Courage, dear heart

Perhaps it was ghost? But no one else had been reporting these sightings, Or had been sharing the same experience. Where was she to go now? Perhaps talking to the DADA Professor would be a good idea. She made sure that her brother would walk her to his office and wait outside. She didn’t want  to be alone anymore and vunerable. 

Veronica knocked on the door of his office. She stepped inside and made Zach wait outside. “Hello Professor.” She felt bad for disturbing him but she had enough of this nonsense. “I’ve been experiencing some troubles lately. It’s probably nothing but I’d like your opinion.” She took in a deep breath. “I’m used to being teased and picked on by the other students but..not like this. I don’t even know if it’s a student. But I keep getting tripped in the hallway, I even got bitten on my arm. I just…Do you think it’s possible a ghost is haunting me?” Saying it out loud made her realize how stupid she must have sounded. “You know what…I’m sounding crazy I’ll just leave you be, forget I said anything.”

Still, as Veronica continued to describe her situation, his mind set off. It could be a student, one with an invisibility cloak or one that had mastered concealment charms, but he almost dismissed the thought immediately - the actions she had described did not seem to match. He raised an eyebrow rather sceptically as she mentioned being haunted before speaking. "It is not 'nothing'," he replied in a gravelly voice, "but something that should be addressed, which is why I am glad you approached me. As for your theory of a ghost... It seems unlikely, given that the Castle's ghosts are harmless. Could you perhaps tell me of a particular incident in more detail?"

    Sitting at the table, attention that had been closely focused on the variation of crystals in the house point hourglasses was diverted to the man who was walking towards one of the three empty seats. The blonde recognized him as the professor of Defense against the Dark Arts (though his name had managed to slip her mind.) It wasn’t his general appearance that drew her away from her query as to exactly what gem stone was used for the Hufflepuff hourglass, but the way he walked; not with a limp, but noticeably stiff (noticeably to her, anyhow.) Though she didn’t mention her observation - a task that would have been difficult, considering the professor sat at the other end of the long table, though she wouldn’t have done so regardless - but upon seeing that discomfort that was caused when having to put weight on the leg, along with the slight tear in the fabric that covered the area, Victoire made a mental note that perhaps she should visit the man’s office later on in the evening.

    She quickly shot down the thought upon realizing that, as a DADA professor, he surely knew how to take care of his own injuries better than people with other professions. The counter argument was quickly followed by something along the lines of ‘it doesn’t hurt to ask’: and the meal was thus continued whilst Victoire debated against herself in her head. In the end, the first voice won, leading Victoire to the professor’s (the name was on the tip of her tongue. It would come to her eventually, she was sure) office around two and a bit hours after the dinner.

    Victoire rocked from her toes to her heels after knocking thrice on the door, awaiting a sign that it was okay for her to enter. Like she was a student again, apprehensive about asking for help on an assignment. Vic became close to leaving Professor Lind’s business to himself as she was sure he’d prefer it  — Lind. She knew she would get his name eventually. Hearing the voice from inside the room,however, forced her to open the door and take one step inside the office; she couldn’t exactly knock and run, not now she’d been acknowledged. “Hi,” She greeted him, closing the door behind her, the click of the door shutting breaking the silence that lingered after she spoke. “I, er, just thought I’d pop by and see if you wanted anything for your leg?” She probably should have mentioned that she noticed the injury during dinner, and didn’t just keep tabs on any of his minor or major medical needs. But, having finished her sentence and already regretting that the second voice wasn’t better in a debate, it was too late for that.

He raised an eyebrow at her question, glancing away momentarily to shuffle the papers on his desk into a neat pile, cursing in his mind. He had forgotten about the injury, if he was going to be entirely honest - taking weight off his leg was all that he thought he needed. It was an old injury that he had gotten while rounding up the last of the Death Eaters some twenty years ago that had been triggered when he had misjudged his footing while retrieving some rather adventurous third years from the Forbidden Forest. He had managed to rather hastily heal the rather deep cut he had gotten from a stray branch, leaving a somewhat smaller scratch, but despite his attempts to do something about his ankle, the pain continued to haunt him.

