All human actions have one or more of these seven causes:
clip clip clip
Her heels clipped a staccato against the marble as Gwen moved through the Auror Department. She had to make semi-regular visits to the Ministry, but most always to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, not the MLE.
After her little meeting with Jonathan’s trainee, though, the young woman had been much on her mind. Hazel West seemed more than competent, but times were changing again if what Joscelin had told her was true, and the young woman just didn’t have that something that would move her beyond cannon fodder.
You could know all the right things to do, could be quick and strong, but for high pressure occupations, for life threatening occupations, there was a certain amount of personal fortitude that was required. Everyone had it to some degree, but those who sought to fly hundreds of feet above the ground on a stick, or fight the most hardened of criminals, needed a stronger dose of it than the average person. A much stronger dose.
And as lovely as Hazel was, she wouldn’t survive what was coming. If what Joscelin had told her was true, then the bright young woman she had met likely wouldn’t see her twentieth birthday.
Gwen’s brow pulled into the barest of frowns. Facing danger was more than physical strength, wand quickness and knowledge. Those who were here knew this. Most all had fought in the last war. Why someone like the little girl she’d met had been accepted into the program baffled her.
She didn’t know why she’d not just told all of this to Dora, let her near-sister speak to Jonathan about it. It’d been on her mind to do just that straight after she’d met the girl, but it had never crossed her lips.
The clip of her heels ceased when Gwen found herself in front of the door Ms. Potts had directed her to. Irritation laced through her as she knocked on the reflective glass door. It was only midway down the hall from reception that led to the main foyer, and other halls of the department. Meaning she’d been walking by his office every damn time she came in. Walking by his office in which he could see her through the glass, but she couldn’t see him.
Gwen’s knuckles turned white as she clenched them around the clutch she carried with her, only outward sign that she was not perfectly put-together inside and out.
The door opened slowly, revealing a tousled-haired Jonathan. He'd spent the night in the office. He'd heard reports that more people were disappearing across Greater Britain. They'd finally discovered where they'd hid everyone, returned those who could be returned, and like cockroaches, they were already scurrying just beyond the light that'd been shone on them. He was tired, more than just physically.
He rose an eyebrow at Gwen, reaching up to straighten his tie unconsciously from where it had been hanging loosely around his neck. "Magical Games and Sports is on level four, Ms. Jones. Are you lost?"
A brow rose in a gentle arch. "May I come in, Auror Savage?" she asked, ignoring his question. She didn't get lost.
Swinging the door open a bit more, gesturing to the empty office and the chairs in front of his desk, Jonathan inclined his head. "If this is a social call, I'd have appreciated an owl first. You're lucky I put up with you, Ms. Jones," he said, though with less humor and teasing in his tone than would have normally been present.
Gwen paused before entering into his office. It'd not been more than half a minute and she was already irritated - put up with her? - but some of his words chastised her and she did not move to enter his office. "I do apologize for my rude manners, Auror Savage," she said. "If this is a bad time, I will have my secretary owl for a more suitable arrangement."
"Not a social call then," he said, leaving her where she stood, the door falling closed as he moved to sit behind his desk. "I'm sorry for my shortness, Ms. Jones," he sighed as he carefully sat in his chair. He usually was not one to apologize for something, anything, but he was weary. "Was there something I could help you with?" He looked up at her with the question, a slight spark in his eyes when they connected with hers.
"I thought to share a concern," Gwen said. She'd not been certain if staying was the proper course of action as he looked a little worse for wear - a hazard of the job - and had even apologized, but the almost-challenge in his eyes had her moving into his space and settling on the chair opposite his desk.
"I had the pleasure of meeting your trainee recently," she began. "Ms. West, no?"
Jonathan looked at her for a beat, his face impassive. "We both know you know her name. She told me you even had a conversation as she showed you to Auror Rascaile's office, whose office I know you've visited many times before and did not need an escort to."
