Self Fulfilling Prophecy

“Wait, wh-whoa!”

“...that was only slightly painful to watch. Did you it your head?”

“Well, where else am I supposed to be?  The world doesn’t just stop because I was born so many years ago.  And someone has to grade these and I’ll be damned if they have to wait for the rest of eternity because Thatch loses them.  They will not fall victim to the eternal torture of not knowing your grade.”  He rolled his eyes, though already he was getting up from his chair.  Any excuse to leave it behind was good enough for him.  “You don’t have to finish it.  Really, I can handle it on my own, Professor.  Even if we–if I go do something, all I have to do is come back and fail them all.  It’s that simple, honestly.”

“Fail them...right, of course.” She shook her head, laughing despite herself. “Well if its so simple, I don’t see why you can’t do something more exciting with your evening.” Briefly, she contemplated asking if he wanted to spend time with his family, but the fact that he was here, alone in her office, was a fairly decent indicator that he didn’t have other plans. Seeing as it wasn’t her place to pry, she decided against it. Instead, she started out of her office, looking over her shoulder at him with a grin. “Come on. Unless you have something better to do than sort through essays, i’m taking you out somewhere. Its nonnegotiable.”

“Right.  Well, ah, I’d miss the arithmancy department as well.  It’s, uh–it’s nice.  Having tolerable professors around.” John gave a half-smile, but quickly brushed it off with a loud groan as she asked about his work.  “Is it wrong of me to hate almost every single student I–ah, every single student Thatch has?  Because they’re terrible at best and just very, very stupid at worst.”  He held his face in his hands, taking a moment before running them through his hair.  “They’re just so frustratingly–unaware? And considering it’s my birthday, I’d much rather be anywhere than here, grading this garbage.” John paused for a moment–he hadn’t really intended on letting it slip that today was his birthday.  But, now that he had, there was no reason to really hide it. He wet his lips, hesitating a moment more before continuing.  “I mean, honestly.  You’d think they’d have at least been a little considerate of me, considering.”

Birthday. Mira stared blankly as he spoke, the word jarring any attempt at clever retorts. Distantly, she was glad that she had set the coffee safely on her desk, lest she have dropped it in her surprise. After a moment, the feeling started to wear off, and some semblance of a laugh slipped past her lips. “Your birthday?” She smiled a little helplessly, wondering if she really ought to be surprised. Of course he would be working on his birthday- god. “And you’re here? John.” Waving her hand with finality at his stack of papers, she shook her head. “No more of that. I’ll finish whatever you have left. John Darling, your birthday shouldn’t be spent grading. That is out of the question.”

Vi let herself be led out of the club, most of her attention focused on manipulating their shield to cover both of them without hurting too many of the people around them. In a few moments they were outside, and Vi took a deep breath of the fresh air, using it to clear the smell of drunk human from her senses. “No, I’m fine, he’s hardly the worst I’ve had to deal with. Shit I’m so sorry though, you shouldn’t have to put up with shit like that. It’s been quiet for a bit so I thought it would be fine.” Now that she was out and it seemed like no one was following them, Vi could allow herself to acknowledge the sick ball of fear that had come from seeing a wand pointed at someone else with a spell meant for her. It had hit a little too close to home, even if this time she had managed to change the outcome. Absent mindedly she kept the shield going at their back to make sure they wouldn’t be hit from behind.

Maybe it was the casual tone with which Violet had mentioned people treating her worse, or maybe it was the fact that she was apologizing, but Mira found herself speechless. Instead of talking, she reached forward and pulling the girl into a tight hug. There was so much that she wished she could do; Violet might be brave, but she was so young. It was easy to forget that, what with the way she carried herself, and her heart ached for this girl. Belatedly, she realized that she should have asked prior to the hug, and she quickly let go, taking a step back to give Violet space. “I’m sorry, but Violet- you shouldn’t have people treat you like that. Forget me. Nothing validates behavior like that.” She ran a hand through her hair, reminding herself not to speak so quickly. “Violet, you don’t ever have to apologize. Not when you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Actually, professor, I was going to say that the arithmancy department would hold up well without me, so luckily I’m not your assistant.  But, since you brought it up, yes.  Whoever said you were a competent professor is most obviously off his rocker.”  John sunk into one of the stray chairs, dumping his things rather unceremoniously beside him.  “Clearly they don’t know you as well as I do.”

“Clearly.” Ducking to hide her smile, she set her own cup down on her desk, opting not to sit down just yet. There was only so much sitting still that she could manage, and that meeting had certainly been too much. “For the record, I think the Arithmancy department might miss you. I couldn’t tell you, though.” She shrugged innocently, looking back at him again. “But, since you are sticking around, how is all of that going?” She asked with a grin, nodding at his stack of assignments. “You looked a little worse for wear when I walked in.”

“Right.”  He disagreed–and normally, he would have said as much.  But arguing about the validity of nonsense and fairytales was almost as much of a waste of time as actively consuming them.  “To each his own, I guess,” he added lamely, all but mumbling it under his breath.  If people wanted to be wrong, let them.  “Well..”

