Tuesday, September 16
Noon-ish

It was eerily quiet in the Staff Room with the exception being the light tap-tap-tap sound that Myrni Levartian's quill was making on the table top. The hand not holding the quill was propped up and her chin was resting gently in its palm. Her face was tilted ever so slightly upwards and her expression was pensive as she she absently counted each tap. When she got to the number nine, she would pause for a brief moment to glance down at the parchment in front of her. If she didn't scribble anything, she would return to counting her taps.

Presently, there was no one else in the office to watch this little ritual of the new Arithmancy professor, but an audience likely would not have deterred her actions at all. She was no stranger to being seen as strange by others. Another oddity to the casual observer might be the way that Myrni was sitting. She sat as if she were not in a chair, but if she were on the floor, her legs folded neatly like a pretzel. It might shock some of her colleagues (and maybe even her new crop of students) to know that as the school year progressed, Myrni eventually would sit informally like this on her desk during classes, both because it meant she was comfortable in her environment and because she liked the idea of catching others off guard.

No, she was not a traditional professor as many would soon discover if they hadn't already. That was something she was quite comfortable with, even if it lessened her credibility with some folks.

I can live with that, Myrni thought to herself.

Nodding purposefully, her brain had finally started to produce a steady stream of productive ideas for the lesson planning she had been doing. She finally dropped the hand that had been propping up her chin and began to feverishly write, only looking up when the door to the staff room opened and someone else stepped inside. Cutting her gaze from her parchment to the individual, a hint of a smile quirked at the corners of her mouth and she barely audibly murmured, "Good morning....err, afternoon..."

The rest of Isaac's day was slated for research.  His published seemed to be appeased by the thought that while they would not be receiving a manuscript based on field experience, they would be receiving a manuscript by the end of the school year.  It would have to do.  For once it seemed he had been able to make a stand for himself, and he was pleased.

Entering the staff room it took him a moment to realize he was not alone.  The new Arithmancy professor was already inside.  He stood there for a moment, trying to remember her name, but felt himself drawing a blank.  He gave her a smile as he approached the table, setting down the books and parchment he had brought with him.

"Afternoon, I think," he said.  "Today is mostly planning for me, so I find myself unable to keep track of the time either.  I suppose it's an occupational hazard on days like today.  I'm Isaac Fraiser, by the way, I don't think we've been introduced."

Smooth. He thought as he extended a hand to her.  Allowing himself a moment to recover he asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"

Myrni flushed, realizing she had lost track of time, hence her saying morning instead of afternoon to the Muggle Studies professor who entered. She had been in the staff room for much of the morning since most of her classes were on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She actually liked the opportunity to plan out her lessons for the week ahead in one full swoop.

Myrni's hazel eyes quickly glanced over her colleague, not meaning to be rude by staring, as she was naturally curious and also the constant observer of anything and anyone around her.

"Yeah, it is afternoon," she responded sheepishly. Her quill hovered over the parchment in mid sentence and when he introduced himself, she carefully laid it down and reached out to accept his offered hand. They may not have been formally introduced, but she did know who he was. The fact that he taught Muggle Studies was something that naturally created an interest. "Myrni Levartian," she supplied.  After retracting her hand, she used it to indicate to the vacant chairs nearby."So nice to meet you. By all means....it would be great to have some company. I mean, I do like my lesson planning," she said wryly, "But it's nice to have a handy distraction for procrastination purposes...."

Isaac couldn't help but smile when he noted the slight embarrassment at being caught losing track of time.  He felt himself look away for a moment, rearranging his supplies as he began to settle into a seat.  She seemed the curious type, and he notoriously shy...Should make for an interesting afternoon, he thought as he sat.

"But it's nice to have a handy distraction for procrastination purposes...."

He chuckled slightly as he looked down at the parchments on the top of the pile.  Truly he wanted nothing to do with this book.  When the time was right he would know it, and he didn't think the time was right.  Yet, he couldn't keep putting off his publishers.  He had a contract to write a second book, and they wanted it as soon as possible.  Procrastination would only get him so far and he had been dragging his feet for months.

