He moved purposely through the halls of Hogwarts with a set jaw and a deliberate stride.  The Hitwizards who had been on duty at the Entrance Hall had, after taking an extraordinarily long time to check his credentials (he still petulantly blamed Fox for that), had warned him to keep his Ministry identification visible at all times.  Kurby had responded with a word that was probably inappropriate for the current school environment, temporarily complied with their demands, and then shoved his identity card back into his pocket before even leaving their sight.  If the Level Two gits really wanted to drag him in over something so ridiculous, he'd take his protest all the way to Raynor again.

Arithmancy had always seemed like a waste of time to him, so he had no idea where the course met.  After giving up on a round of Twenty Questions with a portrait (they apparently weren't intimidated by glaring), he'd finally just asked a suit of armor, which had pointed him up a stairway.  Three flights of stairs later, it had turned out to be a dead end. 

Some gnashing of teeth, a few vehemently expressed curse words, and one terrified first year later, and he finally managed to obtain proper directions to the sixth floor where the Arithmancy classroom was supposedly located.  Class was just letting out as he reached the landing.  A parade of students, chattering happily or clutching books to their chests, went scurrying by, a few giving him curious glances as they past.  Kurby glowered back at any that dared to make eye contact, causing them to instantly drop their gaze, apparently deciding that getting out of his way would drastically improve their life expectancy. 

Those who couldn't, teach.  Those who could, glared.  At the very least, it cleared a direct path to the door, as the last few remaining fourth years took one look at his face and quickly dodged out of his way.

The intense ire in his expression faded as he stepped into the room.  Neat desks kept in neat rows; this was surely the home base for Myrni Levartian.  He'd run into his old housemate a few times since they'd both graduated from Hogwarts, most recently at the uncomfortable events that formed the core of Whitman/Bagnold family get-togethers.  Those particular family ties were still unpleasant to admit, but they were still unfortunately strong enough to bring him here on this detour today.

"Grand place you have, Levartian," he remarked loudly, affecting a bored expression as he looked up at one of the cheerfully-colored Arithmancy banners near the doorway.  "How's the astronomy gettin' on, then?  Still got all of your lucky stars in the right place?"

These days, Myrni tended to look like the proverbial frazzled professor. Normally, she had herself so well put together. Even with her eccentric ways, she looked like she taught a logical and organized course like Arithmancy.

But that was before she started walking around with a huge weight off of her ring finger. And losing sleep because she lamented over whether her decision to end her engagement to one of the Wizarding World's most eligible bachelor's was a mistake.

She admitted that she had become a hermit since it had all unfolded. Whereas before she split time between staying at school and going home to the flat she had been sharing with Nathan, now she was only at school. And she preferred it that way because it provided the perfect hide-a-way from the outside world which had always been -- and still was -- so keen on the status of her relationship.

Burying herself in work -- even if some of her colleagues and students comprised some of that outside world -- was a cathartic means of coping the state of her personal life. But even work could sometimes be a masterful trickster. In her times of solitude, she was never completely alone. The questions....the nagging....the doubt, it was always there in some form.

As she dismissed her sixth year class and turned away from their departing figures to erase the board, she nibbled on her lower lip and silently hoped that none would want to speak with her about the lesson. Hearing the shuffling of feel die behind her and feeling that the coast was clear, Myrni turned again and prepared to collect her notes from the podium to take to her office.

She was startled just as much by Kurby Bagnold's voice as she was his physical presence before her. She drew in her breath sharply before letting it out again once she realized that he was not a hostile visitor.

At least she hoped.

Kurby was related to the Whitmans, but he had always been more accepting of her purity, like Nathan was. Perhaps that had also been helped by the two being in the same house and year together. She had quietly appreciated his support over the years, even if it was just to offer her a reprieve from being alone with too many of the conceited Whitmans at once.

And yet, even knowing all of this, it was with a heavy heart that she took in Kurby standing there. His comments were met with a slight upturn of her lips and dry response of, "Luck and stars don't really go together. At least not for me, anyway." She raised her brows a hair. "But if you wanted to find a star to hitch your wagon to, surely you remember that there's an entire tower here devoted to that subject." She paused. "You do remember that I teach Arithmancy, right? I've always been more of a numbers person."

