I Was Never Near It

Michael had been having a banner day. He'd 'borrowed' his friend's boggart because there'd been far too many kiddies in Honeydukes. He'd slid the boggart in through the back door and waited appropriately while leaning up againt a lamp post outside, one foot crossed lazily over the other, as he perused a copy of the Quibbler.

A few seconds later, the front door of the shop seemed to blast open and students on summer break ran screaming out of the shop. Clearly they'd never taken Defense Against the Dark Arts. Either that or whoever was teaching it was doing a crap job of it. A few of the students clutched onto his shirt and shouted in his ear.

"Mister! Mister! There's a monster in there!" They'd shouted at him.

"A monster, eh?" Michael responded. "Maybe I should go and see." They'd nodded vigorously and cowered behind some trash barrels and bushes while Michael got to play the part of the courageous hero and entered to 'duel the monster.' Once inside, he accio'd the wooden box that the boggart had come in. "Alright, you! Back in the box." The boggart had gone, after a moment of stubbornness. Michael proceeded to appropriately make some significant struggling sounds to keep the kiddos out while he loaded up five pounds of dark chocolate hazelnut fudge into a tin and shoved it into his messenger bag. He returned the boggart to its owner before anyone realized it was missing and ported into London.

He had a desire to see how Jack was faring in her new job as auror. That was all it was. A social call. Of course that was what it was. He laughed. He didn't know if he could pass that 'social call' bullcrap off on Jack or not, but he was going to try. He made his way to Jack's hexed office and went inside.

The chair across from the desk cussed at him and warned him to not even think about it. Michael pointed his wand at it and threatened to turn it into a book of matches. The chair complied. Michael took a seat, lazily put his feet up on Jack's desk, got out his tin of fudge and ate a piece, waiting on Jack, half listening to her office equipment continue to cuss at him.

Jack tramped towards her office, secretly cursing the day that Robert Lupin had ever become Minister of Magic- nay, the day he had been born. Not only was Jack continuing with all of her own work- since Poe just liked to dance around trying to release the nifflers- but she also had to worry about patrolling. Most of her days had been full of working at the Ministry until five, helping close down Wheezes, and then getting something to eat before she dragged Poe with her to patrol the streets until three in the morning.

But to make things worse, someone had taken it upon themselves to curse her entire office. So whenever Jack wanted a rare moment of rest- a five minute nap, a minute of silence- she was verbally and physically abused by her own office. The worst was the throw pillows. They were vicious and had grown teeth.

So as Jack approached, she was prepared. Her employees stared as she approached her office, the axe held deftly in her hand. A crowd had gathered as she reached her door. In a fluid motion, she kicked the door open and the throw pillows rushed her, screaming insults.

"YAH!" she bellowed, swinging the axe. It pinned one and she began ripping apart the other pillows. "DIE! DIE! DIE!"

"Oh, Lord, you're going to kill somebody," Michael said dryly. "Put that thing down before you hurt yourself. Have a piece of fudge. Fudge makes everything better. Didn't I teach you that?" He looked at the throw pillows all trying to chew on Jack.

"Stop that," Michael firmly ordered the throw pillows. "Or I'll let her turn you into scrub rags." All but two of the throw pillows relented. Two of them decided to yank on Jack's hair and somehow continued to cuss. Michael had no idea how a throw pillow could grab a hank of hair in its teeth and still manage to cuss, but truly she had some talented pillows. Hm... He was tempted to study that, but he figured Jack might not appreciate it.

"Freeze!" he shouted. The pillows froze in midair, one of them locked onto her hair. He looked at Jack calmly. "Put the axe down and tickle the pillow. It will let go," he said calmly, still not moving from his rather comfortable position. He popped another piece of fudge into his mouth. He saw Jack's co workers expecting more of a show. The stapler reared up, prepared to shoot.

"Oh, don't give them any more of a show today," he told the stapler. "Not unless Jack starts printing tickets. " The stapler seemed to consider it, and then blew staple-filled raspberries at the coworkers outside the door before settling again. "Don't spit. Its not polite," Michael told it, dodging the flying staples.

A voice startled Jack and she stood straight up. Michael Tremaine was sitting serenely at her desk, looking perfectly at ease in the hellish chaos. She sighed and drooped the axe, before flinging it to the side, where it stuck in her closet. In all honesty, the solstice that used to come from the office was gone, and she really could not give a flying eff for the thing anymore. The crunch of wood brought satisfaction where it usually would have brought anger.

