Friday, August 3, 2011
1:30pm

Knox stood outside the something-more-than-a cafe in his shirt sleeves. He was chatting with the owner Clementine Davenport, about, of all things, the muggle classic Moby Dick and Melville's satiric classification of cetaceans. She said something that made him laugh loudly. It was a lovely day.

He turned slightly to ash his bluesmoke'd cigar, and that was when he spotted his lunch date - Fauna Blake. Madam Davenport made her excuses and left Knox to greet his protege with an open arm and big smile.

"You look good, you look good!"

Old Professor Greyfriar would probably always see a kind of daughter in Fauna Blake even though he could claim no responsibility in the calibre of witch she'd grown to be.

Fauna had flooed from the Ministry and then walked through Diagon Alley at a quick pace, glancing over her shoulder in case an Auror suddenly appeared and wanted her to run an errand while she was out. They were sneaky, those Aurors. They were fast and silent when they wanted to be, and could sense when a trainee stood from her cube. It didn't help that her chair had a telltale squeak. No matter how many charms she casted on it, someone (she suspected another trainee) unraveled her spellwork the next time she sat.

"I'm going to the loo!" She'd shouted one Monday when a dozen heads had popped up after she'd stood to adjust her calendar. A few decent sorts, like Radley, had sat back down, but there was always one (Pratt) who would smile and say "On your way there, could you...?"

Her steps slowed to a relaxed stroll as she passed the now intact Leaky Cauldron, her spirits lifting to see people bustling around it. The skies were clear, not a dementor was in sight, and she draped her trainee jacket over her arm and breathed in the balmy air.

Fauna heard her old professor's booming laugh a moment or two before she saw him. She caught a whiff of the cigar smoke that reminded her of her grandfather and a few other relatives. She didn't mind - Knox was like family. She'd missed those bear hugs!

"You look well, too!"

They walked in, and the warmth of the cafe matched the warmth outside, with walls tinged a pale red and the rich wood floors creaking in welcome. The chatter of the other customers, the clinking of plates and cups, and most importantly, the smell of life (coffee! sugar!) drew them up to the counter.

"What would you like?" A waiter tilted his head as if to place her. Fauna had come in to Alohomocha a few times before, but not nearly as often as she would like, and when she did come in it was to fetch fancy coffees for a few fancy aurors who were tired of the swill in the communal coffee pot. On those occasions she was in and out of the cafe, hair flouncing in the wind.

"A mocha," she paused to smile. Alohomocha! The waiter waited with a stoic expression. "Uh, with whipcream and micemallows." Her face flushed only slightly. You weren't really an auror until you walked around with a whipcream mustache and a crumb in your hair.

"One of those little sandwiches, and two lemon blossom macaroons please," she pointed to the display and dug around in her pocket for the appropriate number of sickles.

As Knox ordered, Fauna found a table near an arched window and draped her jacket over the back of her seat. She plucked one of the yellow macaroons from the bag with a small white napkin, and placed it on Greyfriar's side of the table.

Fauna took a bite of hers as she waited for her ridiculous coffee.

A crumb fell from her fingers and stuck to one strand of her dark hair.

Knox followed shortly after Fauna, and his luncheon order trailing aloft behind. A handmade clay teapot bounced just behind his shoulder, full with a steaming oolong. A tray bore a giant savory caprese crepe drizzled with balsamic. A bright little cookie waited at his space. The teapot and tray had to shuffle for space on the small, natural wood tabletop.

"Alright," he said. "I'm ready. Tell me everything."

Wait, shouldn't tea order have come with a cup? He turned and looked back to see a cup and saucer hustling over, tardy.  He snagged them out of their levitation and poured himself some tea.

"Did I hear you were on that occamy case in Slandermouth? Some very messy business, that! I could smell the bullpen all the way from my office."

Fauna shuddered, looking into the cup of mocha that had floated over to her. She spooned up a glob whipcream and caught a glimpse of the steaming coffee underneath. All at once it took on a muddy cast.

