The Office of Gabriela Recard
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Nemesis had given no forewarning that they intended to meet with Professor Recard today, or at all, but she was on the list. A tentative list, admittedly, one kept in Nem's head only, and one they kept picking up and abandoning or changing the details of, true to the same capricious nature that had got them this far in life. Or whatever. Today, it had occurred to them that it might be fun to go see their Head of House, and so, naturally, they acted on the impulse at once. And here they were, in the doorway. "Professor Recard." Polite, cordial, but unsmiling. So far, anyway. |
Truthfully, Gabriela had been thinking about Nemesis since they had returned to school. Their behavior last term had been alarming to say the least and even though she hadn’t been present during the battle in the grounds, she had heard more than enough about it through various eye witnesses. How was she supposed to approach a situation like this?? They’d never covered what to do if one of your students joins a cult in her professor training! When her visitor revealed themselves to be none other than Mister Upstead, she raised an eyebrow and put her grading aside. This should be...something. She had stopped trying to figure out how these conversations would go with them. ”Upstead...please have a seat. How are you?” She asked with a friendly small smile. |
Nem watched as the parchment was set aside, then returned their attention to Recard herself. At the question, their eyes narrowed an infinitesimal amount, for a fraction of a second, a true blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, before they, too, broke suddenly into a smile. Like they were born to it. "Oh, I'm grand." Stepping into the office proper, Nem made to shut the door but seemed to reconsider for a moment, holding it just about ajar for maybe two full seconds, before pushing it all the way closed. When they turned back, the smile was gone, and they gave the interior of the office a long, searching look. Purple, books, purple, books, photographs, purple, books, books, books. When they were done, Nem did indeed take up a seat in one of those armchairs. "Thought I'd take a break from my packed social calendar to come visit my favourite Deputy Headmistress." Really racking up those titles, wasn't she. They tapped an index finger lightly on one of the arms of the chair. "Last term ended a bit weird, and we never got the chance to have another chat." |
To say that Gabi was choosing her words carefully was an understatement. Nemesis was always hard to read but after the events of last term, she was at a loss with them. Perhaps she should consult Trent on the matter? She hadn't yet, due to the fact that the man was inevitably busy trying to catch up on everything that had happened the past two years. "Weird? That's one way to put it," Gabi found hersef smirking and giving them a little chuckle at their statement. "So...what did you want to chat about?" |
Oh, sure, there were plenty of ways to describe how last term had gone, but they didn't need to get all caught up in that kind of thing. Nem allowed another half-smile though; it was nice when the most innocuous comments were not called out as inappropriate or insensitive. It did, however, make it a little more challenging to know where the line was. Which was only an issue when Nem cared to toe said line. Jury was still out on that today. For a long moment, they didn't say anything, just looked at their fingers as they pressed several indents into the arm of the chair, watching as the material regained its shape again and again. "I don't know," Nem said at last, fairly honestly, slowly drumming their long fingers once, then laying them flat. They looked up at Recard with a steady stare. "Though I did wonder if there was anything you wanted to ask me. You'd be surprised how few questions I get. Proper questions." Or maybe she wouldn't, who was Nem to say. Regardless, this wasn't a new phenomenon, but it was interesting that, far from the events of last term triggering an onslaught, those around them seemed to have become even less willing to dig. "Custody interviews notwithstanding." A joke. A truthful one, but a joke nonetheless. Funny, too, that so far it had been the kid of an Auror who'd seemed genuinely willing to give them the time of day. That was maybe worth thinking about. |
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"Really? That's curious," she said with a small shrug before pausing again. Truthfully she could see why - the rest of the students were probably scared. "How are you feeling? After all this?" she asked them. There were hundreds of other questions, of course - most of them revolving around WHY had they done any of it in the first place. But now that it was all behind them...how were they taking it? Did they regret their actions? Or did they feel pride? |
Nem shrugged too, mirroring the careless gesture with near clinical precision. "It is what it is." When Recard spoke again, Nem stopped. That is to say, their relaxed position in the armchair momentarily became statuesque in its stillness, and they stared stolidly back. They supposed they should have expected a question like that. Simple oversight, nothing they couldn't handle. They had willingly opened the floor for questions, and Recard had gone straight for the jugular; it was a dangerous game, one Nem was willing to engage with. Settling back in the armchair, they leaned their head on their hand and gazed at one of the bookshelves, apparently in deep thought. "Confused, I guess. Regretful." Nem flicked their eyes towards Recard. "Lonely?" They sounded uncertain, as though they weren't sure of the feeling, or perhaps like they were venturing a guess as to the correct word. Wrapped up in the game, it was entirely possible that Nem had managed to convince themselves that the answer was just part of a ploy, or perhaps they had simply managed to forget, for the time being, entirely how much truth was in it. Not that it was a particularly new feeling; Rosier had not caused their disconnect from the world, but instead seemed to briefly temper it, only to get himself taken permanently out of the game. Idiot. "And tired." Because it was only fair, Nem immediately turned Recard's own question back on her without breaking their stride. "How are you feeling, professor? After all this?" |
