Welcome Party PV Alpheus Closed

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THROUGH the backdoor of the classroom, where the private Professors quarters were located, a distant whistling could be heard faintly. The quiet call from the arrival with the basket went unheard, as the whistling grew louder, until it turned into muffled singing, moments before the private door unlocked and opened.

"Dun, dun, expecto patronum, dun, dun..."

Spinning through the door, dressed in a thick bathrobe with his long blond hair up in a wrapped towel, Alpheus had his eyes closed and was grooving to the song in his head. He had clearly stepped out of a bath, in the process of changing and drying. Not far from the tall, semi-wet man, was a cape draped across the Professor's desk; and judging by the dancing shuffling in that direction, it was likely his purpose for entering the classroom.

"Do, doo, don't forget your cape, dun, dun," Alpheus continued to sing in a low mutter, making questionable music sounds with his mouth between words. He danced along, shuffling his feet, sliding on the slick stone flooring. "Dun, dun, dun, you landed a great gig with an awesome, dun, dun, bathroo--"

Alpheus stopped, eyes wide. He stared at the lady standing across the way.

"--ooooom... hey, how are you?" He said, without missing a beat, as he stood straight and raised an eyebrow. Judging by the fact the lady wasn't a teenager, Alpheus supposed he was face-to-pretty face with another Professor. "Sorry about the bathrobe, I wasn't expecting anyone until this afternoon... come in, please, come in!"

The Professor scooped up his cape from the desk, resting it over one forearm, as he motioned toward the private office behind the class. A grin crossed his face as he watched the other Professor, noticing how neatly she was dressed, and catching a whiff of the baked goods from - where he guessed - the basket in her hands...

"Make yourself comfortable in the seating area, I'll be right out," The Professor said, stepping through the backdoor and moving further through the private office area into the personal quarters. He called back from his changing area. "I'm Alpheus Wordsworth, by the way, it's a pleasure to meet you, miss...?"

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Whatever the young woman had been expecting to find on the other side of the door, the sight that greeted her, complete, it seemed, with its very own triumphant march, was not it. At the appearance of the figure, towel wrapped and in a robe of all the wrong variety, Violet gave a startled gasp and, cheeks a shade of crimson the envy of a rosebush, she spun her back to him, "Good Lord. I am so sorry! I should have waited."

He didn't seem terribly disturbed, and this probably should have come as some small relief for the Charms professor, but the utter mortification lingered, even as she was offered a seat.

Lest she be viewed as doubly rude, she did not immediately walk away, but instead, without turning round, she glanced towards the sitting area and, shielding her eyes with a hand cupped across her brow, she made her way over to one of the chairs. As she sank onto the plush cushion, color faded somewhat, from her cheeks... But the warmth of embarrassment lingered in a creeping heat along the back of her neck and ears. One would think she'd have learned some lesson by now about opening doors before being called inside, but apparently some lessons were harder to grasp than others.

"I apologize..." She repeated, likely without necessity, and for the sake of having something, anything to do, with eyes and hands, she set the basket on the table nearest, smoothing the folds in her skirt, ankles crossing and uncrossing in nervous habit.

He was younger than she had expected, but then... with Ackerley as headmaster, it shouldn't have come as so much a surprise. Quillius hadn't exactly been Albus Dumbledore, himself, and while she hadn't run into many others, she could only assume even the senior most member of staff was years from silver hair and spectacles upon the nose. He had been tall, too. That much was impossible to miss for the woman who, out of her heels, was reaching no top shelves any time soon. Tall, and vaguely familiar. There was something in the timbre of that husky baritone... In the charm of that toothy smile...

He called out, and like a ringing claxon, his name filtered memory through her mind, "No..." Violet whispered in pure disbelief. But she knew, without a shadow of a doubt that she could not possibly have misheard that name, "Alfie Woodsworth? The world gets smaller by the minute. Violet... Violet Henley."

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PEEKING through the door every so often, the towel end flipping with each movement back and forth. It hadn't been an ideal way to meet a fellow faculty member of the school, but at least professionalism had reigned supreme and the pair had been able to continue with only a mild interruption to the conversation.

"No, no, it's fine," Alpheus said, grinning as he appeared in the doorway again, shirt halfway over his head as he wrestled his arms through the sleeves. He spoke loudly, words muffled by the clothing. "I should have waited until I was dressed to go out into the classroom. Definitely won't make that mistake again..."

The blond haired man dipped back out of sight, more rummaging and ruffling taking place. With every peek back at the young Professor seated at the desk in the other room, Alpheus couldn't help but feel there was something familiar, something he couldn't quite put his finger on; but he also didn't want to be rude and ask if they knew one another, because that usually insulted people who mistook their impact on a very busy lifestyle. Still, something about her, those eyes and hair...

