Mid Afternoon

It was true that Grace Eddy had never spent as much time with Knox Greyfriar as her friend and housemate, Fauna Blake. But the former Gryffindor still very much respected the former Headmaster and he was one her elders capable of causing her to be somewhat awestruck because of how well respected he was and also his abilities and experiences as a wizard. He was someone to look up to and emulate. He was also someone whose opinion mattered, even if it was constructively critical or bordered on meddling.

So even though most of her interaction with great wizard came in the company of Fauna, when one day his voice had boomed an open invitation to visit in her direction, she took it to heart. Did he sense she had something to say or share with him? Surely he, as most teachers did, had this otherworldly gift of sensing younger witches and wizards with troubled thoughts and worries about their chosen life paths. That's what they did, right? And then they bestowed their wisdom accordingly.

But that was not solely the reason Grace went to visit him on this day. Just as the days of taking his History of Magic classes, she liked listening to his stories. She missed his effortless way of guiding understanding of the crazy world around them. She was looking forward to a dose of that.

And he had promised he would cook.

That alone was something to pique her interest. Even only a year out of school, it was still a strange thought to think of professors or former professors doing "normal" things. Did he just whip the food up with spells? Or was he really and truly going to cook something?

Time would only tell. Thus, the Gryffindor alum stepped and knocked on the door to the Greyfriar House and patiently waited for him to greet her.

Sunday afternoon nap.  He hadn't intended to, but he'd always let Sundays do as they wished like a cat or the vining ivy that crept up his small stone house.  A knock at the door leaked into his ear and his eyes fluttered open.  Unaware that he'd been dozing it was a moment before he found his bearings.  A newspaper was still on his lap, his glasses still on his nose.

He blink-blink-blinked, removed his glasses and wiped his face.  Had he heard a knock? He rose up creakily from his old chair and padded to the door in his striped socks.  One look out of the small window and he threw the door open. 

"Grace Eddy by my breath and bones! What are you doing here!"  It was a delighted accusation, and he stepped aside to let her in.  He opened his arms for a hug, but realized he must look dreadful.  The full moon was in a few days and he'd grown shaggy in the beard and weary in the eyes.  But his good mood could not be stifled. 

"Come in, come in, welcome welcome.  Can I get you something to drink?" He hurried across the floor to his hearth and immediately set some water to boil, assuming tea.  If not, he had some orange juice cold in the icebox.  And wine in the cool nook under the stairs.

He stood away and had a good look at her.  She looked so grown.  He saw her from time to time around Level Two, busy at her work.  But to see her in this context, she looked every bit like Grace Eddy, but one who'd grown so much.  He was so proud of the former Gryffindor who'd always been brave and kind, if not a bit stoic.

OOC: I don't fully remember our intention with this, but when I started to read through old threads, this was inspiring. Hope you don't mind the chance to dive into a "pensieve".

Grace smiled as soon as she heard his voice booming her name; there was something comforting in the sound. And though it seemed a bit strange to entertain the thought of hugging him, Grace nevertheless stepped forward and gave him him one anyway. Chuckling, she managed to reply, "You invited me, remember? Did you think that was just something I said to appease you?" She stepped back and looked up at him, taking note of how tired he appeared and yet it only added to his wisened nature.

She followed him inside as requested and when he attended to his hosting duties by asking what she wanted to drink, she quirked a brow, wondering what would be appropriate. Finally shrugging, she managed to eek out, "Whatever you're having, I guess?"

Grace flashed him a sheepish grin and tried to stand taller when she noticed him looking her over, likely doing his teacherly assessment. She hoped he was not disappointed by what he saw. "How have you been?"

I sleuthed! I think this thread is from this plot, which is still underway in AO's background. I'm in!

The space was small, so it got quickly stuffy with two bodies in it. Knox waved his wand and the two windows slide open so the April breeze could move gently through.  The corners of some papers on a side table fluttered. The noises from outside - birds, insects, and rustling leaves - could now be heard.  A very peaceful pastoral space, most of the time.  Although lately, there'd been more than a couple of bloody people in it...

"Oh, not ready for retirement," he said, playing at a common adage for wizards of his age.  He hadn't retired at all, of course. The Wizengamot was not light duty in any respects. There was also the matter of recent guests who had been clinging to life as if by fingers at cliff's edge...!

"Keeping busy, you know. The months just rush by."  It was then, he noticed, that in the clutter of his tiny stone cottage was open his decades old Healers' case.  There were vials and jars sitting beside it, bundles of clean guaze and an open Healing book[1].  He paused in his fastidious preparation of some dried gunpowder tea. Paused probably noticibly long.

Then he shrugged, deciding to leave it.  It would draw more attention to attempt to clean it up. Also, he was a glutton for the defiance of an incriminating mess.

"Will you stay for a spell? I think it's traditional for old men like me to make sure young people like you are well fed whenever we get the chance."

1.	The reference from his night helping Lexus Dale. Mar 27, 2010

Grace naturally was curious about Knox' little cottage, which she had mostly only heard about from Fauna, who spent quite a bit more time with their former professor. Of course, Fauna's descriptions tended to be basic in that there wasn't great attention to detail, probably because she didn't think it was of importance.

