The sun was hanging low in the sky as Vedir lit his second cigarette. This meeting was a routine one, but one he generally enjoyed in a kind of lazy way; the complaints of parents were interesting to consider, as always. They were either genuine, and had to be handled with tact and diplomacy; or they were insane and inane, and were therefore amusing in their own right.

And, of course, the official replies were entertaining to write. He had one ready to begin, the blank sheet before him at his writing desk, the parchment upon which he wrote and the quill in his hand both expensive and beautifully created. The parchment glittered, the decorated stationary of the school board having been done in gold leaf.

Of course, it was the man sat across from him that made this all so interesting. Vedir looked at Herschel for a moment, an eyebrow raised.

"Quite insane," he said, and folded and put aside a complaint about the house elves' lenient treatment making them likely to poison the children. The next one, however, wasn't quite as insane. He raised an eyebrow at it before silently handing it to his colleague - a smirk finally finding his features. "You turn, I think," he said.

My Dear Sirs,

It has come to my attention that your school is currently employing several teachers who are not teaching the children properly. My daughter has written to me on these facts and her letters have distressed me greatly, for she claims that teachers are teaching the students terribly incorrect things; the Astronomy Professor teaches them muggle knowledge, for Merlin's sake! And the Unforgiveables are again in demonstration!

She also has conveyed to me that the current Deputy Headmaster is barely out of short pants! I attended Hogwarts under the esteemed master Dumbledore and cannot find it in my heart to accept such a slip in the great school's policies. What, I must ask, is the thought behind allowing such a lax? And what, pray, is being done to fix it? I must warn you, sirs, that unless a satisfactory answer is received I shall continue to write, and shall induce my friends to do the same.

Yours Respectfully,
A. Barbaske, Mrs.

Herschel tapped his cigarette on the side of the ashtray, and left it resting there as he took the letter from his colleague. Responding to parent concerns was one of the least satisfying parts of his role as a Hogwarts Governor, which unfortunately meant that it was a rather common activity. Herschel was not indifferent to their concerns, but felt that many were trivial and that the parents did not have their children's best interests at heart. What mattered was whether or not their children were getting a good, quality education and whether or not their students excelled- but parents were never satisfied with just that. There was always something wrong, something which needed to be addressed and corrected- even if there was nothing particularly wrong.

His read the letter, placed it delicately back on the table, and picked his cigarette back up. Herschel took a few puffs, carefully considering what had been written. "I admittedly never had much use for Astronomy," he said to Vedir. "Eight NEWTs under my belt, and never once had to consult a single telescope. Though I cannot understand being enraged by a professor incorporating muggle knowledge. If anything it is particularly silly to teach the children, though not exactly harmful. If the man is ensuring they meet the standards of the OWL and NEWT examinations, whatever superfluous information he chooses to add is certainly not doing any harm."

Herschel shared his own smirk when he thought of having to defend the deputy headmaster. "Though I should think that you would rather enjoy the chance to defend your future brother-in-law?" He asked, casually sipping the whiskey that Vedir had provided earlier. Prideaux always was the gracious host, and Hassard Hall was far more grand and elaborate than his own modest manor in the countryside.

Vedir smiled neutrally. His own thoughts on said Astronomy professor were ones that would have probably shocked Herschel right out of his well-tailored waistcoat, but they were none of the other Governor's business, and he had no intention whatsoever of making them Herschel's business.

"I must admit I never had much use for it, either," he said, tapping his quill on the edge of the parchment before him. "Though I agree; and if anything, the muggle debates would make that class more interesting..." He smirked slightly. "May be best to look into it a bit, all the same. Though I suspect the OWLs and NEWTs will give us the answers we need better than any nosing around."

Herschel's next remark got a bark of laughter. "Hah! I won't give anything away, Mister Reid, but my brother-in-law is quite capable of defending himself; and that aside, the lady makes no secret that she and her brother are not close." His tone left the much harsher truth left unsaid; that throwing Declan to the wolves was more likely to make Liadan starry-eyed than helping the man was. Still, Declan was an interesting creature, and Vedir would certainly prefer to keep the man in power. O Morain was the kind of authority it was easy to influence.

"From my encounters with with the young man, his age has certainly not hindered him in an spectacular way," Vedir said. "Though inexperience may be an issue, I admit, but that is not something one fully overcomes merely by existing for longer than others..."

He looked down at the parchment. "What do you think - an actual penned reply, or the standard 'Your concerns are important to us' letter?"

"That shall be exactly what I write," Herschel said to Vedir. It was true- OWLs and NEWTs would be the deciding factor, and if Trishna wasn't educating them up to the examination board's standards, there would be an issue. But if he was getting the job done, let him be. Every educator had his or her own particular quirks or faults- but it did not make them particularly bad at their jobs. "Besides, I recall him from class, he was a very clever lad and a good kid. I have serious doubts that Trishna, of all people, would or could seriously harm any children." Storm, on the other hand...

His smile broadened when Vedir took his joke in stride, even laughing. Herschel had not been sure what sort of response his comment would elicit, but was glad that his colleague seemed to take no offense. Though Reid was, albeit privately, slightly curious about the fact that Prideaux did not try to deny the fact that O Morain would soon be an in-law. It was none of his business to pry into the man's private life, but wondered if some secret proposal had been made to the young O Morain woman. Herschel felt that Vedir was a bit old for her, women that young were still fickle and hard to manage- but to each his own. Besides, Prideaux certainly wasn't getting any younger and both had been raised that heirs were necessary, as well as having the appropriate spouse. At least she was pretty (he had seen her pureblood functions) and had a spotless reputation (apart from the reputation that the lady could be... cold) thus he would keep his thoughts to himself.