"Indeed," he said.  "How have the classes been treating you so far?"  One of the nice perks of having taught for several years in the same school was that his lessons could be recycled with a bit of tweaking from year to year.  That left most of his planning periods relatively open.

Though she didn't know him personally, Myrni could sense that he was apprehensive about something. She sincerely hoped it wasn't because of her because she hardly felt like she was an intimidating presence. But then she realized what she said could have been an imposition--the suggestion that they procrastinate. Perhaps he was an individual who liked to keep to himself and not be bothered while he was working. Not everyone took their work so lightly.

Not that I do, she hastily corrected herself. I just....oh who am I kidding? I like my work to not feel like work...

She smirked slightly and picked up her quill again, but wasn't in a rush to start writing. "Classes have been going alright," she began with a casual lift of her shoulders. "Rather typical, I suppose. Although that might be because I'm still slightly mysterious to the students." She made a gesture with her index finger and thumb as a means of measurement and scrunched her face up. "I think they're feeling me out as much as I'm figuring them out..."

Myrni's voice trailed off and she pointed to his pile of papers. "What about you? I imagine it's just another routine fall for you, huh?"

Ah those days of being tested by certain students, Isaac didn't miss them in the slightest.  The students at least knew of him before ever setting foot in his class, so now it seemed he rarely had a problem.  He gave a knowing smile as she mentioned still being a bit mysterious as a new teacher...that was always the way it worked.

"The lesson plans are routine, the actually classes themselves rarely are," he said in reply.  "Every new batch of minds brings a fresh perspective on the same old topics and I don't think I could stand it any other way."

That would be the quickest way to either drive him out of the country or straight to a permanent bed at St. Mungo's...neither of those were an option.  So he sought to find intelligent conversations and then would get lost in research.  It was the safe path, and for now it was enough, it would have to be.

"Were you teaching somewhere else before accepting the position here?" he asked, finding himself too a bit curious about his "mysterious" coworker.

Myrni almost wished that she had his advantage of being a veteran professor at the school. There were plenty of  benefits, including familiarity with the students (their strengths and weaknesses) and establishing a routine. But then she also felt that being a new teacher also had its positives, such as have a fresh outlook on the school year and being without any lingering prejudice towards students. Not that that she thought he had any, but in her experience, veteran professors did tend to have their favorites and also those who they disliked from previous years.

More than likely, if she sustained this teaching post beyond the year, she'd have them as well.

Myrni nodded thoughtfully at his comments suggesting that new groups of students  created a new outlook on the topics they taught. "Very true. Your subject must be a wonderful pallet of teaching material, with students coming from all walks of life and having varying amounts of interaction with the Muggle World. I'm sure, if anything, you can get some fascinating discussions....or debates," she grinned and waggled her brows excitedly. Then she mused, "Now I suppose Arithmancy gets a bad reputation for being pretty cut and dry. It tends to be so full of structure and logic that someone without a lot of imagination might be prone to hold tightly to conventions..."

She was rambling. And she stopped when she realized how arrogant that might have sounded, covertly veiling her own modest expertise in teaching her subject. She  flushed and then quickly turned to his inquiry about teaching before. Clearing her throat, she responded, "Yes. I taught in the states at the Salem Witches Institute for several years. That's my aunt's Alma Mater. I taught Lost Languages, Arithmancy....and, the subject you teach."

Noon.  The one break he had in the day of madness was his to enjoy, particularly now that the worst was over.  After his first class with the first years, he had been using an abandoned classroom for their following sessions.  It would be quite a while before he allowed them back into his greenhouse.  Castle classrooms, however, could not be trusted.  Students were always getting into the most obscure of places--He could have sworn he saw a first year crawl out of a mouse hole the other day.  Now Graham was forced to return to his hidey-hole of yore, back in the staffroom.  It was the one oasis of d the castle, and the closest salvation he could find.  

