Awkward Introductions -- (Oliver)

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AWKWARD INTRODUCTIONS
HOGWARTS COURTYARD, 2:00PM, TAG: OLIVER WOOD

Spacey was a word that definitely applied to Esmeralda Echo. She seemed quite content living in a separate bubble, a world of her own, constantly day dreaming with her head tucked away in the clouds. It was true that when she tuned in to the correct frequency she could be painfully astute, though these moments of clarity between her vague dreamy exterior were few and far between. She had missed breakfast, again. It wasn't that she overslept, quite the opposite she was often up at the crack of dawn fidgeting about with things in the greenhouses ensuring all was ready for the day, but time always got the better of her and before she realised how long she had been pottering about for classes were about to begin. The kitchen house-elves had proven themselves most kind, gladly preparing her a lunch she could take to the greenhouses to ensure she remembered to eat when faced with the distractions of her work.

She rummaged through the little box as she made her way up from the kitchens and back to the grounds. She'd assured the house-elves she only required a sandwich or something similarly small to tide her over to dinner but they continued to pack extensive lunches, she didn't have the heart to tell them most of it went to the chickens and the few bizarre exotic plants that ate just about everything. Today was no different, a bright orange soup that was more then likely pumpkin based surrounded by dumplings and large chunks of crusty bread. She couldn't help but smile at the effort they gave despite the fact she'd only manage half of the meal, if that.

Bight china blue eyes surveyed the courtyard as she stepped out from the great hall. It was a grey day, the weather threatening to change. The grounds were painfully quiet save the soft rustle of leaves and the odd noise of animals in the distance. No doubt all the students were still in their classes. Her classes for the day had already ended gifting her one rare late afternoon off per week. Not that she had much to do with it other then devote her time to marking and pruning and plotting the new shipment of plants and that had been her plan for the weekend. She supposed the other professors would visit friends in Hogsmeade, perhaps floo to visit their families. Her gaze dropped to the two simple gold bands that remained on her left hand ring finger. She knew it was past time to remove them, but despite all that had gone between her and her soon to be ex-husband, she couldn't quite bring herself to be rid of them just yet.

With a sigh she pushed the strands of shoulder length black hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear. Think about something else Esme. She chastised herself, turning her attention back to her lunch. Taking a seat on one of the many stone benches she began to unpack the little box and it's contents. The rather bizarre choice in attire made her quite the feature in the mostly monochrome courtyard, a strange mash of 50's muggle fashions and wizarding robes slammed together in a odd mash of colours.

Soon lost within her own thoughts and the rather impressive lunch she didn't notice someone else was making their way through the courtyard until they were but a foot away. “Afternoon.” She greeted merrily without thought, only slightly glancing up before her attention went straight back to the soup. It took several moments for the appearance of the other occupant to register. She had never been very good at guessing ages and so many of the sixth and seventh year students looked so much older then their years, it didn't help that beards and stubble seemed to be the fashion at the moment. With a quick double glance she confirmed that the stranger was a young man, probably a seventh year.

“Hey!” She called to get the strangers attention once more. “Shouldn't you be in classes?” Esme tried her best to give a sharp, telling off tone but it came out more concerned then anything else. Rummaging through her robes, she withdrew a strange clock-like contraption, several hands spinning rapidly around the centre. “You should just be able to make it if you run.” She offered kindly.[/blockquote][/size]

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It was surely interesting. When applying for this job as Madama Hooch’s assistant, he wouldn’t have dreamt of having so much time on his hands. Or was that just the initial week being slower than the others? Or because he was used to set up Quidditch training rosters? In any way, Oliver had found setting up the overall training schedule for the four House teams to be far easier than he had thought, and where he had planned to spend half a day, he had only spent two hours on it, and now didn’t quite know what to do until the next flying lesson would take place. He wasn’t supposed to teach there yet, just be a pair of extra eyes to watch over the First Years and maybe give a hand when Madame Hooch was occupied with another student. Smiling Oliver remembered the incident he had heard about in his fifth year, when the famous Harry Potter had climbed his broom even though he had not been allowed to teach Draco Malfoy a lesson. That move could have gotten him expelled, but thank Merlin he had done it! Because this had earned Oliver the seeker he had so desperately needed for his grand dream. Winning the House Cup before he left Hogwarts. And just to think of it… if there had been another person present besides Madame Hooch, this might not have even happened. Chuckling lowly to himself, Oliver contemplated if he should say to her that NOT leaving the students unattended might be a bad choice after all.

