Of Tea Leaves and Tinctures Pv|Desislava Nenovsky FINISHED

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Date: 04/14/25 | Time: Afternoon | CC:#5B8899

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Desislava rubbed her eyes as she looked up from the homework she was grading. The lovely day was beckoning to her and the mysteries of the Hogwarts Lake were calling to loudly within her soul. The air of the Scottish Highlands was too dry for her and she missed the sleek feeling of diving through a barrel in the waves of the Pacific Ocean. If she wanted to swim it would have to be in the waters of the Great Lake.

She wasn't stupid. She knew that the Lake wasn't a safe place to go venturing without some sort of protection, but she felt that she was capable of handling it. She had braved the deep ocean wandless once she had gained the ability, and if she could face the ocean then a lake would be nothing.

And so she found herself wriggling into one of her silicone mermaid tails and rolling into the water. It was frigid, far more than the waters from around the Pacifc. She could feel her fingers and toes freezing inside her tail but a quick warming charm did the trick, letting her warm up spectacularly quickly. Keeping her eyes peeled, she moved deeper and deeper into the lake, observing the natural beauty of the waters. She saw several creatures as she swam around, including varieties of fish, several grindylow which she narrowly avoided, and a very shy Giant Squid who she managed to get just close enough to, to give a gentle pet across it's large head.

She truthfully was searching for the Merfolk society that she had read about in her studies. She did not often get the chance to communicate with Selkies and to do so would add several chapters of notes for her upcoming book on Merfolk across the world. However the Selkies seemed to elude her for the moment and she was beginning to grow tired from the swimming strain that her tail was placing on her core. It was hard not having a strong current to help guide her as she swam now. She would need to get used to this.

Desislava broke the water and flipped her hair back rubbing the water off her face. The Bubblehead Charm she had placed upon herself popped quickly and she looked towards the shore. Someone was loitering near the exit of the lake that she would need to pull herself out on in order to take off her tail. She hadn't quite mastered the ability to apparate, not that you could on the Hogwarts grounds, but if she could she would have just swam up to the shore and apparated into her office.

Still, if she wanted to get into her room and warm up with a delicious Moorea Volcano, which was a mixture of hot water and coriander syrup, under her favorite blanket with a good book, she needed to get to shore. Nevermind who it was that was standing there. If it was a student she would simply instruct them to leave her alone that way she could throw her sweatshirt and sweatpants back on over her bathing suit.

Desislava took a deep breath and kicked as she swam into shore. Her core was extremely sore and the longer she stayed in the water, the worse it would feel in the morning. She made it closer to the shore, where she didn't have to kick as hard and could crawl with her arms up the shale and pebbles that lead into the lake. She panted a little out of breath as she hauled herself out of the water, her blond hair sticking to her face and lake muck all over her tail. Drat, this was a brand new one. Or at least "newer." She had gotten it as a 'congratulations Desi' present for herself when she got her job at Hogwarts.

The slick muck from the mud and kelp was dirtying up the silky blue and white of her tail as she let the water lap over her while she caught her breath.

She looked over towards where the person was standing, hoping to maybe crawl out of the lake and shimmy out of the very much stuck to her legs silicone tail without drawing too much attention to herself. It was 'giving early evolution' as the kids would say.
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There was movement in the water.

Not the idle shimmer of wind or routine breach of a grindylow skimming the surface one might assume. This was far heavier, purposeful. The lake, still and grey beneath an overcast sky opened up in a sudden break of motion as someone or something emerged.

Samuel stood at the water's edge, flat stone idle in his pocket. He hadn't throw the rock.

Instead he was now watching.

A figure arose from the lake's depth with unhurried effort. Her form cast a long rippled in the otherwise placed mirror of the water. Woman, Blonde. Upper body human. She seemed exhausted. Soaked, breath ragged with exertion. Below the waist however her form turned ambiguous. Something far more rare and less mundane.

A tail or a fin, he wasn't sure.

He blinked once behind his dark tinted sunglasses. Not from disbelief but for recalibration.

The appendage glistened in dull light, dragging lake muck and strands of kelp and whatever with it as the blonde woman hauled herself forward onto the shore. Silken blue and white, perhaps manufactured. Likely reinforced with embedded ridges to simulate musculature. A recreational tool at best. High fidelity. She seemed to be struggling against it now. Was it the tightness of the seal resisting her attempts at removal?

Curious.

