#wigto

He missed the sounds of the kids running about the castle grounds. At first, breaks like this were welcomed. A time where he could catch up on some reading and pay those close to him the proper amount of attention he had always meant to show but had somehow managed to get caught up. As the days stretched on so did the uncommon calm and silence. It was around this time when he would start to become anxious about the return of his students. That simple attribute had set him apart from a lot of his other predecessors (with few other exceptions). The head of Slytherin house positioned himself behind the desk of his office. At the corner of the room was a record player emitting a constant tempo of jazz, filling the room with an excitement the atmosphere would have lacked without it. He had gone on a quick trip to Egypt earlier in the day, something made possible thanks to good old apparition. The difficult rune scripture he had been asked to translate lay before him on the wood of his desk, a relief copy which he had done with a simply piece of parchment and graphite. Off the bat, he could tell it would take some time to translate but he was eager to do something other than getting his lesson plans organized. Resting his elbows just beside each side of the parchment , his knuckles on his right grazed the spine of one of the books that was floating just beside it, spine opened to reveled it's mysteries. In fact, there were a number of opened texted floating around him. It was a charm that was commonly used by Erik Schrimgeour. It helped him investigate a number of books easily without the hassle of going back and forth. It was day time, but due to his office being in the dungeons, a fire was blazing in the fireplace to his left, the streaks of light adding emphasis to his locks of dirty blond. The fire must have been magical though, because the heat didn't seem to affect Erik who was wearing his trademark turtleneck. Then again, it was summer... and he was wearing his trademark turtleneck. Scratching at the scruff on his chin, he continued to work intensely until a low meow was emitted from the entrance of his office. What would have been his grey tabby cat, was instead a bright blue feline that pushed opened the wooden door. For a cat, it seemed more intelligent that most. At least, that's how she made it seem as she looked around behind her, before taking off in a dash to hide under his desk. It was instead a tactic to hide from the perpetrator who caused her discoloration. "Muffins," the tone of concern was something odd to hear from a man that looked the way he did. His features were rigid but if you heard him, looked into his green optics, anyone would know that was almost hardly the way his personality could be described. He loved a lot of good and wholesome things. He also loved his cat who seemed adamant about hide by the way she attempted to claw at his reassuring reach. There was only one reason any of this could have happened, one reason Muffins was acting the way she was. He knew that very reason would end with perusing his pray, perhaps looking to finish the job since the cat's tail was still a gloomy gray. "I've asked him a thousand times," he grumbled though the thought of the attacker was enough to minimize his annoyance for one of elation. Otto always seemed to have that affect on him. He'd probably get away with this little ordeal again, like he always did.

Blueberry muffins. Those little flakes of pastry goodness mingled with the perfect addition of those little purple fruits that Otto could never understand the name of. Blueberry? Why blue? They always dyed his fingers purple. But turning Muffins, Erik Scrimgeour's cat, into a purpleberry muffin didn't really seem like it would get the message across. What message? So, message might have been a wrong word to use. Honestly Otto Bagman (the III, as he's apt to remind people) just happened to love blueberry muffins and couldn't resist attempting to completely change the cat into his favorite kind. "Who ever heard of grey muffins anyway?" The Caretaker mumbled to himself in the empty hallways. When Summertime rolled around he often found himself needing something to keep him occupied. With the kids running around during the school year it was easy to find something to do, find something to tend to, anything to keep him concentrated and out of trouble. But Summer? That left him to his own devices like dying Erik's cat different colors. Was he really meaning any harm by any of it? Absolutely not. Anyone who knew Otto knew he was nothing but gentle. In fact, some people seemed to think he was rather slow and not all there when the opposite was true. "Muffins!" He hollered out, nearly tripping over the hem of his pants as he ran down the stoned hallway deeper and deeper in the castle towards the dungeons. Turning the corner rather fast, Otto nearly bypassed the doorway before he managed to literally stumble in, immediately looking around for the cat before focusing on the one man who could always make a rather ridiculously goofy smile cross over his features. "Oh. Um... I wasn't looking for Muffins, or anything. At all. Like that..." With a valid attempt at trying to keep a straight face, the former Gryffindor jammed his hands into his pant pockets, bright blue eyes reluctantly pulling away from the Slytherin before him. "Aren't you hot?" An eyebrow arched steadily as he moved further into the room. "I mean....wait, I didn't...." It wasn't that Otto got fumbled up with his words often or had a speech impediment, but between trying to look innocent combined with the natural effect Erik had on him, he wasn't all that good at focusing his attention on what he was saying. "At least it's a nice one. Have you seen Michael Phillip Christian Bagman? I swear Muffins took him from me..." It might not have been fair to blame the innocent cat but Otto did it as easily as a child would blame their sibling for something. "Have you seen him lately? Muffins. I swear, I was walking down the hallway minding my own business and then suddenly I see a blue trail dart around the corner and well... I don't know who would do such a thing." Despite the dim lighting down in the dungeons it was obvious there was a twinkle in the Bagman's eyes, perhaps it was something inherited by his Uncle - never really able to commit mischief without it being present. Sidestepping into the room a bit more, Otto sifted idly through the papers upon the desk, his body unconsiously moving in time to the soft jazz that was leaving the record player. "You're not working on that boring stuff again are you, Wiggy? It's Summer. Even if you're a Professor, you should be relaxing and doing fun stuff. Godric help me if you say that this is fun. It looks confusing. And....ancient. And....did I mention confusing?" Holding up what looked like chicken scratch, at least to him, the shorter man turned on heel with a lopsided goofy expression pulled across his rather young features. "Dying Muffins is more fun than -- I mean....." Clamping his mouth shut he tried to look as innocent as possible even if he knew without a doubt Erik already knew what he'd been up to.

