After dinner


Feliks wondered if it was too late to run away. It was and he probably should not. The young wizard was ascending the stairwell just behind Professor Onuris, with Nicola behind him. After their uncomfortable lunch[1] earlier today, he had delivered both book and card to Sylvain before being informed that they might need to have a word with Headmaster Greyfriar. As in, their werewolf Headmaster. Their Headmaster who was a werewolf. That Headmaster.

Werewolves weren't bad - he knew that - but he knew this was going to be awkward. Feliks played with his bracelet nervously; Sylvain had let him keep it for now, the Tenacious Twine. It was not dangerous: just rare. He glanced over his shoulder at Nicola once they reached the office landing.

She was here because she had tried helping him. First by writing to her uncle Kurby and then by having to explain what had happened with the package. He smiled at her. Feliks felt lucky to have a friend like Nicola Bagnold.

            "Ah, Headmaster." Onuris was addressing the older wizard, causing Feliks to turn right back around. "I brought Mister Spectre and Miss Bagnold, to discuss the matter."

That sounded ominous. 'The matter'. As ominous as anything could in Sylvain's delicate French accent.

1.	17th Nov - Uh Oh Here Comes Troubles

While Cole smiled back at Feliks, a small fleeting smile, she was rather stiff as the pair was escorted to the Headmaster's office. She wasn't used to being in trouble (and there was no mistaking that this was trouble) More often than not she had been the mediator. The one who kept her brothers out of trouble, the one that was able to negotiate with her parents to lessen the sentences they passed down. Would she be able to do the same for Feliks and herself?

As they entered the large space, Nicola made a point of looking directly at Greyfriar. She didn't want to look ashamed or guilty. She was going to stand by everything she had done. She had been helping a friend, despite the lie. It wasn't her fault that some idiot at the Ministry had turned it into something it wasn't. How was she supposed to predict that her Uncle's prejudice towards Werewolves had twisted what was supposed to be an innocent inquiry?

She straightened her back, kept her chin high and her face expressionless, "Good evening Professor."

Things had been busy and in the past twenty-four hours, Knox hadn't had time nor mind to dedicate to the problem of the angry letters[1] or the disappointing discussion with Sylvain Onuris.[2] Only once did the thought cross his mind that it could do with the werewolf hunter Kurby Bagnold, but as his last interaction with the man had been in service it seemed unlikely.[3]

In a similar vein, Knox had not guessed that Sylvain's untrusting insubordination would have wrapped up so quickly. He wouldn't be so stubborn as to not count it as a relief, but he had plenty of grounds to keep the doubt in Onuris where it was.

When the three came through the door, a clue or two connected. The Beast Division - apparent source of the rumor. Balfour Spectre (head of the division) and Kurby Bagnold (his subordinate). Feliks Spectre, Balfour's son, in many ways naive to their world as he'd been naive to the gravity if the world 'mudblood'. Nicola Bagnold, indeed a relation, who was known only a little to Knox but it was enough for him to mark her self-assured nature and unfettered care of others.

"Good evening, Nicola," Knox replied. Then to boy, "and good evening to you as well, Feliks."

He acknowledge the younger professor. "Sylvain."

There were chairs in a more informal sitting area by the fireplace. It was Albus Dumbledore who waved from his portrait above the mantle. Knox gestured.

"Please, sit with me and we can talk," he said with a smile. The two children looked like they were being led to the gallows. There was no telling how Sylvain had prepared them, and so it was more important than ever to do whatever he could to make them feel at ease. Knox sat first in an effort to reduce the effect of his imposing form.

1.	12 - 16 Nov 2011 - And howl, howl, howl
2.	16 Nov 2011 - Sheep in Wolf's Clothing
3.	21 Sept 2011 - See a Man About A Dog

In spite of the tension, Sylvain was feeling proud of himself for having discovered the source of Greyfriar's rumours so quickly. It had puzzled him because Kurby himself had brought up the subject, and had no reason to lie about something as trivial as History homework. Now that the misunderstanding was clear to him, he felt comfortable bringing the two children to the Headmaster - it was after all nobody's fault in particular.

Save for whoever had sent Feliks the package.

"Come," he glanced at the boy, who was hesitating to follow them to the seating area. "Sit." Sylvain guessed it would be inappropriate to jokingly say that Greyfriar wasn't going to bite anybody.

After a jerky nod, Feliks joined them at the fireplace and took the chair closest to Nicola. He was a natural chatterbox, so it was a little strange to see him quiet and watchful instead. Something or other running through his head; was he afraid? Confused? It was not an easy expression interpret.

"It seems, Headmaster," Sylvain began with a lighthearted smile, "that there was a misunderstanding."