With one fluid motion, he turned the knob and swung the door open, only to catch it half-way through the swing out and push it to close behind him.  While the door usually squeaked for others, it had remained silent, a token to the past that brought a fond remembrance to Graham's typically pessimistic mind.  He unceremoniously marched to the back wall of cabinets only to remove a sheath of dusty budget reports from the counter.  The dust cloud that arose from their thud onto the floor was of modest size.  Which only meant it had been used recently.

"Confound it, Russell," Graham muttered under his breath, still refusing to pay courtesy to any other occupants of the room.  He rapped twice on the wooden counter-top before giving the floor cabinets a stout kick.  A side panel popped out in protest to the violence.  He greedily pulled open the drawer, creating a rustling noise that ended only when he withdrew a musty, half-empty bag of Bott's Beans and a bottle of some unidentifiable brew.  

He glanced back over his shoulder at the pair of new professors before shuffling to stand in front of the drawer, effectively hiding it from view.  More rustling was heard, as well as several clinks of glass, before he slid the drawer shut and closed the panel.  He eyed them once more, as if they might suddenly spring upon his secret and wrench it from him.  Taking the bottle and bag, Graham settled into the corner armchair, a miserable floral pattern that had seen better days.  

After uncorking the bottle, Graham took a swig and emitted that recognizable ahh of a thirst being quenched.  "Long day already, eh?" he asked the lovebirds, as if the previous scene had never occurred.  It seemed Fraiser was already scoping out the fresh meat, and Graham couldn't judge the man too harshly.  Hogwarts certainly had attracted some pleasant women this year.  Graham opened the bag and carefully chose a magenta colored bean.  "Mmm, razzamatazz.  Delicious," he spoke to himself, as if appraising an excellent vintage of wine.

She rambled, something Isaac found amusing.  She was fresh to the Hogwarts staff, and Isaac found it a bit refreshing.  She hadn't witnessed the drama of a change in leadership, nor had to deal with the events of Remember Day.  Isaac had tried to push that memories of the previous year from his mind, telling himself it was the past and that's where it should remain.  He had been about to respond when he heard the door open.

Graham Bombay....Isaac was not the type to dislike anyone really, he gave everyone the benefit of the doubt.   However, after five years of seeing Bombay's moods he was certain dislike would be the term he used.  Part of him wondered if the other man even realized that they had been working together for five years.

He quirked an eyebrow as he watched him fumble around with a cabinet for a moment.  He turned back to Myrni then, waiting for the room's newcomer to settle down before saying anything else.  After all, he wouldn't ignore the other man completely, he had been taught much better then that.

"I'm relatively light on classes today, so I can't say it's been too terribly long," he said.  "Students giving you a rough time, Bombay?"

Myrni turned at the disturbance in the room upon Graham's arrival and her brows curiously shot up as she watched him with intense curiosity. Perhaps the next best thing to having an engaging conversation was the "sport" of people watching. Sure, most of the time, observing Muggles from the vantage point of the wizardry world was always of interest to her, especially now since she had been doing magic for so long. But because of her Muggle roots, Myrni still found it amusing to watch the varying idiosyncrasies of other witches and wizards around her.

Her hazel orbs followed the man's figure as he moved about the back of the staff room. He seemed to be oblivious to Myrni and Isaac sitting there talking. Or, at least, he seemed preoccupied by some other agenda.

What's that saying some Muggles use? she inwardly wondered, her brow furrowing even deeper. Coupla fries short of a Happy Meal? Immediately from there, Myrni's thoughts shot off on a number of other like minded characterizations. Doesn't have all his dots on his dice....Has a leak in the silo....forgot to pay his brain bill....

Of course, she had no idea if what he was doing fit any of them and even when his searching ended and he looked triumphant, she was still a little perplexed by his actions.

Finally, when he addressed the two of them, Myrni averted her gaze to her parchment and began to absently doodle as Isaac struck up the conversation with the newcomer. She nibbled on her bottom lip and listened for a bit. Not taking her eyes from her doodles, she supplied her two cents to the conversation, even if the Herbology professor hadn't asked her specifically. "No classes for me today. Just planning." Sneaking a quick glance at Isaac and then smirking, her eyes cut to Graham's beverage and snack of choice. "Sooo....happy hour already, huh?"

