In the evening, after closing hours. Maiko's stopping by on her way home after work.
April 16, 2010

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She hadn’t expected anybody to be at the museum at this hour, but it seemed like several people were working late. Perhaps there was a staff meeting? Either way, a secretary had let her in at the mention of ‘needing to speak to Archibald Hughes about an important event coming up. ‘ Maiko may have guilted the secretary by slipping in that her letters had gone unanswered, and she was oh so very concerned about it while putting on the most pitiful face.

This would only take a few minutes of his time, Maiko didn’t intend on lingering. Although it was spring break, that didn't mean that personal problems were put on hold for students. Many didn't go home for the holidays-- and so she was still working.

The transfigurations professor had insisted that his brother was coming to Career Day, but she hadn’t heard a confirmation (or a denial) from the brother himself. Bertie had told her that the magi-anthropologist worked late, and that there would be no harm in stopping by on her way home. She lived in London—it wasn’t too out of the way, especially when floo powder and apparition were involved.

The secretary led her to Archibald’s office, with a warning that he was rather ‘surly’. That was perfectly alright. She lived with a surly teenager, she could handle it.

Maiko stood up straight and knocked briskly on the door. The noise it made was louder than expected and she jumped ever so slightly. “Bonjour~!”  She exclaimed, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. In all reality, she was feeling a bit bitter towards this fellow she had never even met. This esteemed magi-anthropologist, ignorer of letters.

The 'Office' that Maiko stormed up to hardly lived up to the name. It was more like a refurbished stor -- actually, no, it was exactly that. An old storage closet that the museum had mostly cleaned out in order to fit in some tables. It was enough room for Archie, who was used to working in cramped spaces, but to those who expected a sterile, open lab were sorely disappointed, and honestly a bit creeped out by it. It couldn't be helped though. Something about piles of broken artifacts (including a forever staring sarcophagus) and skeletons in varied states of completeness (including a shelf entirely lined with skulls) just gave off a horror movie vibe. Add enough drippy candles and old books to make Merlin squeal like a schoolgirl, as well as stale air that smelt vaguely tomb-like, and you had a veritable necromancers workshop. Too bad the man hunched over the table in the middle of the room completely ruined the effect.

Perhaps it was the curly mop of hair that bobbed along to the muggle rock music blaring out of a battered walkman, or the "Nerds do it Better" t-shirt, or maybe the fact that his face couldn't scare a fart out of a kitten, but Archie Hughes did not look like he fit in such morbid surroundings, let alone thrived in them. However, despite this fact, Archie was currently quite content. He had long since entered a 'zone' where all he needed was coffee and an occasional bite of a sandwich sitting nearby to fend off sleep and hunger, and Led Zepplin to fend off thoughts of anything but his work.

This 'work' in question was a femur sitting in front of him, jagged edged and spider-webbed with cracks. Below it laid a pile of bone slivers, waiting to be painstakingly reassembled like some kind of macabre puzzle. Archie was aware that others felt he was being silly by not using magic to recreate the bone, but he preferred to do it by hand. Not only was magic cheating, in his mind, but it was imprecise as well. He didn't just want another leg bone that looked like what all leg bones were excepted to look like, he wanted a leg bone that told a story. Who that person was, what they did every day, how they lived and how they died. It was all there and you would miss it if you didn't take the time to put every piece together by hand.

Which was exactly what Archie was doing when a loud knock at his door shattered his concentration and caused him to drop a tiny bit of bone onto the floor. Letting out a string of cuss words under his breath, Archie tore off his headphones and shouted "Merlin's Bloody Bullocks, Marjorie, I told you not to bother me!" He got down on his hands and knees, searching for the piece, while continuing to rant "I have a bloody Egyptian queen in a thousand bloody pieces that needs some very delicate TLC and I told you last time, I don't care about office tea cup etiquette! If it wasn't supposed to be used by everyone, why did you leave it here?! Now, kindly SOD OFF!"

Right as he said this, his fingers found the sliver lodged in a crack on the floor, almost lost forever to the horrors that lay below the ancient floorboards, and let out a shout of discovery. This was quickly followed by a loud thunk and a cry of pain, when he managed to crack his head on the table in his excitement. Waiting until he carefully placed the shard on the table to rub his head, Archie finally made his way through the labyrinth of boxes, towards the door where the knocker was getting more and more urgent."Alright, alright. I'm bloody well coming!"