Feliks was doing maths in his head as he sat down, all the while carefully observing Professor Greyfriar. The Lycan had supplied him with information like how big and heavy werewolves were on average, based on their human form. There had been a formula scribbled on that page to estimate weight and speed of those bigger or smaller than the given average; someone clever must have written that. Feliks was not bad at numbers in his head. He supposed that their Headmaster, transformed, would be a very large werewolf.

Uncle Sylvain was talking. The young wizard sat straighter and glanced at Nicola to indicate that he was going to talk first. After how bad he had been in the hut, he wanted to prove himself here.

"It is my fault." Feliks spoke up clearly, looking at Greyfriar as directly as he could. "I received a present, professor. One of the older students said it was, um. Dangerous. Nicola offered to help me by writing to her uncle but I did not want her to mention the present because I didn't want anyone to worry."

He glanced at Sylvain, who procured the slim book from his inside jacket pocket. "Oui, borrowied from our very own Restricted Section many years ago," the Creatures teacher added. It didn't feel good to watch him hand it over to the Headmaster. Feliks felt like it belonged to him because someone had sent it to him.

"It came with this," he forced himself to raise his arm, indicating the Tenacious Twine that had been woven into a bracelet. "But Uncle Sylvain says this isn't dangerous."

Cole took the seat offered to her and sat up straight, her feet crossed at the ankles and her hands folded in her lap. Her face was still mostly expressionless. Had it not been for the fact that Greyfriar was also their History of Magic Professor she would have been unnerved that he knew her name.

She briefly glanced to Feliks as he began to talk. She wasn't surprised that he was taking all the blame. He had done so earlier while they were talking with Professor Onuris but she felt she should be sharing at least some of it. A very small some of it though.

Her expression faltered as she winced at Feliks calling the creatures Professor, Uncle Sylvain. She didn't think it was proper, especially not here and now. She couldn't imagine being sat in front of the Headmaster in his own office and calling Professor Prewett Uncle Owen. Then again Feliks was just odd like that.

As he finished she felt obliged to speak up, "Feliks shouldn't hold all the blame Professor. True he was worried about the present and what it may mean but I was the one that offered to write to my uncle and I was the one that suggested we say it was for a school assignment."

She met Greyfriar's eyes, her composure regained and her face Stoney, "for what it's worth Professor, I felt you'd be more sympathetic to Feliks' situation than Professor Storm would have been."

"It seems, Headmaster," Sylvain began with a lighthearted smile, "that there was a misunderstanding."

Greyfriar kept a glare to himself for the benefit of the children; the conflict between the two faculty members wasn't something he wanted to concern them with. But 'misunderstanding.' That was the word Greyfriar had used the other day and it had done nothing to convince Sylvain to heed his orders.[1] Was irritating to hear it reflected back at him. Instead, Knox focused on the students and offered an encouraging smile.

He'd not yet become re-accustomed to the anxiety of students when they came to his tower - both of them looked so tense. How worrying. Feliks spoke with some firmness, that tiny touch of defiance coming through stronger than any contrition. Nicola's own contribution would contain the same stoniness, the same preemptive defensiveness but amplified. She was Kurby Bagnold's niece and it showed.

Knox took the book and realized he recognized it. A seedy, out-dated little tome, likely once an authority on the topic. He opened the front cover and indeed saw that it was property of Hogwarts Library. He set it down after a moment, predicting it may very well get 'lost' before it could be returned to the shelves.

The bracelet Feliks showed off was clearly silver by both appearance and context and its connection with the book was troubling. Nicola spoke after Sylvain, and there it was. The misunderstanding. The curiosity and naivete of children, perhaps colored by the biases of their upbringing, had been lacking in any maliciousness.

Again, it was very much as Knox had initially suspected and which Knox could have handled without Sylvain's mistrusting intervention. He'd have to put away that resentment, disturbing as it was.

After a pause to allow any further thoughts from the students, the Headmaster leaned forward, elbows on his knees. With earnestness and sincerity he said, "there's no blame to place. It seems to me you did your best in a strange situation and I can't imagine you'd have predicted the fallout. I appreciate very much your willingness to speak with me about it."

Albeit late.

"The fallout, I should say, is nothing that can't be repaired and has more to do with the prejudices in others' hearts than your honest attempts to understand this parcel. The condition of werewolves and their place in the world makes for quickly traveling word. It pays to be discerning."

He continued because he was a man of much breath.

"Tell me, have you any inclination of who might send you such a gift?" He asked Feliks - he said the package was delivered to him.

1.	16 Nov 2011 - Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

            ".. you'd be more sympathetic to Feliks' situation than Professor Storm would have been."

Feliks stared at Nicola, his mouth slightly open, impressed by how decisively she spoke her opinion to the Headmaster. He shut his mouth and remembered himself when Greyfriar started talking. The werewolf did not look or sound like he was angry with them - Uncle Sylvain had been right about that - but even Feliks could tell that he was choosing his words carefully. It was very different from when Papa said things, flinging words around nicely and carelessly.