Samuel approached the vicinity slowly, the rhythm of his boots across the damp stone were deliberate and without stealth. He had no intention to spook this woman. His white shirt with it's sleeves rolled to the elbow remained unsullied for now. No wand in hand; there was no need. He wasn't threatened afterall. Merely interested.

He stopped a measured distance from her. Close enough for conversation. Far enough to not intrude.

"Are you in need of assistance?"

His voice cut through the stillness present between them. Like the edge of a blade; cool, neutral and surgical. No emphasis, no urgency, no softness.

He did not expect an answer immediately. She seemed out of breath and was perhaps unsure of what or who he was. Samuel took a pause as a moment to observe.

Her movements were slow, she was not in distress. Just mildly hindered. Overexerted perhaps? The tail clung to her legs like second skin, streaked with algae and sediments.

She was no student.

Her visible age placed her outside of that range immediately, as did the cast of bubblehead charm he had seen her come out of. Used recently, impractical for long dives, risky.

His gaze lingered on the tail again.

"Why not use Gillyweed?" he asked, words calm and almost conversational. "It's more efficient. No need for air charms. No risk of mold accumulation either and it allows for full mobility. Unless of course, your goal was otherwise."

He looked down at her, the lenses of his sunglasses making it difficult to determine if he was studying her eyes or the way lake clung to her.

"Was this for leisure?" he asked. "Or research?"

He allowed the question to hang there, suspended in air like dew.

His curiosity wasn't born out of empathy. He did not ask this to understand her, or to bond. He asked because it was data. Information. Anomalous behaviour required classification. But she did not need to know that.

Hogwarts in it's first week had already begun to challenge the framework Samuel had experienced in the ministry. Here, people swam in lakes with false tails. For reasons they did not explain. Peculiar.

He had not met much of the faculty yet.

He preferred it that way.

But this variable had entered his field of vision, unprompted and vivid. Samuel did not look away.

"I'm Samuel" he offered finally, not as introduction but as means of explaining his presence. "Exploring the grounds, collecting samples."

"Didn't expect company."

His gaze returned to her, still trying to peel the tail free. It looked clingy and stubbornly stuck to her, further suctioned by pressure and lake water. Inefficient build.

"If you continue to struggle" he said evenly, "you may develop contusion along the femoral line."

He made no move to assist. She had not asked and he would not assume so.

Still, he did not leave.

"I can stand here until you're finished," he added. "Or if you'd rather, I can remove myself."

Not generosity. Simply the offering of options, clinically and without attachment. If she wanted privacy, she had it. If she wanted help, she could say so. If she wanted nothing; well he was well practiced in delivering that as well.

The air around lake remained still. Only the occasional lap of water against stone gave any indication that time was moving forward.

He waited

And he watched.

Because something about this peculiar encounter, however irrational and however absurd, felt like a question he had not yet learned how to ask.

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Date: 05/12/25 | Time: Afternoon | CC:#5B8899

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Desislava looked up at the voice who was speaking to her. It was curt, too the point, and not at all the voice of someone whom she recognized. She had to place her hand over her eyes in order to look at him without the light of the sun reflecting off his glasses and beaming into her eyes. He was definitely not a student, he had to be either a professor or perhaps one of the towns people from Hogsmeade. The man stood with a strict stance that matched his blonde hair and tiny sunglasses. His attire matched his base demeanor and despite his offer to help, she could tell that perhaps it was a struggle to extend his hand. She gave him a polite smile before sitting up.

"Good afternoon. I am perfectly fine thank you." She said as she rested against the palms of her hand. She gazed out into the lake where the ripples of movement seemed to funnel their way towards her as the water gently slapped the material of her tail.

"Isn't this a gorgeous lake? You must understand my meaning if you travese here too. Desislava explained as she flicked her tail fin up and down in the remnants of water that reached her. Call it silly, she couldn't help it. The periwinkle color of her tail bore a striking appearance against the murky colors that contrasted against her.

The man asked if she had been exploring for her leisure or if it was for research. She flashed an excited smile towards him as her eyes lit up.

"I daresay both. It has been far too dry for me and I required a dip. But I suppose it has furthered my research. I am a studier of Merfolk and Mermish. What brings you to such a body of water?" She asked as she managed to unstick some of her legs from the silicone. She needed a more powerful Slippery Jinx next time, this one was far too dry. The man made a comment about taking care not to strain herself but she knew better. She had been swimming with silicone tails for almost six years now.