The pillows stopped but two lept up and got her hair. Jack and the pillows immediately fell into a colorful battle of curse words. "F-ck you, plush bastards!" She yelled, punching them. She reached for the axe and one fell off under her other fist. Suddenly, she heard Michael and the pillows froze. Jack obeyed and dropped the axe again, tickling the pillow. It fell.

Jack watched the following process before she slowly strolled to the door and closed it. As soon as it closed, a haggardness took over her body and her bones. She turned back and stumbled forward. She held out a hand. "I demand fudge."

He deposited two large pieces of fudge into her hand and showed her the tin. "Do you think its possible to ever have too much fudge?" he asked. "I haven't found it. This might be the day to try. " He got out a bottle of firewhiskey and set it on the desk. Her quills went immediately to dunk themselves in the bottle. Michael got parental with them. "You lot don't drink. You're underage. Nothing but India Black for another year at least. Now behave." They began to wag themselves at him like utterly defiant adolescents. "Don't sass me. I'll pluck you naked and stuff your fuzz into those pillows with their overbites." The quills began to pout.

Michael looked back at Jack. "I don't know how you pissed off such perfectly good office equipment but they're really agitated about something or another. However, I happen to know that Robert is scheduled to be out the rest of the day. He has a C section to do, and then he's teaching a new surgical technique to some of the healers. Khaat is here, but she is quite busy today. So--we can enjoy our fudge in peace. It looks like you need it--at least until you figure out how to deal with all your new office mates here.

"So I hear you're a temporary auror? I've got to say, much as I believe you can well hold your own, I don't know that I ever pictured you doing that. What made you want to try that, of al things? Don't tell me you lost your affection for the beasties."

Truth be told, he was hoping she hadn't lost her affection for beasties. He had delivered a crate of nearly 100 rainbow colored pygmy puffs to her shop. He hadn't bothered with a note. It wasn't as if she wouldn't know. But--Robert was ready to use them for target practice, and Kate was quite fond of them. So--to spare the puffballs, he had delivered them to Jack for rehoming.

She took the fudge donation gratefully and collapsed into one of the chairs opposite her desk, shoving a piece of the chocolaty goodness into her mouth, slowly chewing and allowing the chocolate's therapeutic qualities to take effect. Michael began arguing with a horde of quills and Jack sunk into the seat a little as she allowed herself a moment of relaxation.

Michael continued on and, with her eyes still closed, and having just swallowed the bite of fudge, she responded with, "I did nothing. Someone is mad at me for helping out a friend in unorthodox ways so I get to be sh!t on." She nodded as he informed her they would have some time to themselves to eat and she poked another piece of fudge into her mouth.

He mentioned her new position and she swallowed a chunk of the chocolate. "Yes," was all she said at first, allowing him to continue on. "I haven't given up on my fluffies, no. It is some disciplinary action that has led me to also take the ranks of Law Enforcement. I don't have an issue doing any of the work, I just don't like it. It's not the right kind of adventure. I never felt like I belonged on this side of crime and punishment."

"I admire your desire to help others, Jack," Michael said. "I truly do." He poured a spot of firewhiskey in each of the glasses and pushed one her direction. "But the consequences could have honestly been far worse. You do realize that there is a 90% chance, so far as I would figure, that Robert does know the medical issues that your marinated friend has. And, Robert does like you. Much as it might not look like it. Your sentence is annoying but not out of your ability to deal with. I don't know if you've talked with Omara, but he didn't fare as well as you did. Not by a long shot. If Robert had truly meant to punish you, he would have. By my guess, he most likely was trying to educate Omara about something he seems to have some resistance to learning. And--much as you might be frustrated with the job tasks and as much as you might be worried about the animals you're responsible for, there are a couple things I don't know if you know.

"So, allow me to enlighten you. First, your animals are not abandoned. They are being well cared for in your absence. Not only by your staff, but Robert's wife, Kate, is very skilled in the care of magical creatures, and she has the gift of speaking to animals. Robert is paying her on a consultant basis to check on the animals daily and take care of any needs they have that your staff might have missed. By the way, the horntail female had two eggs yesterday. Kate says the horntail says they're her first eggs and she's excited about them. You should be back well in time to supervise their safe hatching.