Aileen hadn’t used the Staff Room much since she’d started teaching here. With the complications in the Ancient Runes schedule (which she was convinced Snark did on purpose), the unfortunate meetings with Figaro and other students, and her own obsession with studying the Egyptian artifacts she’d brought home with her, she was lucky if she had regular meals and eight hours of sleep.

Now, finally, the schedule had been fixed. She’d just finished teaching the seventh years at 11:00, and she had the fifth years at 2:00. It wasn’t worth it to pop home during that time, so she figured she might as well stop by the staff room and mingle with her coworkers.

She never knew what she was going to find, really. Opening the door, she expected anything from Gunnar flirting with the oblivious Grimlish, to Gunnar perfecting his Knife DJ dance, or Gunnar and Bombay arguing over potions… hmmm. She sensed a common theme, somewhere.

This time, the staff room was quiet. She smiled briefly at the three people already in the room, catching the last part of Myrni’s sentence. Happy hour? She wished. It was only noon, but apparently Bombay was off to an early start. She wouldn’t be surprised if Demetrius joined him soon. Then again, the professors both had to teach first-years, so she couldn't blame them.

Aileen made a beeline for the teapot to see if there was anything left. She lifted it up- no, too light. Biting back a sigh, she looked over her shoulder at her colleagues.

“Would anyone else like some tea?” she wondered aloud, mostly addressing Isaac and Myrni.

"Students giving you a rough time, Bombay?"

Graham quirked an eyebrow at the question, almost wishing he had never opened his mouth to begin with.  "Hardly," he drawled, always quick to assert himself over the young man.  Him and that schmancy book.  'Oh, this deadline for my second book is so soo stressful'...'I wish I didn't have to spend all my time on book tours'...'Oh this award from Witch Weekly is just so cumbersome! Wah wah wah!' the falsetto voice of Graham's envious conscious prattled on as he contented himself with mocking the young professor within the safety of his mind.  One day Graham would tell Fraiser what he thought of his book, nevermind the fact that Graham was a published author as well.  One day, just...not today.

"No classes for me today. Just planning.  Sooo....happy hour already, huh?"

His dark brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling before descending upon the woman.  "No," he sighed, realizing she was squarely aligned with Fraiser.  What a shame, she would have looked fabulous in his sheets, "It's pomegranate juice infused with rosemary...Merlin's Beard." The door squeaked open, and Graham cringed in anticipation of Gunnar's perkiness. He accepted the inevitable only to find an equally unpleasant but less obnoxious presence within the room.  The Reid witch was called that not for her magical abilities but for her unappealing personality.  The years had done nothing to mellow her, in Graham's opinion.

“Would anyone else like some tea?”

"No," Graham replied, despite his obvious exclusion from the question.  She had barely given him a glance, not that he minded.  "I hope you brought your own cup, most of the china is cracked."  If some of the professors weren't as...rambunctious, perhaps Hogwarts would be able to have and keep nice things.  Hand to mouth, Graham digested another bean, set to go through a good portion of the bag if he continued at his current rate. 

As Myrni nibbled bottom lip, Isaac couldn't help thinking of the Marian would do that.  It was physically the only similarity between the woman sitting in front of him and the best friend he had lost years ago, but it caught him slightly off guard.  He also completely missed Graham's response to his question, not that he cared much what the other man said.

When she looked up at him and smirked, he returned it, trying not to laugh at the question she asked.  He failed slightly, snickering as he leaned back in his chair.  It was only made worse by the response, and he wondered if perhaps Graham should switch to something slightly more potent...it might just improve his sour disposition.

He looked towards the direction of the door when it opened, smile still playing at his lips as he looked over at Aileen as she passed to make some tea.  He fought the urge to roll his eyes at Graham when he responded.  Honestly, was the man even capable of being something other then a grouch?

