May 28, 2009
Thursday, 7pm

These past 8 months, since Knox Greyfriar had become a Junior Wizengamot Elder, his appearance on the Auror floor had become less and less of an event.  At first, his arrivals had been notable as he was most known for being the Hogwarts Headmaster.  But with a new career, his duties carried him here not infrequently.  To request case files, to deliver rulings about Wizarding Law, to observe interrogations, to sign warrants, and hand-deliver the same.

One thing he had yet to have time for was to check in on a young wizard he'd known as a boy.  Tarelin Faust, Auror-in-Training.

He really should be getting home at this hour, but he knew the Auror Floor never really slept.  Seven at night, or seven in the morning, and no one seemed to keep stranger hours than the poor Trainees.

Knox Greyfriar wended his way through the crowded chamber, between cubicles and desks.  Many of the witches and wizards on duty nodded or offered respectful greetings.  "Evening, Elder.  Alright, Greyfriar? Sir, good to see you."  It wasn't long before he found the bank of desks and nooks were the Trainees gathered.

"Mr. Faust," he greeted the young wizard as he'd always greeted him as a student, "Hope you'll grant an old wizard a moment's nostalgia."

Tarelin had expected late nights when he began training with the Auror corp, but nothing quite like this. Checking the clock hanging on the wall as he filed away the latest forms in the row of filing cabinets that littered one wall of the Auror office, Tarelin sighed a little. Ten to seven, and he still had at least an hour's worth of paperwork to fill out. Though he knew when he signed up that the hours wouldn't exactly be social, but this was ridiculous, especially when he had to be back in early tomorrow.

Grabbing another stack of documents from the next drawer down, Tarelin flicked through the documents before nodding to himself and tucking them under his arm. Returning to his desk and dropping the papers off, he noticed a group of fellow trainees three desks over. A few minute's break, then back to work, Tarelin told himself. Crossing towards them, he joined the conversation.

"Mr. Faust. Hope you'll grant an old wizard a moment's nostalgia."

The trainee recognised the voice from his youth, even the phrase was identical. Turning around to face the person who's spoke, Tarelin found himself staring into the bearlike face of Knox Greyfriar, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. For a second, he was too surprised to speak, and it was only when he felt the heat of the other trainee's collective gaze on the back of his neck that he nodded.

"Mr. Greyfriar! I- Yes, yes of could course." Smiling, he led the man away from the group and towards his own desk, hearing the other trainee's conversation strike up again as the two left the group. He did his best to remain professional, keen to show Greyfriar that he was doing well. "I wasn't expecting you to drop by. At all." He gave a small nervous chuckle, still unsure how he should treat a man of Greyfriar's standing. "Can I get you a coffee, or a tea?" Rule #1 of Auror training: if you're looking to impress someone, offer to make them a hot drink.

Seeing Tarelin Faust made Knox Greyfriar beam with pride.  The lad looked in excellent health! And so grown up!  Knox said as much, loudly exclaiming as he allowed himself to be led away.  "You look strong! Thriving!" he boomed, forgetting the eager young Auror might be embarassed at such a doting display.

Old Greyfriar had known Tarelin since he was a boy, since Knox Greyfriar had been his History of Magic professor beginning in his second year.  And then, later, Greyfriar became Hogwarts Head of House, and eventually Headmaster.  But he never forgot his love for the Hufflepuff students, especially the ambitious, careful Tarelin Faust.

If Greyfriar sensed the tension from Tarelin, who was trying valiantly to remain professional, he didn't show it.  Greyfriar had never stood much on tradition or ceremony anyway (the makings for a peculiar Elder, certainly), and often took for granted his high status.  And so he blithely accepted tea from the young Auror, and continued to smile down at him.  Arms crossed over his great chest, the bulky old wizard waved off Tarelin's apologies.

"I wish I had come to see you sooner.  More Hufflepuff's on Level Two the better." Then, quickly, bluntly: "How are your parents, Mr. Faust?" 

"You look strong! Thriving!"

"Oh, thank you very much." Tarelin was truly greatful for the compliment concerning his physical wellbeing, if a little taken aback by it. He was glad to see that the headmaster was still willing to speak his mind: the man hadn't changed, something that the trainee was very happy for. The man may not have always stuck to social conventions, Tarelin thought, but it was hard to dislike him when he clearly meant well.

Heading over to the teapot and pouring some of the brown liquid into two china mugs, he returned to the towering figure and handed one of them to Greyfriar and set the other down on his desk, moving to stand opposite the man. Even as an adult, Tarelin felt like a child stood next to Greyfriar, having to tilt his head upwards a little to keep eye contact.