Looking over the schedule and the team lists again, Oliver couldn’t help but smile as he saw the spot of Gryffindor team captain being filled by none other than Harry Potter. The lad really had come far, just like everyone had predicted it.Quidditch talent of the decade, maybe even of the century. With Harry, Oliver knew his old team, his pride, in the best hands imaginable. But he also knew how hard it was to have the responsibility for the whole team, and it might be even harder for someone that had played the position of Seeker before, and had more or less played his own game while not caring what tactics the rest of the team used. But as captain now he was in charge of every move of the play, while he STILL had to watch out for the snitch. Oliver really had had it easier that way, since as Keeper, he had controlled the playmaking from one end of the field, with the best overview imaginable.Well… he would help Harry if he ever came to ask for advice, but he would not go to him and practically force it down his throat, giving him the feeling someone was breathing down his neck and critically observed every move. He might have been so obsessive once, but he hoped he wasn’t anymore. Time would tell, he guessed.

Tossing the quill on the desk, he decided he wasn’t one for spending the rest of his freetime in his new office, and that he would rather test the weather from outside than the inside. It was grey, but not rainy, a slight breeze making the trees of the Forbidden Forest move. Perfect Quidditch weather in a way, as it wasn’t so hot the sun was threatening to cook his brain. Suddenly Oliver knew what he wanted to do. He would go down to the Quidditch pitch and fly a few rounds, just to greet the lovely old place and reconnect with some of the memories he had made there, good and bad.
Walking down a few flight of stairs, he noticed how quiet Hogwarts was. As a student you usually didn’t see the castle like that, since you either were in class or in the common room during the day, not wandering the halls like he did now. But he guessed he would have to get used to it in some way. Stepping out into the courtyard, still somewhat lost in his own thoughts, he was greeted by a friendly female voice wishing him a good afternoon. However, shortly after, the tone changed and turned into something Oliver had often called the ‘teacher pitch’: authoritative and demanding, yet trying to be halfway friendly still.

“Shouldn't you be in classes?”
Oliver stopped and turned on his heels, perplexed. Had she just… had he just been mistaken for a student?! Groaning inwardly, he knew he had had that coming and it probably wouldn’t be the last time. Maybe he should have gone with a beard instead of stubbles? Now, how to react? The other person surely would feel extremely awkward when she found out how mistaken she had been… but he couldn’t well let himself being sent inside again, right? That was so demeaning! In the end, he tried his best to break it to her softly… turning it into some kind of joke, even though he did not know how well it would be received.
“I don’t think so. Flying classes are not until later, and I think I’ve done the workload of today. But of course, you can check with Madame Hooch, if she’s got anything else do to for me she didn’t tell me about.”

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For a long moment Esme starred at what she believed was a student with an utterly perplexed look, as if trying to work out if he was attempting to pull one over on her. She had come to expect it, she was the new professor after all the kid’s felt they had to test her limits and any naivety that could be taken advantage of, it was a right of initiation she was sure all the other Professors had suffered. She’d certainly tried it on with anyone new when she was a student. “Ohhh!” She exclaimed as a dawning realisation hit, blood rushing to her cheeks, a faint blush spreading across high cheek bones in embarrassment. Oops. “You must be Madam Hooch’s new assistant!” She stated the obvious awkwardly, all hints of the teacher voice she did her best to emulate gone, replaced with a light though slightly frazzled tone. In her defence he did look very young even with a closer inspection.

“I’m so sorry; my ability to tell people’s ages is notoriously bad. Though I suppose there’s worse things in life then being mistaken for a teenager?” She offered with a gentle laugh hoping her new found colleague would take it as a compliment rather then an insult. She had never been very good at first impressions anyway, but this one was impressively making its way up and into her ranks of ‘worst of’. Thankfully it wasn’t anywhere near close to the top yet, no that one had a special reserved place for throwing a glass of pumpkin juice over Professor Dumbledore in her first year (accidentally of course), closely followed by a similar glass of wine down her last bosses shirt just two days before the interview (not so accidentally). She really was rather good at spillages. No this one wasn’t too bad so long as she didn’t throw her soup at him. With that thought in mind she removed the bowl from her lap and placed it at the opposite end of the bench as a precaution.

“Tell you what, if you don’t tell Professor Sprout I’ve been telling off teachers, I won’t tell Madam Hooch you’ve been skiving.” She offered with a bright mischievous smirk that seemed slightly out of place following the chastising tone she’d attempted to take just moments ago. Hopefully, she thought, the attempt at a joke would diffuse her earlier mess up. Raising to her feet she crossed the courtyard quickly, though this did little to truly add her much additional height at 5 foot 2 inches, thankfully exaggerated to 5 foot 5 with the help of a pair of heels. Madam Hooch’s assistant still towered above her, she supposed that should have been an indicator of his actual age, but hey even some of the third years stood impressively taller then she was.