Desi pulled her legs out from the silicone tail with the material making a loud "shuck!" as she did so. With a sigh of relief, she stretched her legs out and grabbed her towel from her bag that she had brought. She ran it over her face, over her legs to remove the rest of the slippery jinx residue, and finally through her hair. She could feel his eyes on her as he tried to explain why she should be careful but it didn't really matter to her. This was a shocking discovery to make for her wizarding cohorts. Muggle technology- but in less of a technical stand point.

Her mermaid tails were some of her prized possessions. They were a part of her now and she loved the way that it integrated her into her beloved bodies of water. She felt so at home when she was strapped into the fin and soaring through the water like a ray. Her hair had turned from straight into a wavy wet mess but still retained her golden color. The man -Samuel- had finally introduced himself and explained he was collecting samples of the lake and plants around them. Desislsava held her hand up politely.

"Desislava Nenovsky. I am the Divination Professor, but you may call me Desi." She said as she gave the ground a pat. "Do sit-"

She hoped he would sit with her and interact. It's not often people had the ability to so casually speak to her without her having to speak first.

"I am researching by the way. Though today I did not find what it was I was looking for, I did fin our Giant Squid though, at least a tentacle. It is very docile. As for your bubblehead question? It's part of my research. Setting boundaries with merfolk, I am more successful with the Bubblehead Charm than trying to come across as a magically modified mermaid. They typically trust me more." Desislava explained as she fished out something from around her neck. It was a necklace she had been given as a parting gift from the Siren colony that lived off the shores of Moorea. It was a necklace of shells and fish scales with a small dried sand dollar urchin in the middle. One of her most prized posessions and something she desperately wished to use to unlock the secrets of merfolk culture.

"We don't have Sirens though. Our merfolk here are Selkies." Desislava cheerfully informed him as she crossed her legs and stretched her back. Моята дума, this was the worst pre-core pain she'd felt in a long while. Maybe the spellwork around her tail was wearing off. It was too heavy again.


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The woman looked up at Samuel, sunlight glinting harshly off his heavy tinted sunglasses. She raised her hand to block the reflection and smiled at him. Her smile was polite, practiced perhaps? Not flustered or overly warm. That was the right tone of interaction Samuel preferred.

"Good Afternoon. I am perfectly fine, thank you."

He nodded once in acknowledgement of her words. Not agreement, and let his gaze shift to the lake beyond. The synthetic tail that encased her legs continued to shimmer faintly as she rested herself on the shore, water lapping against the fabricated scales. The craftsmanship however was detailed, textured and realistic. Not magical in nature however. Muggle fabrication, a choice that would raise several questions were it not Samuel here and instead someone else.

She flicked her fin, half still in the shallows. The colors were a soft periwinkle which contrasted unnaturally with the silt and stone.

"Isn't this a gorgeous lake?" she asked. "You must understand my meaning if you traverse here too."

His reply came, just as most of his replies did. Without delays or lies.

"It is a lake." He told her. "I value the flora and fauna it cultivates but I've never paused to admire it's beauty before."

There was no hostility in the statement, just clarity. He spoke only with a little more emotion than one reading confidently from a ledger: exact, impersonal and more than often, Correct.

After a brief silence, he added further, "It has been a long time since I walked along this lake. Years have passed. Since I last approached these waters, It's not the same Lake nor am I the Same man."

His gaze lingered on the treeline present across the lake as if he tried trying to remember the conditions under which he last stood on these shores. He did not elaborate anymore, there was no need to.

When she explained that her swim served both professional and personal purpose, he gave a small, perceptible nod to the woman. Practicality was a virtue Samuel had always respected.

"I am here for observation and collection," he said. "A number of botanical and subaquatic reagents grow near this lake. A few filament-spores I intend to culture in a controlled environment shall the Herbology professor allow. I am attempting to research if their properties shift based on season and magical saturation."

As she began removing her artificial tail, he did not move. The process looked practical but inelegant; strenuous even. She clearly had experience with it but the silicone was sure to resist. He watched for a few seconds, then turned his head away when it became evident she would need to proceed with this further. He had no interest in witnessing anything more for now unrelated to research.

Her use of muggle-made aquatic equipment continued to intrigue him, if only in the sense that it raised logistical questions. Why not magical alternatives? Transfiguration or animagus transformation could've come in handy her. But as long as it did not interfere with his work, what eccentricities others entertained were of no consequence to him.