“Mhmm.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the topic any further. Fairytales were only good for one thing, and that was to distract. The moment she found something else which could fill that role, there wouldn’t be a need for silly dreams any longer. But for right now, she didn’t feel strongly about the topic one way or another, so she let it taper off. She opened her mouth to say something, but another yawn stopped her before she had begun. “Sorry,” she shook her head. “You’re not boring me, I swear. In all fairness, i’m not entirely sure that’s even possible.” The last part was more of an afterthought than anything, but the truth to it made her smile.

“How boring,” he replied flatly, picking up his coffee from around his armfuls of parchment and taking a long sip.  At her next comment, he nearly choked himself on it.  “Right, of course.  Very funny.  We both know that they’d never fire me because then Languages would fall apart, again.  Now, arithmancy, on the other hand…”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows shot up, but the grin on her face negated any note of seriousness the conversation might have held. “As I recall, this is my office. If I weren’t here, where would you leave all of your things?” She leaned forward slightly, looking smug as she continued. “And, if memory serves, someone told me I was actually a competent professor. But he must have been off his rocker, clearly.”

“Oh trust me. I do not underestimate you.” Jackson responded, again avoiding her gaze and taking a healthy swallow of his drink. But he made an effort to look at her as he continued talking. “I have no doubt you can handle far more than most people realize.” He then smirked handsomely albeit a little devilish. “I promise to keep the surprises at a minimum though. At least…for now.”

“You promise? Hm.” She hummed thoughtfully, then tossed back the remainder of her own drink. A small voice in the back of her head warned that this was a terrible idea, but she paid it very little mind. This was starting to feel more and more like a challenge, and backing off now seemed like the easy way out. “You know, you should only make promises which you intend to keep.” Letting her gaze slide back to meet his, she matched his smirk. “Or am I supposed to trust you?”

John snorted, lifting his head while shifting to cross his arms under his chin.  “So sorry to break you and your, ah, type up, but unless you’re going to ask me to grade your papers, too, it doesn’t count as a bribe.  I’m taking that coffee–at this point, it might be the only thing that can make these papers even remotely tolerable.”  After their last run-in, he had made it a point to check in on Mira as frequently as possible, to the point where it was more likely for him to be found near arthimancy than it was for him to be found near his actual class.  But, it was a necessary precaution–the last thing Hogwarts needed was for one of the only competent professors to go an get herself killed by being a bloody idiot. With another loud sigh, he set about very, very slowly gathering up his things, vacating the desk in favor of a more proper seat–one that wasn’t typically reserved specifically for the professor.  “How was your meeting?”

“Coffee can’t do the impossible, John.” She teased, a smile removing any possibility that she could have meant what she said. Setting down his cup on her desk, where he had apparently opted to set up camp. It never ceased to amuse Mira, how often she would find John sending time in the Arithmancy department. It was rather nice, actually, if she was being truly honest with herself. “Oh, it wasn’t terrible. Announcements, a few notes about the new witches and wizards- nothing too noteworthy.” Leaning her hip against the desk, she pretended to think for a moment. “Oh, and the Languages TA has been let go, effective immediately. My condolences. Best of luck finding a new job.”

He made an indignant noise, fumbling around his words for a minute before managing to get any sort of coherent sentence out.  “I know that.  I meant growing up.  Growing up.”

“Ah, right.” She hummed thoughtfully, watching the buildings they passed. “Then I think i’ll agree. There isn’t time for nonsense now. But,” dragging out the word, she glanced over at him. “I don’t think it should be entirely forgotten.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing loudly and unceremoniously dropping a roll of parchment on top of a messy pile of even more.  This was miserable work.  Perhaps even the worst.  No matter how much he reminded himself that technically they were only children, he couldn’t help but get increasingly frustrated with how utterly moronic nearly all of these essays were.  He groaned even louder, covering his face with his hands and kicking away from the desk–nearly toppling himself in the process.  It was only as he was righting himself that he noticed movement near the door–someone entering.  “They’re not graded,” he announced loudly, dropping his head against the desk without bothering to even check who it was.  “And I don’t take bribes.”

The instant that the meeting was over, Mira was making an impressively quick exit. It hadn’t been a full staff meeting, so it hadn’t been particularly lengthy, but it was still a meeting; tedious, and unfortunately necessary. There hadn’t been much to take from it, the two hot cups of caffeinated tea that she had managed to snatch from the staffroom aside. So when she was pushing open the door to her office, most of her ill will about the event had dissipated. Only, she wasn’t alone, and really, that should have surprised her. Well, at least it would save her a trip down to languages. She regarded him with an amused smile, head tilting a little to the side. “Fine, i’ll take both cups. More for me.”

He cleared his throat loudly, making a face before shrugging it off.  “Yeah, ah, lucky.  Something like that, I suppose.  I mean–it was nice growing up, I guess.  Our parents were–or, rather, I guess….Wendy’s always been imaginative.  Crazy stories, and what not.  But, I’m just not a…a particularly avid fan of fiction.  It’s child’s play.”  He made another face–that didn’t sound particularly right.  “I just prefer things that make more sense.  Things are supposed to work a certain way, and fairytales and magic don’t it into that.”

