Morningtime

The only thing that Adelebert truly hated about being an auror was the copious amounts of paperwork. It wasn’t a secret that reading had always been a challenge for him—and he was convinced that he simply did not read words the same way everybody else did, or as accurately. As a result, he often had trainees help him with his paperwork by proofreading and making sure that everything was legible and easy to understand. Today though, he was a bit too ashamed to ask a trainee for help for the fifth time that afternoon.
 
Several of the other aurors would have been more than happy to help, but there was one who he had yet to reach out to—though something in his gut told him that he could ask her.

They hadn’t interacted much, but he believed firmly that like everybody else in his office, she must have adored his desk area, covered in cozies and lace. (He really didn’t know for sure if they enjoyed it, but he was happier with this version of them he had concocted in his head)

He picked up the last few sheets of paper he had completed, and strutted over to Adrianna’s desk. He wasn't sure if he had seen her transform from some sort of bird to a human this morning, but even if he hadn't, Bertie beleived the greeting he had in his head was perfect. He put on his most pitiful face and pouted at her.

“Tweet tweet,” Bertie said dramatically, “I need help.”

Adrianna had come in as usual on her daily routine as a magpie. She knew it wasn't good for her, using that form so much, but it temporarily freed her mind from the worries of work for the rest of the day. And it was fun. It cheered up her day. When she sat down, she felt that she could face the workload with a smile, and that was all that really concerned her at the moment.

However, her idea of a day at work did not, as such, begin with a fellow Auror tweeting at her. She jumped in her chair and stared at his doleful pout. Then she edged away from him, mostly so that she didn't have her vision entirely filled by aforementioned pout, and so that he didn't have a free serving of a close-up of the scars on her face.

Also, tweets. Did he see her change from her bird form? If he had, aaaawkward. Hopefully he didn't bring the matter up.

"Yes?" she asked, before trying to adapt her Beijing-tinted accent to something a little less foreign. "Um. What do you want help with? Sorry, do I know you?"

“You see,” He sighed and covered his eyes with the back of his hand, as if the information was too much for him to bear. Honestly, it was just fun for him to put on a show. “I need help with this.” He wiggled the papers and they made a shuffling noise. Bertie spread his fingers and peeked through the gaps at Adrianna.

“I am not very good with written words.” Bertie stage-whispered. “Would you please proofread it for me?” He wanted to make sure the paperwork was at a moderately decent standard before being completely done with it. “I know we have trainees but—they have better things to do, and I’ve already asked for their help multiple times today.”

Bertie gasped, “Of course you know me!” He put his hands on his hips sassily, which also caused the papers to wrinkle. “I-I work at that desk over there!” He looked at it pointedly, making a spastic motion with his head in the direction with his desk. “It’s rather hard to miss it, you know, there’s cozies everywhere!” He lowered his voice and his lip quivered, “I even made you your wand cozy… Tweet, twitter.”

"Oh. Oh, the wand cozy." Adrianna laughed, nervously. She'd liked it so much that she had taken it home and wasn't using it at all -she really did cherish gifts, even if they were small or weird. In this case she hadn't ever thought of a wand cozy, but then again if she hadn't thought of it someone was bound to, and he had. "I, um, sorry! It's been a while."

She looked at the papers. They seemed fine at first glance, but then again who knew what lurked under the murky waters of grammatical error and misspelling? Though...

"Why me, though?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow up at this. "I'm...not really that good, I spent seven years talking and writing in an entirely different language. And why are you acting like that? I'm sure people would be okay with you having a bit of a problem with letters and words, it's not like it's a big deal. Is it? Can you stop waving your papers around?" she added, hastily. "They're getting crumpled. And why are you tweeting at me?"

Good. He was remembered because of the cozies!  Bertie couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself for being so memorable!

Bertie flushed a bit, making his skin look rather red and blotchy. “I just… I thought you’d be good. And you don’t seem like the sort who’d make fun of me.” He pulled up a chair and sat down in it. Hopefully they’d be chatting for a little while longer, and he didn’t want to be standing above her.

“You do speak two languages. You’re good with languages. I can barely write in one!” Adelebert pouted again, “It’s a big deal to me.” He had always been sensitive about it, and he wasn’t afraid to show that. Many people had learned not to tease him, as he’d start crying. That usually made them stop. He didn’t care if people viewed him as weak, as he knew that he wasn’t. However, Bertie was sensitive when it came to matters of his intelligence, because he rarely did feel smart.