It was no matter now for the former Gryffindor, who was already taking in the surroundings and adding to her assessment of the person Knox was. The fluttering of papers from the breeze did catch her attentive eye, which was not lessened by his chatter. And even as he spoke of keeping busy, she also noticed the old Healer's case. Another student would not have paid it any mind. But this was Grace Eddy, the one student who had practically wanted to be a Healer since she had stepped foot into Hogwart's. She knew what it was.

Grace moved to it with more interest and curiosity brimming in her eyes. She did not touch the bag or the supplies themselves, but she did reach out to touch the Healing book pages that were opened. "Hmmm....." she absently hummed as her gaze moved over the words. Then she looked up at Knox and said, "This is an old text." There some surprise in her tone, but then he had been a Professor of History, so she didn't know why she was altogether surprised. Then, she added, "Some of these potions have more effective or faster acting antidotes now."

Immediately, she felt sheepish for saying that. Did it make her sound like she was back in school again, answering questions for house points? Surely Knox had little use for her knowledge that came from her extracurricular interests which included reading contemporary potions and healing books for fun as well as wading into basic medic training.

Moving away from the books and supplies to keep the nerdy, know-it-all temptation from swelling, Grace clasped her hands together in front of her and moved to follow Greyfriar to his kitchen area. "Of course I'll stay," she said agreeably. "Do I look not well fed though? I think I am the only one in Radford House who knows how to cook properly," she joked.

Greyfriar watched as Grace, astute as always, noticed what might be considered out of place.  He smiled to himself as she looked over the open page. The page open to remedies for Distengrating Draft, the potion that Lexus Dale had gotten all over her skin and was eating her up.  He'd used the savory poltice in the book and it had worked well enough but had left the house and patient smelling of onion.  His ears perked up at Grace's observation that there'd been advances since the 1970s...

"Oh? Remarkable."  He held back the urge to ask her for more specifics. He'd have been eager to try and contact the illicit potioneer with a better remedy for her dangerous line of work.

She came over to the tall, worn work surface where Knox had begun to mash chickpeas in a large mortar and pestle. The tea was brewing behind him in the massive hearth.  The work surface was waist high and there were a couple of stools around it.  The sides were pocked with drawers and nooks filled with silverware, herbs, books, and kitchen utensils.  The top was made of deeply grained wood, worn smooth and covered in gentle scratches from decades of use.  Above them was a hanging rack covered in pots and pans and bundles of dried plants.

He had to laugh loudly at Grace being the only cook in the house she shared with her cohorts.  He couldn't imagine the Fayette boys being cooks, and Fauna must only be good for bakery treats.  "You're positively wasting away," he joked.  "You're transparent!"

Of course, his words were far from the truth.  Grace looked strong and healthy, no doubt made so by her dedication to her training.

"Here - since you're the chef, I'll put you to work. Chop some dill." He handed her a knife from the block, and a fluffy bundle of light green herbs. "Not too small."

Knox was preparing falafel, a savory Mediterranean dumpling which he planned to lightly fry and serve with yogurt sauce.  The old bear was a vegetarian and this was among his favorite hearty plates.  As they proceeded with cooking, the tea came ready and Knox chilled it with mint and basil.  No glassware, he served it in clay mugs. Condensation from the cold drink collected on the sides.

"How is Auror Training," he asked at some point.  "I'm positive you're becoming a merciful destroyer of worlds."

Grace didn't know if Knox's response meant that he truly wanted to know more about what she had just said. And again, she did not want to sound overly academic on what should be more of a social visit. Afterall, he had not taught her History of Magic in some years.

As it were, she was happy to assist him in preparing the meal. And his kitchen area and tools did seem to give the feel as though they were working on a project or potion of some kind. She laughed along with him at the thought of Dion and Dax cooking and shared the anecdote, "The ghost of Madame Radford does not like it much when they cook. Even when their meals are successes (and Fauna's are more often than the Fayettes or Brett's), they tend to leave the kitchen a mess. Madame circles around and wrings her hands or clucks her tongue. If she's really agitated, she sometimes makes the appliances revolt right along with her." Grace grinned as she chopped the dill as Knox had instructed. "At least when I cook, you can tell she's much more serene and happy."

She only paused her chopping to sip from the tea that he had prepared and then when he asked about Auror Training. "Well, I don't know about destroyer of worlds just yet," she wryly returned, "But maybe of the stacks of paperwork that gets tossed my way." She gave a nonchalant shrug. "I guess you could say that mostly what I'm doing now is mundane desk work and shadowing of the senior aurors. And that's fine. I think no matter what field recent graduates go into there's a certain amount of this kind of work."

"Ah, yes. Red tape," he smiled with a blithe, faux nostalgia. He had plenty of that to do in his occupation.  It was nearly all reading, writing, filling in forms, researching - the very nightmare of anyone more inclined to a more active profession, but he found it positively thrilling.  "Living the dream," he grinned.

She was right, of course. Young witches and wizards learning their trade had to work their way up. 

"What's the next step for you, then? What comes after all the grunt's work has done it's job? What are you looking forward to?"

Knox was a very skilled hand at how to question young people on their professional and academic careers. He'd been doing it a very long time.  At the same time he always wanted the experience to be as painless as possible to young grads who were very tired of being asked what they were doing after school was over, he did enjoy indulging himself with the third degree.  The trick was to poke until they hit on a topic that the interogatee was keen to talk more about, whatever it was.

Chickpeas mashed, he began chopping other bits. He took the onion for himself and passed along a bright red bell pepper to Grace who was nearly done with the dill.