Eyes narrowed in pain from the bruise on the back of his head and a crumpled cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, Archie looked every inch a grumpy old man as he flung open the door with a scowl. "Marjorie, you'd better have a damn..." He started to snarl, only to have to look down a foot to see a pretty, petite brunette with almond shaped green eyes staring angrily back up at him. "... good... reason..." his snarl slowly petered out as he begin to realize that it wasn't the assistant bothering him, but this lovely, and apparently very angry, creature before him.

Once it fully dawned on him, he whipped the cigarette out of his mouth and ran his hand through his hair in hopes of smoothing it into some sort of style. "Ehm. You are not Majorie. " He stated flatly and then cursed himself inwardly for his complete lack of smoothness before trying again. "So, um... who are ye?" This wasn't much smoother, especially when he attempted to lean against the doorframe and missed it completely, sending him tumbling into a pile of boxes with a terrifying crash.

A moment, and several grunts and crunches, later, he popped back up and exclaimed with a nervous laugh, "I'm ok! Yaay..." before adding "I'm Archie Hughes, head magi-anthropologist here. What can I help you with... miiiiisss?" He added hopefully.

Her knuckles were beginning to get sore from her continuous knocking— and oh, she knocked right through his little monologue that was directed at poor Marjorie. Maiko assumed that was the name of the woman who had let her in. If that was how he always talked to her, no wonder she thought he was surly. Even when he told her to kindly ‘Sod off’, she kept knocking. Maiko felt a bit of pity for poor Marjorie, having to put up with this type of verbal abuse.

When this Archibald Hughes finally opened the door, Maiko struck put her hands on her hips and stood up on her toes to make herself look larger. It was futile. The man before her was at least a foot taller. What she lacked in height, she made up for in tenacity and attitude.

His shirt—she could’ve sworn that her brother owned the same (or a similar) one. And it was so very muggle, though that wasn't a bad thing by any means. It was simply unexpected on someone who was a part of the wizarding community.

 She shifted her position, crossing her arms over her chest. It was supposed to show that she meant business.

“No. I am not Marjorie.” Maiko replied curtly. “Though I do wonder what that poor woman puts you through to warrant such verbal brutality.” She watched in mild amusement as he rather clumsily fell over—good. He deserved the embarrassment. Mai’s serious expression broke briefly, her lips curling up into a small smile. She forced the stern look back on her face, and continued to stare the magi-anthropologist down.

“I know who you are. Obviously. Or I wouldn’t be here.” She shook her head, her curls bouncing along with the movement. She welcomed herself into the office, though made great care not to bump into anything that looked important. The room was a little eerie, but it was this guy’s job to study the dead. It was her’s to study the living.

Next to his desk, was a box labeled ‘in’. It seemed to be full of letters. “Didn’t your brother tell you I was stopping by? I can see the resemblance.” Except in her mind, Bertie was a much kinder, more polite person. She walked up to the box and began going through the pile of letters. It seemed like she wasn’t the only person he had ignored. Maiko gave him a dark look, daring him to stop her. "I prefer 'Ms.' Not Miss, thankyouverymuch." She so hated titles related to whether or not a person was married.

“You really should—“ She pulled out one letter, “open your letters.” Maiko pulled out a second one, “Especially if, you know.” She pulled out the third letter and turned it around to reveal a Hogwart’s seal. “If it’s from Hogwarts.”  She began to open the letters. “I am Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa. The school counselor. The person who sent you  these—“ She flapped them at him haphazardly.

“No. I am not Marjorie. Though I do wonder what that poor woman puts you through to warrant such verbal brutality.”

She had obviously never spent more than a few minutes with Marjorie. The woman was the bane of Archie's existence. Her obsession with the cleanliness of the office tea cups and 2 zillion pictures of her cats was bad enough, but no one should ever, ever, say 'You must have a case of the mondays' as frequently or with as much obnoxious enthusiasm as that woman did. Perhaps he was a bit harder on her than he should be, but Merlin forbid, if she came at him with a break room cleaning sheet one more time, he'd feed it to her. No, scratch that... he'd feed it to her cats and teach them to vomit it all over hideous jumpers she loved, which he swore she made from her cats shedded fur. There was no way something so ugly came from normal wool.