She offered her hand out in greeting. “Esmeralda Echo, Esme – i’m taking over for Professor Sprout now she’s…” She paused looking for the right explanation. Now she can’t be bothered? Now she just wants to potter round the greenhouses with a glass of sherry? Pomona had been a dear friend for many years but Esme had yet to completely forgive her for propositioning her to Hogwarts with the promise of an assistant job with only one or two lessons here and there and not being given a single explanation or warning before she was exulted to full-time professor and head of Hufflepuff house. As the older professor had said ‘well you wouldn’t have come if I’d told you the truth’ and damn true that was. Still she was not the type of woman who spread idle gossip especially about friends, despite how irksome they might be. And despite Pomona’s deceit she was secretly glad she had lied, if she hadn’t there was no way Esme would have had the confidence to join the Hogwarts faculty properly. “Starting to think about retirement.”

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It was almost amusing and adorable to see the realization of her slip dawning on her. Almost though, because he himself still felt a little awkward with it himself. He wasn’t exactly sure, if he should feel flattered about being judged younger than he was or not. He felt being in that sort of in-between age where it still mattered to be seen as an adult and not a child, the awkward early years of the twenties. Once firmly established in the adult role, he probably would be proud being judged younger. But being seen as student had too much resemblance with being seen as a child to make it a thoroughly happy affair. On the other, seeing her so sorry about it made him want to just forget it and get on with what he had wanted doing, though that would be thoroughly rude. Oliver just didn’t do well yet with awkward situations that had more to do with interpersonal abilities than tactics and flying.

“Erm yes… that’s who I am”, he confirmed with an uneasy smile. “And I don’t blame you in the slightest… I guess… um, I guess there has been a lot going on in the first week and I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself to everyone of the staff.” He had a rough idea who she was, since he hadn’t seen Professor Sprout taking any of her duties up and he remembered the First Night, when Dumbledore had introduced this young woman as her replacement. He had never really been into the Greenhouse work, but still it had been part of his childhood and view of the Hogwarts world, to see the tiny Professor Sprout rummaging about the Greenhouses and managing the Hufflepuff House. How silly of him maybe to think that nothing should ever change, his own call to Hogwarts was the best example on how things COULD and WOULD change after all. One day, but hopefully not so soon, he would take over from Madame Hooch and there would come generations of students not knowing it any other way.

“Tell you what, if you don’t tell Professor Sprout I’ve been telling off teachers, I won’t tell Madam Hooch you’ve been skiving.”
Well… he hadn’t exactly been skiving anything, but the moment just didn’t seem right for technicalities right now, and so Oliver didn’t point that particular fact out. Instead, he tried to go with the slightly more lighthearted air of the conversation and gave a smile and a nod. “I think we might just have made ourselves a deal there. I really have no desire of someone finding out I’m using the time for private training, so I keep in Keeper shape.” There wasn’t really a reason to stay in shape now, but it had been a part of his life for so long that he didn’t think he could just let go of it. That had been the heaviest down side for Oliver hands down: Seemingly giving up on playing Quidditch altogether. It sometimes made him wish to just be a student again and be able to play for the Gryffindor team like he had for six years. There had been pressure there too, but not quite so hard.

Then she introduced herself as Esme Echo, the name he had heard at the First Night Introduction but swiftly forgotten afterwards, sadly. And she confirmed what he had been thinking: That she was the subsitute for Professor Sprout, since she had decided it was time for a retirement.
Grabbing her hand in a firm and friendly handshake, Oliver said: “It is a pleasure to meet you Esme. I’m Oliver Wood and like you figured out already, Madame Hooch’s new assistant.” He let his gaze wander over the grounds and the castle thoughtfully for a moment. “Odd, isn’t it? There seems to be a generation change afoot in Hogwarts… and us two are the pioneers. I’m… don’t get this wrong, but somehow I’m glad I’m not the only one… the complete odd one out.”

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There had been a lot going on in the first week. Esme had barely met any of the staff, perhaps part of that was from a shy fear, these were people she intended to be working with for a long, long time and despite the hugeness of the castle they’d still have to cross paths regularly. Her skill of making bad first impressions could lead to some considerable awkwardness, it didn’t help most of the Professor’s held considerable academic names she’d long respected and would hate to make a fool out of herself infront of. Still she supposed she couldn’t hide from the staff room forever, despite the temptation to take refuge in the greenhouses for the rest of her years.

“Nice to meet you Oliver.” She smiled brightly, now determined to speak to him as much as an adult as possible to make up for her mistake. No doubt after a few weeks he’d be royally sick of being the youngest of the faculty, she didn’t need to draw any further attention to it. Her head tilted slightly as he expressed his gratitude at not being the only younger staff member. She hadn’t thought of it like that. With working at the Ministry one became so focused on their ‘adult’ life, careers, bills, mortgages – she supposed back here at Hogwarts she was actually closer to the age of the students then she was a lot of the Professors. In many ways she still felt an intruder in Hogwarts, not wise enough to be a Professor and not young and naive enough to be a student. Yet strangely she still felt more at home and comforted here then she could ever remember being anywhere else.

