For the past ten years, Hildegarde had hardly left her cottage in North Yorkshire. It was small, yet endlessly British, boasting a prim thatched roof and a lush and preened garden that was fenced in all around the little home. Gazing out of her kitchen window, Hildegarde sighed; since Bernard had died, she'd spent year upon year writing, reading and studying, producing book after book on classical wizarding history and rejecting invitation upon invitation to Ministry events, publishing balls and dinner parties with old friends. She often wrote the odd letter to Greyfriar and the others, but Hildegarde mostly kept to herself; her countryside home was perfect for her state of perpetual mourning, and even though Hildegarde hadn't shed a tear in years, her misfortune in love and life had hardened the once carefree and kind woman. She was a childless widow, and Hildegarde knew she'd spend the rest of her life as such. Bitter, and forever looking into the past.

Hildegarde took a delicate sip of her tea, sifting through a few letters that were spread over the table. She'd finally decided to take the plunge and leave her life of academic solitude, and she was expecting Archer any moment now to tell him the news. She glanced at a photo of Bernard and herself on a shelf above the wood-burning oven, and vaguely smiled. So many people had told her that Bernard would want Hildegarde to continue her living her life without him, but she couldn't contemplate being alone for the past decade, and she didn't see the point in living if her soulmate was not there to accompany Hildegarde along the way.

Hildegarde flicked her wand casually, the window opening slightly to let in some fresh air; it was a sharp November morning, but the breeze was bearable, and Hildegarde hated a hot and stuffy kitchen. Taking another sip of tea, she began writing a 'to-do' list on a blank piece of parchment, her handwriting brisk but ridiculously neat; appearance and routine meant everything to Hildegarde. Her writing however, was interrupted by a loud yet welcomed knock on the front door, and the aged woman looked up, a rare smile immediately appearing on her face.
And about time too!

Getting to her feet and smoothing down her grey and bland pencil skirt, Hildegarde took a domineering few steps down the tiny corridor and opened the door briskly, knowing exactly who it was.
"Five minutes late my dear," she spoke lightly, that smile still painted on her face. "It looks like the Ministry is hindering your time management skills!" She opened her arms for a hug from one of her few regular visitors; it was always a pleasure having him round.

Putting the last piece of his file back together, Archer sighed.  It had been a long day, and with nothing else to do for the time being, and knowing Ray was going to be in the office for another few hours, he had promised Hilde he would stop by.  She had sent several messages which he finally got back to – feeling awful that he had not been at his flat long enough to actually get them, and Joel was such a bum he did not even bother to have them forwarded to his office, so when he finally came home and got things put together, he promised her he would stop by in the afternoon.  Getting up from his cubicle, he put his file in the special-sealed cabinet that would only open for him, and locked it up. 

He walked to Ray’s office and poked his head in, explaining what was going on, that he would be back and that she wasn’t to leave the office – which was a laughable warning, considering he was fairly sure she did not ever leave the seat until he dragged her out by 9 PM, after that point, it got a little excessive, and both of them needed to get out of there by then.    He was sure he would not be that long, assured her of that, and then walked out of the Auror office, where disappiration was blocked – and into the lobby where he could appropriately get out of the building. 

With a loud snap, something like a whip being cracked, Archer was out of the ministry and then on the stoop of the house he was so familial with over these past years, rapping on the door before looking at his watch.  Just a tad bit late, he was glad when the door was open and he looked down to see the stern but affectionate face of Hilde, poking fun at his punctuality.  Giving her a warm hug, as he had become accustomed to over the years, Archer chuckled and shook his head. 

“If anything, the ministry is making the best use of my time management skills as possible,” he returned with a hint of amusement behind the sincerity of the sentiment.  He learned to be efficient, but sometimes he just got caught up in what he was doing.  It hadn’t really happened like that today, so to speak, but it was the general feeling he usually had about the whole process. 

When he took his cloak off, Archer draped it over the coat rack near the door.  “But I am sorry,” he added with a grin, the kind that was to melt whosever heart he was talking to at the moment, despite the fact, over the years it had picked up a few new features that Archer liked to deny – crow’s feet and forehead creases, clearly, as Archer had witnessed Hilde’s transformation, she had witnessed his.  “And  how are you?”

"Nothing ever changes in that Aurors' Office," Hildegarde grumbled, shutting the door behind Archer. She remembered her days as a consultant; always having to meet deadlines, constant meetings and annoying interruptions from Ministry inspectors. Hildegarde was always lucky in one respect however; she was married to one of the best Aurors the office had ever seen, and her bad temper and short fuse meant that she worked at her own pace. Nobody would be forcing Hilde to do anything she didn't see appropriate: not without being reduced to a weeping infant anyway.