"She's a lovely young woman and I enjoyed her company," Gwen replied evenly. "You make it sound a crime, though I was unaware my visits were followed so closely by any other than Ms. Potts."
"Oh, I hear plenty about you, Ms. Jones. Ms. Potts is not the only person who you've left an impression on in this department." He sat back in his chair, lacing his hands together before placing them on his stomach. "And yes, Ms. West is a very lovely young girl. I do hope you're not here to tell me you're recruiting her. I wouldn't want a turf war started between the Ministry and the Quidditch league. Think of the casualties."
"Yes, I think that's exactly what should be thought of." Her eyes were dark, angry. Already. How he got her like this, she wasn't entirely sure. "I'd not want to see Ms. West end up such, which is how I find myself here in your office today." Despite my better judgment.
"You're being deliberately subtle. Please, don't hold back with me, Ms. Jones. I promise I can take it." He knew better than to assume she'd come here for anything but to criticize him. It was probably one of things she was best at. Judgment came so easily to those with their shared background.
Gwen's anger warmed her, warmed the room, and the air was thick with it. She could all but taste him on the air as well; emotions rode high, and there were so very many ways her control wanted free of her grasp just then. She didn't even know why, dammit, not entirely. "I do not see how this affects you and your ability to take anything, Mr. Savage, but I was concerned for your trainee. She assured me that she was working quite diligently, and that her mentor was very capable, but I'm sure it has not escaped your notice that she is soft, Jonathan, that 'casualty' is a very real possibility for some more than others, and that Ms. West should perhaps not be tested by such a dire fate."
Jonathan smiled, though the expression was tight. "Could you please tell me, Ms. Jones, how it is you came to know so much about Ms. West when you've spent all of five minutes with her? I am aware that some can discern a lot about a person within minutes of meeting them, their coldness and superior attitude, for example, but Ms. West has neither of these."
The fact that she'd used his given name had not gone unnoticed, but at the moment he was focused on the conversation at hand, and the insinuations that went along with it. "I'd just like to know how you are basing your opinion."
She had not missed his subtle dig at herself; he'd made it clear what he thought of her from the first they'd spoken. Apparently those gilded and mirrored doors were also possessors of cold demeanor's and superior attitudes as well.
"I have been working with young women for the whole of my career, Mr. Savage," she said, voice tight, the tones lower than normal even. "I'd like to think I've learned to surmise when one is too soft for the ravages of professional sports, or in this case, a life threatening occupation in which she will be a target."
Jonathan blinked at her. It was hard for him to imagine running and training a sports team an equivalent to teaching the future generation of Aurors, but if she wanted to assume she knew what she was talking about, he had no problem letting her keep her illusions. "And you would know something about women being a target, wouldn't you? I believe I skimmed over the case regarding one of your young women and her being a target."
"Yes," Gwen said, voice cold though her eyes were flashing bright. "Like Fabriana. Target of a man who the Ministry has seen fit to release, a man who tried to rape one of mine, who hurt her. Which, Mr. Savage, is why I've been here." Her brow pulled into the barest of frowns. "The intention to have, to hurt, to kill, even, is not exclusive to law enforcement."
"No, it is not," he said, sitting forward in his chair. He could feel the shift in conversation as if the very air had bent. "And those you consider yours have the benefit of someone looking out for their well being, making sure they are as protected as they can be. I assure you, Ms. West has the same. She is being watched and trained carefully."
Jonathan was very aware of how fragile his trainee was. He'd originally not wanted a trainee, for the simple fact that he worked better alone. Always had. However, his first look at Hazel had secured in him the knowledge that she needed the help only he could provide. He'd debated turning down the training position, but had considered who else she'd have been placed with. It had cemented his belief.
"It is fortunate for Ms. West then," Gwen replied evenly. She moved smoothly to her feet then. "Thank you for your time, Auror Savage. I do apologize for having come unannounced and interrupting your day." With the barest incline of her head, the tap of Gwen's heels carried her to the door and through the glass structure.
