Noon, Diagon Alley. Antiques Boutique.


Balfour, hands in pockets, considered a rather grotesque looking vase in the boutique corner. He was well dressed... brogues polished, jacket scoured, hair combed back. Today was unfortunately not a day spent on the field. The wizard rolled a dry cigarillo between his fingers before leaving it to draw his hand forward- touching the rim of the jade vase.

It shimmered, reverberating with a low wailing sound. A sign below its pedestal read: "Caution: Euphonius Vase, Melancholy. Balfour withdrew, moving over to the shelves lining the shop walls. The wailing stopped instantly.

Rascal had recommended the place. Cam's nephew was eccentric but he was original and original was what he needed right now, in finding mother a gift. The Spectres were in a habit of receiving gifts when their youngest son could not make time to visit.

Something - no someone - bumped into him and Balfour turned, just in time to catch a teapot tipping over from its risky position on a shelf.

"Watch it there," he glanced up with the pot in both hands- only to find himself confronted by a familiar face! "Bertie! Whatever are you doing here?"

Bertie was enjoying his day off, browsing through different shops in hopes of finding new teapots or teacups to place in his home. Although he had gotten plenty as Christmas gifts over the holidays, he was itching for a new one. At least, he thought, this habit wasn’t quite as odd and alienating as his uncle Ianto’s. Ianto insisted of having two of the same bowtie—one for display, and one he could wear. If one of those got destroyed, he went absolutely ballistic.

Antiques stores were a goldmine for Teapots, and Bertie was a regular in this shop. He was so distracted by looking at all the little knickknacks, that he nearly knocked over a teapot—and bumped into a familiar face!

“Oi— It’s alr—“ He blinked a few times before it registered that yes, he did know this person. “Balfour! Dear Balfy!”He exclaimed, throwing his arms around him. “I’m looking for a new teapot!" He released Balfour from his loving grip and glanced down at the teapot in his hands. "And, it seems you've found it for me."

It shouldn't have surprised him that Bertie was shopping for a teapot but still a diverted smile tugged at Balfour's lips.

"This old thing?" he raised a sportive eyebrow, carefully handing the crimson pot over to the younger wizard. "My pleasure, I suppose. Can't say I expected to bump into anyone here at this hour."

As it was the lunch hour, most Ministry employees were out... well, taking their lunch. Aurors tended to have more flexible hours than most; as did division heads. Mrs Lanningham practically had to shoo him out of the office before he forgot to apparate up north altogether this afternoon.

"Rather wish I was shopping for myself." Balfour sighed, hands in pockets again as his fingers found the cigarillo. He was dying for a drag. "I'm, ah, happy to see that they don't have you out chasing felons in the middle of the day."

The comment was made lightly though he wondered, ever since the business with Lemon, about how Bertie's department was taking it. One couldn't go about popping on to the second floor with a curious eye.

Bertie took the pot eagerly away from Balfour, hugging it closely to his chest. “Yes, this is the one.” He had at least 10 other crimson teapots, but none had quite the same shape!

“Can't say I expected to bump into anyone here at this hour."

The auror raised his eyebrows, “What, are you saying people don’t come here on their lunch break?!” He gasped, “Unthinkable!” He cradled the teapot and looked back up at his old family friend.

“Who are you shopping for? Your parents? A girlfriend?” Bertie had always been trying to get Balfour to date his twin, Gertrude, or his cousin, Audrey. It never worked. It seemed, Gertie and Audrey were about as interested as Balfy was—which wasn’t saying much. He nodded at the comment about not chasing felons in the middle of the day. No, lately he was just doing piles of paperwork in the middle of the day and working late. Not that he had a problem with it, but it did get a bit boring from time to time.

He laughed, louder than expected, at Bertie's incredulity.

The severe shopkeeper shot them a glare that only made Balfour's grin widen, though apologetically. Of course Bertie would think that this was a natural place to spend one's leisure time. It was obvious that this was the wrong person to enquire of anything about the second floor.

"Parents-" he seized the word and desperately avoided mention of a girlfriend. "- the elder Mrs Spectre, actually. My old man doesn't care much for this sort of thing." A gesture to the trinkets, antiques surrounding them. Something else for Bertie to gasp at.

His father would rather peruse a well-bound book, something less decorative.

"I'm popping up to Edinburgh to visit later this afternoon." Balfour explained. "Just now browsing for an apology, it's been a while..." his smile was contrite, though not unpleasant. "Family, you understand. How is yours, by the way?"

Ah, parents. Shopping for parents was always difficult for Bertie.  Last Christmas he had bought his father and his partner a gift certificate to a restaurant, and a giant bag of flour for their bakery. He had knit his mother a new sweater and a wand cozy. Balfour wasn’t the crafty sort though.