She ushered Archer into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for him as she fussed over the young man; he was one of the very few people to see Hildegarde in her true light. She was, at heart, an old lady that enjoyed the company, and Archer was practically family anyway.
"I'm fine, you know," she muttered, preparing Archer's coffee. He had never been a chap for English tea. "I've just finished my final piece on Ancient Grecian magical healing and healthcare; the temples that still remain today are just, extraordinary. You must visit, really, you must." When talking about classical history, Hildegarde's true passion was invoked; in front of colleagues or strangers, she never showed a fraction of emotion other than harshness and cynicism, but in front of people like Archer, well, they just saw her come alive when history was involved.

"How are you, Archer? Is everything alright at the Ministry?" she asked, peering at him fondly as she continued to prepare a cafetiere of coffee. He was one of her few connections to the real world other than the Daily Prophet; only a handful of people were even allowed within a few miles of Hildegarde's cottage. She didn't like company, nor did she like sympathy, which was what many strangers gave her. Constant statements about how wonderful Bernard was; she didn't need to be told this. She'd known it all along.

Archer laughed at her sentiment, no – nothing ever did change, not that he minded.  The perplexing stability of a day in the office contrasted deeply to the work in the field that was constantly changing and morphing into whatever situation happened to throw itself at them – it was always the same, yet, in some way, different each time.  He would not say he loved his job, that was not something that constituted true passion as deep and pure as love, but he was a dedicated man and had promised to do his best and protect people, it was what he was made for.  So, he did it. 

But, as he walked into the kitchen with her, Archer could not help but grin, watching her fuss about the kitchen. Sometimes, she was in the most wretched moods that he had ever seen, but today she seemed genial and excited to host the man whom she had known for over fifteen years.  Her husband had been his training officer, one of the best (he liked to think he inherited that reputation), and he had been a part of her their lives since the beginning of his professional life.  She was like a second mum, only the one who pushed him, rather than coddled him. 

He enjoyed when she decided she wanted to do things for him though, like making him sit at the table while she prepared his coffee, not a big thing, just a small gesture.  He liked that, but he did not sit down, instead, he walked up to the counter near her and leaned against it, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest while he looked down at her – she was just a hair taller than Tamis, and he smiled at that.  She reminded her of her in many ways, though would probably never tell either woman that. 

The history thing, he was not particularly interested in, but he nodded, knowing it was her passion, and laughed softly.  “Maybe – when the MLE starts granting time off,” that was akin to asserting when hell froze over and the Devil gave out lollipops that made you spit sunshine, “I’ll get a chance to go.  Greece would be a good time,” he smirked with raised eyebrows, “All those nude beaches, you know.”  He pushed because he was a cheeky sort of person and knew it would get a rise out of the woman who was far more concerned with the historical implications of a country than its great spots for women viewing, not that he was particularly concerned with viewing more than one woman at this point.

He was an honest sort of man and felt it was best to only graze in one pasture, so to speak.  He would have no problem doing that with Ray. He had waited long enough, and would savor whatever they had going for them to the best extent he could.  “Everything is going well enough,” he nodded, feeling it was best not to be negative about the state of his cases and things when he was with her – didn’t wish to spoil her good mood, as it were.  He felt like they were rare enough he did not need to ruin something like that.  “I’ve actually been on a protective detail for the past month – so this is the first I’ve had to do anything on my own.” 

He could already smell the coffee and grinned wider.  So much better than that vile nonsense everyone else drank.  Nasty, nasty stuff that tea was.  “It’s picked up quite a bit at the office,” he admitted, with a bit of a smile.  “Maybe you should come back to consult.  I’m working with a new consultant now – bit of a flake, I must say.  But, he knows his runes.”  He shook his head, that was about as detailed as he could get about the whole thing, “It would be good for you to get out of the cottage, you know.” 

As Archer leant against the counter casually, Hildegarde immediately pushed his chair back under the table, accepting his wish to stand. Everything in the cottage had its own little place, and she hated anything that was out of the routine. Everything from the green ceramic pots of tea, coffee and sugar to the shelf of alphabetical cookery books, Hildegarde had placed for a reason; somewhat obsessive, but she believed it was the key to a good home. Even if she did live alone, Hildegarde kept the cottage in a terrifyingly neat order.