It wasn't right. There were people that shouldn't be exposed to darkness. She should have know better than to come to Jonathan Savage on her own though; he'd made his opinion of her clear from the start, and it was evident that it hadn't changed and that he would not listen to her.
Jonathan sat at his desk for a moment, the sound of her hills clicking down the hall and towards the lifts ringing in his ears. Against his better judgment, he jumped to his feet, pursuing her. He breezed out the door, even as it began to shut in her wake. It wasn't that she'd insulted him and his ability to teach. That had little to no effect on him. She did not know him, so her opinion mattered little.
Yet he followed her.
She had insulted Hazel, in a way. She thought it for the best intentions, why she cared he was still unsure of and would have to puzzle out, but it still assumed she knew more about his trainee than he did.
Gwen could hear him following her. A frown knit her brow. What in the bloody hell did he want? She turned abruptly to face him. Someone literally brushed by her in the opposite direction; Burke, if she remembered correctly, but it was just a cataloged irritant, eyes pulled from the tall man's back without effort to rest on Jonathan as he came to up to her. "What more is there to say, Auror Savage? I have expressed my concerns to the proper ears and been assured all is well."
He looked at her, ignoring the background murmur that came with being in the middle of the Department hallway. "Yet you still think that's not good enough. Your distaste reads in your steps, Ms. Jones."
There were a plethora of emotions riding her, and anger prodded her control. Though her features were smooth as she reclaimed the step between them, the nearness made the emotion spike and her hands clenched around her golden clutch, her eyes darkly expressive. "They are precious, Mr. Savage. You and I both know the world is not kind to the precious, and if that requires us to be harsh when making assessments, then that is what it requires," she began, voice low, just for his ears.
"I have had hundreds of girls in my office, on my pitch, and every time I must not only look at their aptitude, but whether they can survive it, whether they have that something that makes them hold on just a bit tighter, fight back, even when they've been hit by a bludger while flying at speeds that tempt fate, whether they will be able to withstand the scrutiny of thousands of eyes."
Nearly eye level with him in her heels, it was both easier and more difficult to keep reign on that which was boiling beneath the surface; anger, yes, but so much more just that moment. "Or even if they will fight back when a man decides he must have them. Every face I must look at and think of the worst things that could happen to her. Look at your Ms. West, Auror Savage. She is soft. Precious. Sometimes we must make difficult decisions for those who do not do it for themselves."
She was closer to him now, and her face took up most of his field of vision. He had no focus for anything but the woman in front of him and the words she spoke. His eyes had darkened as he responded.
"If you think that I have not considered every possible scenario, every horrible thing that could happen to that little girl, then you are mistaken. I see her broken and bloodied and owned, and will do everything in my power to make sure she is prepared enough that it never happens." He took a minute step closer. "Giving up on her or letting her quit would only hurt her, hinder her, in the future. She needs to learn how to take care of herself, and regardless of whether or not you deem it a good idea, that is my responsibility."
He was close enough that a shallow breath brought his scent to her, something spiced, and Gwen's eyes swirled darkly. It was time to go. As if wrapping herself in cool armor, she pulled back. "As I have said, I've expressed my concerns to the proper ears and have been assured all is well. I sincerely hope this is truth." So close to the edge, of what, she was unsure. "Good day, Mr. Savage," she bid, words clipped before she turned and strode towards the front lobby once more. Breathe.
Jonathan's eyes were on her until she disappeared from sight. Letting out a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd held in his chest, he turned back towards his office. He was vaguely aware of people looking at him as he approached the glass doors. He even saw Burke, who had been leaning against the hallway wall, open his mouth as if to comment.
One dark look from Jonathan had the younger Auror's mouth closing. Attempting to ignore the irritation, and carefully avoided worry, he slipped into his office, the glass doors cutting him from the view of those that had been watching with voyeuristic intentions.
SUMMARY: Gwen seeks Jonathan out about a few concerns she has for his trainee, Hazel.