The moment his menace arrived by the door he shook his head in an attempt to convey his disappointment in the man. Instead the message would have been confusing, as he was suppressing a smile that eventually broke its hold and allowed his teeth to shine. He leaned back in his seat, raising a hand so he could rest his index finger on his temple as he eyed the Gryffindor with a raised brow, listening to his excuse—er explanation. “Hmm, yes I wonder who would do such a thing?” He sneaked in a wink before addressing the Runes and text on his desk. “You should know me by now Toto” he used his own nickname for the man in retaliation for the Wiggy one, emphasizing it with a bit of a playful tone. “This is more fun for me than crocheting—which by the way, I finished that pillow case for you.” He sat up, eying the younger with a forced, stern expression. “I knew it was you, tsk tsk. Don’t make me put all those Weasleys in detention with you when school starts. I’ll do it. I’ll write’em up for, oh, I dunno… breathing.” At the end of his sentence he stood up, poking Otto’s nose with the tip of his finger. It might have been seen as a juvenile gesture but it was more a sign of affection from the man. “Chappy, give me a bit more credit, I think I know you’re work.” He gestured over to the cat who was still hiding under the table. “The dye job’s not even.” He chuckled, then wrapped an arm around the younger’s shoulder to point out the scriptures with his free hand. “They’re from Egypt, recently discovered. I can’t imagine how old they must be.” There was a tone of enthusiasm that anyone could have picked up from him. It was obvious he loved his line of work, perhaps more than some would. “Did you know there are dozens of deep caverns underground that most muggles don’t even know about? They’re incredibly beautiful and fascinating. Oh, and the runes!” Unsure of whether he was boring Otto he cleared his throat to finish off. “Well, I’d consider showing you myself if I was confidant in thinking you wouldn’t break anything.” He chuckled, returning both arms to his side as he made his way towards the record player. “Only a few more weeks,” he turned the knob on the side to decrease the volume emitting from the horn on the side. “The kids will return and you’ll have to try and set a good example again,” he did it again. He gave him that stern expression which once again fell short due to his more personal feelings. Erik had learned long ago in their school days that Otto wasn’t something he could fight and why would he? Erik didn’t always opt for what people thought was boring like runes, crocheting, and reading. He had a love for the eccentric too and Otto Bagman (let’s not forget the III) was the most eccentric person he had come to know. The last thing to have ever crossed his mind—if at all—was keeping away from him. “So no more torturing my cat, yes?” He didn’t know why he was asking. He’d find Muffins running back in, dyed whatever color Otto felt like bestowing on him that day. It’s just how it was and while he felt badly for the cat he couldn’t help but smile at Otto’s amusement by it. “Anyway, if you’re going to insist on hanging by my side then we should do something more appealing to the both of us.”

Wigto