He'd been mulling the... situation, for lack of a better term. The 10th had been an odd day, the 11th awful, the 12th...had passed, and the 13th...well. The 13th was over. And by Merlin's bloody thong, he was glad about that.

He was semi-rested, at least. He'd woken up at his desk, in his classroom; the last thing he remembered was sending the kids out to star chart. Feeling incredibly sheepish, he'd relocated to the couch and had re awoken at noon - stiff, but rested. The nausea in his stomach wasn't eased by the thought that he'd fallen asleep in class, in front of the students; after the meeting, he very well might lose his job.

Admittedly, this job paid less than his old one, and he had the ability to return to his old career, so it wasn't that big of a deal - but he'd miss it, he'd miss the students, the other teachers, he'd miss...

Ignan. He'd miss Ignan. Which sent his mind back to the 10th. He'd been trying to put it out of his mind and had been failing. There was no choice; he'd have to talk to someone about it. That was the only way. Without revealing anything - he'd promised Ignan he wouldn't.

Right, then. Who could he talk to, that he could trust - that didn't have anything to do with this situation...ah. Yes.

He was, therefore, in quite a tired and melancholy mood when he stumbled down to the stairs and outside, heading for the hospital hut. He was still in his teaching clothes, the vest and shirt badly wrinkled from sleeping in them, his 5 o'clock shadow thick, his hair messed up on one side. His glasses lay forgotten on his desk.

The hut seemed to be mostly empty - thank Merlin for that. He stumbled up the stairs and knocked sharply on the door. "Tulojow?" He asked after a moment. "Do you have a few minutes...?"

A moment after Tappy's knock, the door swung open in front of the man.  If and when the Astronomy Professor peeked his head into the room, he would find Tulojow carefully setting the wand she'd used to open the door down on the table next to her.  Once her hand was free, she waggled her fingers, beckoning him wordlessly inside. 

The Hospital Hut was, indeed, experiencing a quiet lull in the wake of the werewolf attacks.  There was no one staying in the Hospital Hut and, so far, there hadn't been any outpatient injuries that day.  Hoping the afternoon would remain quiet, Tulojow had seized the opportunity to restring her banjo.  At the time Tappy had knocked, Tulojow had just fitted the end of a string through the tailpiece on the body of the banjo and had been holding the middle of it taught between her lips as she threaded the end around the tuning peg. 

As the Professor found his way into the cabin, Tulojow hastened to wind the tuning peg until enough of the slack had been taken up to allow her to free her mouth without the string slipping out of place on the lower bridge. 

"Of course, come on in," she offered as a follow up.  She gestured a hand invitingly towards one of the other two chairs by the fire as she wound the rest of the slack out of the string.  "Can I offer you anything to drink?"  Tulojow set the partially restrung banjo on a stand next to her own chair and pushed herself to her feet, grimacing briefly as the bone in her crumbled knee grated loudly. 

He headed in, instantly feeling silly for being startled when the door opened on its own. He made an effort to get his hair in order, brushing his fingers through it.

"Sorry, if this isn't a good time, I can come bac-" he started, but when she offered him a drink he stopped and cleared his throat. "If you've got coffee around, that would be good...?" He ventured. "But only if it's got milk and sugar in it - black coffee makes me ill, can't stand the stuff."

He closed the door atfer a moment, having forgotten to, and shuffled awkwardly. "I can do without if it's a hassle," he added. He was quietly fighting the urge to head back to the castle.

"If you really dislike banjos and can't stand being in the same room with them, it might be a bad time," Tulojow offered as she led the way through the door into the kitchen. 

She cast a warm grin over her shoulder just in case Trishna was likely to believe her.  "Otherwise, you're fine."

She moved over to a cupboard by the window and pulled out a glass canister of coffee beans.  "Milk and sugar's doable.  I've also got other options, if you prefer.  Cocoa, tea, spiced chai, wine, though I suppose it is technically a bit too early for that.  There might even be some spiced cider left that I could heat up. 

He couldn't help but smile a bit. "Never have trusted banjos," he said absently, following her into the kitchen. "Coffee would be best, I think," he decided, though that cocoa sounded tempting. He was leaning on the island across from her, and rubbing the bridge of his nose as he spoke. "Yesterday hasn't totally worn off yet..."

Hooking one ankle over the other, he drummed his toes on the floor. "I, ah...I need your advice," he admitted after a moment's pause. "I need someone who isn't involved, you know..." Chewing his lip, he sighed. "To kind of give me perspective on it. Thinking to myself hasn't been helping." To put it lightly; when he did let himself think about it he just went in circles.

Tulojow poured a handful of coffee beans into a mill and turned the crank, not bothering to try to speak until she'd ground the coffee as finely as she'd been hoping.  "The uplifting pep talk?" Tulojow asked, once she'd turned her attention to setting both a small kettle of water and a small pot of fresh milk on the wood-fired stove.  "People are always the most impulsively reactionary when they fear they're loosing their grip on control." 