"You should stop apologizing, really," Alpheus said as he hopped past the doorway, pulling up the last leg of his pants, one boot hanging from his gritted teeth. "It's fine, I'm dressed, you brought baked goods, we're about to share a... what's in the basket, sorry?"

Either way, whatever it was it smelled delicious. And part of Alpheus almost laughed at how out of place the young lady looked, seated in the refinery of his personal decor. Everything was bright, bold, energetic, and the other Professor was wholesome, reserved and... well, fair from plain, really, if he was being honest. With both boots on, pants done up, shirt tucked in, Alpheus was ready; and he was just about to step through the door when the lady Professor introduced herself, throwing that elusive recognition into focus!

"Wait, wait, wait," Alpheus blinked, as he stepped into the seating area from the bedroom beyond, his eyes staring. "Violet Henley? Little Vi? I didn't even recognize you! You look amazing, wow! ...just, wow."

Despite still wearing a towel on his head, the Professor had changed into his usual clothing. The shirt and pants shimmered, like deep navy-coloured silk, as he sat down opposite the young woman he had known in school. He couldn't believe it, really, it was a small world... which begged the question:

"What happened to, uh, what's his face, Tim... no, Trev-- Terence! Ol' Terrence... are you both still a thing, or?"

Alpheus smirked, leaning forward as he looked down to the basket, then back to Violet. Was she blushing?

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Alpheus reappeared time and again, in various states of undress, and Violet did her best to avert her eyes, though through no fault of her own caught the occasional glimpse. Graciously, when he emerged entirely, he was fully clothed and looking up, she breathed a small, nearly silent sigh of relief. Knowing now who the man was, it was hardly so surprising that he should show up to answer her call in such ridiculous fashion - he had always been something of a peacock, Alpheus, though never in a way that was offensive or garish. If she remembered him properly, he had always been charming in his own manner - if not a touch... unaware.

Or perhaps he was entirely aware, after all.

She had been about to answer his question, when instead, he responded to her introduction. Violet's eyes widened just slightly, and her cheeks filled again with pink, as her gaze dropped, perhaps slightly quicker than she meant, to the basket on the table, "Scones... Honey and basil. Ah. Thank you?" She returned her gaze to the man with a flicker of a laugh, "It's been some time since I've been called Little Vi. I wasn't sure you'd remember who I was, honestly."

She, unlike Alpheus, hadn't made much of an impact during her time at Hogwarts. She had been a small, mousy thing, with a troubled past, and for the better part of the time he was there, she had kept to herself... all but for--

"...Oh, Heavens." Terrence Howel. The very first. Terrence had been something of a rising star - an athletic young man, with a brilliant smile and moss-green eyes. He was, as far as she could remember, quite definitively popular, and for whatever reason, had put it upon himself to romance Violet, her forth year. It had been little more than childish hand holding and one very poorly executed and entirely too awkward kiss (which had, incidentally landed on her eye, rather than any place proper), but it was apparently far more memorable than she realized.

Another laugh escaped, silvery and bright, as Violet shook her head, "I haven't spoke to Terrence since I caught him with Darla McGreggor in the Quidditch pitch right before summer break." Tucking back a lose wave, Violet's eyes flickered to the towel on Alpheus's head, before meeting the man's eye, "But then, we were never serious and I was rather focused on my studies, after all that. You look well, Alpheus." She offered finely, with a small nod.

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ALPHEUS looked to the basket again. Those scones sounded delicious, and he couldn't wait to have a few. But, wanting to be a good host, he made sure to summon a pair of plates, a knife, and some butter with the wave of his hand. It was a simple method, exactly like how the meals in the Great Hall appeared, and no doubt some House Elves were wondering where those items went in the kitchens.

"Of course I remember you! And do you mind if I butter some of these?" Alpheus said, grinning as he began to open the basket, gently placing a scone onto each plate, careful to avoid touching them as much as possible. "I mean, I knew a lot of people in Hogwarts, but most of them were passing faces. I actually found out who you were from my younger brother, he was in your year, and you helped him on a few classes. I appreciated that, so I made sure to say hello and got to know you as much as I could, being higher year."

Using a gold butter knife, Alpheus split the scones and buttered them. When both were done, he grabbed one plate and offered it across the desk, smiling. His attention turned back to the baked goods on his own plate, before he literally licked his lips and took a bite. It tasted as good as it looked, and he let out a moan of appreciation. He could really taste the honey, and the basil offset the sweetness perfectly!

"These are amazing," Alpheus said as he took another bite. He wondered if some tea would be remiss, but figured that could happen after if desired. "Do you make the scones by yourself, or with some magic - or both? Either way, amazing."