Patting her hair delicately as she boiled some water, Hildegarde listened intently to Archer's familiar voice, glad that the silence of her cottage was broken for a change. Despite getting lonely sometimes, Hildegarde never felt like venturing outside of her domain up until recently; what had been the point? It was the same old faces, with the same old stories. Until now, but Hildegarde wanted to delay that news for Archer. As he made some comment about nudist beaches, she lightly tapped his wrists maternally and sighed.
"Oh, Archer, how uncouth," she almost whispered, a matronly grin on her face. He was again one of the few people that could even joke about such things in front of Hildegarde, and she couldn't help but find his humour tirelessly amusing. "That's what's wrong with your generation; too much focus upon carnal desires, and not enough emphasis on the academic." She knew that if Bernard could hear her grumbling now he'd tell her to keep shtum, but Hildegarde just couldn't help taking on the average view of most sixty-odd year old witches. "Greece is a wonderful place, Archer; there's the Acropolis, the Asclepius, mosaics that are over 2000 years old, and you want to gaze at naked husseys on the beach?" She cast him a mockingly disdainful glance, one that surmised Hildegarde's entire cynicism. "I despair."

As Archer continued to talk about the Ministry, she couldn't help but be a little nostalgic; it was hectic, busy work, but Hildegarde had enjoyed it. During the conflict, she'd been a key strategist and was on the Death Eater's hit-list for quite some time; after moving her parents back to Germany, she'd returned to England to fight out the war. There was no way she was going to be afraid of what Lord Voldemort's army could do; fear was the cause of their power, and Hildegarde was intent on restricting their life-force.

Listening to the short tale about the new consultant, Hildegarde pulled a smug grin, taking a seat at the kitchen table and efficiently pouring herself another cup of tea from the floral pot.
"Of course he's a bit of a flake - nobody could fill my shoes, no matter how adept," she said, casting Archer a coy smirk. Hildegarde took a sip of tea and sighed with satisfaction; there was nothing better mid-morning in early Winter. "There's no way I could work in the Ministry now," she grumbled, delicately sliding a steaming mug of coffee over to Archer (just how he preferred it). "Far too much red tape; I'd be the oldest in that office by far, and there's no way I'd be taking orders from a woman nearly half my age. No, I've done all that tactical business." Hildegarde almost shuddered at the thought of not being at the top; she'd been her own boss for the past ten years, setting the pace with countless books and ruling her publishers with an iron fist. Hildegarde Austerlitz was in high-demand, and she was sparing with how much the wizarding world recieved.

Hildegarde cast a downward glance as he mentioned leaving the cottage, taking a deep breath and straightening the sheets of stray parchment on her desk.
"Well, it seems that I will be leaving the cottage rather soon," she said quietly, disguising her mouth's action with another sip of tea. She gazed at Archer for a second, taking another deep breath and giving him an almost bashful smile. "I've taken the position at Hogwarts."

Laughing at her response, Archer got exactly what he wanted.  He purposefully said things that would inspire such a sentiment from the woman, mostly because she must have known he did not really mean it.  He might have talked a big game, but Archer was the kind of man who was upfront and honest.  He didn’t mind seeing a woman’s figure, but he was finding, especially now, he liked a little bit of mystery about the whole thing.  Sometimes the conservative things that Ray wore with just a hint of skin showing were enough to keep him thinking about her all day.  Of course, he assumed it was just the flavor of brand new relationship. 

Well, romantic one anyway.  That’s what made their relationship so odd.  She was his partner, a person he had been working with for thirteen years.  Someone he cared about possibly more than some of his own family members.  She was Tamis Raynor, and he had learned to love her on a different level before even breaching feeling anything more than a deep friendship and respect for the woman, no matter how terribly they fought and made one another miserable at the beginning.  It had all gone toward the final resolution (or at least he hoped was the final resolution).  So, whatever appeal a nude beach might have had for him in the past, he was just talking game at this point in his life.

“You needn’t worry,” he smiled, “I won’t be getting any time off anyway,” he winked with a bright, but still deep and rumbly laugh from the bottom of his chest.  It looked like the coffee was finishing up, quick and strong, just like he liked it and Hilde’s tea was coming to a boil too.  They could sit at the table and discuss, which she started to do before he got a chance to grab a mug and start to pour his coffee.  Listening to her talk about the new consultant, he nodded as he turned, making his way to the chair with a rueful grin. 