“I could knit something for them real quick. I also have some wand cozies…”  He pulled out his own wand in all it’s pink, cozified glory. “You think they’d like something like this? Or hats? It’s rather chilly out lately.” Often, handmade or custommade gifts were ones that older mothers enjoyed. His father didn’t care too much for Bertie’s knitted goods, even if his bakery was chock full of inanimate objects that had their own sweaters.

“My family, it’s good. Saw the Peppers during the holidays. Alfie’s doing.. Whatever Alfie does, Gertie’s[1] still single..” He gave Balfour a sly look, “Flynn’s got himself a girlfriend. Fauna Blake, she’s an auror trainee. And his sister, Audrey’s also single… If you ever change your mind. I’m sure Zena[2] wouldn’t mind, eh? You two work together, right? She hasn't thrown fireballs at you yet?”

1.	Alfie is Bertie's younger brother, Flynn's age. Gertie is Bertie's twin sister.
2.	Ruzena Hughes, Flynn's veela mother. Works in Veela-Wizard relations in Balfy's department

Balfour chewed on the inside of his cheek, considering his friend's wand cozy distractedly.

"Oh!" his smile was uncertain, though not unfriendly. "Kind of you. I'm afraid mum's quite the knitter herself." There were at least three extremely embarrassing sweaters in his wardrobe to prove it- each with some manner of dragon pattern. Suffice to say they only saw the light of day once a year.

He glanced away from Bertie as they spoke and ran his gaze along the shelves. There was an assortment of jewellery on the low shelf that caught his eye. Balfour nodded amicably at mention of the Peppers but blushed as Gertie's name was brought up. It seemed as if though everyone he knew was pairing up; like partners in class.

"No fireballs, not yet-" he laughed at the idea: while Zena could have a bit of a temper, it was rarely directed at him. "- I'd rather not give her incentive, at any rate." There was an uncomfortable note in his voice in trying to smooth over that subject.

Why was it all his conversations eventually ran down the same road?

"Not that Gertie isn't good company." Balfour added hastily, keener than ever for the cigarillo in his pocket. "But nevermind me. You must drop by the division when you aren't busy, Bertie. I think Mrs Lanningham[1] would take quite a shine to you."

Perhaps she had a daughter or granddaughter to distract the eccentric Hughes.

1.	Balfour's secretary and avid knitter of socks.

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave it be!” Bertie pouted, “You and I, we’ll just be single forever.” There was only so much pushing and prodding he could do before Balfour got bored, or worse, irritated. “Single forever, old men with knitted sweaters. Alone with our teapots and cozies.”  He sighed dramatically, and then he looked at the jewelry with Balfour.

“Would your mum like this one?” He pointed to a rather ornate looking necklace with a tree branch design and many jewels (real or fake, he could not tell.) Bertie had no idea what sort of jewelry women liked. He found that knitting and buying flowers was perhaps the safest course of action.

“You must drop by the division when you aren't busy, Bertie. I think Mrs Lanningham[1] would take quite a shine to you."

“I’m sure she would.” Bertie hesitated, “Won’t be around the ministry for much longer. Had an interview with the famous Minerva McGonagall on the 22nd.” He then grinned, “My last day at the Ministry is a week for today. You’re looking at the newest Transfigurations professor!” 

Old men with knitted sweaters.

He had a touch of the drama, much like Cam's nephew. Balfour made a mental note never to allow the two men in the same room at the same time; there simply wasn't enough sanity in London to contain them. The wizard followed Bertie's line of direction and examined the necklace from a distance.

"Perhaps she might." Jewellery was a cumbersome thing because they hadn't an idea what mum kept in her box- still he could always risk it. Mothers forgave that sort of thing.

Before he could think about all the other things for which his mother might have to forgive him, Bertie dropped the news. Balfour looked away from the shelves, startled, staring at the other man. Gods!

"In a week?" The surprise showed on his face though he quickly reigned it in to polite astonishment. "I hadn't realized, Zena didn't say anything. Con-- Congratulations, then?" He smiled uncertainly and then remembered something that forced the smile into a laugh. "Marvelous! You'll be teaching Alex!"

Most knew about the young Miss Carstairs. Balfour, like with his nieces and nephews, was inclined to brag about the bright little Ravenclaw.

---

“Yes, in a week!” Bertie was practically beaming, “My Aunt isn’t much for spreading other people’s news when she thinks they should share it themselves.” He had always appreciated that about her. Even if she was totally mad. He loved her all the same, veelaness and all.