Anton looked back at the mediwitch - only one with a trained eye would have noticed the slight limp he had been trying his best to hide and ignore - and carefully considered her offer. He didn't feel as though he needed he sympathies, the pain was minor compared to other injuries he had experienced, but she had taken time out of her no doubt busy schedule judging by how little she was at dinner to stop by his office. And, he had to admit, he was rather out of his depth regarding how to heal the injury. "Perhaps something to dull the pain," he replied, looking her in the eye - it only hurt when he put weight on it, after all, "if it will not take you away from other duties, of course."

He took a sip of his tea as he sat down; he burned his tongue badly, wincing, but not wanting to make too much of a fuss. Part of him wanted to continue to impress Anton, just like the junior Aurors had always tried to impress the senior Aurors. That meant no whining and being less silly than he would be with his friends.

So few people ever called him Edward, it took him a second to actually process that it was his name - he did stop short of looking behind him for ‘Edward’. “Most people call me Ted or Teddy,” he remarked. “But I like Edward too! Love it. It’s a name that’s got a vintage feel to it.” Laughing, his eyes sliding across the marked and unmarked pile. “I was going to talk to you about patronuses and other things. Marking essays must be fun. Tick, tick, tick. Cross. No. And then putting that grade on at the end.”

Drinking was something that he had grown surprisingly comfortable with since the Battle of Hogwarts, and it was something he was unashamed to do in front of others. He could control himself after four, five, six glasses... Those he drank with, however, were generally a different story.

Anton brushed off the invitation to call him 'Teddy' - despite the relationship they had built over the years, he still preferred to retain a certain distance. He eyes flickered towards stack of parchment, and a slight crease appeared on his brow. "It is a necessary part of my job...one you do not experience, I presume, as a coach." He didn't mean to sound as though he were above the younger man because of his position - it was merely a failed attempt at making small talk. "Patronuses and...other things," he repeated, eyes resting on Teddy as he waited for him to elaborate.

Blood Status: Half Blood (two Half Blood parents) Wand Wood: Cypress, rigid Wand Length: 10 3/4" Wand Core: Phoenix Feather Pet: A Screech Owl, called Tys Broomstick: N/A Boggart: A Dementor Patronus: A Snow Leopard Amortentia scent: Candles after having been blown out, linseed oil, lemongrass Can see Thestrals?: Yes Skills: Very competent in spellwork, duelling, possesses wide range of knowledge on both magical and non-magical subjects, has excellent instincts  Weaknesses: Being open about anything, letting go of the past, seeming approachable OWLs:

Charms: Outstanding

Transfiguration: Outstanding

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

History of Magic: Outstanding

Ancient Ruins: Exceeds Expectations

Potions: Outstanding

Herbology: Outstanding

Astronomy: Outstanding

Muggle Studies: Exceeds Expectations

NEWTs:

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

Transfiguration:  Exceeds Expectations

Charms: Outstanding

Potions: Outstanding

Herbology: Outstanding

NAME: Anton Ronan Lind

ALIAS[ES]: N/A -although most people refer to him by his surname

DATE OF BIRTH: 14 September, 1969

GENDER | SPECIES: Male, Halfblood

PLACE OF BIRTH: Ballerup, Denmark

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Danish, English, somewhat fluent in French

OCCUPATION: Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts

DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: Yes | Occasionally | No

LIKE[S]:  being immersed in work, firewhiskey, Muggle and Wizarding History, passing his knowledge onto others

DISLIKE[S]:  attention, anything that wastes time without reason, letting others down, even the slightest moment of self-doubt

FEAR[S]: feeling afraid - so fear itself

PERSONALITY TRAITS: quiet, patient, loyal, private, hard working, valiant. observant, reserved, tough

DISORDERS: None.

{ P H Y S I C A L   I N F O R M A T I O N }

HAIR COLOR: Greying brown

EYE COLOR: Blue grey

HEIGHT: 5'11”

TATTOOS:  Small Celtic knot on upper inner arm

PIERCINGS: None

{ F A M I L Y   I N F O R M A T I O N }

SIBLING[S]: N/A

PARENT[S]: Sebastian Lind and Ciara O'Donoghue

CHILDREN: N/A

PET[S]: Tys (Screech Owl)

{ R E L A T I O N S H I P   I N F O R M A T I O N }

SEXUAL PREFERENCE:  Heterosexual

His class was an extra-curricular though - he tutored people and built on what they already knew. That was why he’d been meaning to talk with Anton. (Part of him felt he should call him Professor Lind or maybe sir, before he remembered he wasn’t a student or a trainee Auror.) The problem was, he wasn’t the easiest guy to pin down for a casual chat. He’d barely talked to him at all last year.