"Second, if you want my humble opinion, I think Robert wants to see you grow in your skills. And you do have a bit of a penchant for walking into the fire and not away from it." That was no secret. Jack Dyllan didn't walk away from a battle, particularly if her friends were involved. She dove in head first. "In his own way, Robert is most likely trying to improve your odds when you walk into the frontlines. The Lupins are as dedicated to their friends as you are, even if they are unconventional in how they show it. Robert is using this to provide you extra training because you are important to him, to Khaat--and to me."

Michael poured her a drink and she accepted both the drink and the compliment. Jack was not pleased by the compliment like most people because she considered her need to help those who came across her path not so much a worthy quality, but a dastardly vice that was sure to be the death of her someday. Michael began to speak and Jack had some things to say but it did not seem like he was ready to give her the lead of the conversation yet. He had a lot to say.

Jack allowed herself to register all he said and when he was done, found herself a little more reserved than at the start of his long speech. She let the words hang in the air before she began with them. "I know about Poe's worse situation and trust me it doesn't help. He and I live together now, so it's something I have ended up dealing with as well." She smiled a little though, because that had naught to do with Robert as it did Poe's ability to get her to sweep in and help him out.

"And I know about the Horntail. I may be on restriction but it doesn't mean I don't sneak in here," she responded, trusting Michael with the information. Again, a smile, because she knew he would understand. Neither of them behaved for very long. "But... I'll have my team prepare hearty thank you's to Kate."

Now his last bit of information Jack did not know how to handle. She liked being one of Michael's allies, and she was touched to see it had caused Robert to take notice of her. But how to respond. She drank some of the Firewhiskey and finally said, "It's a tad hard to see how attacking throw pillows can be meant to help, but I see it now." She looked up at Michael, the trace of a smile to show him that, though she spoke lightly of it, she understood what he had told her.

"Kate doesn't need thank you's," Michael said. "Robert just is doing his best to be sure that your buddy doesn't get eaten. He honestly isn't trying to toss him under the proverbial bus." He was glad Jack was getting it now. "Robert doesn't lecture. He trains. And if he didn't think you had potential he would just not bother with you. Either of you. Consider it a backassed compliment."

He took another drink of his firewhiskey. "You know," he said, "It isn't hard to make your office equipment ease up a bit. Maybe even stop. But--does that make it more difficult for you and your roommate if I do that for you? I dont know what Robert's thoughts are about him. But, I do know that I could justify helping you--not that I would need to. I feel pretty convinced he knew what the situation was that night he assigned this to you. But I think I could make all the little knotheads in here shut up."

The chair next to him took offense and kicked him so viciously in the shin that it made a loud crack when the leg connected with Michaels' shinbone, and the chair began to chatter at him.

"Don't you cuss at me, you imitation, you." Michael was irked. The office equipment, now that it had an ability to communicate, did not like the idea of shutting up. The chair kicked him again. Michael drew his wand and fired into the air in the room. "Enough!" he bellowed, showing a rare bit of temper. Michael rarely got angry, but the chair was pushing it. "One more bit of attitude and I'll set you all on fire!" Most of the things in the room began to gather and cower in the corner behind Jack, hiding from Michael.

Jack listened, not saying much, because she didn't say much when she was paid a compliment. If the compliment, was undeserved, she would stop it. If it was deserved or there was not proof that the person didn't believe it, she remained silent. She would thank someone, because they should not be trying to flatter for thank yous. If someone wanted to pay her a compliment, she merely accepted. And these from Michael and those he loved, she accepted them warmly.

Michael said he could help ease the office and Jack responded, "I don't know how it would be more difficult to walk into my office and not be attacked." She grinned. He continued on, saying he wasn't sure what Robert thought of Poe. She nodded, understanding the issue. "It all depends on what is more important to the Ministry right now- those who behave, or those who can do their job." Jack knew what she preferred in her own department.

Jack sighed as the chair began to antagonize Michael, having given up on trying to stop it. Her legs were bruised up from ankle to knee- she usually just wrestled the thing. Suddenly, Michael blew up and the equipment hid behind her. Jack looked at Michael. "You're more patient than I am. I incinerated the footstool within the first ten minutes of the change of the office."