“Alex?” He stopped to think for a moment. Alex… Alex… Oh yes! Alexandra Carstairs! His God-daughter or whatever! How could he have forgotten? “OH yes, Alex! I’ll make sure to give her a particularly difficult time, just because you care about her so much.” Bert elbowed Balfour playfully. Obviously, he was joking. He wouldn’t give her a hard time, though he may tease her a bit for being associated with Balfy. “Remind me again what she looks like, so I can harass her. Please. I'll turn into my bird form and follow her around the hallways, singing.”

No, he was much more likely to do that to his poor Pepper cousins.  He was truly looking forward to seeing Ambrose and Zeta. He missed them an awful lot.

Balfour grinned, appearing younger by the measure of mirth in his eyes alone.

The idea of Alex being taught by Zena's nephew was... well. It was something he would need to sit down and write to her about. Fair warning and all that! No doubt about it: Bertie would be a welcome addition to the Hogwarts faculty. It might better suit him even, than Auror service. More time for teapots.

"You'll recognize Alex immediately by her dark hair and overwhelming sarcasm." Balfour laughed once, dryly. "Don't let the older ones bully you, eh? I hear they've been a handful. Gods know we were, at that age."

He referred to the school alumni in general, though it was easy to assume he meant the House of Slytherin.

"What made you, ah-" the wizard clicked his tongue. "- change careers? Level two getting a touch warm lately?" It was unlikely that he would needle a straight answer from Bertie but there wasn't any harm in trying.

Bertie shook his head, “No, it’s not that it was a touch warm—“ He clairifed, “It’s more—I was burned out.” He shrugged. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that was how he had been feeling, “I felt due for a change, y’know? If this professor thing doesn’t work out, I’m sure I can go back to being an auror—I guess it’d mean I just wasn’t meant to teach.” He was someone who was very comfortable with the idea of fate, with the idea that things happened for a reason, and some things just weren’t meant to be.

He grinned, “Ah, of course I won’t let them bully me~ As a teacher, I have power! Boom, detention! Boom, points deducted!” Adelebert paused, “Of course, that doesn’t mean I will do those things every time something goes wrong. Moderation and whatnot, you know.”  He leaned in, “And be sure to let this Miss Alex know just how fierce I am!” Which was… Not very fierce.

A wrinkle appeared in his brow, on learning that Bertie had felt burnt out on Level Two.

But the younger wizard did not seem particularly concerned - his attitude about the whole affair appeared understated and easygoing, so much so that even Balfour didn't dwell on it for too long. C'est la vie, said the French, and they were probably quite right about that.

"They'll deserve every point deducted-" he laughed. "- but better you than McGonagall." It wouldn't surprise him to hear that students still ducked out of her way in the corridors, fearing that tart glare and no-nonsense stare. Gods knew that he oft did.

Some things never changed.

"Certainly, she will be fascinated to hear all about the ferocious Adelebert and his famous teapot collection~" Balfour winked, turning back to the shelves as he picked out a pearl brooch from a higher position. "I do find myself in the Highlands every so often. You must let be buy you a drink at Hogsmeade, once you've tired of teachers and pupils?"

“Ah, that interview with McGonagall! It was terrifying!” Oh, he had barely been bale to compose himself. The entire time, he ahd felt like he was not doing well in the interview. Apparently, he did well enough. He got the job! Either he was the only applicant, the others were worse, or he was a genuinely good candidate for the position
.
He took a look at the brooch that Balfour had in his hand and nodded approvingly. Probably because it was something he would have worn.

“Ah, Balfy. You forget! I don’t drink!” He exclaimed, “But I’ll gladly let you buy me tea and non-alcoholic beverages! Maybe some bar food?” Bertie was not one to alter his state of consciousness, not since his teenage years. And those were long behind him. He much preferred the stability of his own mind sober. Many people were not comfortable with his abstinence—though he often felt that it was because him abstaining made them question their choice to drink. He couldn’t care less what they did, as long as it didn’t hurt others or break any laws.

Bertie's approving nod was as good as any, he reckoned, and decided that it would have to do for mother. Pinned to her scarf or on an evening frock. It was easily imagined.

"Tea, then." Balfour smiled contritely at the reminder of his friend's teetotaling ways- something shared with Cam's nephew. Peculiar, that the two most eccentric men in his acquaintance were often the most abstinent. "I believe that there is a steak and kidney pie with my name on it, round those parts."

The perfect meal after a calling in to see those Dragon Keepers in the field; hearty and hot. Better even than firewhisky or port.

"Ah, but I must be on my way for now," the wizard added with a glance at his watch. "The division hasn't been dreadfully exact lately but it still runs on something resembling a schedule." On those days when they could help it and nobody was being mowed down by either Centaur or Dragon. "And I must have this wrapped of course-" the brooch glimmered sweetly. "- to surprise the old witch."

The precursor to farewell was expressed in a deep, fond voice. He did quite like bumping into Bertie.