"Me, Mrs Lanningham, absconding from duty from my desk downstairs on my last afternoon in the office before Christmas? Scandalous!" Johann exclaimed with a bright grin to Balfour's incredibly efficient secretary, "Here, have another piece of stollen and let's agree you and I never saw each other." He winked, and tapped the side of his nose, wandering the desks of those few who remained toiling over paperwork in Beast Division, a plate of stollen in one hand. Edible, he'd made three before he'd tested it out on Balfour, and since he was still alive and had all his teeth, he'd risked it for public consumption.

There amongst it all was a new face, who he had already seen at a distance the other morning, rushing from the lifts to the fireplaces, running late for an appointment out of the building first thing. Francis had called to him raised a hand, and she'd been there a step beside him. Angus McBoid's daughter - he'd met the bear of a man at Samhain, and he'd been most kind to Camille, Johann's mother on the night.

He'd quite forgotten she was staying with the Peppers over Christmas. What with the run of funerals and working more hours than he should be again, it had fallen down the list of priorities to stop and say hello. Besides, he'd been really late, and didn't fancy inviting Gabrielle to shout at him.

Grasping one of the empty desk chairs behind the desk Moira sat at, he slid over beside her, slipping the plate onto the edge of her desk.
"McBoiiiiid." He greeted in a low voice, sitting back give the teenager a bit of space, but still only a few feet to her left. "I come bearing gifts and, good Merlin, what have they got you doing?" He was up in a flash, leaning over to look at the teetering pile of work. "I'll be having words with Mr Spectre, someone's palmed off their tedious admin on you… hmm, bet I can guess who." He snatched up the top piece from the pile and sat down again, turning so his back was propped against the desk, sat in the opposite direction to Moira to her left.

"It's stollen you know, won't kill you. Or at least not quickly." He told her, his eyes not leaving the paperwork. Then he quite remembered himself and tossed it back in the pile. "Forgive me, Johann Storm, I don't actually work on this floor, they just can't get rid of me." He extended his hand to Moira with a grin.

Five days had passed since Moira's visit with the Peppers had begun, and in those five days she had gotten minimal amounts of sleep. It was nothing against them, they were really quite kind to take her in for the holidays. Staying with them was much better than staying at the castle. The fact was Moira always slept poorly in unfamiliar surroundings.

So, when the chair slid up beside the one she was leaning back in - a low voice calling out her surname - it took her a moment to focus in when she looked at him and his gift of food. He looked familiar. Hadn't Ambrose's father called out a greeting to him? Ah yes, Johann. Now she was beginning to remember and come out of her almost half-sleep state.

Moira's mouth twitched a bit in humor as he looked over the papers from the top of the finished pile. There was just one set of papers left on the other side that still needed to be taken care of.

Taking the offered hand she nodded in acknowledgement. "Moira. Dad's mentioned you in his letters." Picking up a stollen she sat back in her chair, looking over him curiously. This was a nice reprieve from what she had been doing and nearly falling asleep where she sat.

"He said he only made your acquaintance for the one night but you seemed like a nice enough fellow. Suggested you visit with Balfour at some point, though he wants everyone to visit at some point honestly." Taking a bite she chewed thoughtfully, a bit of a twinkle entering her eye as Moira kept her gaze on Johann's expression "Dad also said that you and Balfour made quite the match. Very complimentary."

"Did he now?" Johann replied, eyebrow raised. He folded one leg over the other and left his hands to relax on his upper thigh as he and Moira mutually examined each other politely with their gaze. She didn't recoil at his interest, and nor did he for her. Curious. Teenagers were usually the ones to blush at him, especially teenage girls - he'd been on the Department stand at the Hogwarts career fair two years running to know.

Like her father, Moira had an islands accent, which was gentle on the ear, and certainly more gentle for her feminine tones. It made his English with the slightly more abrupt edge from his German upbringing sound all the more rigid in comparison by his ear.

"Ha! I didn't imagine your father would take such an interest," Johann replied, amused. He folded his arms loosely across his chest, his navy suit jacket unbuttoned over his pale blue shirt. "He thought I was involved with hippogriffs when we first spoke, bless him. I've not so much as bowed to one." He grinned.

"How have you found your week here? Have they had you out this office?" He took a moment to glance around behind him at the others working around them, "Even if I have to agree with my female colleagues that level four offers some good views amongst personnel," he glanced back to Moira to see if she agreed, "they had to let you out, surely?"

"Aye." Moira didn't elaborate and just continued their mutual study of the other. He seemed interesting enough. Further opinion would have to be decided upon later. Maybe when she wasn't quite so sleepy. No doubt her dad would be bothering Balfour, or at least mentioning frequently, about coming by the visit with his 'friend'.

In the past week alone she had heard more gossip at the ministry than she had in her four years at Hogwarts. Perhaps she just drowned the other students voices out more regularly and here at the ministry, being unused to it, she was more hyper aware. Either way, she had heard more than enough to put together with what her dad's letters had told her.