Sitting in his office, making a cup of tea, Teddy realised that he might as well go for it now, since he wasn’t doing anything in particular. He tapped his wand on the edge of the mug and watched the steam curl upwards, before dipping in the tea bag. Once the milk and sugar was in and the tea bag was out, he started to wander down to his class; he absently stirred the tea with his wand, waiting for it to cool down. He never heated it to the right temperature.

Teddy knocked on the door. Intimidating as he might find Anton, he didn’t hesitate to open the door once he got called in.

"Hello, Anton. Teddy here," he said, pointing to himself with his wand and then feeling foolish. He even felt slightly nervous with a wand being point at him, but he decided not to comment. "That looks like you’re having a very fun evening. You could be here all night. Need me to come back? Just came to talk to you."

Scowling at the cup in the young man's hands as though it had done him a personal offence, Anton quickly lowered his wand and slipped it into his robe, hidden, but as always, at the ready. He hated tea, any and all forms of the stuff. His wife used to call him mad, being a lover of the drink herself, but would merely scowl at her as he was now and take another drink of his firewhiskey. 

"No, you are quite alright," he replied in a low voice, making his way back around his desk, not turning away from Teddy for a moment. He raised a hand briefly towards the chair that sat opposite his own as an invitation to sit but remained standing himself as he gathered up the essays and sorting them into two piles, those that were marked and those that had yet to be so. He looked down at the younger man that he had come to know rather well through the years, his gaze intent and careful. "What would you like to talk about, Edward?"

Albus stood still in his place but his eyes followed the older wizard as he got up and moved around. He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting for him to do, but finding the answer among a textbook surely never popped into his mind.  Albus rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet as he waiting until Lind found what he was looking for. Once presented with a page of a book, Albus leaned in for a closer look. As the professor read out loud, Albus’ eyes followed along word for word. Albus took everything Lind said and everything he read and really thought it over.  Albus was certain from that point on that he wasn’t going to get a definite answer to his question.

Albus never realized what a hawk truly represented until that every moment that Professor Lind told him. Thinking over each word used to described it, he slowly started to make connections to himself. Everyone at Hogwarts knew how smart Albus was, that was no question. He, just like the bird, believed that he was loyal to those he held close to his heart. Maybe Albus was more alike to the hawk that he first thought. “I’ll defiantly look into that more, but may I ask for your opinion. Do you think that a hawk is a strong patronus? I guess why I’m asking is because I’m hoping the Ministry will grant my early request for becoming an Animagus and I just want to make sure I won’t regret it. You think it’s a good choice for me? Becoming an Animagus and what not?” Albus asked as he cocked a eyebrow as he stood there looking the older man with question in his eyes. 

Watching Potter consider the fact that his Patornus may have truly represented him was a seemingly slow, yet fascinating process. It was almost as though Anton were back in his first class of the day, supervising first years as they attempted a simple wand lighting charm. Perhaps it had been rather advanced magic for so early on in there year, seeing as they had only started flaunting around their wands, but gradually, the small classroom had grown brighter as some of the students had cast the spell successfully. Albus's eyes almost seemed to mimic that light as he made these connections, and Anton's mouth twitched slightly, the only indication that he was pleased that they had made some progress.

But may I ask for your opinion. Ah, that was a rather...unpredictable question to answer. Potter had either already made up his mind and was expecting a confirmation that is was right, or he was wanting Anton to tell him what to think - both of these scenarios, as Anton knew from experience, could end toxically. So, despite the fact that he thought the hawk was a strong, magnificent Patronus to have, just as he did with any Patronus, he refused to voice his opinion. "What do you think, Potter?" he chose to ask instead, his tone as quiet and steady as before. "Becoming an Animagus is not a choice to be taken lightly, nor is it an easy feat, but if you were to be successful, would you regret the action?"