Snark put up a strong face and she'd taken the position against quite a bit of opposition - Tulojow couldn't help but fault her for that.  But, underneath it all, Tulojow was certain she saw considerable insecurity in the new Headmistress. 

Tulojow nodded as Tappy explained his reasoning for being there, gesturing to one of the chairs at the kitchen table.  "Of course," she offered.  She picked a plate up off of the kitchen counter and pulled off the checkered kitchen towel, revealing a selection of cookies: chocolate, peanut butter, macaroons and iced butter cookies.  "Just so you know, I have observe a strict privacy policy here.  Nothing said here leaves this building," she offered, setting the plate on the table. 

She took the policy seriously and she'd made that quite clear to Snark and other staff on many different occasions.  Her duty was to keep the students - and staff - well: emotionally, mentally and physically.  She couldn't do her job if information was withheld for fear of the consequences. 

"No, not that, though that little prep talk didn't help," he said. "Though I might lose my job here soon, that's a different issue, really." Though Bombay being gone had cheered him up considerably. Now if only he knew why the annoying twat had gotten fired...criminal charged, apparently. It made him really, really want to - cookies.

Chocolates ones at that. That got his mental processes actually firing again and he nodded to her comments on privacy, chewing a cookie as she spoke.  "Thank you," he told her. "Though I wouldn't have come here if I couldn't trust you with that, policy or no."

He stayed leaning on the counter, and rubbed his nose again. "The thing is, well..." Where did he even start with this? It seemed like such a casual thing, but he couldn't quite stomach it. And he couldn't say names, and that would have made it easier.  And yet it wasn't casual, not to him at least.

"Well, I've got a...friend, you see," he started again, knowing she'd see through the 'my friend' thing is 0.002 seconds. "And this friend is, has...his mother vanished awhile ago, and he just found out she's dead," the words came out in a rush. "And he found out from someone he trusts that before she died...she and that trusted friend did...bad things." Bad things. He sounded like a 5 year old. "Really bad things. But he's not...upset they did those things. He thinks he should be, but...Is that...odd?"

He replayed what he'd just said in his head and sighed. "I'm sorry. That probably makes no sense."

Tulojow hummed a vague non-committal response to Tappy's correction as she turned to the drinks, her attention still very much on the conversation.  The water wasn't quite to a boil, yet, but the milk was plenty warm enough.  She retrieved several blocks of mexican chocolate from a cupboard and a jar of honey before commenting.  "Welcome to the club," she offered, flatly as she broke the chocolate up into smaller pieces with a knife. "I sometimes think it's a miracle I still have my job.  I figure it's only a matter of time." 

She dropped the chocolate into the fresh milk, stirring it gently.  Quite often, such seemingly domestic activities served several purposes.  They were, unquestioningly, homey and hopefully put the speaker at ease with their potential familiarity.  In addition, it gave her, the listener, something to do.  She neither had to watch the person as they found their rhythm nor pointedly ignore them if watching them made them uncomfortable. 

She did glance as Tappy tripped over his words, clearly struggling to find his stride.  Almost as quickly, though, she turned back to the stove, drizzling some honey into the milk and continuing to stir.  "I'm following you, if that's what your asking.  Your friend recently learned his mother and a friend of his had a shady past.  He isn't bothered by this realization but feels like he should."  Of course, Tulojow had seen straight through the ruse.  But, it made little difference to her if that's the way he chose to approach it. 

"Any guess as to why it doesn't bother him," she asked, checking the water as it came to a boil.  She added the grounds to a coffee pot and poured in the boiling water. 

"Y-yeah, that's basically it. There's more to it, but..." He was twisting his fingers together nervously.

"Any guess as to why it doesn't bother him?"

"No," he admittedly quickly. "None whatsoever. It just...doesn't. I...er, he - bah." He knew she's see through it; a baby would have. "I don't know why it doesn't bother me. It doesn't, but it should. They did... really awful things. Not Voldemort awful, but...she killed a lot of people. Horribly, in some cases, and I-" he threw his hands in the air. "It's okay if it's her and him, that's the problem! It shouldn't be okay."

He rubbed his forehead. "If he went back to it, I couldn't forgive it," he said finally. "Then he tells me they were...were together, after she left, and it's..weird."

It was weird, trying to explain this. Even worse was his second issue.

"And I'm glad she got to be happy before she died, even if it was...that kind of happy, but what does that make him and me?"

Tulojow listened closely as the explanation developed while she transferred both the brewed coffee and the hot chocolate to two separate carafes.  She placed both of the carafes on the table, followed by a pair of large terra cotta mugs. 

Tappy quickly dropped the pretense that this all involved someone else though Tulojow gave no indication that she'd noticed the change.  She poured herself a mug of hot chocolate, sprinkled it with some cinnamon before, finally, looking up, more fully, at Tappy. 