Before she could think twice about it, Mira laughed. She knew he hadn’t meant to be funny, but it all sounded a little ridiculous. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a smile, reigning in her composure with a deep breath. “Its just- you’re a wizard. I’m a witch. We live in a world where photograph’s have minds of their own and people fly. Maybe its just me, but that all sounds eerily close to fairytales and magic.”

Jackson pointedly looked her up and down a moment before locking his gaze on hers again. “A bloody shame.” He responded matter of factly. He hoped she would prove to be the kind of person who took risks. Especially since she was the kind of risk he was dying to have in his life. In fact…he wanted nothing more. “You’ll attract all kinds of surprises in heels like those..” He commented in a low voice, practically drowning out his words as he brought the glass to his lips again.

Mira raised her eyebrows at him, wondering if it was worth it to knock him off of that stool. Maybe on another night she might have done it, but there was something enticing in keeping up the charade. So instead, she looked down to examine her heels. “I may not prefer surprises, but I can handle them, Mr. Murray.” Looking back up, she flashed him a calculated smile. “I think you underestimate me.”

“Then I won’t.  Simple.”  He waved off her question, serious or not, and again focused on Thatch.  If anything, at least they could relate over how they felt about him.  “They’re alright.  Nonsense, mostly.  Fiction.”  A pause.  “And, my sister’s a much better storyteller. But, I suppose I’m biased.”

“Simple. Of course.” But she didn’t have any time to dwell on that, because she was looking to John in genuine curiosity, grinning. “Does she? Well, that sounds wonderful- having a storyteller in the family. You’re very lucky.”

John snorted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Well you don’t have to try to be busy to get rid of me, Professor.  Just say the word and I’ll go.”  While he meant it as  a joke, John was aware that his tone didn’t always match his intentions–it had always been an issue.  “Maybe,” he added half-heartedly, hoping that would do more to improve the sentence than to hurt it.  He laughed again as the conversation drifted towards Thatch, shaking his head.  “The day he gets himself organized is the day I lose my job and the day hell freezes over.  He’s….something else, I suppose.”

“And if I don’t want you to go?” Mira tried to bite her tongue—she really did—but the words were out of her mouth before she could hold them back. It wasn’t exactly something she could take back, so she tried to play it off as lighter than it was, laughing a little after a second. She wanted to keep her eyes facing front, but they kept looking to the side, at John. Well, maybe if they kept to safer topics, this walk wouldn’t be so terrible. Discussing school didn’t seem to get her into any trouble, so she decided to keep down that path. “Something else, yes. I’ll agree with that.” She smiled, running a hand purposelessly through her hair. “A fun colleague, though. I’ve heard some wonderful stories from that man.”

“I was going to say alcoholic, but complete mess works, too.” He snorted, though really he supposed he shouldn’t really be laughing.  It’s not like that was even remotely funny.  At her question, John shrugged, shoving his hands deep in his pockets while he stayed in step with her.  “I don’t mind.  I’m not in any rush to get back home, or anything.  And really, all I have to do is finish lesson plans, so it’s not something I have to take too seriously.  I mean, as long as I get them done, I’m taking them more seriously than Thatch.  He offered a small smile, but quickly he turned away, scurtinizing the different places they passed for no real reason at all. “And I’m never too busy if you need me for anything.  I’m, ah, here to help…and what not.”

That caught Mira by surprise and she looked over at John, her eyes growing soft. “I...thank you.” Again, she was thanking him. There was more that she wanted to say, but none of it fell under the ‘things you say to former students’ category, so she kept that locked away. “I don’t think I could be too busy for you if I tried.” And good lord, that was most definitely not meant to be said aloud. But her damn smile wouldn’t go away, so she just averted her gaze to look ahead of her. “I’m not surprised that you’re doing most of Thatch’s work, though. That man is a lot of things, but organized has never been one of them.”

“You’re welcome.”  He reached out a hand to her, thinking to offer it to her out of politeness or something else.  Before she could take it, though, he quickly pulled it back and rubbed the back of his neck, as if that’s what he had been planning on the entire time.  “You’re not?  I thought it was farther, honestly.  I’ve never been there at night–just, ah, you know.  In the daytime.  I didn’t even realize it was around here…since this isn’t really somewhere you visit in the day unless you’re…you know.”

“A complete mess?” She finished his thought, shrugging her shoulders easily. “No, I suppose it isn’t much of a hotspot during daylight hours.” Though, she supposed that she was something of a horrible mess, and she tended to avoid drinking during the days. “Well, i’m not right around the corner, but it isn’t too much of a trip.” With a tired smile, she started out of the bar, oddly reassured now that he would be with her. Not that it mattered that it was John accompanying her- anyone else would have put her at ease, too, right? After a moment, she looked back at him. “You’re sure you aren’t too busy? I can make it home on my own if you have somewhere to be.” It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but she felt it had to be said anyways.