She set the cup down.

"Don't remind me," she shook her head with a smile. "Our house still smells, because one of us did not cast scourgify enough times and flooed home trailing all the," she paused, her gaze aggrieved. "Mud."

Yes, she would pretend it was mud for as long as she lived.

"His name starts with a 'D' and ends in 'ax'." She was very sure Knox would know which twin she was talking about. At least Dion would never let him live it down.

"It was a nice surprise win for Level Two, though," Fauna continued, taking a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich. "Auror Pinn led the hunt and a small group of trainees tagged along. Which tends to happen often." She was patient, respectful, and capable, and trailed trainees like ducklings. 

"I'd never seen an occamy before, either," her expression brightened with a trace of childlike wonder. "It was on the level of, oh, seeing a dragon for the first time. Beautiful, colorful. Very temperamental," she chuckled.

Fauna finally took a sip of her mocha. Ah, chocolately goodness.

Knox listened rapt and proud. It was easy to imagine the scene at the large shared home of a half-dozen former students, all of them careening forward into adulthood and indepence, all of them in backbreaking apprenticeships. How it could not have been a scene of zoological chaos, Knox could not image.

Why, he himself had lived in a similar situation in the 70s, with his cousins.  Despite everything that had happened then, there were one or two fond memories of nights awake in the back garden, with cigarettes and wine and summer air.

He laughed loudly at the funny bits, and nodded along with his mouth full when he knew exactly what she meant.

"Are they letting you do any real work, yet? Anything on your own? If they haven't, they should! In my day, they were booting Healer trainees from the nest as soon as they could. We were fumbling bone breaks and stitch-ups on the daily until we started to get the knack."

"Wait, are you still seeing that odd young man? The one with the plants? What was his name? I knew him at the Yule Ball."  He was being coy. He knew it was Flynn Hughes because he and Flynn Hughes had lately conspired to quietly appropriate medical supplies for their secret werewolf patch ups...

Fauna laughed, a touch horrified at his description of the Healer trainees fumbling with broken bones, but she still had a bit of a muggle attitude when it came to healing, and the wizarding world hardly blinked at such a mundane injury.

"Sort of," she shrugged. "Most of the work is done in groups or pairs. We all trained on how to fight back the dementors earlier in the year. And we were all involved, in some small way, in that takedown in May. I'm hoping to do more in my last year of training," she humble-bragged with a sparkle in her eye.

When Knox went on to inquire about her love life, Fauna nearly choked on her mocha at the adjective odd. Flynn was odd! That was one of the reasons why she'd liked him. He was goofy, easygoing, and a total sweetheart, and she hoped the next person she dated shared some of those characteristics.

"Flynn? We're not really dating anymore," she smiled, a touch ruefully. "It fizzled out." Fauna waved her hand in the air. "I blame work. It was great, at first, because we'd understand when the other got busy and had to cancel, but it kept things from becoming more serious."

Fauna explained thoughtfully, stirring her mocha until the whipped cream disappeared into the chocolate.  She'd been happy just to know Flynn, to be silly with him, to go on normal dates. He was so very different from Devlin Matthews, and she suspected that difference had drawn her to Flynn for the same reason that Devlin had started dating Maeve.

"My mum's getting remarried. Next spring."

She shook her head in disbelief and gestured to herself with her sandwich. "I'm going to be a bridesmaid! And so it begins." The onslaught of weddings! She heard that she'd never be rid of them going into her twenties. She just hadn't expected one of those weddings to be her mother's.

"What's been new with you? Things well with," she hesitated. "Devlin? And Hannah Bombay, is she still coming around?"

Oh, he didn't want to talk about himself. He just wanted to relax in the hope and excitement of the bright young wix who were going to change the world. That was a word he'd learned from one of the young interns - an excellent way to say 'witches and wizards' without stumbling over the mouthful.

Devlin? Hannah? They were much loved but they always brought with them bristles and bad tidings. That was just the destiny of some. He liked to keep them where they were. Contained. It was easier and easier with Devlin as he was enveloped into the Whitmans. It was harder and harder with Hannah who he wondered would ever be okay.