“I know who you are. Obviously. Or I wouldn’t be here.”

"Oh... and here I thought it was my animal magnetism." Archie quipped sarcastically as she pushed past him and welcomed herself into his office. "Yes you may come in, thank you for asking..." he muttered, shutting the door behind her before turning around to find her going through his 'in box' (which was literally just that, a box with 'in' on it) and talking about his brother and their resemblance. "Um... You do know it's... um... illegal to open someones ma--" He started to object but immediately shut his mouth when she gave him 'the look'. It was the same look his mother and sister gave him when he was about to regret what was coming out of his mouth.

“You really should—open your letters. Especially if, you know. If it’s from Hogwarts. I am Maiko Biladeau-Yukawa. The school counselor. The person who sent you  these—“

Archie took the letters gingerly, muttering "Since when did Hogwarts have counselors?" under his breath. Kids nowadays needed their hands held far too much, Archie decided, though he had to admit that if he had had a counselor as lovely as Ms. Biladeau-Yukawa, he would have wanted his hand held as well. Despite the heavy sarcasm and 'the look' she kept shooting him, Archie was quite enjoying their verbal exchange. Perhaps this was the 'human interaction' that his brother and therapist kept bugging him to engage in.

Archie took his time reading all three letters, just to annoy her more, with a smirk toying at his lips as her tone and handwriting got clearly more agitated with each letter. Even without knowingly doing anything, he had managed to get on her nerves. Damn he was good! "Well... Ms. Counselor..." He said, finally, "I don't know what my brother told you about me..." This had to be Bertie's revenge for the reaming Archie gave him a couple weeks ago. Merlin, he was so dramatic! "But, I'm not exactly good with people. Especially... " he held up his pinched fingers for emphasis "... little people."

He paused here, realizing that that sounded wrong, before adding "Er... I don't mean those little people... I'm fine with the ... um... height impaired..." He said sheepishly, suddenly very aware of how short she was next to him. "I mean kids... teens... whichever, I don't like them... Well... not all kids, I like my own kids, but most kids..." Archie was well aware that he was rambling and made a desperate attempt to stop by suddenly handing her the letters "What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I am a good fit for what you are looking for. I am sure that there are better candidates out there than me."

Although it was easy for Maiko to become angry or frustrated, maintaining that state of mind went against her very nature. Oh,she tried—she did try to stay angry at this tall, grumpy, antagonistic fellow. But it was exhausting. Maiko hung her head in defeat and let out a sigh.Then, she straightened up to face Archie again. This time, less hostile.
 
"Since when did Hogwarts have counselors?"

“I dunno, since half the country was traumatized by the ravages of war?” Maiko muttered,  and waited patiently for Archie to finish reading the letters.  What was three minutes when she’d been waiting, well over a fortnight?
And at least he was giving her a definite answer now, even if his excuses sounded like a load of codswallop.

“I noticed that you’re not good with people.” She quipped, “It doesn’t take a legilimens to figure that out.” Mai squinted her eyes at him as he dug himself into a deeper and deeper hole. This man. This man was like a poorly socialized golden retriever.

Mai crossed her arms over her chest, “You’d be talking to students who are very nearly adults, close to entering the adult world. All you need to do, is talk about your job. It’s professional. And yes, there are better candidates than you, but from what I’ve heard you have a wide range of experiences and education. It’s not that difficult to talk about your job, now is it?”

“You’d be talking to students who are very nearly adults, close to entering the adult world. All you need to do, is talk about your job. It’s professional. And yes, there are better candidates than you, but from what I’ve heard you have a wide range of experiences and education. It’s not that difficult to talk about your job, now is it?”

Archie gasped dramatically when she agreed that he was not the best candidate, as though she had greatly offended him. This was all sarcasm of course, and like all great sarcasm, it contained a hint of truth. It had offended him, just a little, because last time he checked, while he might not be the best example of a son, brother, father, lover or role model, he was a damn good magi-anthropologist. It was one of the few things he actually had some sort of pride in. Not that he was going to tell her that, of course. If he did, she wouldn't give up and while some masochistic part of him was enjoying this little exchange, he had a pile of royal bone shards to reacquaint.