“I know what you mean, I think I still thought of the other Professor’s as this unmoveable force that would be at Hogwarts forever, though I suppose they all must have started when they were young with no idea what they were doing.” The idea of a young Pomona or Dumbledore standing in their classrooms on their first day just seemed alien. “I still keep expecting to get detentions for being out of classes. I actually panicked and hid behind a bookcase from Fil… Mr. Filch the other day when I saw Mrs. Norris after hours. It’s ridiculous.” She laughed gently at herself. It was comforting to know she wasn’t the only one at Hogwarts who didn’t feel like they quite fit in with the others yet. It certainly wasn’t the fault of the other Professor’s who had all be kind enough, but they were all very settled in their positions and Hogwarts as well as in themselves as people.

“So you play Keeper?” She asked with a genuine interest. She’d always loved Quiddich, fondly remembered being taken to see matches during her childhood with her father. In her last few years at Hogwarts she’d even played Chaser for the Hufflepuff team, though she’d be the first to admit she wasn’t an amazing player. True player’s needed focus, her head had always wondered halfway through a game, lost in its own thoughts. Several times she’d ended up with a qauffle to the face or crashing her broom into another player. “I played Chaser back when I was a student, that was years ago I don’t think I’ve touched a broom since.” She remarked slightly absently as she pondered on that, how sad that she’d become so obsessed with her career, her duties that she had forgotten to take time for simple pleasures, for fun like flying just for the hell of it. Quickly catching herself in the saddening train of thought of all the time wasted she pulled herself back to the here and now, the contemplative look quickly returning to the warm smile that lit up bright blue eyes. "Do you play for a team?"

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A completely different tone had entered their conversation, and Oliver had to admit he liked this tone much better. It seemed like Esme had accepted him as an equal now, letting go of the looming teacher-student relationship she had initiated with her wrong estimation. Goodness… that would take a while to get used to, he realized. Adopting this role for himself. To see the students as students… while he himself was something higher now. Not only a graduate, but an assistant teacher. He wondered if he would so easily embrace this role and everything that came with it like she seemed to do. But then, she was probably a few years his senior, which might explain why he didn’t exactly remember her from his time at Hogwarts. From her looks, she might be in her late twenties, while he was only twenty-one. That didn’t exactly make for a huge age gap between the older students and him. The thought of being called Sir by any of those he remembered, particularly for example by someone like Harry Potter made him grin and squirm inwardly at the same time. Great Merlin, what had he been thinking?! But then… as Madame Hooch’s assistant he might not be so much involved with students in his first year of training, that would all depend on what she wanted him to do.

An unmoveable force… yeah that was exactly what he had meant, though he surely would not have been able to make it sound so… real and true. He really wasn’t one for flowery words, he was already glad he most of the time knew what to DO instead. “I heard a wise man once say that in a place that we call home time is not supposed to pass. Because every sort of change makes it somehow less of how we preserved it in our minds, how it should be. Even the bad things are part of that presumed perfection. So…” he gave a little amused laugh, “even running from Mrs. Norris and fearing Filch belongs to the feeling of ‘Hogwarts’, so it’s absolutely understandable, not having to do it anymore somehow will rub wrong for quite a while. And not having Peeves call obscenities after you is certainly peculiar too.” He hadn’t made use of his new ‘freedom’ much yet, apart from doing things like he did now, and what Esme had called him out for: Taking some time off his duties to do what he want. A year or so earlier, he also would have let nothing deter him from that plan, since nothing had been more important to him then. He might have ended the conversation politely but as soon as possible, just so he could get on his broom. One part of him still wanted to do that, but now there was also this voice inside of him, telling him to grow up and be a bit more social.

So, instead of excusing himself, he focussed on her questions and decided to really give them the answer they deserved. It was still not an easy topic to talk about, but Oliver guessed it would not be the last time this was brought up, so he better got used to it.
“Yes, indeed.”, he affirmed with a nod. “I’ve been playing the Gryffindor keeper since my second year at Hogwarts and later became Captain. We won the House Cup three years ago, in my final year. After that, I wanted to go into Professional Quidditch playing and ended up as a reserve keeper for Pride of Portree… though I played more often than I thought, cause the main keeper was… often indisposed. But… somehow I realized the professional league wasn’t quite the thing for me, so I quit and asked Hogwarts if they had any need of me.” He gave a shrug, there was really not much interesting about his life. “What about you? How did you end up here again?”