But he owed Fauna an update.

"Devlin's well and the twins are enormous," he smiled, but the gladness not quite meeting his eyes. He didn't see them often, so when he did their growth was astonishing. "You wouldn't recognize him! I don't know how he got taller, but seems like he's finally grown into himself."  Memories flooded as Knox recalled the short, pudgy Ravenclaw who vexed him all over Hogwarts.

"And, well, Hannah's out of Azkaban."  On it's face, it was a matter-of-fact statement, but he was speaking to law enforcement who had to know getting out was more of a sentence as not. A prison sentence never helped anyone. "She'll bounce back," he said and then buried the end of the thought in deep drink from his cup and a large bite of his sandwich.

Fauna's eyes widened as she remembered the twins. Merlin! It still surprised her. Devlin and Maeve. Devlin, a father. She felt worlds away from the former Ravenclaw. Here she was, throwing polka dot birthday parties with her housemates and dodging Vertigio on Level Two, while he was a besotted family man.

She pushed away a small pang of regret, her smile mirroring Knox's - relieved, but a little sad.

Knox's relationship with his son had been improving last year, Fauna remembered, in the winter before Devlin had been convicted[1].  She imagined Knox, rattling around his house in ratty old slippers, making tea for one. Fauna made a mental note to meet him for lunch more often, and stop by his place with baked goods (made with the help of Akiva, her dear friend who could actually bake).

She blinked. Right. Hannah was out of Azkaban. Fauna gave him a sympathetic look and took a big bite of her own sandwich. She barely knew the witch and could never condone her deal with Ira Almasy, but the circumstances that had driven her to it were incredibly sad. She hoped someone was helping her. Someone other than Knox, perhaps. His bear shoulders were strong, but even the strongest broke under too many troubles.

She twisted her mouth to the side and tried to think of something more pleasant.

"How are you doing? Wizengamot going well?" Despite his werewolf status, Knox Greyfriar remained respected and employed, which was no small miracle.

"Would you mind trying whoever thought team building was a good idea?" She gave him a shy, conspiratorial smile. "There's only so long I can keep hiding the fliers."

1.	And it all came to this

Knox appreciated that Fauna knew when to drop a topic. It was good they'd covered old rough ground, and even better was to let it be. She brought up work. Knox could talk about work for hours! He'd heard it was bad form - in fact, he'd been told many times over his many decades - and he only barely card.

He moved grandly in the small chair, all the better to speak to loudly for the small space. It took him half a beat to understand what Fauna meant by 'team building', but then he remembered! He'd seen them! The jingling and brightly colored notices for mixers, seminars, and workshops - trust and teamwork and collaboration and the always new synergy. 

Knox laughed loudly, "As soon as you find out who's to blame, I'll see they get the full treatment! There is one advantage be being and old man like me, Fauna, and it's that I can say and do just about anything I want."  He was speaking in terms of participating in meetings, but it seemed to carry further afoot, if he was bold enough. He older he got, the easier it was.

"I attended one last week. They lured me with carrot cake and by the time I realized what it was, it was too late. We were wearing name tags and someone was brainstorming! Everyone looked positively captive. I alone had the audacity to begin and carry on my own conversation with Jeffries over a second slice of cake."

"They key is to have no shame, Fauna. And the other key is to be very important."

He paused then leaned closer.

"A third key is to always be kind."  He winked. He had more friends than enemies and it bought him a little leeway wherever he went.

"Lured by carrot cake!" She exclaimed with a shake of her head.

Have no shame. Be important. Fauna raised her eyebrows in amusement. She would have shame and a ridiculous amount of it until the day she died, but hey, she was working on the 'important' part. If she could make it through her last year of training she'd have a spiffy red Auror robe and shiny badge to prove it.

Be kind. She smiled warmly. He was preaching to the choir on that last one, but it never hurt to be reminded.