The academic difference between astronomy and arithmancy was irrelevant; he hadn't cared when he'd been forced to take the former class at Hogwarts, and he hardly gave a damn now.  Kurby snorted to show just how much he cared about the distinction.

"Yeah, I'm plannin' to spend the afternoon there once I tear myself away from the Deputy Headmaster," he said sourly.  His upcoming interlude with Declan O Morain and Fauna Blake was not something he was looking forward to, even though it had at least given him an excuse to visit his old school.  "They both start with an A.  As far as I'm concerned, it's the same damn thing."

Myrni Levartian had shared Gryffindor Tower with him while they were both at Hogwarts.  Kurby hadn't gotten along especially well with her, but he didn't particularly think that he had gotten along well with anyone.  Myrni at least had been tolerable.  Even back then, he'd preferred Muggle-borns and halfbloods over the pointless rituals and games of pureblood society.  When she had started seeing his cousin Nathan more seriously, she'd become a reliable voice of sanity within their extended family.  He might not have gone out of his way to express his appreciation for her, but he appreciated her presence all the same.

Which was why, very possibly, he had even agreed to offered to take this on.  The extended Whitman/Bagnold family tree had plenty of drama within its branches, and normally, Kurby swore it off like a communicable disease.  It took a lot of emotional weight to bring him anywhere near family business, which was probably why he looked so unhappy as he settled against the wall, aiming a dark glare in the Arithmancy professor's direction.

"This isn't really about what I know, though," he added sarcastically, crossing his arms against his chest.  "Because not only did I know that you were planning to marry my cousin, but I thought that you were both head over heels for each other.  In love.  Getting married.  To hell with Whitman blood purity, wasn't it?"

He gave an irritated snort, shooting Myrni a disgruntled look as if her recent actions had been purposely performed just to shake up his worldview. 

"Although judging by what Nate said when he was losing miserably at wizard's poker the other night, it seems like I might not know nearly as much as I thought I did," he finished sourly.  "Why the hell did you break up with him, Myrni?"

"They're not the same thing," Myrni bit back curtly, a certain level of annoyance nudged to the fore at his surly attitude. Myrni remembered Kurby always exhibiting such a demeanor, even during their time in school. But she had chalked it up to him to being an indifferent member of the Whitman family that caused it. Still, there was a reason Myrni had never fostered a romantic interest in Kurby, despite thinking that he was just as good looking as Nathan had been. His tendency for being negative did not mesh well with her desire to always look on the positive side of things.

Still, Myrni had found an ally in Kurby during her forrays into Whitman territory and it had helped the hostile environment be more bearible. Sadly, there was only so much that she could bear and the recent events with Oscar had been her breaking point.

Myrni could sense that his visit to her had something to do with her break up with Nate, even before he said anything more and thus, she averted her gaze, settling it instead on the stack of parchment in front of her on her desk. She felt guilty enough already for the confrontation she had had with Nate to end things. Instead of evoking Myrni's pacifist nature, Kurby's criticism only managed to put her defenses up.

"I am head over heels for your cousin," she began. "And I was prepared to marry him....setting aside any reservations I may have had about his family and all of their faults." She finally raised her eyes to Kurby's face and a sadness had taken up residence there. She sighed heavily and lowered herself into her chair. "Sometimes love and avoiding the problem by sticking your head in the sand is not enough." She paused before holding up her hand to prevent him from interrupting her. "And I am well aware that I was the one who said to hell with it -- that I could deal with the purism and conceit. But even I am not that much of a saint.."

Her heart and her expression softened at his mention of her now ex-fiancee and his performance at wizard's poker, in all likelihood because of her. She could not hide how much she loved Nathan or how much she did want to be with him. But this was quickly forgotten and she narrowed her eyes at Kurby, annoyed that he would dare to judge her. "No offense, Kurby, but you really don't know what you're talking about. You don't know the whole story and you certainly don't know everything that I have had to endure through the years just to be with Nathan, mainly because I have chosen to suffer in silence for most of it."

She angrily snatched up the pile of student work from the and bit out, "Excuse me for finally growing a spine and deciding that I no longer wish to be a doormat."