Her heels clipped a staccato against the marble as Gwen moved through the Auror Department. She had to make semi-regular visits to the Ministry, but most always to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, not the MLE.
After her little meeting with Jonathan’s trainee, though, the young woman had been much on her mind. Hazel West seemed more than competent, but times were changing again if what Joscelin had told her was true, and the young woman just didn’t have that something that would move her beyond cannon fodder.
You could know all the right things to do, could be quick and strong, but for high pressure occupations, for life threatening occupations, there was a certain amount of personal fortitude that was required. Everyone had it to some degree, but those who sought to fly hundreds of feet above the ground on a stick, or fight the most hardened of criminals, needed a stronger dose of it than the average person. A much stronger dose.
And as lovely as Hazel was, she wouldn’t survive what was coming. If what Joscelin had told her was true, then the bright young woman she had met likely wouldn’t see her twentieth birthday.
Gwen’s brow pulled into the barest of frowns. Facing danger was more than physical strength, wand quickness and knowledge. Those who were here knew this. Most all had fought in the last war. Why someone like the little girl she’d met had been accepted into the program baffled her.
She didn’t know why she’d not just told all of this to Dora, let her near-sister speak to Jonathan about it. It’d been on her mind to do just that straight after she’d met the girl, but it had never crossed her lips.
The clip of her heels ceased when Gwen found herself in front of the door Ms. Potts had directed her to. Irritation laced through her as she knocked on the reflective glass door. It was only midway down the hall from reception that led to the main foyer, and other halls of the department. Meaning she’d been walking by his office every damn time she came in. Walking by his office in which he could see her through the glass, but she couldn’t see him.
Gwen’s knuckles turned white as she clenched them around the clutch she carried with her, only outward sign that she was not perfectly put-together inside and out.
The door opened slowly, revealing a tousled-haired Jonathan. He'd spent the night in the office. He'd heard reports that more people were disappearing across Greater Britain. They'd finally discovered where they'd hid everyone, returned those who could be returned, and like cockroaches, they were already scurrying just beyond the light that'd been shone on them. He was tired, more than just physically.
He rose an eyebrow at Gwen, reaching up to straighten his tie unconsciously from where it had been hanging loosely around his neck. "Magical Games and Sports is on level four, Ms. Jones. Are you lost?"
A brow rose in a gentle arch. "May I come in, Auror Savage?" she asked, ignoring his question. She didn't get lost.
Swinging the door open a bit more, gesturing to the empty office and the chairs in front of his desk, Jonathan inclined his head. "If this is a social call, I'd have appreciated an owl first. You're lucky I put up with you, Ms. Jones," he said, though with less humor and teasing in his tone than would have normally been present.
Gwen paused before entering into his office. It'd not been more than half a minute and she was already irritated - put up with her? - but some of his words chastised her and she did not move to enter his office. "I do apologize for my rude manners, Auror Savage," she said. "If this is a bad time, I will have my secretary owl for a more suitable arrangement."
"Not a social call then," he said, leaving her where she stood, the door falling closed as he moved to sit behind his desk. "I'm sorry for my shortness, Ms. Jones," he sighed as he carefully sat in his chair. He usually was not one to apologize for something, anything, but he was weary. "Was there something I could help you with?" He looked up at her with the question, a slight spark in his eyes when they connected with hers.
"I thought to share a concern," Gwen said. She'd not been certain if staying was the proper course of action as he looked a little worse for wear - a hazard of the job - and had even apologized, but the almost-challenge in his eyes had her moving into his space and settling on the chair opposite his desk.
"I had the pleasure of meeting your trainee recently," she began. "Ms. West, no?"
Jonathan looked at her for a beat, his face impassive. "We both know you know her name. She told me you even had a conversation as she showed you to Auror Rascaile's office, whose office I know you've visited many times before and did not need an escort to."
