"They'll stop yapping, eventually," Anton offered as he tried to shoo the pair of floppy-eared Dachshunds away from the front door.  "Not sure why we bother with a doorbell - they just ... go.  Away! Leave her be!" 

Despite his best hound-herding abilities and despite his mum's attempts to call the pair of dogs into the kitchen for treats, Lavergne and Shirley's excited curiosity could never be curtailed.  Otto, however, was no fool.  Without a glance towards the front door, the spaniel had jumped down from the couch and gone straight to the kitchen to partake in the treats.  It was one of many reasons why they got the annual 'fat dog' lecture from the vet. 

"They'll get bored.  Or, old-age will do them in."  Alas, if they waited for the later, they'd be planning Sasha's 29^th birthday

Under normal circumstances, Anton preferred to gather with friends and companions back up in Cambridge.  There came an age when the play of lads and lasses was best carried out far from the watchful eyes of parents and siblings.  Not that his parents were that bad but every parent eventually gave the are you really mine look when watching their children with peers. 

But, alas, the need for secrecy outweighed the need for no-one-over-40 so Anton had invited Abby over to the heart of the Schäfer family abode. 

"Do we require any secret planning noshes or refreshments?" Anton asked, trying to gently hold one of the Dachshunds back with a foot.  "You're welcome to drop anything you don't want to carry around in the coat closet or on the couch.  Well, maybe not on the couch if it's got anything that smells tasty."   

"Oh my Merlin, they are so adorable. Where did the third go?"

Abby made it totally worse by cooing at the dogs and coddling the dogs and giggling at them and kneeling to their level to give them pets and kisses on the head.

"I have a puppy too!" She confided to the dachshunds. "Yes I do! Her name is Roxie and she's the cutest!"

Roxie wasn't a puppy anymore. Not technically, she was about 5 years old now. But once a puppy, always a puppy. Once a good dog, always a good dog. And all dogs were good dogs.

Abby stood and smiled at Anton, glad she had the day free to hang out and plot. She put her cloak and her purse in the coat closet, and kept her mobile in her pocket, for said plotting. She was in a really good mood today and felt a little like her old self. Abby had birthday plotting to do.

"Ok, Anton," she clapped her hands together. "No distractions! We are going to focus. I'm not going to be distracted by the most adorable of dogs. Nor am I going to be distracted by refreshments, unless you've got good coffee," she raised her eyebrows at him curiously. "And I'm definitely not going to be distracted by -" she gasped. "Is that a pool? That's a pool. A proper pool. Right beside the stairs and across from the coat closet."

Abby leaned over the railing to peer down at the glass floor and the pool underneath.

Her head popped back up. Right! No distractions.

“Otto’s making off like a bandit with the treats mum’s using as bait,” Anton answered, making only a feeble attempt to shoo the two wiggling hot dogs away.  Both dogs and Abby seemed to be enjoying the intrusions, so there was no need to wrangle them in earnest. 

In his best imitation of Dr. Evil, Anton skewed his face into a (very non-serious) scowl and pointed a finger at Shirley.  “She speaks the truth.  Her puppy is the cutest.  Far cuter than you beasts.  Though not as cute as Sir Otto,”  he added, with a quick smirk. 

Everyone had biases.  It was okay. 

“Us?  No distractions?!  Have … Abby.  Have you met us? Come on!  I know Sasha’s not rubbing off on you that much; we need realistic expectations here.”  She might be expressing high expectations but she was already distracted by coffee and basement-pools. 

“Vee are good Germans and Austrians in zis household.  Of course vee have good coffee,” Anton offered with a grin before gesturing to the door behind Abby.  “It is a proper pool – the elevator will take you right down to it.  You can check it out while I get the coffee or we can go down and check it out before getting coffee or … we could be good and studious and not distracted, which sounds so boring.” 

Anton grinned and pointed both arms in various directions, like a scarecrow in a field.

Easily distracted? Her? No, they were on a mission, and she had faith that they would stay - did Anton really just call his dog Sir Otto?

"Do you really call your dog-"

She laughed at his scarecrow pose. Oh if they only had brains! Abby vaguely remembered watching that film - it wasn't a zombie film, but it was a type of musical, and she'd made jokes before about how the wizard with a whole city named after him (Oz) was actually her sister's ex-husband, and he could never ever know because he had a huge ego anyway.

Right! What were they talking about?

"To the kitchen! Henceforth, you may call me Sir Abby, and we will find Sir Otto, and accomplish our quest for coffee, and then continue our tour to the... pool? Or anywhere!"

She suggested happily. Abby would feel weird about exploring his house on her own, even if it was-

"A muggle paradise," she breathed as she stepped into the sleek, modern kitchen, with all of its technological gadgets and doodads cleverly worked into the design.

Should she have said that? Oops! Right in front of Anton's mum too, who was indeed distracting Sir Otto with treats. She was very pretty. Sasha had neglected to inform her just how adorable the dogs were and how lovely Anton's mum seemed. Wow! It was almost as if he'd focused on the need-to-know information and the long, complicated history of Sasha and Anton's friendship.

Priorities, Sasha!

He had, thankfully, told her that Anton's mum was a squib though. That was helpful. That was interesting, actually. She'd almost forgotten in the time it had taken to get to the kitchen.

"Hi, I'm Abby," she smiled brightly, and extended a hand to shake, dodging Sir Otto sniffing at their feet.

"Of course I do!"  Anton insisted, with full enthusiasm as he attempted to both courteously and gracefully lead the way to the kitchen while allowing ladies to go first.  The result was probably more akin to a shimmy best suited to a disco dance floor but, oh well. 