Any patience that Kurby Bagnold might have harbored for the female gender in general and the women he knew in particular had been firmly imploded after the events of the past week.  First he'd had to deal with Stevenson, of all people, storming into his flat at two in the morning and ranting about something that he hadn't even done.  Then he'd had to come to Hogwarts because Gertrudis's bleeding intern had decided it would be a lark to waste his time by setting herself up for a useless round of questioning, and now in the process, he was having to listen to Myrni Levartian's nonsense reasoning about why it had suddenly become so imperative that she break up with Nate.

And it was nonsense.  The digs at his family aside - Kurby could complain about the Bagnold-Whitman clan with the best of them, but they were his to vent about; he didn't particularly like listening to anyone else doing it - her reasoning was so infuriatingly female, it made him want to slam the door to the Arithmancy classroom closed a few more times just to take out his frustration.

"Well, excuse me for thinkin' that it had to be all one or the other, then," he shot back.  "I've lived with 'em for years, Myrni, and I've sure as hell never been a part of that purist drivel," he said bitterly, crossing his arms defensively against his chest.  "And neither has Nate, if you haven't taken the time to notice.  He's stuck up for you for as long as he's known you.  Now you're prepared to turn your back on him because of his family, just like you're accusin' them of tryin' to get him to do to you?"

The anti-pureblood attitude made him feel literally sick.  It was the same ridiculous accusation that Ackerly Fox had flung around, as if every pureblooded wizard did nothing more than sit around in dress robes all day and look down their noses at Muggleborns.  The prejudice was infuriating, especially considering how many times he had stuck his neck out in the opposite direction.  Apparently unending jokes about marrying his cousins was fair payback for the abuse that non-purebloods seemed to think they suffered on a daily basis.

Pointing that out wouldn't help his cousin, though.  Nathan was one of the few relatives that he genuinely liked; one of a handful that Kurby felt comfortable asserting that they shared his opinion on purism. 

"And who the hell said that you have to suffer in silence?" he added sourly, making a show of rolling his eyes.  "It's not like they only invite you to their holiday parties if you keep your mouth shut and smile like you're agreein' with them.  I'd have a lot less reason to dread Christmas every year if that were the bleedin' case."

As soon the words had left Myrni's mouth -- full of annoyance and irritation -- she regretted them. Myrni Levartian who barely had a malicious bone in her body, even though plenty of people in her life insisted on walking all over her and taking advantage of her pacifist nature. But the whole situation up to and including Kurby's harsh words had managed to stress her more than anything else in all her life had. To this point, she had done well enough to hold in most of her frustration and annoyance at bay, but even she had a breaking point.

Instead of her usual tactic of stepping back and figuring out a way to "agree to disagree" with someone else, all of what Kurby was saying only managed to make her more tense. The more he talked, the more she wanted to shout back at him and force him to see the error of his ways. It was either that or box his ears.

Whichever came first.

"No, you've never been part of those purist ways, per se," Myrni said in a clipped tone. She chewed on her lower lip and resolved not to say Nate's name because it might poke holes in her carefully constructed armor. "He wasn't so much either....and I appreciate how much the both of you have stuck up for me. But in a family like yours, that can only go so far. And it did only go so far." Myrni pressed one splayed hand over her chest and continued to explain. "The thing is, I would never want him to choose me over your family. I could never bring myself to ask him to do that. So this was just....the easiest way."

It sounded like a pathetic explanation as it left her lips. But his tirade about her suffering in silence made her blood boil again. She left the security of her desk and stepped closer to Bagnold. "That's just my point, Kurby," she bit out. "This is not me suffering in silence anymore. By agreeing to marry him, I would have. Your family would never have accepted me. And even the few of you who did would never stick up to those who didn't for their actions against me."

Myrni glared at Kurby as she came to a stop in front of him. She refused to "tattle" on Oscar in an effort to win this argument. That would be a last resort. As far as she was concerned, she had plenty of other evidence to work with. She jabbed the tip of her index finger into Kurby's chest as she hammered her next points home. "Even you and your cousin are guilty of rolling over and letting the rest of them disrespect those of us who are less than pure with little to no consequence. If you still wish to scoff at me for thinking that, then answer me this, Kurby: Why are you still single?" She jabbed his chest with each subsequent point."And why have I never seen you bring a significant other to a gathering who may not have measured up to your family's standards? Could it be that even your resolve to be a bigger person crumbles around the likes of Oscar and Sylvia?"