"I wish I had come to see you sooner.  More Hufflepuff's on Level Two the better. How are your parents, Mr. Faust?"

His smile dropped a little as his parents were mentioned, an instinctive reaction, though he did his best to hold the smile. Tarelin couldn't be sure if Greyfriar had heard about the accident which had held up Tarelin's Auror training, though why he would have the young man couldn't be sure. Granted, it was nearly three years ago now, but the memory still struck a chord with Tarelin. There was no point in hiding it though.

"They're fine: they were injured by a rogue bludger three years ago, but they're better now." Nodding to himself as much as to Greyfriar, he paused for a second before returning to the conversation. "So tell me, how's the Wizengamot treating you, professor?" Tarelin's choice of title was instinctive - one didn't spend six years addressing a man like Greyfriar so formally without it sticking.

Knox Greyfriar sipped the tea enthusiastically, if that was possible.  It didn't fit the stereotype of his gruff exterior, but Knox felt such a great attachment to his former students that he just busted with pride to see them doing well, to be able to have a chat with them.  Frankly, up until last year, he'd assumed he'd been childless and so any fatherly instinct had gone into the care and feeding of his students.  He didn't even bat an eye at being called 'professor', so many people still did nowadays. 

"I'm in the trenches!" he bellowed in response to a query about the Wizengamot.  He slipped off his small cap and ran a hand through his thick black hair, only just since his werewolf bite graying at the temples. 

He laughed, probably too loudly for the Auror floor.  "It's karma for all the reading I made my students do all those year.  Up to my elbows in scrolls day and night."  He shook his head.  It was a completely different job than being at Hogwarts.  Just completely different, but he enjoyed it very much.  But clearly, he was missing Hogwarts life.

Greyfriar took the liberty of seating himself down in what must have been Tarelin's chair, and even though the great wizard was sitting, his knee bounced perceptibly.  It was late to be at work, but at least he wasn't at home with his sulking teenage son.[1]

"What do ya know, eh?"

1.	Devlin Matthews, who was expelled from Hogwarts.

"I'm in the trenches! It's karma for all the reading I made my students do all those year.  Up to my elbows in scrolls day and night."

Tarelin laughed alongside Greyfriar, though it sounded like a weak chuckle compares to the elder's belly-laugh. "Well," the trainee chimes in as Greyfriar's guffaw died away, "it's not like they was much call from practical magic in history of Magic classes." Giving a light-hearted grin in the former professor's direction, he sipped from his tea.

In all honestly, it seemed both Tarelin and Greyfriar were well and truly in the same boat: Tarelin's training programme had involved a LOT of reading and research in the past three years, and it was only in his final year that the research had been exchanged for official forms and files. In all honestly, Tarelin wasn't sure which he preferred!

"What do ya know, eh?"

Turning, the question caught the young trainee off-guard. He had heard Greyfriar use it countless times at Hogwarts, though he had never quite been sure which answer the ursine professor had expected of his students. He knew a lot of things, but Greyfriar likely wanted something new, not just the first woman burnt at the stakes during the muggle 'witch hunts' in Salem, America.

Realising that he was staring at his guest with a dumbfounded expression on his face, he coughed to cover the awkward silence and quickly turned away to grab the chair from his neighbour's desk, moving it so that he could sit opposite Greyfriar. "Oh, the usual, professor, the usual." Sipping from his tea, he nursed the mug in his hands as he continued. "It's hard to work here and not learn anything new."

He wasn't sure just how much he should tell Greyfriar about the work being done of various cases, but the man worked in the Wizengamot - It wasn't like he couldn't find out any of the information if he really wanted to!

Tarelin Faust, dear lad, took Knox's hypothetical question at face value.  Knox noticed the awkward pause, but didn't comment on it, instead allowing the conversation to continue on without any presumption of purpose.  So much of his interaction was on heavy topics, and was dense of content.  Just shooting the shit with an old friend was something Knox was happy to do.

"I hear that you've had quite the shake-up now that you've all finally got a Department Head.  Luckily you've still got Raynor at the helm.  She's straight as an arrow that one.  Now, I haven't seen your name on any reports yet, none that have come over my desk," he went on, opinining and interrogating in the same sentence.

"Do they let you off-leash yet, Mr. Faust? Or are you still stuck here shredding papers like a puppy?" he joked, knowing that the Trainees must be gnawing their own fingers off to get into the fray.  It was a very specific type of student who went from Hogwarts into the Auror Corps.  The word was disciplined.  But not necessarily patient.