She introduced herself shortly after,

"Desislava Nenovsky. I am the Divination Professor, but you may call me Desi."

He gave a short nod in return. " Sauber, Samuel Sauber. Potions Professor."

When she patted the ground beside her, inviting him to site. He hesitated for only a moment before lowering himself. The rocks somewhat dug through the fabric of his trousers but the discomfort was irrelevant. He seated himself with posture of someone who did not often rest, but one who knew how to make use of stillness offered to him.

She spoke up once again, this time her words carried information of the Giant Squid. The elusive being of the lake, often dismissed by some academics as exaggerated student folklore. But not by Samuel, he knows it exists.

"I know about it, never seen it fully" he said. "I would like to observe the creature in full some day. Not a tentacle breaching surface, but the whole of it."

Her explanation of her use of Bubblehead Charm caught his attention more sharply than he had expected. She explained her rationale; trust, not mimicry. Boundary setting was her intent not imitation.

"An unusual approach," he murmured. "Most would seek to appear like the merfolk. You instead wish to be seen as other, different, but consistent. Fascination and perhaps more honest."

It was a rare comment. His approval, thinly veiled as analysis.

He saw her reaching for a necklace, which drew it into his view. Samuel's eyes flicked to it: shells, glinting fish scales and an urchin. Seemed tribal, he wasn't sure. He did not interrupt her handling of it but catalogued each element with trained precision.

"Did you see any merfolk today?" he asked abruptly. "Or grindylows?"

Her answer came, and he absorbed it with silent focus. He reached into the inner pockets of his coat and produced a small, lacquered notebook. He jotted down a few notes of his own.

"Grindylows have been unusually dormant in these waters, according to reports. I'm trying to verify that."

Then a little quietly, "Merfolk, however...their territorial shifts are largely undocumented."

He paused, then offered, not flatly anymore but sincerity and psedu niceness dripping from his voice: "If you're willing, I would like to review your research. Particularly their response to spells cast underwater. Their aversion or lack thereof to human magical constructs."

He folded his notebook, putting it back in his trousers.

"You're taking an unconventional approach. That makes your work worth following."

A small smile followed his shift in tone. He remained seated beside her, watching the lake, this time not with a scientist's precision but perhaps with a bystander's admiration. And maybe the faintest sense of return.

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Date: 04/14/25 | Time: Afternoon | CC:#5B8899

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She watched as Samuel took meticulous notes on the things she said. It was interesting to her in a way, almost as if he was so worried about being left out of the information. Her eyes looked over him with methodical curiosity as she observed him making his own observations about her. He seemed to have many questions involving what it was that she was researching, asking them in rapid successionand wanting to know exactly what it was that she was intending to work on with the fakeness of her tail and her bubblehead charm.

True, she could use gillyweed to come across as a more "natural" mermaid. But this would raise questions from the beasts. While she wasn't well versed in Selkie customs, she did know that by rule of thumb, lone merfolk were considered to be less trusted by the colonies. If she was appearing as a faux mermaid, it may not bode well for her. And it was against her principles to use magic against any of the species.

She informed him that no, she hadn't seen any grindylows thank goodness, and that yes it would be marvelous to see the Giant Squid in it's full glory.

"I think to do so, I would need to swim around the windows out of the Slytherin Common Room. It lurks quite far down in the depths." She explained as she fished around for a snack from her bag. Swimming for such a long time always gave her stomach a hunger and she'd learned to make sure she had something packed in her bag to curb her appetite when she got done. It wasn't much, just a bag of trail mix. Nuts, dried fruit, and chocolate chips. She made it in bulk and snacked on it whenever she was peckish but not super hungry.

"Granola?" She asked holding the bag out to him. She figured if they were going to be sitting and talking together that she could at least offer him a snack.

"Unfortunately I saw no merfolk. This is not unusual. Its possible that they have been farther away than where I swam too. It is quite difficult work swimming with an assistive device such as this. It is a muggle contraption I happened upon when I was visiting one of their "enclosures" for aquatic animals. A woman was swimming with the fish, and I was bewitched. Since then I have been swimming with these silicone tails." She explained as she ran her hand over the periwinkle color of her tail. The second skin feeling was so natural to her but to others it looked strange.