She narrowed her eyes, not even waiting for a response. "I've endured it all long enough, Kurby, and I refuse to do it anymore."

The werewolf hunter had never been one to pride himself on his self control, but it took every ounce of it that he could muster not to just explode at the woman when she invaded his personal space.  Kurby stiffened, his entire body tensing as she jabbed her finger at his chest, punctuating each blow as she rained them down.  How the hell had this become about him?

"I'm still single," he snarled back, each word sharp and coarse, "because I'm damned well happy that way.  I don't bring anyone to family gatherings.  And if you weren't so taken with feelin' sorry for yourself, you might have noticed it," he muttered, giving her a nasty look.

Myrni's victim complex was all too typical.  Just like Fox, who had blown up at him over purebloods because he obviously carried a chip on his shoulder - never mind that the Auror hadn't bothered to risk his precious neck for Muggle-borns during the last war, Kurby thought with gritted teeth.  And just like the goddamned werewolves that he had to deal with on a daily basis.  It was always someone else's fault.  None of them bothered to take responsibility.  And whenever a disagreement came up, it always came back to the same sort of whinging all over again.

"Yeah, you've endured it," he retorted, making a show of rolling his eyes.  "We're the ones who have to put up with you complainin' about it whenever you need to make a show of something.  Did it ever even occur to you that maybe you should've asked Nate what he wanted?" he demanded heatedly.  "You're not even lettin' him make the damned decision!  Or opened your bleedin' mouth and said something so that he'd know you were upset!"

Myrni visibly bristled at his own stinging words. She didn't think she was feeling sorry for herself at all. She just didn't want to put up with a slew of craziness anymore. It was her choice. The same as it was Kurby's choice to be single. Normally Myrni was very understanding as far as Kurby was concerned but they were both stubborn Gryffindors who often managed to push each other's buttons.

"Of course you don't bring anyone," she taunted back, without attempting to censor herself like she normally would in order to be noncombative. "People like you and Oz are so full of hate towards love it's no wonder anyone wants to be around you...."

Myrni returned his nasty look and the nastiness seemed to migrate to her voice as well, "I notice a lot more than you realize, Kurby. But you Whitmans seem content to just look the other way. That is my point, Kurb. I don't want to be a victim here. I never wanted to be a victim. Believe me, if I thought shouting at the top of my lungs while every Whitman shouted at the top of theirs was the answer, I would gladly do it."

She took a deep breath and the heated fight seemed to slide out of her. Her shoulders slumped and she flashed Kurby a pained expression. "Nathan can still have what he wants. If he wants a woman who will conform to everything that his family wants or is willing to pretend like everything is just peachy keen, there are plenty of candidates. I'm just not one of them."

Before she turned to walk away from him, she said one last thing, very calmly and seemingly devoid of emotion at least for her. "I did open my mouth. Several times. It's just that no one in your family -- Nathan included -- to openly agree with me."

Kurby tensed at every word, his hands clenched tightly and his posture rigid as if he were about to break into a flight-or-fight response.  He glared back at Myrni, his expression furious, gritting his teeth so tightly together that he nearly bit his tongue.

"At least I'm not hidin' away in some tower because I was too afraid of what might happen in the end that I wouldn't even open my bleedin' mouth," he snarled back at her, giving her a disgusted look.  "No, you didn't, Levartian.  But at least he's findin' out what a spineless wreck you are now.  Even if he's broken up about it, it's less of a goddamned mess than if he'd married you."

Myrni was already turning away, and it was clear that the conversation was over.  Swallowing back a frustrated snarl, Kurby whirled on his heel, aiming an open hand at the wall just beside the door as he stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut as hard as he could behind him.

With each hurtful word directed at her that Kurby spat, Myrni felt her heart tighten more in her chest. Even though she still wanted to fight back against what he said, something inside of her told her not to--to let him leave and have the last word, like she always seemed to do with those she got into arguments with.

But nothing could keep a pained expression from slowly forming on her face as she let his final words sink in. Her eyes welled with tears as the endless questioning of her actions began and she wondered if Nathan really was better off not marrying her, moreso than the other way around.

The Arithmancy professor dejectedly made her way to her small little office. She dropped down into the chair at her desk, folded her arms on top of it and then cradled her head in them. Then and only then did she allow the tears that had formed to fall.