OOC: Soooooo sorry for the massive gap between replies. Started proper work, and it's far more time-consuming than I expected lol.

"I hear that you've had quite the shake-up now that you've all finally got a Department Head.  Luckily you've still got Raynor at the helm.  She's straight as an arrow that one.  Now, I haven't seen your name on any reports yet, none that have come over my desk."

Nodding as Professor Greyfriar complimented Head Auror Raynor, he had to agree. The woman was fantastic at what she did, and he wasn't sure how the office would have dealt with Rosier's arrival without her at the helm. Tarelin was happy to know that she got the credit she deserved elsewhere in the ministry.

Within a sentence, Knox's conversation moved for praise to one of inquisition. Keeping eye contact, he could almost feel himself shrinking before the man, as though he had forgotten to turn in a history report. Glad that Greyfriar didn't push his questioning any further, Tarelin could feel his face flushing a little red. "Well, I mean, I'm still in training, and they're trying to make sure that I know everything before I start on the really big cases."

"Do they let you off-leash yet, Mr. Faust? Or are you still stuck here shredding papers like a puppy?"

At the mention of paperwork, Tarelin's eyes darted for a fraction of a second in the direction of the filing cabinets, then to the group of trainees a few desks over, then back again. The form filling had been so bountious for them all that a few trainees had even mentioned nightmares where parchment and quills waltzing together!

Suddenly remembering the other week, Tarelin smiled. "Wait, they did let me out on one case..." Standing and crossing to behind his desk, he hurriedly routed through a drawer before taking a Daily Prophet cutting and returned to his seat, handing it over to the former headmaster before sitting down and giving him a moment to read.

He had kept the story about the Azkaban killing as a momento of his first solo assignment. "They sent me to tell a lady that he husband had been killed during that break-out." Things hadn't gone exactly has he had hoped, but he was sure it would be alright now. "I'd forgotten about it until you just said. It's probably just been pushed to the bottom of the report file, that might be why you haven't seen it."

In all honestly, he felt a rush of childish joy about telling his former professor about this achievement, like getting straight Os in OWLs. "So what do you think of Mr. Rosier, sir?" He had been wndering about this since Knox had mentioned the Raynor, but remembering his assignment had pushed it to the back of his mind until now.

Knox had to take out his square reading glasses and he slid them on his nose as Tarelin Faust handed over the yellowed bit of Prophet.  It was from last week, when three prisoners at Azkaban had attempted to escape and were killed.[1]  It has nasty business, that.  Desperate wizards in a desperate act.  He allowed himself a brief frown.  It was their job now, Faust and Greyfriar, to send witches and wizards to Azkaban.

But he looked up at Mr. Faust with a proud smile.  "A rough assignment.  But the right one for a Hufflepuff."  It was odd to see Hufflepuff students going out to become Aurors - usually this job was the tromping grounds of Gryffindors and Slytherin.  But the Corps needed Hufflepuff.  Needed that particular touch to what they did.

He returned the clipping gently, sensing it was now an artifact.  Faust had asked about Rosier.

Knox took off his glasses and stowed them away.  In the meantime, his eyebrows raised and he shrugged.  "Why, you're in a better place to know than I am, right under his nose.  But from my view, he's better than a corpse."

Knox was being morbid.  "It's hard for many of my age to stomach a name like Rosier in that position," he continued more genuinely.  "And I'm not ashamed to say that.  The Rosiers, the Travers, the Rookwoods, the Malfoys... these are people who've made it their family business to undermine what we're all working very hard to sustain.  Has Cameron," he used the man's first name more boldly than he'd yet heard, but using it to distinguish the wizard from his clan, "done enough good to step out of that shadow? I'd like to think so.  I'd like to think we live in times where that kind of thing is possible.  What do you say?"

Knox had again, begun to pontificate has he was wont to do, used to having a rapt audience.  But he smiled a little as he shut up, smiling at Tarelin Faust.  What did Tarelin think of all this? Would he dare to say?

1.	20 May 2009; Three Killed in Azkaban Breakout.  The Daily Prophet.  [link]

"It's hard for many of my age to stomach a name like Rosier in that position, and I'm not ashamed to say that.  The Rosiers, the Travers, the Rookwoods, the Malfoys... these are people who've made it their family business to undermine what we're all working very hard to sustain."