She gently brushed away some of the muck that had come over her tail as she had pulled herself out of the water. Normally she would have cleaned them in her bathroom in her dorm but the dirt was bothering her. And like the merfolk, she did want to show off the scales, as to make a good impression on those she had met.

Samuel seemed to be impressed with what it was she was detailing to him as he asked to review her work. She beamed, far too excitedly, and nodded.

"Yes. I would like to show you. I am a Seer, but this is my life's work. I have have studied Mermaids and culture since I was young. All the way back in my home town of Pomorie, Bulgaria. I speak Mermish, though it would be agony to your ears to listen out here since we are not underwater. But I am fascinated by their culture and their existence." Desislava rambled as she fished in her bag once again for her own small notebook that she herself had full of her own notes. She passed it to him, already opened to a page where she had a rough sketch of a Siren that she had "befriended" back in the French Polynesian waters. Her name was almost unpronounciable but the beast had agreed to being nicknamed so long as she never heard the name. Desislava had nicknamed her Очарователно Ocharovalteno or "Val" for short, which in english, translated to "fascinating." Sirens, she had learned, were quite vain creatures and once they realized that their voices had limited effect on an individual, they would lose some of their vanity and become slightly more responsive.

"See here, I detail what it was that we speak about. It was hard since I had candlewax in my ears to keep myself from falling prey to their voices. But we learned to speak. Val gave me this." Desislava explained as she both pointed to her necklace and turned the page over where more notes on habitat, and routine.

"Sorry. I tend to ramble. You are a researcher too yes? You are a... plant studier?" She asked, remembering he had mentioned something about collecting samples and wanting to work in one of the greenhouses.
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| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: @| 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Samuel Sauber |
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Sauber's pen scratched softly against his notebook as he jotted down some final observations before her movement caught his eye. She was rummaging through her bag, this time it resulted in her producing a bag which appeared to be filled with homemade trail mix.

"Granola?" she asked, holding it out without ceremony.

He paused.

A trivial offer, by most standards but not meaningless. Food when shared voluntarily, often suggested the invitation to a temporary alliance or mutual detente. He studied her gesture in silence for half a second too longer than what most would deem polite, upon which he moved on.

He reached the cuffs of his gloves, stylized dragon hide gloves, peeled them off one by one, tugging each finger joint before drawing them free. His hands beneath were pale and long-fingered, faintly stained with ink at the tips.

Folding them precisely in half, he sled them into his pockets before reaching out to take a modest handful from the bag.

"Thank you", he said, crisp but since in his words. He inspected the contents briefly; nuts, raisins, fragments of chocolates perhaps and then nodded faintly as he took a bite. It was homemade, practical. Swimming in cold water burns through glycogen reserves. Most students would fail to compensate for that. She, clearly, does not.

He consumed his portion slowly, not without enjoyment however but calculation. Like a man accustomed to utility over indulgence. She spoke again, casually, and her mention of Pomorie, quiet, nearly a throwaway line ignited a neuron in his braze.

His gaze swept back to her.

"Pomorie?"he echoed, the word landing flat and clinical in his British baritone. An internal recalibration took place in his mind. A new data point for him to explore and prode further had just been discovered.

Then, after a beat, he responded. In clear and studied Bulgarian:

"Говорите български?"
You speak Bulgarian?"

His accent was faintly imperfect, slightly Germanic in cadence, but clearly intelligible to a speaker. Not a tourist's memorization but the efforts of disciplined student.

"Unanticipated," he added in English. "Though not illogical. Your fascination with aquatic species align with proximity and seems so much more apparent now."

He paused, the corner of his mouth pulling not into a smile, but a brief flicker of acknowledgement. He was about to share parts of his life, just as she had done moments ago. This was a rare moment for Samuel. Vulnerability, was non existent for him.

"I've lived most of my adult life in Britain." he continued. "But I spent part of my childhood and many of my compulsory vacations in Germany. My Father was German. He worked from his lab with my mother. Migration was routine. Sentiment was discouraged, I learned to travel light."

His voice had the detached tones of a man giving a report and not reminiscing about the happen in his past. Even now, as Desi detailed her siren encounter, he had nothing sentimental to add. But he listened, carefully. Very few truly ever did that.

He turned his attention to her notebook as he handed it over to him. Fingers gliding along the edge of pages. The ink was dense with notation, diagrams and what not. In Sam's eyes, her work showed a confident and trained observer rather than a formally instructed child.