"Everyone should practice your kindness philosophy. Though if they did, there'd be no more criminals. No aurors."

She paused with a straight face. "No Slytherins. What would we do then?"

They'd frolic holding hands with the bold Gryffindors and brainy Ravenclaws and then fall flat on their faces because no one was cunning enough to realize the carrot cake had been spiked.

Knox's dropped his own expression as well - a moment of silence for a world without scrabbling ladder-climbers, one-uppers, and conniving malcontents.

He made silent eye contact with Fauna for a moment and they both seemed to realize and agree at the same time.

"We'd all be dead, wouldn't we. My poor mother..."

He picked up his sandwich, and shrugged. He had mischief in his eye.

"Back to the drawing board, then. I hear Mysteries is working on something."

His tea drained, his sandwich now just crumbs, and the beautiful yellow maccaron gone, Knox began moving to access his coin. They both had to be getting back. On another day, no one would account for Knox's time at his desk (see key number two) but he suspected that Fauna Blake's minutes were marked. 

"It's a pity our meeting will have to be so ephemeral, but if we repeat it often enough, we'll be classified a haunting."

Knox was always clever with words, and though it took Fauna a moment, she let out a soft giggle-snort and shook her head. Alohomocha wasn't a bad place to haunt, all things considered. She was about to comment on it, when their talk of Hogwarts houses and ghosts reminded her of a whispered conversation she’d overheard in the bowels of the records room.

Fauna cocked her head at him, a smile tugging at her mouth.

"I hear something else is on the drawing board."

She left a tip on the table and stood. As she donned her trainee jacket, she became the confident auror trainee who Knew All the Things!

"Is history going to repeat itself this school year?" Fauna lowered her voice, eyes sparkling at the word 'history'.

"I’m thinking back to my sixth year. The year of bacon-flinging Hufflepuffs, and um...” she paused. She just wasn’t quite as quick as Knox.

“An important, kind, and shameless Headmaster.”

She adjusted her long hair over her collar. Fauna raised her eyebrows in a look so hopeful and earnest, it could only be described as quintessentially Hufflepuffian.

Knox eyes went wide and in a smooth sweep, he wrapped his long arm over Fauna's small shoulders and hustled her out the door.  "Shh shh shh shhh." His other hand hovered over her mouth.

Out on the cobbles of Diagon, he ushered her past a cart and under an awning. "Shh shh shh - hello, Beverly! - shh shh shh!"

Once they were away from any imagined eavesdroppers, Knox turned Fauna around to face him and smiled. Hands gently on her shoulders:

"I don't know what you could possibly be talking about."

Her eyes widened as Knox shushed her and led her out of the cafe. She glimpsed a pair of children across the street, trailing after a harried woman laden with books. One child bunched a roll of parchment in her hand. Fauna laughed a laugh to rival Knox's belly-aching ones.

"I knew it, Knox!" She beamed.

She raised her fists in the air and gave them a little shake. Victory dance! The world was right and good again!

"The students and staff are very fortunate this year. And years? Years," Fauna nodded at him. He was going to make an excellent headmaster once again and she wouldn't let him forget it.

"I won't say any more," she promised, making a Silencio gesture in the air with her finger. She nodded gravely. Ruined it by grinning.

Knox pursed his lips, doing an absolutely shit job of not giving anything away. Whatever was or wasn't going on, he was deeply warmed by it, very looking-forward, and truly honored. Not that anything was going on, but if it were, well, that would be different.

"Because there's nothing to say, yes, I most certainly agree. I look forward to everything continuing on normally, because there have not been any announcements of any kind, don't you! Ah, Fauna Blake, you are a bright young thing and very silly."

He released her shoulders and gave her arm a little pat, and then a little suddenly, a great hug.

Even if he wasn't at liberty to talk about what certainly wasn't going on, Fauna's excitement for him meant a great deal. Knox had had a great many students grow up and move on, but there was something about Fauna and a few others in her year that had made his time at Hogwarts seem worthwhile in a way beyond Job Well Done.