His face fell a little when she talked about not coming back – as though it were impossible and then the mention of being the oldest, something Archer felt keenly at times – though, to be fair, he was not the oldest, just… up there with some of the others… (second oldest in the office… he hoped Harcroft didn’t retire any time soon or he would be the old man, instantly turned upon as old school and out of touch).  But, when she mentioned the woman, meaning Tamis, Archer could not help but grin.  “She is not so bad,” Archer pointed out with a lopsided smile, drinking his black coffee. 

“I quite like her, actually,” Archer said, and left the subject at that.  Of course he quite liked her.  That was perhaps the most British part about him, the shut up nature he had about his personal relationships.  He could have told her a thousand times over how glad he was to have her in his life, but someone else?  It boiled down to quite liked and that was as far as he was going to go – unless, of course, he was explaining it to family or something of the like.  He assumed they would need a bit more than that for someone like Ray who grew up with virtually no one around her that was a relative to accept her into the flock. 

Of course, as she started to move things, Archer raised his eyebrows at her, confused when she mentioned she would be leaving.  “If you need anything, Hilde…” he started; only to be caught off guard by a smile that was so humble it actually took him back.  He didn’t know what it could possibly mean until she opened her mouth and Archer smiled quite widely. “That’s bloody fantastic!” he exclaimed, laughing softly, “pardon my language, of course.” 

He had suggested she look at the position after hearing through the grapevine something had opened up and she would be happier surrounded by people – she said she was perfectly fine alone, but Archer did not like the idea.  There was a muggle song if he remembered, no man was an island or something of that sort – whatever it was, it meant people weren’t meant to be alone, and despite the fact he had spent a majority of his life that way, it wasn’t how normal people were supposed to be.  “History of Magic, yes?  When are you going to start? This term or next?”  He could not help it, he was curious and excited for the woman, she deserved a lot more than sitting alone and writing all day – even if the alternative was going to be kids - he could argue though, that consulting for aurors was probably roughly the same.

"Well, maybe all those extra hours will be keeping you out of trouble," Hildegarde sighed, taking another delicate sip of tea and crossing one leg over the other. She was forever cynical and pessimistic, but it was part of her witty charm; the glass was always half empty with Hildegarde, and that's what most close to her admired. She liked to refer to herself as a 'realist' rather than a 'pessimist', and Hildegarde's brutal sarcasm often brought people crashing back down to earth.

As Archer professed his fondness for Tamis Raynor, Hildegarde raised an eyebrow, sitting back a little in her chair. Was he really that keen on the head of the Auror Office? Hildegarde had heard all about her, and they had crossed paths briefly, but why had Archer never formally introduced them?
"You quite like her?" the old woman asked, giving Archer a rather questioning yet playful grin. "Trying to use romance as a promotion in the Auror Office?" Hildegarde's tone was playfully mocking, and she couldn't help but tease him a little. Archer wasn't exactly the wallflower, but his subtle and sly confession took Hildegarde aback.

That’s bloody fantastic!” Archer cried out, and Hildegarde let out a small laugh at her good news. It was Archer who had suggested the move to Hogwarts; she knew that the position would be hers as soon as she contacted Snark, but leaving the cottage was a big move. It was time to go back into the real world, even if it did mean working at the location of such death and destruction. Hildegarde needed to take life by both hands once more; the Ministry was far different these days, but teaching? It was a challenge Hildegarde had yet to take.

"I start as soon as possible, really," Hildegarde said with a shrug. "It's been on my terms to be honest; naturally, Hogwarts jumped at the opportunity of having me on the faculty. It may seem odd that I've chosen to surround myself with pompous, proud little children, but I think a bit of firmness from the old school of tough love will do that generation some good." She was anything but fair, yet Hildegarde was a difficult woman to please; she thought that many teachers were just too soft. In her Gryffindor days, it was stricter and as such, the school cultivated excellence. Some of the delinquents emerging from Hogwarts recently weren't fit to clean her pantry, and Hildegarde wanted to change that.

"I think I'm actually quite looking forward to it, Archer," she said thoughtfully, giving him a brief nod. A quiet moment spilled over the kitchen, birdsong just audible from the open window. Taking a sip of her tea in a second of thought, she warmly smiled and spoke, her voice hushed and a little softer than usual. "Thank you, Archer. For everything."

Shaking his head, Archer had a hard time finding anyone saying he needed to stay out of trouble serious.  He was probably something of a quintessential good guy, he had been told on several occasions, though he liked to think that he had just a tad bit of a bad boy streak.  He kept people on their toes for that reason, even if he was the auror and the man in charge (he liked to act like it anyway), he was still a normal person and he wasn’t always going to want to save the world and be that guy every second of every day. He was realizing how much easier that was to do now, as an adult – he hated to admit it, but as an older adult, at that. 