"Actually, it is." He retorted, retreating to his primary defense mechanism, cutting sarcasm. "I don't know what you expect from me, but I am not some debonair wizarding version of Indiana Jones who spends his time exploring vast, ancient tombs filled with priceless artifacts and impossibly complete skeletons." He paused and then corrected himself "Ok... well, I'm not most of the time. 80... no... 90% of the time, I'm in here." He motioned outward at the small office almost disdainfully "... In this impossibly tiny office, filled with pieces of what could be bone or wood or petrified bat shite, hunched over a desk 10 hours a day gluing pieces of dead people together. "

He made his way around his desk and begin to pick up his tools as he spoke "And why do I do it? Because it pays the bills, keeps my kids clothed and fed... and I am weird. I like history, tedious busywork and the dead more than the living." Picking up a pair of goggles, he snapped them into place, the thick lenses magnifying his eyes to ridiculous proportions. "Same can't be said for most people, especially kids right out of Hogwarts. They dream of world travels to exotic locals where they can uncover the next great treasure that will make them a famous household name. They don't dream of dusty broom closet offices, piles of thousands of bone shards and general anonymity. I certainly didn't." Pick up a shard of said bone with a pair of tweezers, he went back to trying to fit it into place, adding offhandedly "Trust me, let me take you to dinner and regale you about my job. I bet you that you will be begging me to stop talking about it before the main course arrives..."

“Instead of imagining Indiana Jones, they should knowwhat they’re getting into when it comes to the careers they’re interested in.” Maiko  insisted, bouncing on her toes  as if it would make her taller, “Let them know about the petrified guano and dusty broom closet offices. I  want them to hear what it’s actually like. If they don’t learn now, they’ll learn the hard way. It’ll be a harsh, rude awakening.” She shook her head.

“Besides. You enjoy it. It’s not as if you’re the only person in the world this job appeals to.” The man looked absolutely ridiculous, the goggles gave him almost cartoonish bug eyes. Mai did have to crack a smile at that, though in a more relaxed situation she would’ve openly laughed.

"Trust me, let me take you to dinner and regale you about my job. I bet you that you will be begging me to stop talking about it before the main course arrives..."

She eyed him carefully, bug eyes and all, “I’m not going to agree to having a meal with you, until you agree to participate at the fair.” Maiko replied, her voice stern and unyielding.  She was the stubborn sort, but there were few situations in which her obduracy shone through. This was one of them.

“I’m not going to agree to having a meal with you, until you agree to participate at the fair.”

Archie's tweezers abruptly paused and his eyelids fluttered comically for a moment as he computed what she just said. The comment had been an afterthought. A joke, even. Somehow, the offhanded jest had not only been taken seriously but turned on its head and being used against him. It would seem that he had a chance to go on a date with the fair and intelligent Miss Biladeau-Yukuwa at the expense of one of his rare free days. This would normally be a difficult decision, since Archie valued his rare free time above silly things like 'social activities', but one look at the lovely lady caused him to reconsider. It wasn't just her beauty. She had a bearing about her, standing there with her arms crossed and head tilted, looking very much like a disapproving matron. A smart, capable and undeniably attractive matron that is.

"Alright then!" He said suddenly, his tone changing quite abruptly to something far more tractable. "It's a date!" He added with a smile as he laid down his tweezers and dug out a small leather notebook from under a pile of paper. Thumbing to a blank page, he licked the tip of his pencil and then peered up at her, his eyes still huge and buggy. "When's a good time for you? Do you enjoy something more foreign or domestic? I'm an steak and potato man meself, but I'm not picky."

“Weekends are best.” Mai said slowly, “And after the job fair.” Foreign or domestic? What did that even mean? Steak and potato type of guy? That meant he liked things simple, right? Mai was rather fond of more elaborate dishes, but food was food, and she had never been a picky eater.

“But I can do any evening, I need to be mindful of time if it’s a school night though.” She was not a morning person, not even a little bit. She never had been, and she never would be. She was the sort of person who needed every minute of sleep they could get, and it was difficult for her to fall asleep before one in the morning though she did try to be in bed by eleven, even if it meant lying in bed restless for a while, or sticking her nose in a book.

“As far as what kind of food?” Mai bit her lip, “Take me to your favorite restaurant. I’m not picky, wherever I go I’m sure I’ll find something I like.”