"She's a lovely young woman and I enjoyed her company," Gwen replied evenly. "You make it sound a crime, though I was unaware my visits were followed so closely by any other than Ms. Potts."
"Oh, I hear plenty about you, Ms. Jones. Ms. Potts is not the only person who you've left an impression on in this department." He sat back in his chair, lacing his hands together before placing them on his stomach. "And yes, Ms. West is a very lovely young girl. I do hope you're not here to tell me you're recruiting her. I wouldn't want a turf war started between the Ministry and the Quidditch league. Think of the casualties."
"Yes, I think that's exactly what should be thought of." Her eyes were dark, angry. Already. How he got her like this, she wasn't entirely sure. "I'd not want to see Ms. West end up such, which is how I find myself here in your office today." Despite my better judgment.
"You're being deliberately subtle. Please, don't hold back with me, Ms. Jones. I promise I can take it." He knew better than to assume she'd come here for anything but to criticize him. It was probably one of things she was best at. Judgment came so easily to those with their shared background.
Gwen's anger warmed her, warmed the room, and the air was thick with it. She could all but taste him on the air as well; emotions rode high, and there were so very many ways her control wanted free of her grasp just then. She didn't even know why, dammit, not entirely. "I do not see how this affects you and your ability to take anything, Mr. Savage, but I was concerned for your trainee. She assured me that she was working quite diligently, and that her mentor was very capable, but I'm sure it has not escaped your notice that she is soft, Jonathan, that 'casualty' is a very real possibility for some more than others, and that Ms. West should perhaps not be tested by such a dire fate."
Jonathan smiled, though the expression was tight. "Could you please tell me, Ms. Jones, how it is you came to know so much about Ms. West when you've spent all of five minutes with her? I am aware that some can discern a lot about a person within minutes of meeting them, their coldness and superior attitude, for example, but Ms. West has neither of these."
The fact that she'd used his given name had not gone unnoticed, but at the moment he was focused on the conversation at hand, and the insinuations that went along with it. "I'd just like to know how you are basing your opinion."
She had not missed his subtle dig at herself; he'd made it clear what he thought of her from the first they'd spoken. Apparently those gilded and mirrored doors were also possessors of cold demeanor's and superior attitudes as well.
"I have been working with young women for the whole of my career, Mr. Savage," she said, voice tight, the tones lower than normal even. "I'd like to think I've learned to surmise when one is too soft for the ravages of professional sports, or in this case, a life threatening occupation in which she will be a target."
Jonathan blinked at her. It was hard for him to imagine running and training a sports team an equivalent to teaching the future generation of Aurors, but if she wanted to assume she knew what she was talking about, he had no problem letting her keep her illusions. "And you would know something about women being a target, wouldn't you? I believe I skimmed over the case regarding one of your young women and her being a target."
"Yes," Gwen said, voice cold though her eyes were flashing bright. "Like Fabriana. Target of a man who the Ministry has seen fit to release, a man who tried to rape one of mine, who hurt her. Which, Mr. Savage, is why I've been here." Her brow pulled into the barest of frowns. "The intention to have, to hurt, to kill, even, is not exclusive to law enforcement."
"No, it is not," he said, sitting forward in his chair. He could feel the shift in conversation as if the very air had bent. "And those you consider yours have the benefit of someone looking out for their well being, making sure they are as protected as they can be. I assure you, Ms. West has the same. She is being watched and trained carefully."
Jonathan was very aware of how fragile his trainee was. He'd originally not wanted a trainee, for the simple fact that he worked better alone. Always had. However, his first look at Hazel had secured in him the knowledge that she needed the help only he could provide. He'd debated turning down the training position, but had considered who else she'd have been placed with. It had cemented his belief.
"It is fortunate for Ms. West then," Gwen replied evenly. She moved smoothly to her feet then. "Thank you for your time, Auror Savage. I do apologize for having come unannounced and interrupting your day." With the barest incline of her head, the tap of Gwen's heels carried her to the door and through the glass structure.