Tarelin listened intently as Greyfriar spoke about Rosier, voicing his doubts about the man's family history. He kept his eyes fixed on the man opposite him, nodding on occasion. What he had said might well explain why a number of the more senior Aurors were a little standoffish towards the new head of their department. If the name Rosier was up there with some of the most infamous wizarding families in history, having a Rosier at the helm of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement wouldn't sit too kindly with the Auror corp.

"Has Cameron done enough good to step out of that shadow? I'd like to think so.  I'd like to think we live in times where that kind of thing is possible. What do you say?"

Pausing for a moment to mull over his former headmaster's final words, Tarelin nodded once again. "Well, I can understand why some people might be upset. What people like the Malfoys did were terrible during both wizarding wars." Granted, Draco Malfoy and his parents had both abandoned Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, but that still didn't pardon them for their previous actions.

"However," the trainee continued, "That doesn't mean that Cameron isn't different." Picking up the cup from his desk, he swilled down the last of his drink before setting it back in place and continuing, leaning forward in his seat towards Greyfriar with his hands clasped together in his lap. "I don't know that much about his family, but from what I've seen of him, Cameron's a nice guy."

Looking down at his feet, he tapped them a few times before looking up at Knox again with a flicker of a grin on his face. "Besides, if he has come looking for trouble, he probably chose the single worse department in the ministry to start with!"

Bright lad! Bright lad! The older wizard had a delighted and proud grin on his face, as he listened to Tarelin Faust with great attention.  The lad was thoughtful, perceptive, hopeful.  He seemed cautious to make judgements without more information - a charitable, careful move.  A good quality to have as an Auror.  Knox hoped he could hold onto that.  An Auror's job could very well jade him.  The wars had done enough of that in Knox's generation, as evidenced by their lack of faith in Rosier.  Their skepticism.

But then, the younger generation seemed more willing to let their peers make their own name, outside of family influence.  They were growing up in a world were blood and family ties seemed to matter less.  He missed this.  Talking to young people,  hearing a fresh voice on all of this 'grown-up' talk. 

It was a wash of optimism he greatly needed right now.

"Well put.  Very well put," he encouraged, still sensing a guardedness about all of this.  "I suppose we shall give the man a chance then, yes?  He's going to need it.  With the Aurors breathing down his neck you couldn't be more right.  You'll keep an eye on him for all of us."

The bear-like man's grin seemed to fill up his already full face, and Tarelin could feel himself flushing a shade of deep red. Glancing down at his feet again in an attempt to hide the tinting of his cheeks, Tarelin couldn't help but give a smaller copy of Professor Greyfrair's smile creep onto his own lips. It truely was an infectious smile, something he remembered all too well from his Hogwarts days. As Greyfriar spoke again, he looked back up, the smile still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

"Well put.  Very well put, I suppose we shall give the man a chance then, yes?  He's going to need it.  With the Aurors breathing down his neck you couldn't be more right.  You'll keep an eye on him for all of us."

The trainee nodded at Greyfriar's request. "I'll certainly do my best," Then, remembering something he had read in an old muggle book, he raised his right hand in front of him, pointing his index, middle and ring fingers upright and clenching his pinky and thumb to his palm, "Scouts honour." He wasn't sure if Greyfriar had ever heard of the Muggle Scout movement, but from what he had gathered in his reading, it was a way of swearing honesty.

Suddenly realising that should Greyfriar not understand his reference, Tarelin slowly let the hand sink back into his lap, his grin turning more nervous than anything as he looked at Knox. "Sorry about that. Do you think there's anyone who might be especially opposed to Rosier?"

Knox wasn't entirely sure at the gesture Mr Faust made, although it seemed faintly familiar.  That distant shred of recollections just made him think it must be some young trend that he was aging too far out of.  That was another thing he missed - at Hogwarts he could easily stay abreast of what young people cared about, what they were doing, and all the new 'wicked' slang.  He just stared at Tarelin as the young Auror apologized and lowered his hand.  Whatever it meant, it inspired some confidence, and Knox gave the lad an amiable shrug.

"Oh you know, only old codgers like myself.  Those of us who think there's still a Death Eater around every corner waiting to pounce out and give us round three with the Dark Lord.  At least we all know better by now to trust Harry Potter when he itches that scar of his," Knox Greyfriar joked somewhat irreverently.  Potter, their boyhood hero, was now on the Auror Corps as Tarelin Faust well knew, and as far as Knox heard, was just continuing to go about his tasks dutifully. 

He chose then to rise up from the chair he'd commandeered, making moves to continue on with his errands.

"Keep the faith, Mr. Faust.  And give Mr Rosier all the Hufflepuff spirit you can.  How much longer until you're through?"