"Thank you, but no," he said.  "You'll find the cups towards the back of the shelf have seen less use, and are more suitable."  Not that it would take anything other then a simple spell or two to fix all of the available tea cups.  Any first year could do it.

Myrni covertly observed Graham as he responded to Isaac, trying to get a read on his expressions. She thought she sensed some friction there (or maybe it was disdain?) but eventually she gave up trying to pinpoint it. Of course, when he responded to her own comments, it was hard not to take notice of it again, especially the rolling of his eyes. She had meant no ill will when she said what she said. But then again, not everyone had the same humor.

Must remember to check the numerology on him, she mused to herself. To him she made an effort to get back on more positive ground with an approving nod. "Not a bad drink at all..."

She allowed her voice to trail off into an awkward silence and averted her eyes, only glancing up again from her idle scribbles and saw Aileen Reid enter the room. Besides knowing the woman in passing from the time since the term began, Myrni also remembered her slightly from their days as students at Hogwart's. Aileen had been ahead of her two years and in Slytherin, but even in a school with throngs of students, they had managed to cross paths a few times.

Myrni squinted and tried to remember some of their encounters, but for some reason she was drawing a blank. Might have to make a date with the pensieve sometime soon, the dark haired witch thought, cursing her bout with intellectual interruptions at the moment.

But given the present company, it was easy to be distracted. To Aileen, Myrni flashed a genuine smile and watched as the woman set off for the teapot. It must have been left in its state from anyone who had used the room before her because Myrni hadn't touched it since she had arrived to the room. She had settled into her planning and hadn't wanted to stop. But now that Aileen mentioned it, a cup of tea did sound quite nice. But both men declined Aileen's offer and Myrni thought it would be a shame if no one accepted it. Her voice quietly ebbed, "I'll take a cup."

Aileen waited a moment before filling the teapot with fresh water so she could hear their answers. Bombay’s curt response did not surprise her, but at least the other two professors were friendly enough (likely, because they didn’t remember her well from school). Isaac was a few years older than her, she thought, and Myrni was a few years younger. Myrni was a muggleborn and had been in Gryffindor (two strikes against her), but she hadn’t been obnoxious enough to warrant the relentless teasing that Aileen and her friends had doled out to the younger students in school.

Graham, on the other hand, had often been the brunt of her jokes, simply because he’d been so grouchy and easily riled. He hadn’t changed much, it seemed.

Smirking slightly, Aileen reminded herself not to make too many enemies with Snark in power. Grimlish and that awful History of Magic professor, Bumpkin or something, already hated her. She’d at least try to keep up a polite front around Graham, unless he went out of his way to annoy her.

“Better cups towards the back. I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled at Professor Frasier, who seemed fairly mild-mannered from the little she knew of him.

She cast a heating charm on the pot, put in one of the tea bags she’d found in the cabinet above, and brought the pot and two slightly chipped, mismatched cups over to the table. The surface of the table was becoming a bit cluttered, but she managed to find a clear space free of papers and stray Bertie Bott beans. Aileen quirked an eyebrow as she sat down, finally noticing the way Myrni was seated, but didn’t say anything about it.

“I hope you like peppermint,” she smiled politely at the Arithmancy professor, who was new this year, like her. Aileen remembered her as being quiet, but smart. She’d heard that she had worked at the Salem Witches Institute and that Lost Languages had been one of her subjects. That was impressive, at least.

While the tea steeped, she’d have to find some way to amuse herself that didn’t involve wondering why Graham, with all his plant expertise, couldn't trim the caterpillars growing over his eyes.

So Aileen glanced at Professor Levartian again in hopes of finding good conversation. “You taught at the Salem Witches Institute before coming here, didn’t you? Any special reason you wanted to move back?” She asked, genuinely curious. Another pressing question weighed on her mind- who had hired her? Greyfriar or Snark? Aileen strongly felt that all the staff changes had not been a coincidence and the new Headmistress wanted professors who would stand behind her. She just wished she knew why.