Albus sighed a breath of relief when he heard that. Honestly what he needed help with could probably wait, but he was so bloody curious that he thought he might jump out of his skin if he didn’t figure it out right then and there. He actually had a few questions for the older wizard, but he would save some for a later date. “Excellent. I know it was after hours but I had a question for you. I know that some people are capable of producing a patronus and what not, and each takes on a different animal form. Well I discovered mine last year and…Well I’m not sure what to make of it.” Albus looked laced his fingers together as he spoke, almost like he was trying to recall the past experience. “Well you see, I produce a hawk. I know each have its own meaning and connects the producer on a certain level, but it’s the one thing I don’t understand how I relate to it. Think you could maybe help explain it?”

Albus wasn’t just curious about what his patronus meant. He just wanted to make sure that it was the right animal that he wanted to use. The animal that would serve to him when he would go down to the ministry on his birthday and request access to be granted the permission to be an Animagus. Albus just wasn’t sure if he really wanted to take the form of a hawk. He looked up when he realized that the older man began to speak. 

Anton remained still as Potter began rambling and the only sign that showed he was listening intently was his eyes narrowing slightly. "That is very impressive," he stated with a simple nod after hearing that Albus had managed to produce a corporeal Patronus. He might ave also added how advanced the magic was, or how he must have taken after his father, but he refrained: there was no doubt in his mind that Albus had heard as such countless times. Anton was not one to waste time nor his breath.

He remained sitting for a moment, just long enough to fully consider the boy's question before getting to his feet and making his way to the bookcase at the back of his office. It was nearly over flowing with books, some worn from use, some from his own time at Hogwarts, others newer, having been bought when he acquired his current post last July. Reading had always been something Anton had taken great pleasure in, just as any form of learning was. 

Selecting a book from the bottom shelf, Anton flicked through the list of various Patronuses it listed at the back as he made his way back to his desk, presenting the page to the boy when he reached him. "The form of one's Patronus have been the point of speculation for...centuries," he began as he perched on the edge of his desk. "Hawks are viewed to be the most intelligent of birds. They're hunters - they are designed to be sharp, focused and versatile, but they are far more loyal and graceful than they are given credit for." He folded his arms neatly across his chest and looked intently at Albus. "The book and further research may give you more information, but as you correctly said, a Patronus reflects the one who produces it, whether they realise it or not. You may disagree with its particular form, but it shows what we are perhaps too blind to see."

Yet here he was, slowly making his way down the corridor and to the classroom that he has grown familiar with over the years. He should have been down at the Great Hall, eating dinner with the rest of his house but he figured that now would be the best time to go seek help. A time where no one would see where he was going or what he was up too.  It’s not that he was embarrassed…Okay maybe he was a little bit. But he wasn’t asking for help on coursework like most other students did. No. He was going because he needed help with a side project and he could only think of one person to help. Professor  Lind.

It didn’t take long before Albus stood in front of the tall wooden door. He stared at the wood for a few moments, unable to move. Come on Albus, just knock. Surely it won’t be that bad. He sighed as he brought his hand to the door and slightly knocked. Once he heard the man’s words. Albus reached for the door knob and slowly turned it open. He first peeked his head in before he allowed the rest of his body to enter. “Excuse me sir. You aren’t busy I hope?” Albus asked. He could always come back later, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to do that.

He removed his hands from his robes, then lay his wand neatly on the desk next to his quill. “It is nothing that cannot wait,” he replied simply, moving the pile of parchment to the side and clasping his hands neatly in front of him. In all honesty, he was glad for the distraction. This was the part of teaching that made the work bearable - interacting with and teaching the students. Their young minds were a wonder to work with: unlike the spells and theory he taught, the students provided him with variety and new challenges on a day-to-day basis. 

Albus hadn’t moved in the few seconds of silence that followed Anton’s answer. If Potter hadn’t been there for a reason, Anton simply could have stayed as such and studied the Ravenclaw for several more minutes, seeing what else he could pick out about his unexpected visit - he had learned patience from his time as an Auror. A majority of people were surprised to find out about the amount of waiting around that came with the job, thinking it involved a steady stream of action. Waiting…yes, that was indeed something many people struggled with.

"How may I be of assistance?" he asked as Albus continued to remain silent, leaning his head slightly towards the empty chair on the other side of his desk should the boy wish to sit.