"Sir Otto, meet Sir Abby."  Of course, Sir Abby.  No one was going to ever accuse Anton of being anything but a proponent of women's lib and equality and all that.  "Sir Abby, meet Sir Otto von Wrinklestein of the noble kingdom of Sofaria."  The Clumber Spaniel of note was sprawled out on the floor at mum's feet, his chin resting on the floor but his eyes rolled up as far as they would go to keep careful watch of the pair of dog biscuits that were currently being reserved for a pair of Dachshunds. 

Just in case mum suffered some sort of mini seizure and the biscuits fell to the floor.  Constant vigilance. 

"A muggle paradise.

"It is a bit ... indulgent," murmured, sheepishly, shrugging as Abby surveyed the glistening small appliances scattered across the countertop.  There was no hiding the affluence nor was there really any hiding from the obvious privilege that came with it. 

Unlike Anton, Abby was smart enough to focus on the human introductions before the canine.  With a bemused and patient smile that Anton knew all too well, mum returned Abby's handshake.  "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Abby.  I'm Hanna, Anton's mother." 

As mum greeted Abby, Anton turned his attention to fetching a container of espresso from the pantry and carton of milk from the fridge.   

"I understand you work in law enforcement," he could hear his mother inquiring while he packed espresso into discs and turned the machine on to heat the water.  "That must be exciting, at times."

Abby offered Anton a cheeky grin, understanding that he (like Sasha) could get embarrassed by his affluence and wealth. No worries, Anton! Just wait till she told him about the ridiculous, non-muggle, witchy extravagance of her parent's house.

Anton's mum was cool. Much cooler than Abby's own mother, who introduced herself as Mrs. Reid to all of Abby's friends and acquaintances. Hanna - first name - didn't seem fussed with titles, except she'd earned a major one - Doctor! Abby had so many questions for her.

"It's good to meet you too, Doc Hanna," Abby couldn't help but try out, glancing at Anton to see how he took it as well. She could have been distracted by the wonders of the espresso machine, but she was instead distracted by the lovable Sir Otto von Wrinklestein at her feet.

Abby knelt to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. She pursed her mouth, trying not to smile. Abby didn't consider herself to be working in law enforcement so much as she organized information for those who did. Mainly and especially her boss.

"Exciting is one word for it," she let the dog sniff her empty hand. Sorry, pup! No treats today.

"I am actually the official gatekeeper, Level Two's last bastion of normalcy - don't laugh, Anton - before anyone is allowed in to see the boss, and therefore, I'm armed with memos - auto-flying, of course - and zounds of paperwork, which is more exciting than most people would think."

She straightened, her eyes sparkling. In the grand duel of Paper, Quill, Hex, hexes won every time, but Abby was happy to pretend, and it sounded much better than telling Hanna that not even chocolate could be trusted at the Ministry.

Anton grinned broadly when Abby glanced towards him, trying to convey his utter and complete approval of the new, yet awesome, title of Doc Hanna.  Hanna was, without a shadow of a doubt, cool but she wasn't always the most emotive about her coolness.  His mum had offered a quiet half-grin and a nod which was, for all intent's and purposes, a resounding approval. 

Luckily, thanks to Rudi, Abby was well-acquainted with the Uber-Controlled style of pure Germanic emotions. 

Anton liked to think of he and his father's as the forefront of the fight to change that stereotype. 

"Mum works in the Emergency Room and Critical Care departments," Anton offered as Abby finally got around to greeting the true reigning royal of the Schäfer household.  In true regal fashion, Sir Otto von Wrinklestein had slowly melted over onto his back to offer his new subject full access to a belly needing to be rubbed, complete with a long, tragic groan to convey just how much trouble the poor pup was going through to offer Abby such an honor. 

"So, it's more like ER than Grey's Anatomy.  If ... er ... you've seen either."  Anton added, reminding himself that the wizarding world tragically lacked both TV and, more importantly, the tools with which to binge the boob tube.  "If you haven't, you should.  But, not with my mum - she'll point out every mistake which spoils the whole thing" 

There was a rather pregnant pause following Abby's description of her job, the likely side effect of Hanna Schäfer trying her best to decipher the younger squib's language enough to provide a reasonable and related answer.  Anton couldn't help but wonder if the frequency with which his mum worked with profoundly drunk, drugged or delirious patients was helping her work through a largely incomprehensible sentence. 

"That sounds like a very important element of the department," his mum finally settled on.  "I'm sure they're quite fortunate to have you. I imagine autos flying in a large office building could quite useful" 

Oops. Abby knew what The Pause meant. Whenever she babbled about muggle electronics to her sister, The Pause was the best response that she could hope for, followed by polite confusion.

She blinked at the picture that 'flying autos' painted. Otto the dog looked at her in confusion as well, at a loss as to why she'd abandoned her post on the floor. Anton was the only one who didn't seem confused, but he was busy making coffee.

"I'm sorry," Abby laughed a little, adopting Sasha's favorite apologetic technique. "I work as an assistant," she supplied more directly. "I don't ever go chasing criminals, though if we had a flying automobile, I might."

Abby joked once again, kneeling to give Otto more affectionate tummy rubs.

"I use auto-flying memos? They're charmed to fly right to the recipient, so I don't need magic to send them."

The dog let out an agreeable groan. This muggle household didn't need magic either, no it didn't!

"My boss, whose the head of the department, made some arrangements for me."

Enough about Abby! The emergency room sounded exciting and important. Anton, thankfully, had helped translate earlier. She wasn't really sure which show on the telly she'd seen, but she tried to relate it to what she knew of St. Mungo's.

Abby glanced up with a smile, "So, you're saving lives everyday..."

The muggle way! With medicine.