Naturally though, the conversation moved quickly and Archer’s slight confession had not been lost on the older woman.  He should have known not to say anything, let alone adding that small qualifier in there that made all the difference in the world to someone who was used to taking tiny bits of useless information and making some sort of meaning out of them.  Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his coffee, trying to remain as calm and collected as possible, dismissing her assessment with the wave of his hand. 

“It is a somewhat new development,” he admitted, “but definitely not in the pursuit of a promotion.  I’ve been avoiding that for years.  Who wants to be known as Senior Auror, really?” he grinned lopsidedly.  He had this whole age complex.  Older age generally conveyed a sense of wasting away, he wasn’t a kid anymore, and as he nearly approached leaving the thirties, he was definitely not anticipating the upcoming decades.  Some people aged gracefully, with more benefits than detractors, and so far, for him – that had been true; however, when it started to go downhill again… he didn’t want the title SENIOR marring everything he had worked for. 

It was something he was going to come to terms with at some point – but not right now.  Besides, he had to remember Ray seemed to like it, so he wasn’t losing that edge.  It was something he had to cling to, after all.  It seemed everyone had their things to cling to though, and Hilde was finally starting to loosen the hold on the past to take the future by the horns.  He was truly happy for her, and quite proud that she took his advice and looked into it.  Naturally, there was a deep sense of pride about her, and Archer could not help but laugh a tad, especially when she noted Hogwarts jumped at the chance to have her –something he did not, for a moment, doubt. 

She was a brilliant witch and would provide quite the change of situation for her, which would hopefully keep her busy and out of the state of mourning she seemed to perpetually put herself in.  “Merlin help the children,” he grinned easily, clearly teasing, but nodded despite the fact he did feel a little bit for the children.  But, it made sense.  They needed to toughen up a bit – perhaps that was what happened to Hunter, he wasn’t treated as tough as some of the older kids and it made him soft in the head.  That had to make sense. 

He could not help but be proud and then slightly taken aback when she said thank you.  His eyebrows raised curiously and he shook his head, “You don’t need to thank me for anything,” he was quick to counter.  “You and Bernard helped me out, I am just doing what an old friend would do,” he smiled, thinking that if it had been him in a similar situation, he’d get the same.  “Besides, I knew I needed to inflict some torture on the future – we need some toughened up recruits for the upcoming year, so you need to work fast on the NEWT students,” he laughed – though there was some truth in that. 

He shook his head and sighed, sinking down in the chair a bit with his coffee pressed under his bottom lip before he took another sip.  “Things are starting to get crazy again, and we need students who have some thick skin.”  One student in particular he wished would drop her resume in their office had thin the durability and strength of aged tulle, but she had heart and grit, which were important too.  “Think you can do that for us?”

"Senior Auror would be a very profitable position," Hildegarde advised, that familiar glint of wisdom in her eye that only women of that academic nature possessed. "You should consider it; after all, Tamis Raynor can't stay head of the office forever. Aim high, Archer, and you'll be in a very secure position come forty." Hildegarde was always focused on ambition and success; she measured other people's progress to Bernard's and her own. At the age of twenty one, Hildegarde already had a senior position in the Department of International Cooperation, and by the age of thirty, she'd had seven books published and curated six archaeological excavations. Bernard could have been head of the entire Magical Enforcement department, but he settled as a Senior Auror in a bid to tackle danger on the frontline. He had always been a bold man.

"And whilst I'm on the topic of Tamis Raynor, how long have you had your wicked little eye on the woman?" Hildegarde asked, raising her eyebrows in jest; how long had he been interested in her? "It might do you good to settle down." She couldn't see it happening anytime soon however, Archer was too fun-loving to live out a peaceful existence like Hildegarde. Glancing around her kitchen, Hildegarde knew that she'd miss it, yet for the first time, felt ready to leave.

"Children today don't seem to really understand the sacrifices people made for them, and I think a firm but fair hand will keep the next generation aware, acute and knowledgeable. I intend to inflict a rather tough regime on the little squirts," Hildegarde said, a fraction of glee in her voice. She glanced at Archer once more as he talked about Bernard, giving him another warm smile.

"You're more than just an old friend, Archer, you're practically family," she insisted, taking another sip of tea. "Would you like anything to eat?" Despite being a somewhat difficult ice queen, she still couldn't help but mother Archer a little, constantly querying his welfare and cooking him meals. It gave her something to do at least, and Hildegarde was glad of the company.

