly dressed in deep, elegant purple– a nod, of course, to the school she had arrived with –Bai Li hardly looked much more than a passing acquaintance of either man, particularly the grizzled Vyrubov; she was tiny, compared to him, and delicate-seeming, and nearly as out of place beside the red-haired Balfour, who she didn’t know quite as well. However, she stood at their table with an ease that whispered of familiarity, and the small smile gracing her lips was sincere. There was strength there, in the confident curve of her back, even if it wasn’t readily apparent.

There would have had to be, if one was to gain the respect of a man such as Vadim Vyrubov in the first place.

“You weren’t waiting long, I hope?” she looked at him in askance, as she peeled off a long, leather glove by the fingertip. “I do apologize.”

"An expecting Longhorn," Balfour asserted genially to the older man's teasing. "I still check up on her and the hatchlings."

His professional pride stirred at the insinuation but coiled back into itself, reassured by something resembling obstinacy. He spent more time in the field than the department head would like, as it was, and didn't feel like now was a prudent hour to defend the fact.

Before an opinion could be formed on Vadim's reasons for being in town- well, one of the reasons itself made an appearance. Not many men could boast the pleasure of so darling an interruption. Balfour felt a smile creeping up on him.

"Hello Bai-" he stood instinctively to draw another chair for her. "- I hope you don't mind my having run into your date." The final word uttered with perfect, platonic ease. "He's a rarity, as you know."

Vadim turned at the sound of a distinctly feminine voice and the old wizard practically jolted out of his chair to pay his respect to the young witch who approached them. As Balfour did likewise and moved to pull out a chair for her, Vadim simply bowed his head briefly to acknowledge what she had said. "Ah, yes. I do not leave Siberia often, but how could I resist vhen you tempt me with such delicious ideas?"

He left that comment in the air as Bai greeted Balfour and then resumed his seat. But he was quick to reassure her, "Not long, no. And this vipper snapper here kept me company. Ve were just chatting about his misadventures with dragons." Vadim returned his dark gaze back to Balfour, keen on chiding him for such a devil may care attitude when dealing with dangerous beasts. He pursed his lips, which could easily be missed amongst his beard, but his disapproval was clear in his comments. "I hope you vill take more caution next time, my friend. Surely you don't vish to end up like me." Vadim cleared his throat rather gruffly then and reached up to tug at his collar and he grimly muttered, "Some scars can never heal."

There was almost genuine concern in the sentiment. But his words were fraught with a certain kind of melancholy reflection that came with experience and old age. Vadim's eyes moved from Bai to Balfour and back again before his expression subtly changed again to one of fondness.

"Perhaps ve are all an endangered species," he simply said. And he gave the table a forceful tap as he took a long swig of his drink.  "Dis is vhy ve must pass zee knowledge and enthusiasm for creatures on to da next generation."

Sinking gracefully into the proffered seat– and beaming, delighted, as the older of the men hastened to stand –Bai laughed, the sound silent but bright, and though politeness had her covering it with a hand, as his tone grew stern, it shone in her eyes. The curve to her lips deepened; he so quick to get to the point. Though that high praise, coming from him. “So long as it listens,” she murmured, arching an amused brow, her tone lilting ever so faintly. Sometimes the next generation could be very… recalcitrant.

Well, them or their parents. But she hardly ever had any real trouble with them.

Vadim’s words, however… Thoughtfully, Bai’s eyes narrowed. When they had agreed to meet at the Sword & Chant, the man hadn’t offered much insight into his motives, and for all the fondness that she had for his skill, wisdom, passion for the field and the man himself, she was curious as to what they were. Vadim Vyrubov did not leave his mountain for paltry reasons, much less for someplace far from home. “You know it is always a pleasure to see you, dear friend,” she began, pausing only to place her order when a serving witch came by, “for one does not see you enough—understandable, of course, when you have such fine company to keep you. I trust they are well?” She paused just long enough to mark her interest in a separate answer.

“But one cannot help but wonder what draws you here,” Her wine arrived and poured into a glass, Bai took a delicate sniff and slanted Balfour a glance.