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“That is very wise.” She agreed as Oliver explained the idea of how their memories of home were perfected and preserved. She supposed for many of them Hogwarts was more a home then their parent’s houses had been. Even for those of them who had been raised in the wizarding world Hogwarts had a touch of mysticism to it, a freedom where they could practice magic and explore outside of lessons. She’d always got along with her parents but every summer she’d still counted the days til she would be back in the castle and after graduation she’d moved out immediately to seek her independence. She supposed in that way Hogwarts had been more her home then anywhere else during her time here. Esme had fallen in love with the castle the moment she’d seen it as a first year brought across the lake on the little boats. The plan even from then had been that eventually she’d return and spend her late years back at Hogwarts. Of course the plan had been for when she was significantly older, but most things had failed to bow to that original plan in truth.

“Yes I heard Gryffindor won last year to, I’ll have to have words with my house about that.” She gave a smile to show she was joking. It still felt foreign to say ‘my house’, as if she was stealing something. She was not a competitive woman by nature, but she would certainly enjoy sitting and cheering on the Hufflepuff house and hope for their victory in the Quiddich Cup. “Well I hope things work out better here, I’m sure Madam Hooch will keep you on your toes.”

“Me?” Esme was not a truly secretive person but regardless of how she welcomed and encouraged others to open up and honestly talk about everything and anything, she very rarely took her own advice. She didn’t like to think she was troubling people, especially someone she’d only just met. “I used to work for the Ministry.” There was little she could expand on that even if she’d wanted to. The Department of Mysteries had been her life, it had taken many years to prove herself and work to be there and it hadn’t disappointed. Since her youth she’d quested for knowledge, for understanding and being paid for the privileged had seemed like perfection. The curses that had been put into place to ensure none of her fellow unspeakable’s could discuss what they were working on or divulge any state secrets were rather impressive, she supposed she was lucky, if she’d been working there but fifty years previously her memories would have been obliviated the moment she mentioned her resignation. She would miss her old work, but she certainly wouldn’t miss the Ministry that governed it.

“But, well there were political differences, life and some drama.” She gave a roll of her eyes and a light smile that lacked the previous intensity of her others. It was rather embarrassing just how cliché her story was. The work-a-holic wife surprised to find her husband with the young secretary, instead of being brave and proud enough to face her colleagues that had clearly known choosing instead to run away almost to the opposite side of the country. Still even now in the middle of a horribly messy divorce she didn’t like to discuss the tale with those that knew let alone anyone else, perhaps from her own shame and humiliation in it all, perhaps from a bizarre lingering desire to not smear her husbands name even after all that had passed between them. “I decided it was time for a fresh start, Pomona suggested I speak to Professor Dumbledore – he was very kind, and here I am.”


((Note: So sorry for the lateness))

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It had to be an indication of just how much Oliver seemed to have changed that Esme’s comment about Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup last year could actually still surprise him. He really hadn’t been to the trophy room yet to check! He hadn’t even given it a second thought! But now that he knew, he felt his chest swelling with pride and his blood sing with some kind of happiness he hadn’t felt in quite a while. Ah, how proud he was of them! His old team, carrying on the legacy he had given them, winning the Quidditch Cup once again. He would have to congratulate them eventually, especially Harry and Noah, probably the only ones who were still left of the team he knew. All the others must have graduated by now. But then he reminded himself that he ought to be a little more neutral from now on concerning the Quidditch Games. His heart might still beat for Gryffindor, but should he ever call a game he would have to put all these preferences and feelings aside and focus on being objective, purely set on the game. He hoped he would be able to do it, but then, that was still some time off in the future, he could worry about that then, and now still be proud of his old team. Maybe he could sneak by the training sometime? He didn’t want to be obtrusive of course, but he really would like to see what had changed.

“Well, true”, he agreed with a slight smirk. “Hufflepuff should up their game for competition a little. Always Gryffindor-Slytherin really loses its appeal after some time. Maybe… maybe you as the new Head of House could find some new…incentives to make it work better?” Only a few seconds later he realized how suggestive his words might come across, even though he hadn’t meant them that way in the slightest. Brushing a hand through his already slightly tangled her in unease, he hastily added: “Sorry, that… that came out totally wrong… I wasn’t… okay, forget what I just said, will you? I don’t think I could put it a different way without confusing you even more.” He gave an awkward shrug. “I was never one for words I guess, words that weren’t Quidditch related at least.”