"He's a social animal and he adores the Spectres. He said that Knox sent some people to take care of the horses since he and my uncle are down with Dragon Pox at the moment and you ought to bow to a Hippogriff at least once. Nothing quite like it."

As he went on asking about her time at the office Moira finished the stollen she had been working on. "Honestly I haven't looked. As for letting me out... next week they say. We'll see."

Reaching for yet another she had to add, "I do wonder though... Why is it during the holidays everyone wants to feed people more? Do they want to see everyone fat?" Comment made, and not in the least bit worried about her weight as she worked it off easily enough, she took a bite.

"Christmas week?" Johann asked rhetorically for Moira had ploughed ahead with the conversation and helped herself to another bite. Clearly the stollen was worthy. At this rate he'd just have an empty plate which suited him.
"It's the perception of being charitable," Johann replied with a shrug, though he understood Moira's view of being overfed. "I've never been into cooking, this is my attempt to make an effort, and it's a method to be away from my desk on five," he explained, "the more I am away from it, the less chance people have of giving me last minute things to do."

He glanced down momentarily at Moira. "Besides, you and I don't need to worry, seemingly, we look to both be the sort people try to feed up for good reason." He dropped his folded arms, less defensive and cast a glance over the state of her desk without hiding his curiosity.

"By the way," He added, looking back and lowering his voice. He dipped his head towards Moira. "You're  not the only one with a parent who writes letters." He winked, and sat back again, raising his voice to his usual conversational tone, "I hear you and I have a mutual acquaintance in Mr Schlagenweit?" Johann's gaze did not flinch from Moira, "Does he go well with whiskey?"

"I enjoy cooking, myself. Unfortunately I have a habit of overdoing it because, well. You've seen my dad. He can eat." Well, she could too on some days. At least her appetite had come back after not eating for a couple days here and there due to stress before and during the exams.

"I'm thin because I stay fit, bit necessary. You just look like you don't eat." Apparently her sleep deprivation had loosened her tongue and dropped away a filter or two, and she wasn't apologetic about it. "These," she held up the stollen, "say you probably wouldn't kill anyone with your cooking if you practiced enough.

As for your earlier question about the week... I can't complain too much. The Pepper's were very kind to take me in at my request, or else I would have been stuck at the school when I'm not here at the ministry. At least I finally heard that Alvis is okay." It was a bite later before she thought to clarify, "Ah, Alvis is a friend. Bit complicated."

Johann's shift in position, his lowered voice, and the stare from his eyes was as much of a challenge as any a horse had given her, and she responded the same way she would have with them, even if he did back off at the end. Granted it was with words and not action. Still sitting back in her chair she met his gaze, not shying away. "Not as well as if we had gotten done with the whole bottle. Not offering to replace what was confiscated are you?"

"Noooo," Johann replied with a drawn out vowel, eyebrows lowering and arms folding. "Not the way you two drank it according to my mother. It's not butterbeer, not meant to knock it back like it's water." He shook his head at Moira but muttered, "then again, you'll fit in well on this floor."

Casting a glance over his shoulder at Mrs Lanningham efficiently organising some of level four he ruffled his hair thoughtfully. It wasn't always a positive thing to have a drinking culture in a workplace, or to talk about it with a teenager who wasn't yet of age. The thought of his mother intervening brought out a more responsible colour in him.

"How's it been with the Peppers? They're nice folk, aren't they? Small place though, the house in Biggleswade. You spending Christmas Day with them then?"

Moira considered him, though she wasn't surprised by his answer. "We had our reasons." That was all she was going to say on the matter. If he knew Sasha it was possible he knew why the younger man had decided tobdrink, but she wasn't about to explain herself.

He moved on to another topic after a beat of silence and she nodded in response, "Aye, they are. Kind enough to take me in and not leave me at the school anyway so I'm grateful. I'll be with them until the holiday break ends.

The house isn't that small, it suits them anyway." Much like the McBoid cottage suited them. It wasn't necessarily big either.

Moira was quick to defend the Peppers, or so it appeared. Johann had not phrased his comment as an attack. Between her cheeky comments and now this, Moira was coming across a little nippy and for a moment the shine and mischief of their exchange fell dull.

"I hadn't meant it as a criticism, just that it's cozy what with two teenage boys in a semi-detached house." Johann smiled a little uneasily at Moira, lowering his chin a little, expression sobering. He remembered with a little bump that he was the adult in the conversation.

"I imagine they may move to Wiltshire one day, what with Francis and Gabrielle to be married." He shrugged, not aware if Moira knew much of Gabrielle, though suspected the older witch would have been only too happy to talk at length with Moira if she were at home with Francis. "Still, a far cry from the wilds of Scottish glens, London, Biggleswade."

Moira's head tilted to the side slightly as she studied him and the mood seemed to change a little. Either she was a little grouchy from being so tired, entirely possible, or it was her lack of conversational skills showing again. Maybe it was a little of both.

"I didn't take it as one." She half thought she should explain but she also wasn't sure she'd be able to. Unlike many of the other students she didn't spend her time having idle chit chats with everyone, or even playful mischievous ones like what had just transpired. Moira was aware she should practice more she just didn't want to. Not with random uninteresting people anyway.