It wasn't right. There were people that shouldn't be exposed to darkness. She should have know better than to come to Jonathan Savage on her own though; he'd made his opinion of her clear from the start, and it was evident that it hadn't changed and that he would not listen to her.
Jonathan sat at his desk for a moment, the sound of her hills clicking down the hall and towards the lifts ringing in his ears. Against his better judgment, he jumped to his feet, pursuing her. He breezed out the door, even as it began to shut in her wake. It wasn't that she'd insulted him and his ability to teach. That had little to no effect on him. She did not know him, so her opinion mattered little.
Yet he followed her.
She had insulted Hazel, in a way. She thought it for the best intentions, why she cared he was still unsure of and would have to puzzle out, but it still assumed she knew more about his trainee than he did.
Gwen could hear him following her. A frown knit her brow. What in the bloody hell did he want? She turned abruptly to face him. Someone literally brushed by her in the opposite direction; Burke, if she remembered correctly, but it was just a cataloged irritant, eyes pulled from the tall man's back without effort to rest on Jonathan as he came to up to her. "What more is there to say, Auror Savage? I have expressed my concerns to the proper ears and been assured all is well."
He looked at her, ignoring the background murmur that came with being in the middle of the Department hallway. "Yet you still think that's not good enough. Your distaste reads in your steps, Ms. Jones."
There were a plethora of emotions riding her, and anger prodded her control. Though her features were smooth as she reclaimed the step between them, the nearness made the emotion spike and her hands clenched around her golden clutch, her eyes darkly expressive. "They are precious, Mr. Savage. You and I both know the world is not kind to the precious, and if that requires us to be harsh when making assessments, then that is what it requires," she began, voice low, just for his ears.
"I have had hundreds of girls in my office, on my pitch, and every time I must not only look at their aptitude, but whether they can survive it, whether they have that something that makes them hold on just a bit tighter, fight back, even when they've been hit by a bludger while flying at speeds that tempt fate, whether they will be able to withstand the scrutiny of thousands of eyes."
Nearly eye level with him in her heels, it was both easier and more difficult to keep reign on that which was boiling beneath the surface; anger, yes, but so much more just that moment. "Or even if they will fight back when a man decides he must have them. Every face I must look at and think of the worst things that could happen to her. Look at your Ms. West, Auror Savage. She is soft. Precious. Sometimes we must make difficult decisions for those who do not do it for themselves."
She was closer to him now, and her face took up most of his field of vision. He had no focus for anything but the woman in front of him and the words she spoke. His eyes had darkened as he responded.
"If you think that I have not considered every possible scenario, every horrible thing that could happen to that little girl, then you are mistaken. I see her broken and bloodied and owned, and will do everything in my power to make sure she is prepared enough that it never happens." He took a minute step closer. "Giving up on her or letting her quit would only hurt her, hinder her, in the future. She needs to learn how to take care of herself, and regardless of whether or not you deem it a good idea, that is my responsibility."
He was close enough that a shallow breath brought his scent to her, something spiced, and Gwen's eyes swirled darkly. It was time to go. As if wrapping herself in cool armor, she pulled back. "As I have said, I've expressed my concerns to the proper ears and have been assured all is well. I sincerely hope this is truth." So close to the edge, of what, she was unsure. "Good day, Mr. Savage," she bid, words clipped before she turned and strode towards the front lobby once more. Breathe.
Jonathan's eyes were on her until she disappeared from sight. Letting out a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd held in his chest, he turned back towards his office. He was vaguely aware of people looking at him as he approached the glass doors. He even saw Burke, who had been leaning against the hallway wall, open his mouth as if to comment.
One dark look from Jonathan had the younger Auror's mouth closing. Attempting to ignore the irritation, and carefully avoided worry, he slipped into his office, the glass doors cutting him from the view of those that had been watching with voyeuristic intentions.
SUMMARY: Gwen seeks Jonathan out about a few concerns she has for his trainee, Hazel.