"Your methodology is unconventional, but does not appear to be unsound." he observed. "Pardon but, wax in ears sounds primitive at first glance, yet effective. A barrier is a barrier after all."

He traced a line of text with a fingertip. Brows furrowed at all this extra data he was getting exposed to.

She was no hobbyist. This was conducted fieldwork with systemic intentions. Observed, recorded and even refined over time. That spoke to Samuel's scientific instinct. This wasn't just academic mimicry.

When she apologized for her ramblings, Samuel lifted head fractionally.

"I prefer your information over silence." he said with finality in his tone. "Continue if you have more to offer. I will let you know when you begin wasting my time."

Her mention of his own research prompted a small yet subtle shit in his own posture. Closing her book, he returned it with deliberate care.

"I do not study plants," he clarified to her. "Not exclusively, not even primarily. I study systems. Magical, biological, ecological. Herbology is merely one model. It's useful yes, but too narrow for my tastes. Compartmentalization is for those who fear being imprecise."

There was no arrogance in his tone, only certainty. These words were not boastful, they were factual.

"I examine and research interaction. Reaction, frameworks. It can range from plants, creatures, potions and even," he said turning towards her, "People. If it operates within definable laws, I study it."

He glanced back towards the water.

"I've recently accepted the position of Potions Professor here" A pause. "It is not what I envisioned for myself. But I find the shift....instructive. Structured environments often produce different variables. I intend to observe what becomes of me here."

Another pause, heavier this time.

"I expect it to be temporary. But for now, I look forward to the changes."

His voice did not betray emotions, no excitement no hope. But there was the sense of clarity to his statements that he always carried. It was not regretful by any means. But rather honest.

Then, almost as an afterthought:

“If you do locate the Giant Squid,” he said, still writing, “I would prefer a firsthand account."


He closed his notebook with a quiet snap and looked up again.

"I’ve also collected biological samples from the lakebed. Lichen colonies.Possibly tied to merfolk nesting lines, I'm unsure. The data is preliminary. If you’re interested in comparative analysis, I may allow you to examine it."

A long beat passed before he added,

"There will be tea, and I do not mind your rambling."

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Date: 04/14/25 | Time: Afternoon | CC:#5B8899

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Hearing her native tongue delighted her. She didn't realize someone spoke Bulgarian all the way up here in Scotland. She had not been home to Pomorie in a very long time and the comfort of her home in the form of spoken word brought a smile to her face, even if Samuel was only asking out of curiosity. He mentioned being foreign as well; German, and even if his clearly methodical form of living and experience that he had of the world was dotted and crossed down to the letter, she knew he had to feel some sort of way about the comfort of original language.

She wondered if he wrote in German. If he thought in German only to translate his thoughts to English. She rarely if ever wrote in English. It was mostly Bulgarian, occasionally Tahitian when she was refreshing her memory to keep up with the local language of Moorea. However she had to transition into writing English words for her students as most of them, if not all, were only able to comprehend English and not Bulgarian, Tahitian, or whatever. Occasionally, she tried to write out Mermish but it was far too difficult to translate thought to parchment.

"You know my language?" She asked with a slight gleam in her eye. At least one of them had emotion, but Samuel seemed to be showing far more decorum than she was at the moment. She was still in her rashguard and swimsuit, sitting on the banks of the Great Lake with a mermaid tail. Quite the difference between the two.

"Bulgarian is not an easy language. No sort of language like it is. Even for German's such as yourself. But you speak it well. I am surprised." She said politely. "I speak a little Tahitian and Mermish but not any other European language."

It was a little sad to hear about his discouragement towards senitmentality. She herself knew the unfortunate feelings of having your world upheaved only to be moved again. It was that way for her when she was removed rather abruptly from Koldostorvetz and moved to Tenūsa due to her abrupt Seer declaration which she did not plan nor did she want in the moment. However she had learned to love that part of herself even if the feeling wasn't as strong when she was 13.

As he explained that she was wrong about her initial thoughts on his research, she felt a little guilty for not listening so well. He was very clearly taking an interest in her and she was just talking and trying to listen but not truly hearing what he was saying. It was not about plants apparently, but rather systemic relations. It was very intriguing to her. And she wondered what he had found in his schooling and outside life that warranted such an interest in it.