“I’m tweeting at you, because you’re the feathery sort, correct?” It didn’t take long for him to bounce back and grin widely. “Would you rather I caw at you? CACAWW!”

Adrianna was a bit taken aback by by Bertie's assurance in her. She blinked at him before she remembered to say something.

"Why would anyone laugh at you? That seems mean." Then she remembered what department she was in. She was still trying to figure out how to take her words back when he mentioned her proficiency in languages. Ah. Well, her accent did give things away.

"Um okay, I'll try my best...what?" Feathery sort? "I can do without the cawing, thank you. What do you mean by feathery sort, anyway?" She glanced down at the papers as she spoke, skimming through the words. Usually she would have suggested a Spell Correction Quill, but she had had her experiences of those in Hogwarts and they tended to be unreliable as they aged. Translation Quills (or Pens, in China) were bad enough.

Adrianna picked up her quill lying on her desk - a plain black quill - and dipped it into her inkwell. "I hope you don't mind that I use red ink? It's more burgundy, but it's still red..."

“Ah, well, yes, I never really understood why people laugh at each other in general.” Bertie shrugged,  “I mean, if they do something funn I understand, or if they tell a joke.  But I don’t think I’m being funny most of the time.” To him, he was just being himself. Bertie understood that he was a bit odd, but he also felt like he deserved to be treated with the same respect as the most mainstream of people.

“Feathery sort. Birds of a feather caw together.”  He nodded towards the quill,  “Don’t mind burgundy. I’ve knit a few burgundy caps recently.”

“But yes. The cawing. I thought it was obvious.” Bertie lowered his voice, “Magpie sounds aren’t  the prettiest bird calls.” But crow sounds were?!  Bertie himself was an animagus-- registered, though he didn't usually talk about it. It was easy enough for them to access that information as it was available to the public. It was listed as: Adelebert Elwood Hughes: Chickadee, large beak and blue eyes.

She wasn't really listening to him, admittedly, as she went through the words. At least she was thankful his handwriting was legible. Bad calligraphy had been one thing that she had had to suffer during her years in China; she often prayed she wouldn't get that here.

“Magpie sounds aren’t  the prettiest bird calls.”

Adrianna's head snapped around to him. She stared at him for a full minute before she relaxed. Then she went back to reading through his work. "Yes, I know, that's why I don't sing in that form," she said in a voice lower than normal. "But I don't want other people to know. Not especially here, I don't fancy pranks being played on me just because I'm a magpie."

Why did it have to be so difficult? In China being an Animagus was something worth respecting. Not everyone passed the qualifying exams, and the invigilators made it even tougher to even score a passing mark. She had had to study hard, and in return she got the admiration for persevering. Here it just felt like a special spell, nothing more.

"So, you're an Animagus too?" The tip of her quill left red marks across black on the rough surface of the parchment as she corrected a sentence fragment. "What bird? Crow?"

“The sort of people who would pull pranks on you because of that are not he sort of people you want to be friends with anyway.” Bertie said quickly, “I know as well as you do that we can’t choose our form.” He knew that if that was possible, he wouldn’t have chosen a chickadee, or any sort of bird as a matter of fact. He would have been something cool, like a lion! Or a bear! Or an anteater!

Bertie watched the paper as she made her corrections, making mental notes to not make that same mistake next time. Of course, he probably would make that mistake again. English and languages were not his forte in the way that dueling, transfiguration, and disguise were. “Yes, yes, I’m an animagus.” He nodded.

“A chickadee. A little fluffy bird. It has a much prettier singing voice than a crow, but I’m good at making it annoying.” When Bertie had learned to do it at will, he chased his sister around at a family dinner until she petrified him. It had been totally worth it. 

"Well I don't know, my best friend used to leave cute shiny things on the desk for me at work in China. But she kept it to a minimum, and they were things I wanted anyway." Shangquan had found it amusing as to how Adrianna, in magpie form, would become heavily protective over any shiny thing on her desk, but even she had been well aware that it wasn't something Adrianna wanted to keep doing. "It would be nice to be cool, yes, but I blend in well with the urban landscape and it works for my job. The Chief Auror would have had it way harder..."