Even so, Herschel had fallen silent for at least a full minute (if not two or three) after Vedir finished speaking as his brain chugged along, attempting to pick out the best response to his colleague's comments. "Whether or not his age has been a hindrance is..." Herschel paused for another moment, attempting to pluck the correct word from his vocabulary, "unimportant- moot, even. The young man hardly has the experience for such a position, that I would agree with. He has been a professor for less than a year, and no doubt there were more qualified candidates- Storm, at the very least, would do the job just as efficiently- and likely better. Though that would bring concern that is not a Hogwarts graduate..." So many things for parents to complain about.

"Though the same could be said about the headmistress. She certainly lacked the proper experience for such a position herself, and has managed to maintain it well enough. Not to mention she got the werewolf out of the halls- quite a dangerous creature to let loose on the students. And though O Morain may be young, there are worse things to be accused of. At least he is not attempting to seduce the students." Which could be a very valid concern given how young some of their professors were these days.

His own quill had already begun to scratch across the parchment in response to Vedir's question. "Penned response," Herschel stated simply. "Assure the parent that if the OWL and NEWT scores are not up to scratch we will look into Trishna's future employment and assurance that the deputy headmaster has been doing a formidable job this school year... Though I have heard that the young man put in an application for the Department of Mysteries, which I found to be quite curious." Especially since Herschel happened to know the ins and outs of the man's past. He was friends with Mr. Smythe, after all.

"Mmm. Storm would certainly make a...different Deputy. But that rumor about Poisoning would certainly have to be fully investigated..." Unlike Reid, Vedir had found himself studying Storm recently - not for the Governors, either. He suspected that nasty rumor was not entirely a lie. If so, he was rather amused at the lack of subtlety. But he'd met some of the students; perhaps he couldn't blame the man for trying.

Vedir settled in and wrote the response - it was simple, matter of fact and rather cold. If they were lucky, it had worked; if not, they'd get a response that argued that the OWLs and NEWTs were too late. Still, the reply to that was simple enough...

The next one was in a sharper script, neater, and much shorter. He read it silently and handed it to Herschel without a word, and got about to addressing the first letter.

My Dearest Sirs.

My daughter has written to inform me that Mistress Snark may be intending some sort of large event. Whispers are of a Triwizard Tournament. How does she intend to defend our students from the dangers of such a tourney if she can't even keep Werewolves away with a full staff of Aurors?

Yours, Geoffry Havvad

"He did only poison the seventh years, from what I heard," Herschel commented indifferently. "An unorthodox approach to be sure, but an effective one. It is more effective to learn from doing, after all, and he didn't kill any of the students. Surely he had no intentions to do so. Nothing impresses upon someone the importance of learning a subject as having to live or die in the mean time." It wasn't a tactic that Herschel would ever use, but with a subject like the one Storm taught it was an understandable method.

Herschel took the letter that Vedir handed him, pursing his lips in response, then he carefully folded it and set it aside. "I believe it is best not to address any letters in reference to the tournament until we have spoken more with the Headmistress and have more details settled as far as schools participating and what we shall be doing to keep things safer than they have been in the past," he said.

"I suppse we should have a meeting about that soon," he added. "I'm sure the Headmistresss has made some headway in her travels abroad to discuss with other schools. We should send her an owl, and talk to Persepolis about the best day to meet. Perhaps wait until after exams, and before the students head out on their trip to Egypt?" Herschel suggested. "There won't be a way around announcing the tournament once the foreigners start showing up. Better to get an article prepared for the prophet now than have a snooping reporter do it on their own."

"True. I though I can certainly understand parental concern. Perhaps we should make a note of it and..." He steepled his fingers as he considered. "Our Mister Storm is an interesting man on his own. Perhaps a simple letter requesting him to approve such techniques beforehand?" He smiled slightly.

He sat back a bit as the conversation turned a bit more serious, his expression mirroring Herschel's. "A meeting is critical," he said. "With the children going home in two weeks, we need to be the first to broach the topic - not them, as they carry the rumors to their parents.."

Sipping his brandy, he savored the taste for a moment.

"If you'd like, I can see what I can do to control the rumors," he said. "I have friends in the press. When in doubt, they could always do a 'rumor' report," he made finger quotes in the most dignified way imaginable. "That steers minds the way we need them."

Herschel smiled lightly, and shook his head slowly. "It is better for us if the parents cannot see that we have given permission to a professor to poison their son or daughter, I believe. At that point if something bad were to happen we can deny knowledge, responsibility, and remove the professor from their post and resolve the issues much more quickly. Though we could request that Storm refrain from poisoning the foreign students over the next school year- the idea of a death of a foreign student hanging over our heads is not something I look forward to."

"Of course- the Durmstrang alumni might appreciate the tactic," he added as an after thought. But he had a feeling those from Beauxbatons would not, and it was safe to say that Salem would feel the same way. They were much more progressive over there- far too embracing of muggle culture, and Herschel wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility those ideals might rub off on Hogwarts next year.

Herschel liked hearing that he could exert some control over the tournament rumors, and he nodded. "That might be wise. Though I do believe a simple, official release would be best. Yes, we are planning a tournament. These are the schools we are inviting. These are the security measurements we have been working on. Please forward all questions to the Board of Governors- to spare Snark, of course, and that more information will be given to students and parents prior to the begin of the new school year."

"It is best to give the impression that we are aware of the dangers, that we will have everything under control, and that parental concerns will be listened to and addressed. We ought to find some sort of intern to sort our mail over the summer to save us some time," Herschel added with a slight chuckle, sipping his drink. "Such a glamorous position."