She had worked for the ministry? Frankly, he didn’t think she looked that kind of person, but then, how would he know really? He had steered clear from the Ministry to his best abilities for some reasons he couldn’t quite define. Just that he didn’t like the place much. And he also had never been interested in the petty quibbling of politics. So a short “Ah…” was all he said for the moment when she talked about political differences having been one reason for her to leave. Well, he could roughly fathom what she might be talking about, since the last year had seen impossible instability, uproar and changes. Cornelius Fudge had been unwilling to admit the Dark Lord and with him the Dark Times could be back for another round and had launched a smear campaign against Harry Potter and Dumbledore. Oliver, knowing them both well enough to realize he rather trusted them than the Minister for Magic, but he had still tried to block most of his worries out, immerging himself fully into the Quidditch World. That had been a mistake, truly. Yet another one.

“I’m sorry for drama”, he offered with an uneasy smile. “I hope things are looking up for you now that you’re here. They certainly are for me, at least I think so. I’m not here long enough to judge that yet.” He really wasn’t the expert on pep-talk, that much was for sure. But Oliver would not let that inability stop him. He had to try and be social, right? It was really a horrible image to think of, waking up one day in the future realizing that the only thing you had a relation to was your broom. How could he have let it come this far?!
“I couldn’t imagine Hogwarts without Dumbledore’s kindness”, he agreed wholeheartedly. “He might seem like an old doter to those who don’t understand him, but he’s brilliant as well as having a heart of gold. There are not many people like that out there.”

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If there was any innuendo in his words it completely flew over Esme's head who had already lost herself to pondering the suggestion. Incentives were a good idea, she could ensure there was a reward for good practices, skilled performance on the field or good sportsmanship. Though housepoints may come across as bias if the other head of houses didn't give similarly and then there was the danger some of the students may turn more of their attention to the games to seek the rewards then their academic studies. She would have to have a think on this one. Her mind was dragged back to earth at the sound of his fumbling words. How that sounded? The realisation of his words and how they could be construed deeply entertained the older witch, who instead of blushing and gasping as it seemed the young assistant expected gained a rather wicked smile, breaking into a laugh as he attempted to apologise. She had always had a rather naughty sense of humour, the type that giggled over dirty jokes, something she'd have to do her best to keep hidden infront of the students.

“I think Professor Snape might get abit suspicious if my team tried to win that desperately.” She winked with a egotism so out of character it was clear she had to be joking. She chuckled at him lightly. “Well I think your doing fine. It's usually me who struggles. Incentives could definitely work, perhaps a common room party if a match is won, or a extra trip to Hogsmeade rather then their head of house.” She grinned, attempting to reassure when he admitted he felt he struggled with words, who didn't when they were straight out of school. She hadn't noticed in the slightest, though she was often so far off in the clouds she missed some of the social cues others picked up on.

I hope things are looking up.
China blue eyes turned away from her colleague to Hogwarts for a long moment, surveying the watch tower. “I think they are.” Esme confirmed turning her attention back to him with a light smile. Hogwarts was beautiful, she adored her days in the greenhouses pottering about with plants she could only have dreamt of owning, had found most of the students were actually interested in their studies. Still every week a letter arrived with a harsh reminder of her past, every morning she awoke alone and felt a horrible ache for what was missing. A horrible ache that she had done the wrong thing. A conversation in her own head usually convinced her again it had been the right decision during her morning coffee. Hogwarts had easily become her home again, hopefully the yearning for everything else left behind would be forgotten eventually to.

She nodded in agreement when he mentioned the headmaster. There certainly wasn't anyone like Albus Dumbledore. She had alot of time for the old headmaster who had always been kind to her. Even as a child, breaking the rules and pranking people he'd only ever offered her a chocolate lime and sent her on her way with a amused sparkle in those piercing blue eyes. Though regardless of how well humoured he always seemed it had striked Esme long ago that he may beneath it all be rather... sad, the existence of someone so brilliant who everyone relied upon and blamed when things went wrong must be a lonely one.

Realising that she had spaced out to her own thoughts somewhat she promptly snapped her attention back to Oliver. I think it's difficult for anyone to not feel at peace in Hogwarts. So – tell me more about Oliver! There's Quiddich and Gryffindors – girlfriend? Parents?” She asked, not at all seeming to realise how forward her line of questioning was and that some might deem it rude. The more socially acceptable side of her mind kicked in quickly, harshly informing her she needed to give the younger man a change to escape her questions if he so desired. She glanced down once again at the strange watch like contraption. “Ah I'm sorry i'm holding you up, you were heading down to the Quiddich pitch right?”