Archer had never really considered advancement in the auror office.  He loved his job as it was, didn’t want to be at a desk all day and not doing anything to help anybody except shove their paperwork through.  And raising his eyebrows at Hilde, she seemed to have his future planned out for him, why did he even need to bother?  A sort of lazy smile crawled across his face as he cradled the coffee cup in his hand.  “You could write up that plan for me,” he pointed out amusedly, “and then I might actually follow through with it.”  It wasn’t that he didn’t have ambitions; it was just that they weren’t quite the same as achieving positions. 

He wanted to be a good auror, which he was, and wanted to do his job to the best ability he could.  He didn’t need extra stripes on his uniform for that, nor did he need another title.  He just needed to be himself, and no matter how far he moved up, he always wanted to be doing something meaningful.  His parents wished he would find some meaning in his life outside of the office, but Archer felt like he was a good son, a pretty decent brother (as far as brother’s could treat each other that way), and a pretty good friend – so his personal life wasn’t detrimental or anything.  He just wasn’t striving for greatness in one sense, he was trying to be a great person all around, and he had to find some balance in that. 

Hilde wasn’t the type to see it as compromise though – she was a hard worker and she and Bernard had lists of achievements that Archer couldn’t even imagine.  Maybe he wasn’t as ambitious as either of them, but there were other concerns.  Though not of the type Hilde was now implying.  Settling down?  Oh jeez.  Running a hand through his thick, brown hair, Archer looked at her with an awkward sort of grin, chuckling to cover the horrific embarrassment of all of that talk.  “Honestly? I have no idea when I consciously decided on that one.”  There was no reason to lie to her, “It just sort of… happened, as incredibly lame as that is.” 

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her.  “But, it’s just kind of… touch and go right now.  Lots of things to navigate.  Settling down won’t suit me for a while,” he insisted.  Though, in truth, that while could be in about a year or so, he really didn’t know.  It would come when it did, he couldn’t put a date on it.  That would be foolish, particularly in his line of work.  He just let life come at him – whatever it brought; he would tackle at that point in time.  And if dinner was in his future, well, he wouldn’t say no to that. 

Leaning back, he looked at his watch, trying to decide if he had time, and figured he absolutely would.  Ray would not be stupid enough to leave the office without him and she would inevitably find something to do if she finished what she was doing before.  Nodding, he smiled, “if it wouldn’t be any trouble, you know I don’t turn down food,” he laughed – it was true, most nights when he was studying to pass his qualifiers for the training program and the various examinations along the way, he’d come over – expertly right before dinner, and after a while, there would just be a plate already set up for him.

Maybe, if she made extra, he could surprise Ray.  Nodding, he figured that would be a good idea – they wouldn’t have to rely on Squeak for dinner, or whatever she made could be packaged into lunch for the next day.  “I just hope,” he changed the subject back to her job and the changes she was going to be making – particularly with teaching style and things, “that you don’t break the children,” he teased.  “I couldn’t imagine graduating with an O on the exam but no soul left.” 

"I am merely an advisee," Hildegarde chuckled, leaning back in her chair a little. "Not a life planner." Whilst the old lady had always taken a hands-on approach, she knew that Archer would know better than to expect Hildegarde to run around after him. All through life, she'd shown the youngsters beneath her the best way to perform tasks, but would never do it for them. How on earth were they meant to learn that way? Like Archer, both Fiona and Gabrielle had once suffered under the strict tutelage of Mrs. Austerlitz, and had come out at the top of their field. Hildegarde would be supremely happy if she saw Archer in the top position of the Auror Office, or even better, at the top of the entire department.

Listening to him briefly touch upon the rather delicate topic of Tamis Raynor, Hildegarde sighed in contemplation before putting both palms of her hands flat on the kitchen table.
"Ask her for a drink after work," she calmly suggested, shrugging a little. "It can't hurt, the most tragic thing she could do is reject your advances, and even then, turn the table on her by suggesting that it was a professional invitation, and she would do well not to be so presumptuous. What's the worst that could happen, Archer?" Like always, Hildegarde was relentlessly shrewd, and always knew how to make a situation advantageous for the people involved; it was true, she didn't know Tamis Raynor all that well, but she'd heard that her Napoleon complex matched her own. If Archer was so bold as to invite the woman out on an impromptu date, then Raynor would eventually crack under the spontaneity of it all. That was Hildegarde's old-fashioned take upon the situation anyway.