That answer was...surprising. After their actions last term, Gabi wouldn't have been surprised if Nemesis had said that they DIDN'T feel sorry for what they had done. But deep down, it warmed her heart to know that they felt sorry for what had happened. Sort of. They hadn't said that much outright, and perhaps they were just saying it to try and get back on her good side after what had happened. "Decisions we have to make in times like that...times of war...they're never easy. Even for people your age," she said softly. Heck, even the younger kids were saying things and taking sides, doing things they wouldn't have done if it hadn't been essential to survival. "And if you're confused, or need help trying to figure out what you're feeling...I'd be happy to try and help," she assured them. She wasn't TOTALLY a monster. Really. As for how SHE felt? "I am also tired. Tired of history repeating itself," she admitted with a soft sigh. "We haven't covered it in any of your curriculum here, but this isn't the first time a radical group has infiltrated our community in recent years," she explained with a small frown. |
"I did what I had to do. For the good side, too, much as nobody is willing to see that." 'Good' was subjective, and not a concept Nem believed in, but it was no doubt how Recard would have preferred to hear them phrase it. That was it, really. That was what it all came down to. It wasn't a particularly new concept for them either, doing what was necessary in the name of survival, it was just that last term was the first time it had ever been brought out into the open. Unfortunate that it hadn't played out to their clear advantage at the time, but that didn't mean the game was entirely over. "I don't know... I get uncomfortable, talking about that kind of stuff. Feelings, or whatever. Not to be a total cliché or anything. Thank you, though. I'll think about it." Having swerved opening that can of worms, Nem was far more interested in hearing what Recard had to say. At first, just to gauge the situation, but then... "Are you referring to the Cult of Walpurgis, Professor Recard?" they asked casually, watching their own hand as they traced a triangular shape on the arm of the chair with the tip of an index finger. |
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"Well my door is always open," she told them with a small smile, and then nodding in response to their question. "Yes, that's the one. I worked in the Ministry at the time. Not quite as...dramatic as last term, but still, some similarities," she explained with a small shrug. |
Ash had like, questions and stuff. About things. Like memories, and dreams, and that kind of stuff. Yeah. And she knew that Professor Recard was no longer in charge of being the Healer, but she was the healer when Ash was possessed, so maybe she'd still know what to do? About memories. Things she didn't want to talk about to Professor Peralta, and especially not "HEALER POPPY". Mind stuff. So yes. She was here. With questions. Sorry to mess up your day, professor. The thought tasted sour inside of her head. But not like lemons. More like spoiled milk. She seriously doubted that Professor Recard would enjoy seeing her, seeing as they only really met when Ash was injured or in trouble for something. She probably gave the now-deputy-headmistress a massive headache. But Ash was here anyways. Of course she had decided to show up. So it goes. |
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Nem nodded, and dropped the matter. They needed to discuss their feelings like they needed a hole in the head. "I read a bit about it. My father was at school when Gevrik was here." Jake had never said as much; he spoke very little about his time at Hogwarts, a lot of what Nem knew was from their own digging. Speaking of. "There was a different Recard at the Ministry at the time, too, wasn't there? When the Cult was in operation." |
Cornelia shuffled her way along the first-floor corridor, her eyes looking down at the patterns on the rugs. It was something she never had paid much attention to before, considering she was usually rushing to and from classes. Today was a different day, however. The distraction was a welcomed one, even if it was short-lived as the journey to the office had been quick in spite of her taking her time getting there. She had a pretty good idea why Professor Recard requested to speak with her. It was for that reason the blonde considered walking past the door, to continue following the rug patterns, to avoid the situation entirely. But she knew there was no way of avoiding her History of Magic professor, her Head of House, the Deputy Headmistress. The two of them crossing paths was inevitable. The young Slytherin's conscious reminded herself of that a number of times as she debated between leaving, hiding in the potions lab, claiming later that she forgot or actually knocking and having a talk that was going to happen later if not now. In the end, the girl sighed quietly to herself and allowed her small hand to knock on the wood of the door. |
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"We met after the cult fell apart," she added, JUST in case they were getting any ideas. "He lost everything at the Ministry because of the cult." Quote:
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She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Technically, she could have sat down, but she didn't and it wasn't like she had been told to or anything. "Do you know stuff about like... memories? And conscious and unconscious thoughts and how that all works?" She pointed at the side of her own head. "How it all works in the brain or whatever?" She sighed, not entirely sure she was being coherent. Had she even said the words? Or was Recard just watching her not talk? No, no. It was alright. She was sure that she could remember her mouth moving. SO assuming that they were both in reality right now, Recard had definitely heard her say something. Maybe, Ash thought anxiously, it would have been better to go to the divination professor. But she didn't WANT to go to the divination professor. So she hoped Recard knew how minds worked. Maybe? Maybe not. Maybe she should have never came. But it was too late for that. Oops. |
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"Fired," they said, and though maybe it could have been a question, it was not. They knew already that Armen Recard had been relieved of his Department Head position after the Cult of Walpurgis fell. Any information once published was easily available, if a person was thorough enough in their search, but records of old Daily Prophets were not exactly hard to find. Because Nem hadn't even come across this information while looking up cults, but in the process of doing a casual background search on Gabriela Recard herself. Ever since first year, it had been the natural thing to just look and see if there was anything useful or interesting about any of their professors, anything available in the public (or maybe less so) domain. Occasionally - case in point - there was. But anyway. "It works out well that you're my Head of House, if you think about it. I could've had the one who's scared of me, or the one who makes no secret of hating my guts, or the one with a savior complex who's determined to get one over on me." Speaking of, Trent, never going to happen. Maybe he was the Headmaster, total dominion over the school, et cetera, et cetera, but this was one hold he didn't have. He could only pull rank if Nem gave him good reason. "But you're close to someone who... well, our situations aren't the same, but there are clear similarities. That counts for something, doesn't it? Even if it's just... I don't know, an understanding that these things are not as straightforward as everyone would like to believe. And coming to terms with it afterwards." Nem drummed their fingers again, staring across at Recard unfalteringly, jaw tightening for just a moment before their expression cleared again. "Not that things are likely to get better, but they could be worse. No doubt." |
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But... "I used to work heavily with charms, and may have some background information...if you care to elaborate on what you're exactly looking for," she added with an eyebrow raise. Quote:
"I have to say I do agree with you there," she said with a nod. Could you imagine SCHMOE as Nemesis' Head of House? Good Merlin, what a disaster that would be. "Believe it or not I've been around a long time and learned a long time ago that things aren't as cut and dry as we'd like them to be. I want to do what I can to help you, Mister Upstead, at least as much as you will allow me. Because while I still don't agree with your actions last term...I know from personal experience that in those situations, we have to do what we think we have to do." |
SPOILER!!: professor Recard Complex magic? Ash hadn’t even been thinking about magic... but now she had an idea. She zoned out for a few seconds, but she was pretty sure Recard was talking about how complicated everything was and how nobody at the school knew about memories. Something about that. Interesting. She fiddled with the bracelets on her right arm- a sign of nervousness for her. First question. ”Is there any way to like... make memories fuzzy and out of focus? Not like fully obliviating someone, just making their memories less intense.” Because that would be super useful. And Ash found it hard to believe that the Wizarding world knew how to wipe someone’s memories against their will, but didn’t know how to let a willing person have a slightly worse memory. Then again, the Wizarding world was confusing like that. There were transfiguration spells for the weirdest things, but nobody ever had the exact thing they needed. People could read minds, but everyone seemed to be a terrible judge of character. See? Confusing. She tilted her head. Memories were all confusing, or at least that was what Recard said. Well, Ash would understand it. She HAD TO. If there was any complicated topic she needed to understand, it would be memory. Followed by dreams. Then the unforgivables. Then patronuses. Then evanesco. Then Wizarding law... actually there were a lot of things she needed to understand. But memories were the most important. The most important. Probably. |
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Still. Didn't necessarily make it less true. They bit back the provocation - 'I believe it' - and allowed Recard to finish, still tapping their fingers, incessant yet not obnoxious. "I always thought it was obvious, that life isn't so straightforward." It was an unfortunate truth that though Nem expected very little from the people around them, and knew that nobody really saw things like they did, they still occasionally became frustrated when those people proved them right. They had, at least, been prepared for the fact that nobody would even try to think critically about what had happened last year. In that, Nem's expectations had actually been exceeded once or twice. "I suppose I'd have been more surprised if you did agree." Anyway. "But I'm not sure there's anything you can do. To help, I mean." Merlin, if that didn't sound ultra dramatic. "What I mean is, I can look after myself just fine, always have. There's nothing wrong with me, nothing I need help with." Understanding was all well and good, but only when it applied in practice, otherwise there was no point to it. Time would tell with that. |
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