It only took several more bites, and the first scone was gone. Alpheus began buttering another one, deciding he could have two without seeming like a glutton. He really hoped the basket got left behind, because if he was honest, Alpheus had to admit he couldn't cook to save his life; in fact, on more than one occasion, his cooking had almost ended his life...

"So how's it been, teaching here? Any tips for someone just starting out?"

Alpheus raised his eyebrows, as he looked across at miss Henley...

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ALPHEUS smirked, appreciating that Violet had considered him quite popular back in their school days. His status in Hogwarts had been well-known, it was true, but the Professor liked to think he had kept a fairly humble face about it all. Some people thought he was eccentric, which Alpheus could see he supposed, especially with the clothing and his flamboyant manner, but really he was just being nice and trying to enjoy life; what was the point of going through the motions like everyone else, when everyone ended up the same way?

"You know, I think I can tell," Alpheus said, as he took another bite of Vi's scone, as he leaned back and propped his leather cowboy boots onto the edge of the desk. "There's just something about baking with non-magical methods that makes it taste... different, but not in a good or bad way, but just different enjoyable."

Yet, when the topic shifted to Violet's own short tenure so far at the school, and then onto mention of a mysterious individual that wore a mask, Alpheus raised an eyebrow and sat forward, his boots clomping to the floor. The usually jovial manner was lessened, as the Professor wondered how much was to be told about the latter topic...

"I haven't been told about any incidents, no," Alpheus said as he frowned, the seriousness evident in the other Professor's words. Alpheus wondered if the masked person was simply dealt with, or had been on the agenda to discuss, or had simply been swept under the proverbial rug. "But the thought of a masked man around the school, with students present, sounds concerning. I expect something's been done about it, then?"

Still, Alpheus felt this was something he should know, if only to avoid any issues or awkward situations should something similar happen for him to witness. Knowledge, as he said, was the best defense and offense, and without knowing what you were dealing with, your chances of overcoming the obstacle were lessened.

"Could you tell me what you know?"

Alpheus asked seriously, as he looked across at Violet - and took another bite of scone.

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A soft sigh escaped, and Violet's expression shifted as she shook her head. She didn't want to speak ill of her fellow professors, and certainly not to someone who had only just begun, himself... But it greatly disturbed her that there didn't seem to be more concern about the pressing matter of this intruder at their school. She'd spoken to Ackerley at the start and Quill had come to her but otherwise there seemed to be a sense that perhaps they were underestimating the seriousness of it all.

"I wish I could say I knew more. Unfortunately I've only been made privvy to what details are available to Quillius. In short, there were objects stolen last year that have been used to infiltrate the school. One of them, a mask, appears to have been used on a student, a young boy, who attacked other students. I worry that the school has since put very little precautions in place to prevent another incident."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she set her plate aside, appetite diminished as she considered the ramifications of down playing the crisis. Many many years ago, Voldemort was just a young, curious boy who asked too many dangerous questions. His rise to power was largely the fault of being considered harmless....

"I'm worried, Alfie... that this is far worse than we can imagine. I'm worried that we've only seen the beginning. And harm will come to our students if we aren't prepared..."

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WITH a frown, Alpheus listened to what Violet had to say. The words were chilling, and made the man put the remaining portion of scone down. He wiped his fingers, before leaning forward and resting his chin on his fingers, listening further. The fact a child was being used by some presumably unknown puppeteer to attack other children was very, very concerning. Not only did it make it difficult to combat directly, since any Professor defending a student would be attacking a student, but with so many names and faces attending the school it would be near impossible to know who was being controlled...

"That's a real cause for concern, yes," Alpheus said simply, not bothering to offer a smile or reassurance. "I assume the faculty have had consistent meetings throughout this process? Ways to keep up-to-date on odd behavior, or changes in schedules, or suspicious actions?"

In his time with the Ministry, Alpheus had heard about certain artifacts that were hidden from others, locked away and supposedly secured for safety. One was likely the same mask Vi spoke of, with the other item being a glove that could control the wearer. The fact these particular items seemed to be the ones being discussed caused even more concern.

"I'm going to assume the glove associated with the mask was taken," Alpheus said as he tapped his chin, thinking. "If that's the case, we need to discuss how to protect the kids this coming year, no question about it. The Headmaster might have to make a formal announcement in the Great Hall, request students observe and report, and make sure their friends aren't acting oddly? Because right now, aside from improving Hogwart's defenses and protections, our only real method of discovering the masked individual is drastic changes in behavior... maybe we should consider doing something ourselves?"

Alpheus let out a sigh, before he reached down and finished the last piece of his scone.

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