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Oh great Merlin be thanked, she was not taking any offense as it seemed! That would have been the day, him ruining one of his rare attempts on a real and normal conversation that way, he could almost see it before his inner eye. But no, thankfully the danger was averted for now, and he even found a slightly mischievous grin inside him as she turned it into a joke. Oh yes, Snape was always ready to suspect foul play somewhere – unless Slythering was involved of course. Oliver sometimes still could feel a hint of anger bubbling up inside him, when he thought about how bias the Slytherin Head of House sometimes had been towards his fosterlings, especially when it came to Quidditch. Oliver could name quite a few incidents where it had looked more like he was favoring the team more than was proper as a teacher who should be neutral. He himself, he vowed, would try to never let his love for Gryffindor cloud his judgement. It might be a hard lesson to learn, but he would at least try so no one could call him out on handing out privileges that were unearned.“Oh, we really don’t want to have Snape suspicious now, do we? He could try to slip something in your drink, Potions Master that he is”, he joked, hoping she wouldn’t take offense in him slandering their mutual colleague a little. It was a thing he just was too used to still from his student times, but then it might be inappropriate for who he was now.

“But an extra Hogsmeade weekend might be a very good incentive, and something that could definitely be arranged for”, he continued, nodding. “And you really think you’re struggling with conversations? Seriously, I wouldn’t have noticed, and that’s not meant as flattery.” Flattery, Oliver really didn’t think he could even do it. If you didn’t learn that in younger years, you’d end up pretty bad in it for the rest of your life. It was far better to try and be as genuine as you could, and just say nothing, if you couldn’t say anything nice that was honest. That attitude might not gain you any friends, but at least there was a difference – or so he thought, he wasn’t an exper on anything concerning that after all – between being honest and being unfeeling and rash, not caring if the words you said offended others.

He let her gather her thoughts for a bit, after all, usually it was that longer consideration would breed a more genuine and deliberate answer. Oliver didn’t want to intrude on her personal life, hence why he had not been asking further and kept his question more like a well-wish than anything, giving her space to elaborate or not, whatever she preferred. He wouldn’t know the way her thoughts had been wandering, but she couldn’t be too discontent with her current life, when she said things were looking up for her here. Who wouldn’t want to be at Hogwarts after all?! It was such a marvellous place, and even though he couldn’t have imagined having talents for anything else but a Flying Teacher in the future, he was still glad they had taken him on. Things just felt… right in Hogwarts. It always gave you the feeling of being just… at home. “I’m glad they do”, he assured her, but left it at that. They had only just met, he had no right to inquire further of what her problems exactly where. They were personal life drama, and that should tell him enough to stay off it.

Oliver was completely taken by surprise as she suddenly shifted the subject to him. She wanted to know more about him?! For whatever reason?! A part of him genuinely wanted to agree as she seemed to backpaddel on her own boldness, saying he had places to be. Oh yes, he had…and the old Oliver would not have hesitated a second and excused himself. The new one though, the one he was working on establishing, told him this was exactly what he needed. Accepting someone might show interest in you, and going through with it, even if it meant he might be out of his comfort zone. So, instead of bidding her goodbye, he stood his ground and actually considered the questions she had been asking. “No girlfriend, no”, he answered, shaking his head. “I fear I never thought I needed one until now. Quidditch was my only love. But yes, I do have parents still, they live in Scotland. I also have an elder brother, Robert. And my family is quite close-knit, being part of the MacKenzie clan.”

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The image of Severus Snape sneaking around in his black robes dropping things into people’s drinks was both disconcerting and rather hilarious. She had yet to meet most of her colleagues yet, including Severus though she had already spotted him several times sweeping through the corridors with that ever so serious expression and had to stop herself humming villainous theme tunes for him from the muggle films her father has shown her, what was that one from the space films? The imperial march? “What a terrifying idea.” She laughed lightly. “I hadn’t thought about the potions, remind me to never annoy Professor Snape.”

Esme smiled brightly back at him in thanks when he assured conversationally she was doing well and he wasn’t just flattery, he might well not be saying that by the time she was finished she was sure, she had a habit of playing 21 questions without informing anyone else the game was afoot. “Thank you. Perhaps we’re both just having a good day.” She suggested. Perhaps it was that they both now had no choice but to talk to teenagers for a living, that had to at least help the social skills somewhat.

She listened with an honest interest as he answered her rather prying questions, many people in her experience would have backed off with a rather disturbed expression. Esme liked people. She liked meeting new people, hearing their stories and experiences, there was a lot that could be learnt from others and the things they’d seen and done. “Ah that old chestnut.” She nodded knowingly when he explained that Quidditch had always come first. “I was the same with my career at the Ministry for a long time.” Esme admitted without any shame. She had worked hard to get to where she’d been, the department of mysteries accepted only from within the Ministry, it had taken many years of jumping through hoops to prove herself worthy. And by the time she’d gained her goal she’d already missed many the opportunities to make friends and meet people other then colleagues. Even after several encounters with Gabriel Turner she had for a long time been unwilling to consider settling into a relationship when her career came first.