He did not think they were being told off, although it sounded like one of the professor's lectures. It paid to be discerning... yes but what about? Feliks thought he had been very careful and discerning when he chose not to tell everyone about the package. He looked at Nicola, expression no longer worried.

It was more like the face he wore in lessons; a little bored, a little interested, mostly thoughtful. He felt the headmaster looking at him. "Tell me, have you any inclination of who might send you such a gift?"

"Um," Feliks forced himself to look back at the man, more relaxed now. "Niet. Not my papa or Johann or my family. When I received the package... one of the older girls thought it was maybe a joke? Someone maybe sent it to make fun of me, because of my mama?"

He tilted his head to the side, a mannerism he'd quickly picked up from Johann. "Because my mama she hunted werewolves I think. It was Almasy tradition, they say, but not anymore."

Feliks could not remember if that had been in the Witch Weekly. He did remember, when his papa had shown him his mother's article[1], that she was part of for something called a werewolf ring.

And for good measure, Feliks smiled shyly at Greyfriar. "I am sorry to have caused you trouble, professor."

1.	1st May - A Deadly Double Life

Cole watched the Professor carefully and intently as he spoke to them. Though it appeared that he was not angry with them for the small deception on their part, it was clear to her that there was something underneath. Something he didn't want to share with them. She recognized the behaviour as something her mother was rather adept at. Cole instantly associated it with a PR tactic.

She thought on what he had said about other people's prejudices and felt her face flush. Part of her felt as though she should have known her uncle would have reacted as such. One doesn't simply join the Werewolf Capture Unit without some sort of axe to grind. She felt uneasy again. Perhaps a letter to her father was in order this time, ask him about how far Kurby would take this. Then again that would mean she's have to admit what she had done to her parents. She wasn't sure she was ready for that.

She suddenly became aware of Feliks looking at her and exchanged his own bored but interested look with one of slight surprise. Had she completely zoned out? She doubled her effort to pay attention but didn't entirely like what she had heard.

"Your family hunts werewolves?" She looked at Feliks as if she was seeing him for the first time and a bubble of mixed emotions rose in her stomach. She was still undecided on the whole 'werewolf thing'. Professor Greyfriar seemed perfectly well adjusted but then Uncle Kevin was a complete mess. She supposed they were no different than any other witch or wizard but she also felt her Uncle Kurby's job was necessary. Wherever she ended up landing on the topic, she categorically did not like the idea of hunting.

Feliks's mother. Ira Almasy. Slain, but the blinding glare of her evil left spots in their vision. They wouldn't fade soon, Knox knew. Never, for some.

"It's alright, Mr. Spectre," the headmaster assured him after he apologized. "You've done the right thing telling me the truth. It's much appreciated."

While Feliks had been as forthright as Knox could have hoped, but Nicola was more stoppered up. Even now, her comment was directed at Feliks.

"Ah," Greyfriar hesitated, for a moment unsure if he should intervene. There were none in the room better suited to speak on Feliks's own experiences with his family, but this might not be the time to turn that lamp. "Miss Bagnold ..."

            "Your family hunts werewolves?"

Feliks felt the look his housemate was giving him, and glanced at her uncomfortably. Did he say too much? He was always saying something wrong, like about the muggleborns in History lessons. Even the Headmaster seemed awkward about it. Uncle Sylvain caught his eye before quickly addressing Nicola: "His mother's family," he corrected her, gentle.

Mother's. Not the Spectres. The Spectres would never do that to anyone.

"They used to, da." Feliks repeated, forcing himself to look at the witch directly. "But I do not know anything else about it," he lied and shrugged. "Only stories. It is not important."

Or he did not want it to be important. The stories he heard, the things that happened growing up. Feliks did not want any of it to be important. He wanted it all to stay in the past and in that cottage, untouchable. This was his life now. Hogwarts and magic and real friends.

"Can we go now please?" he looked up at Greyfriar, hopeful.

Onuris assisted Feliks and Feliks drew a boundary. Good for him. It was a useful skill to know who to let in and when - Knox had become well practiced. An uncomfortable past had a way of doing that. That, and the desire to be a new man.

When Feliks asked to leave, Knox paused only a moment. There was a worry in his gut that Feliks wasn't safe and that now Nicola was wrapped up in it. Who was lurking in the shadow of Hogwarts to hamper their progress towards peace and prosperity, towards acceptance and fellowship with the werewolves amongst them? Who thought that a found boy like Feliks was a useful target for sabotage? It was a singular sort of person, surely. There was no reason to keep them. They were both surrounded by vigilant proctectors.

Knox nodded his head with a small smile.

"Yes, Mr. Spectre. You've both been so helpful. I do ask that if anything like this happens again - to either of you - please come to me. We all three have a duty to look out for each other, yes? Alright."

The Headmaster lifted a hand of release and got to his feet.