"You mentioned your own work in systems? I would like to see it. Lichen in Mermaid communities is not something I am overly confident on where it would be found but it may be around the banks which could be indicators of where they don't colonize. They're not so much "nesting" creatures as one would believe." Desislava explained as she threw over herself, the surfing poncho that she usually brought with her. It was practical, warm when she was still drenched, and covered her enough to keep anything she sat on from getting wet. It was getting quite chilly out anyway and the offer of tea from Samuel intrigued her.

"Tea sounds delightful. May I meet you in your office? I need to hang up my tail to dry in my room. Drying spells would be faster, but silicone, this muggle-made material, dries better and safer when it is hung to dry." Desislava explained as she accepted his offer for tea and to listen to her ramblings.

It wouldn't take her too long. Just a quick trip up to her tower to shower and change, as well as to grab her notes and her manuscript to bring to Samuel's office to discuss. She wondered what kind of tea he had. She hoped it wasn't something too sweet.
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Her reaction to the Bulgarian had not gone unnoticed by Samuel. He observed the natural shift in her expression with the attentiveness of a man who catalogued such things, not for emotional engagement, but for pattern recognition. An instinct Samuel had managed to sharpen over years of intelligence work. Where tone, breath, and diction often spoke more than content ever could.

"You know my language?"

"I do," Sauber said simply, in response to her surprised question. "I picked it up during work. A productive way to occupy my spare time between the essential work and research."

He attempted to speak the language with quiet efficiency; clear consonants, the right cadence, clipped without being imprecise. He was however not fluent or native, but he remained being a student who continued to study control. Just enough to be respectful to it's roots, never enough to overreach.

"Bulgarian is structurally fascinating," he added. "It was natural progression after studying Macedonian and Serbian. Cases drop, postpositions used, it's an anomaly among it's slavic relatives. Languages much like most things, reflects systems, and I prefer understanding my systems."

"I speak a little Tahitian and Mermish but not any other European language."

When she mentioned Tahitian and Mermish, his brow lifted slightly; a fraction.

"I cannot speak either," he admitted. "Tahitian remains rare even among linguists. And Mermish, we're well aware is exceedingly difficult to learn. Fewer are able to retain it in any useful capacity."

He gestured loosely with one hand, brushing damp air aside as he spoke. "The only fluent Mermish speaker I remember encountering was a researcher. Her vocal cords deteriorated after prolong fieldwork. Some argue such resonance cause stress in human anatomy."

His tone never changed. Calm. Detached. Precise.

When she responded to his research with interest, however brie, there was a flicker of something beneath the surface on his face. Not excitement, no; not in any expressive sense but engagement. Recognition that her comment had met him somewhere in his actual work.

"Yes," he said. "Systemic relationships between magical environments and communities. Networks, Lichen was a preliminary thread in my research, it's all very elementary as of now. Its behavior often suggests borderlines, not territorial claims, but reactive patterns instead. I believed merfolk colonies nested. I was incorrect, thank you.”

She expanded on the topic with observational detail and he continued listening without interrupting her. Not nodding or offering unnecessary affirmations but just hearing her, measuring her words.

"I would like to see your notes," he said plainly. "In return, mine remaid open to you. If our findings shall differ, we may identify where one of us might be misinformed. If they align, the redundancy will confirm reliability. Either outcome is preferable to untested theory."

He meant it. He did not offer anyone access to his research lightly. But his intellectual honesty compelled him. Collaboration, for Samuel was not sentimental. It was pure strategy. A reduction in his blind spots.

Her poncho went on, practical, loose fitting, well worn on her.

"Tea sounds delightful. May I meet you in your office? I need to hang up my tail to dry in my room. Drying spells would be faster, but silicone, this muggle-made material, dries better and safer when it is hung to dry."

Muggle materials often had their uses, when chosen with intention. He made no comment on the garment, but approved of her reasoning. Drying charms could compromise compound fibers. Few wizards understood that.

"Of course. Take your time," he answered. "Hang your equipment properly. I'll expect you when you arrive."

Before she could turn away, he added, almost an afterthought. "Do you have any allergies?"

His gaze did not soften nor did his tone not imply kindness. But he question was not cold, it was, in fact, the most human thing he had said during all their conversation. Concern translated into sterile language.

"I have several teas," he continued, clinically. "Black tea. Smoked oolong. Darjeeling. Loose leaf, not bagged. I do not usually serve sweeteners, but I can make exceptions."

A pause.

"If you require something else, I will attempt to locate it."

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