"They - as in your mother and your friend?"  Tulojow asked, just to clarify.  "And, your friend and she had a relationship after she left you.  Do you remember how old you were?  Disregarding this, what do you remember about her at all?" 

The picture he was painting was vague and patchy with bits of it faded and other bits left out completely. He was confusing himself and he had a much more complete picture in his own mind than Tulojow did.  All Tulojow had was what was revealed in the last few minutes.  "Start from the beginning." 

"Yeah...yeah." He nodded, eying the coffee as she made it. He poured the coffee into the mug and started pouring jn sugar; he looked up at her as he did so, apparently not paying attention to it.

"The beginning." He didn't want to, honestly; too much of that had been buried. He chewed on his lip again and suddenly remembered to stop pouring sugar, picking up a spoon to stir it in with. "I don't really know what to call the beginning," he admitted finally.

"I was 17 when she left, if that's what you mean." He sighed, sipping the coffee, then putting more sugar in it. "Just before I graduated - they got together a few years after that, apparently, during...during the late 90s."

Another taste test, more sugar. "I remember plenty about her and...killing people wasn't unlike her, I guess. She had a very violent temper. Used to hex at the drop of a hat, if she had the chance."

"The beginning is where you think the story begins."  Tulojow offered gently.  It was vague and, to many people, that could be frustrating and annoying.  Unfortunately, there wasn't any way to be specific in this situation.  To each individual, the beginning could be someplace different.  To Tappy, the beginning might have been when his mother left.  To his mother, it might have been several years before.  Or after. 

During the late 90s - this could have implied some involvement with Lord Voldemort's second attempt at power or it could have been coincidental.  It was doubtful that bit of information would be of any use but Tulojow tucked it away, just in case. 

"Your relationship with your mother," Tulojow put forth, carefully.  "It sounds like it was pretty strained?  She used to hex others or you?  Or both?  It sounds like, after she left, that you didn't keep in close contact.  Did you have any contact with her at all?" 

The pieces were starting to fall into place.  Tulojow was beginning to have a better sense of what this news from this friend of Tappy's had prompted. 

"That's...really vague," he said, finally. "I honestly...I don't know where this starts, really. I'm sorry."

He finally clued it he was adding sugar mostly as a distraction and stopped, setting the spoon aside. He looked at Tulojow, expression slightly hopeless, then sighed and chugged his coffee, slamming it back like a beer. It was very hot and he instantly regretted it, but finish the mug anyhow and put it back on the tale, letting his breath out.

"Both," he said. "But it wasn't strained, I guess. She was...kind of an odd woman. She wasn't affectionate in a normal kind of way, you know? But she - I - we got on. I caused her a lot of trouble, but she kept me. Until she left. I guess she couldn't take it anymore." A lie, but for now it'd do. He didn't want to talk about what had happened. With anyone.

He went to the plate of cookies and started on them. "I tried to contact her, after she left. She never answered. But she apparently - she mentioned me to him. Not in specifics. I think she just wanted to escape, you know, leave everything behind."

Tulojow grimaced apologetically.  "If you don't know where this starts, I'm afraid no one does.  At least, not right now."  But, they had to define a starting point.  Wherever they chose - whatever Tappy mentioned - that would become the start.  This could, very quickly, become a philosophical conversation.  If it were any less personal, at least. 

"So, you weren't close but you were civil?"  Tulojow nodded, slightly.  She, herself, had barely known her mother.  Tulojow had been four when her mother had died giving birth to her brother.  But, she had been raised by her grandmother and her grandmother had filled the maternal role.  And, during her travels as an Auror-Healer, she'd spent quite a bit of time in isolated communities as the healer and midwife.  She'd seen families of all varieties and at all stages. 

"You think she left because of you?" Again, the question was posed carefully.  They were slowly coming back to the questions he'd arrived with. 

And, at least for now, the second of his questions was probably the easier to answer.  "As to what this means this means this friend is to you is a little easier.  Obviously, genetically, you're nothing.  Unless they married and remain married, legally, you're nothing as well.  Emotionally - there's nothing that predefines that.  You're friends.  Are you questioning your ability to remain friends because of this?"

"That summary works as well as any. She'd get really - she'd have one of her moods, sometimes, and take it out on me a bit. But she was really defensive of me if anyone else tried it." He smiled distantly. "Muggle's son in pureblood society, you see. Her friends weren't always nice people."

Cookies were vanishing at a steady rate. "Left because of me...not exactly, but she got looked down on a lot with me around - and when she had my sister..." He trailed off again, looking for a good lie. "Her lover left her right before she had Georgiana - didn't like the fact she'd slept with a muggle, or something. I wasn't there when it happened, so I never really got the details."

Despite Tulojow's words, he looked at the floor glumly. "It's not that I'm questioning that we can't be friends, exactly. It's stupid, but..." He shrugged. "I don't know. We're friends, I guess. It feels like - something else sometimes, though." He ran through his words again and blushed brilliantly. "That sounds really gay, er...not how I meant it."