Archer accepted Hildegarde's offer of food (unsurprisingly) and she obliged with gusto, nodding and muttering "of course, of course" as she got to her feet. Wand in hand, a saucepan had already glided onto the rustic hob, and she rooted around in the pantry for a moment. Flicking her wand in a circular motion, she tottered back out into the kitchen, a bunch of tomatoes, basil and other Mediterranean-looking ingredients scattering themselves on the kitchen surfaces.
"Ratatouille!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with culinary enthusiasm. Grabbing a wooden spoon, she expertly began to create a meal that she knew would keep Archer full for at least a few hours. To be honest, she was always glad to eat with close company.

As she continued to cook, Hildegarde cast him a sly smirk as he commented upon her 'breaking the children'. It was true, those who weren't close to Mrs. Austerlitz thought she was the biggest battleaxe in the Ministry, and she was a real tough cookie, but she always got the best out of people. Even if it meant hammering them on an anvil on a daily basis for at least six years.
"Archer, my dear, souls can eventually be regrown," she said quietly, a casual trace of amusement in her voice. "But qualifications - they're stuck with you forever."

Archer knew he would not get the type of answer that would mean he wouldn’t have to do anything, it wasn’t what he was looking for either.  He was just having a good time, being a bit of a jerk, but in the most lovable way possible.  He knew what he was doing and had a good about… week or so planned for himself, which was really all he allowed himself to do.  He never knew what would happen within the span of seven days, it was a constantly changing mystery, and he didn’t like to go too far with anything.  He had seen whole lives shift in the course of hours, let alone days, having any set idea of what things were going to be like in more than  a day, it seemed crazy to him.

It was the lifestyle he chose to lead and it suited him and those around him (for the most part).  His mum didn’t really appreciate the fact that he could never say for certain if he was coming to any holiday more than about three days before it actually occurred, but things happened in such a short period of time, he didn’t like to make promises he could not keep.  He avoided promises for that reason, they were impractical. 

And whenever she suggested that Archer invite Tamis out for drinks, Archer could not help but chuckle.  He had done that – and most assuredly more than that in the past few weeks.  Though, he did not feel the need to actually divulge the extent of the personal relationship the two had formed.  It was their thing, no one else needed to know what they were doing together, but it was more than just having a drink after work. Sometimes the older generation made him laugh, and he smiled easily.  “I’ll try that, Hilde,” he smiled, figuring it would probably just prove further that Archer was some sort of animal explaining that their first outside of work encounter had been at a firing range.

At the thought of the range, he drifted off a bit, remembering how close they had been and how absolutely innocent the gesture had been and how… absolutely not innocent the feeling of the whole evening had been.  Shifting in his seat, he rubbed the lower half of his face and refocused on the fact that he was getting a meal.  “I know a gesture I think she would appreciate,” he smiled, “maybe some leftovers?” he raised his eyebrows, pushing himself up from the table to stand with her.

He felt like an ingrate when he just sat and watched, though he knew he should not help at all – it was as though any food he touched that did not need to just be heated would instantly turn to shite, so he leaned against a counter that was not being utilized for the purpose and placed his palms on the edge, shaking his head.  “I guess, but being gutted in the supposedly best years of your life?  Hilde, even you can’t be that hard,” he laughed with a teasing grin. 

“I have no doubt you’ll give them their qualifications though.  Maybe you’ll even get a historian in your troupe,” he smirked, “if they can manage to stay away.  Such a dull subject, really,” he examined his fingernails absentmindedly, trying not to look at her and pretend he didn't care about her expression - though, inwardly, he was very interested in seeing how successful he still was at pushing everyone's buttons.

"Leftovers?" Hildegarde remarked, raising an eyebrow as she continued to whittle away a culinary delight. "Using my talents in the kitchen for your own romantic pursuits? You fraud," she joked in her sarcastic tone, shooting him an omniscient look. He seemed to be rather interested in this Tamis Raynor woman, and Hildegarde couldn't help but be quietly curious. She'd obviously heard of her in the circles of the Ministry, but they hadn't been properly introduced.
"You should invite her round, I want to judge," she replied calmly, making no illusions to the fact of Hildegarde being one of the most grouchy and judgemental people on the planet. At her age, there was no point in making any pretences.

Hildegarde instinctively tossed a few more extra ingredients into the pot in order to compensate for Tamis Raynor's meal, giving Archer a coy smile as she did so.
"Tell me about this woman," she ordered, taking out a jar of crystallised salt and generously sprinkling it into the thick red paste. The aroma of tomatoes and peppers was already overpowering, warmly filling the kitchen with that homely smell often associated with Hildegarde's cooking.