“You’re still young Oliver, you have plenty of time to find someone.” She offered, knowing she was probably taking liberties and well over stepping the line now. “I on the other hand, will just have to buy myself some cats. The crazy cat lady of the Hogwarts greenhouses – I think it has a ring to it.” There was no sign of self pity in her words, merely poking fun out of herself light heartedly. She knew she wasn’t exactly old, but recently she often felt it, many people her age went from serious relationships to finding another but… well that just didn’t really seem a viable option any time soon. Perhaps she would be better on her own for some time, able to focus once more on her career, time to heal and move on.

“How lovely.” Esme meant it sincerely as he spoke of his family. She had never had a sibling growing up and had always wanted a brother to play with. “It must be nice to have a brother and such an extended family. The Christmas’ must be huge! It was just me and my parents growing up, but we’re very close.” The opportunity to finally have a good chat with one of her colleagues was deeply pleasing to Esme. They would after all be stuck in a castle together despite it’s grand size for the best part of the year until they quit or retired, they were people you’d see everyday it seemed much more preferable to get to know them and if possible make friends rather then keep everything professional, it seemed at somewhere like Hogwarts that could be a very lonely decision. And she’d already had too many years focusing solely on her career and closing herself to people for anymore lonely years.

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The idea of being subject to Severus Snape’s power of brewage really wasn’t a comfortable one at all. As a student, he hadn’t really thought about these kinds of things – really, he hadn’t thought about much else than Quidditch most of the time anyway, even though he had of course still put some effort in classes – and still he hoped that most of the things you heard being said about Professor Snape were not true. He would never willingly poison someone, right?! Wasn’t there some codex Potion Masters had to abide by, just like healers? Or wasn’t there?! Oh dear, now he had opened up Pandorra’s box of worries for himself it seemed.”There surely are men it’d be healthier and easier to cross”, he tried to joke his worries away, “but then, I can’t see you doing too much that would really make him stoop to such measures. As long as you don’t tell him he looks absolutely dashing in women’s clothes…” He didn’t know if she might get that joke, since it had happened in HIS last year and she was obviously older. But it had been all over the school how a boggart practice had shown Snape in women’s clothes, and maybe that had been also transported as a little inside joke into the Hogwarts’ staff. It would amuse him, if that was the case.

Oh, but that was quite interesting now! Had this young woman really been such a workaholic? It didn’t look that way, but then you couldn’t always judge people by their appearance, that was a lesson he had learned early on. He couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued, finally stumbling over someone who had been as obsessed with something like he himself, and still lived to tell. It’s not like he could have this kind of conversation with his old team mates. They still WERE obsessed, after all, and it didn’t look like anyone would snap them out of it in the near future. But this wasn’t only about him, it was about her as well. He wondered what kind of Ministry job she had been having and why she hadn’t elaborated on it earlier. Usually, people working in the Ministry were all too ready to point out their rank and department as soon as they mentioned they were working for it at all.
“May I ask what exactly you were working that got you so hooked? Or is it… unspeakable?” That was a common pun in the Wizarding World, but he wasn’t entirely sure if she’d really been one of them. Could you even get out of their program and just start doing something else? But then, no one knew what they were doing anyway..

Ha, of course he was still young, only nineteen and already felt like he was going through some kind of midlife-crisis. He wouldn’t know if there was ever someone catching his attention, girl-wise, though it surely might be nice. To have someone by your side you shared your happiness and your troubles with, more than with anyone else. He had never dated before though, and if some girls might have been interested in him, even during school, he wouldn’t have noticed and couldn’t remember. There had been a few good female friends he had had of course, Iris Wolfe being the one leaving the longest lasting impression, and then of course his old female team mates, Alicia, Angelina and Katie, but they had stayed just friends, and he even had cut all ties with them after leaving Hogwarts, which he now regretted. This was not how friendships were supposed to work.
”I don’t think you’d have to do that though”, he contradicted her with a smile. “I’m sure there’d be more than one guy happy to save you from that rather sad fate.” Whyever not, after all, she seemed a thoroughly nice person and wasn’t bad to look at either. Even a man like Oliver could see and appreciate that.

A wistful grin crossed his face for a moment as he thought about the indeed rather lively Christmas parties, though to be fair, if they were talking about closest family, there was only him and Robert and their parents, he didn’t have that many siblings. Yet, when the Woods celebrated Christmas, they always did it with the MacKenzie clan, and clans knew how to have a good time! They could get a little melancholic in the end, what with ‘Auld Lang Syne’ being repeatedly sung or played over the whole of the holidays and especially ending with New Years Eve, but apart from that, it was always something he loved to return to.
”You should see a Highland Clan Christmas Gathering once”, he told her. “It’s the best Christmas I could ever imagine. But the closeness thing DOES get lost in that big crowd, so I’d like to have a small Christmas once maybe, like you seem to have.”