"Possibly. I don't know what they're planning home-wise. Personally I think I'll stick to the Highlands but who knows." Barring an accident or a catastrophe like the poisons there were many years ahead and it was impossible to tell what they might have in store for her future.

"Well, if you end up taking up a career with four, you go all sorts of places. Almost as much as you do on five." Johann inhaled deeply, reflecting that he might have wanted to go more places in previous months but legal and health issues aside, he'd managed to fit in a few assignments for the Ministry and plenty for his family and clients.

"What do you want to specialise in? Winged horsed like the family business?" He asked, thinking to Samhain where his mother was quite captivated with Angus McBoid's descriptions of his herd. She's always had a bit of a thing for them, never had the chance to learn to ride them. "It's just been dragons, dragons and more dragons the past few months, but Balfour was telling me about the yeti International Task Force[1] the other day over dinner. They're based out in Tibet permanently to deal with the Clause 73 breaches. Thankless task, apparently they can't study it because it keeps attacking them and the weather's atrocious. See yourself doing that for a living?"

1.	Yeti, HP Wiki

After visiting Germany in the previous summer, Moira could see the appeal in traveling to different places. Watching people - so long as they left her to her own corner or bench -, trying the cuisine, seeing different customs among other things would be quite something. Granted it wouldn't be a tourist vacation if she was working for level four but the same aspect was there none-the-less.

"I am really familiar with winged horses so it would make sense. Helping dad has always been an option but he'd shove me out the door every chance he got." Moira smiled faintly at the thought of his attempts to make her more social. She supposed it was working to a degree.

"I don't think Tibet and Yeti are for me though I wouldn't mind going to visit and see what it's all about. No, first there's something much closer to home I'd like to study first. I'd just need several months available to do so. Very elusive."

"… he'd shove me out the door every chance he got."
"Good man." Johann replied and the realised what that sounded like and flinched. "I mean… uh you know what I meant." He smiled faintly to match Moira's expression, retreating from his interruption to let her go on.

"… Very elusive."

"Newt Scamander definition of elusive, or Quibbler definition?" Johann asked, intrigued by the way she was leading him in to asking. Moira didn't seem to be the sort to go in for the ridiculous magazine, but then again, he didn't seem the sort to read Witch Weekly.

"Do elaborate and accompany me to the teapot." He tilted his head in gesture for her to follow, and jumped to his feet, leaving the plate of stollen crumbs on Moira's assigned desk amongst the paperwork. He wasn't meant to be having cups of tea, but with a new acquaintance, he would at least make her one. Some might call him soft on interns but it wasn't up to them to make all the tea.

As Moira tailed him and explained, Johann busied himself with the hot water and set out two mugs and a china teacup, for if one was making tea, Mrs L must always be remembered. He softly interrupted Moira to consult on whether she was fine with tea before gesturing with a polite dip of his head for her to continue, towering over her, a good nine inch height difference. If she was cheeky again he'd consider resting his elbow on the top of her head.

Moira gave Johann a bit of a look, good natured of course, at his interruption of her being shoved out the door. As he briefly interrupted again she wondered if he made a habit of it but at least it was better than those who did so and stole the entire conversation. Granted she didn't normally converse with anyone like that anyway it was just that listening to such conversations was bad enough. Johann's interjections at least were relevant.

"Newt Scamander and myself, of course. Those... people who write such gossip are hardly trustworthy." Moira stopped herself from saying something a bit ruder. Not all those magazine writers were so bad it was true. Such writings were definitely not of interest to her. She wanted facts.

Rising from her chair to obligingly follow Moira took a moment longer than usual, having stiffened up slightly from sitting in one position for so long while almost half dozing as well. Standing only made her realize yet again how tired she was and for a brief moment her sleepy thoughts drifted to her boyfriend(?). She was supposed to be seeing him in a few days if she understood correctly and it would be nice to see his well-being for herself.

Noticing Johann getting further she snapped back to the current conversation and moved to catch up, continuing as if she hadn't paused. "I'm referring to the Dobhailen. They were hunted almost to extinction for their fur so the clever beasts learned how to hide from those who hunted them. Cat's curiosity means they do sometimes wander near homesteads. It's how I was able to see one once but only for a moment."

Once he was done preparing the tea she accepted her cup with a quiet murmur of thanks, taking a sip and savoring the taste.

"Dobhailen?" Johann repeated, keen ears taking in the way Moira spoke it with her accent so he could mimic. He did not profess to being up to speed on creatures, but what he was told was stored away beneath his curls. "So they're felines? Native to Britain?" He asked, "When were they almost extinct? I confess I don't think I've heard of one before." Something to pick Balfour's brain of if he needed to find a distraction topic of conversation one night.

Moira continued to tail him as they wandered back across the office. Johann slid the teacup and saucer onto the edge of Mrs Lanningham's desk without any great ceremony, glancing back at Moira's verbal explanation as it continued.