Her voice trailed off as she continued marking. At least Bertie's grasp of language wasn't as bad as she had anticipated, but she was still filling the page with red. It was starting to look more like a Hogwarts essay.

"Chickadee?" She smiled. "That's adorable. I guess people don't throw stones at you. In China magpies are signs of good luck, but here apparently people associate magpies with death. I just roll with it now, I guess."

“I wish I had a friend who put shiny things on my desk every morning!” Bertie exclaimed, though that wouldn’t have made sense. Chickadees didn’t have an affinity for shiny things—they just liked to make noises and eat bark. He had also read that Chickadees were very comfortable around humans, and would even eat from the hands of people. Still, the only reason he had researched all of this was because it was his animagus form. Chickadees were an American  bird. He stuck out around those who were observant enough to notice that he was not a native bird.

“I’ve never had anyone throw stones at me.” Except for his brother and sister, but that was in human form and all in good fun as children.

He pondered Adrianna’s statement for a second. “It’s interesting, how different cultures view the same thing in opposite ways.” Bertie mused, “Little magpies—sign of death, or good luck?” He peeked at the paper, covered in red marks. “You’re a magpie. I’d say you know best. What do you think?”

Adrianna turned to the next page. "Mm I don't know, I try to bring luck as much as I can. Trying not to steal shiny things is more of a concern than being seen as a sign of good luck or death."

She corrected down the page some more. "You know, at least you don't have problems with numbers. Or solving puzzles. I guess where paperwork's concerned you don't work very well, do you? What made you decide to become an Auror? Did someone not let you know that it's equal parts wandwork and equal parts paperwork?" The last sentence was in a light, teasing tone with a warm smile to let him know that she wasn't making fun of him.

“I have problems with written language. I also have problems thinking about the right words to use.” Bertie said bluntly, “I read very slowly. I write very slowly. It’s part of what took my training as an auror so long. I was great with the transfiguration, concealment and disguise bit—but everything else was a little challenging.” He shrugged but then grinned widely. “Oh believe me, I was warned about the paperwork from the start. I just really wanted to try it. See if I can do it, prove myself. You know? Rub it in the face of people who doubted me.” If there was one thing Bertie hated, it was being underestimated.

“But—I won’t be an auror for long. I’m surprised you haven’t heard? I’m finishing up this week and part of next. The 9th is my last day.” He puffed out his chest a bit. “I’m going to be the transfigurations professor at Hogwarts.” Which would mean even more paperwork. Still, he felt that it was paperwork regarding something he was very good at. Plus, transfiguration itself was very hands on. Students did need to read the theories in the text, but they also needed to practice by doing.

If being a professor didn’t work out, he could reapply as an auror. All the positions at Hogwarts were rumored to be cursed.

"Oh, really? No, I haven't heard that you applied for a professor position. Congratulations!" Adrianna's voice was delighted and sincere. "And so much less dangerous too, I hope - well, unless you face off against particularly innovative students." She laughed a little as she finished correcting his paperwork, making sure she didn't make any mistakes herself before handing the papers back to him.

"I guess you'll be really good at teaching transfiguration practicals then, seeing how you've got the experience as an auror." She sat back in her chair, smiling as she folded her hands over her stomach. "I'm sure you can do it and do it well, there's really no reason why you shouldn't or can't. Hopefully the students would be more understanding with your problems than the other aurors here or whoever made fun of you, because you don't deserve to be made fun off like that. Have you thought about how you'd be teaching, or handling a class of mischievous kids bent on wrecking destruction with what you've taught them?"

He nodded.

Yes, he would be good! But as soon as he actually started the job, he'd probably start self-doubting.

“I’ve always been good at Transfiguration.” Becoming an animagus had been a lot of work, but it was worth it. The disguise portion of the auror testing was one he had never failed. There were other portions that he wasn’t too strong in, though.

“As far as how I’ll teach them. I guess I’ll be hands on, y’know? Transfiguration and spellwork in general… Well, you can’t learn it properly if you just read about it, right? You’ve got to practice. Supervised practice is best I suppose. But that’ll be my job now.” Bertie wiggled his eyebrows. “But if they’re bent on destruction and wrecking havoc, I’ve not an idea what I’ll do. Panic? Cry? Get help from a more experienced professor?” When that time came, Adelebert would probably follow his gut instinct, which very rarely failed him.