However, the smile was wiped off her face immediately as Archer commented upon the History of Magic subject, frowning melodramatically in jest.
"It is only as boring as the person interpreting it, Archer. You'd have done well to listen more at Hogwarts, how can we plan for the future if we do not examine our past?" It was dialogue that she'd spouted all too often in Archer's company, yet every time, she said it with pure conviction and passion; History of Magic had been her career for the majority of a lifetime.

“Well, I tried my talents in the kitchen once,” he grinned, “and I’m lucky she still talks to me, so you don’t have to worry about me stealing the credit or anything – no one would believe me.”  Of course, he was being tongue in cheek.  Archer would never actually subject anyone to his cooking unless it was the use of the oven to heat something up – that was about as talented he got in the kitchen.  If he were really moved to do so, he might try, but for now, he wouldn’t ruin things like that.

It appeared though, that Hilde was fairly interested in Archer’s personal life, and raising his eyebrows, he laughed softly.  “You’re uncharacteristically interested in my personal life,” he pointed out, hoping that it would illicit some sort of explanation for what was on her mind concerning Tamis and why she seemed to care about continuing the conversation on it.  He never really thought her to be that type to pry into one’s life like that, but he guessed maybe it was just the curse of growing older on a woman – she wanted to know everything about everyone. 

So, when she wanted to know everything about Ray, Archer shrugged.  “I’m sure you’ve heard your share,” he laughed, realizing Ray had a rather dubious reputation.  She was said to be an Ice Queen, incapable of feeling and a heavy handed, hard woman who knew what she was doing and did it well.  Some of that was true, but Archer had found that below the calm exterior, there was a lot going on.  She was constantly thinking, analyzing, feeling – it was all under the surface.  Much like the woman in front of him, though they appeared cool, collected, and hard on the outside, inside, they could have soft underbellies. 

“She’s a hard worker,” he started off with, as it was true, a smile slowly creeping on his features, “and has a good sense of humor when it’s teased out of her.  A little thing,” he added, holding his hand several inches below even Hilde’s hairline, “about this high.  But she could probably kick my arse if she really wanted to,” which caused him to laugh – that part was completely true.  He shook his head with amusement and fond recollection, “and petrified of all things muggle.  Puts tape over the light switches in her flat just to avoid accidentally hitting them.”  It was a quirk he had learned over the past few weeks, thought it was absolutely hilarious, though didn’t let her know that.  “I don’t know, she’s a complicated creature.  You’ll have to meet her.”  He nodded, deciding that was the best course of action, and sighed as he took in a deep breath of the smell of food. 

It was going to be delicious, he reasoned, and would have to take all of it – well, excepting what Hilde would eat, so that he could eat it for lunch over a few days too.  “Give that speech on your first day, Hilde,” he grinned as she passionately explained what she thought about history, which, although true, was lost on the man, as Binns had made it a point to lecture more on Goblin wars than anything else while he was in school, though, he supposed with recent events (meaning in the past 100 years) being what they were, the focus would shift with a new professor.  “You might actually hook the class if you do that much.” 

"You're an Auror, it's standard practice that you're all far too busy and concerned with your job to even care about what's put on a plate in front of you," Hildegarde grumbled, her old age beginning to show with her negative and cynical ways. Bernard had been a terrible cook, and Hildegarde, like many aspects of their married life, took the steering wheel. Hildegarde wasn't a particularly bossy woman, yet there was a constant sense of her authoritative demand - she usually only asked people favours once, and they were normally clever enough to oblige. The whole Ministry had been gripped with the tyranny of Hildegarde's short fuse, but she was far too valuable for anybody to even dare intervene.

"Because I rarely hear about it," Hildegarde replied shortly, stirring the pan that had now released a rather tempting aroma - a distinct mixture of tomatoes, fresh vegetables and herbs. "I was beginning to think you were only interested in just male company." Hildegarde grinned to herself, amused by her own joke; she was forever making quips and comments, and although it was slightly underhand, people who knew Hildegarde took them in jest. "I will have to meet her, you're right," she replied, continuing to cook. "And I will judge accordingly."

As Archer gave her advice about what to deliver to her prospective students, she rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a tight-lipped smirk.
"I want to avoid the clichés of those strait-laced Hogwarts professors," she muttered, "and besides, I'd be an utter fool to take advice from you." Another verbal from Austerlitz - Archer must set himself up for her attitude hours before he visited.