u r i e l

Cypress gave a small nod before a half forgotten second, “Thank you.”, found it’s way from his lips. He was quite fond of the windows, the natural light they gave proving too good of a source to pass up. Ever weak for still life, he still enjoyed people watching now and again and the street outside always seemed to offer up the most interesting sorts of characters to sketch quickly. Often older men whose age tended to show in the crinkles near their eyes.

He turned in an instant, making a beeline not for the window but for the right back corner instead. There lied the comfiest seats, perfect for hiding from the steady stream of wixen who came in and out of the café at peak times. It prevented too many wandering passerbys from staring in at you as well, only hoping to figure out what you could be discussing. Despite not being a student anymore, something about this interaction felt forbidden. Was it the ease they had slipped into this accidental meeting or the thrill of being able to call a professor by their first name? Cypress wasn’t sure but he wasn’t keen on being the subject of anyone else’s scrutiny for gaining a smile from the notoriously difficult professor.

Uriel eyed Cypress curiously as the young man headed for a secluded spot, which the professor greatly appreciated. Privacy was his most cherished treasure at any given time, and if he couldn’t shield himself from the voice inside his head telling him how wrong this was (why? how?) then he might as well hide from everyone else.

Nodding at the barista, an unseen gesture as the man was preparing their order already, Uriel walked up to Cypress’ chosen spot. He allowed himself a moment to take in the seats, which looked comfortably worn out but not cheap or dated in the slightest, before sitting down. It felt as nice as he had expected. “Perfect spot. Not to tarnish the compliment, but I would have picked that one myself. It is... comforting, not being out in the open. Warmer too.” But surely there were better topics to breech than the weather. “How have you been, studies aside? I hope you have hobbies or other things to keep you entertained.”

“It’s been often said my personality was my strongest trait but your sentence sounds much more favorable.” Uriel was, again, surprisingly enjoyable outside of the castle walls. There seemed to be a life to the older man Cypress had never seen or never noticed.

Cypress paused, looking fully at his former professor with a thrill in his eyes. Uriel. In some respects, Cypress finally felt grown. “If you’re sure, Uriel. Thank you.” He looked to the menu board once more, feigning reading to take the moment to gain some composer over his small victory. “Today’s Brew and you’ve reminded me the lemon cake is worth it.”

“Ah,” Uriel simply said before going silent for a second. He had heard some of his colleagues discuss the boy’s apparent disdain for most of his classmates over the years, as well as his solitary and stubborn tendencies. In Uriel’s eyes, Cypress was a young man who knew what he wanted and what he was worth. There was reason to take pride in those qualities. Always polite but firm, Uriel had defended Cypress to the point, he thought, that his colleagues rather badmouth him once he turned his back than one of their students. Good.

He couldn’t explain why he felt so protective of the young man standing by his side then. Maybe because he saw something of himself in Cypress, albeit a less broken version. He may have simply done what he could to ensure Cypress wouldn’t feel the need to hide his qualities or snuff out the fire he had in him.

“That sounds fair.” Uriel turned to the waiting barista, appraising the list of drinks. “Two slices of lemon cake, one of today’s special, and a... classic gunpowder tea?” Whatever that was. It sounded nice enough. Turning back towards Cypress it was easy to find the smile he hadn’t put on for the barista. “Do you have a favourite spot? I’d like to know more about what you’ve been up to.”

Cypress drew his attention to the menu board, trying to decide what to get. Today’s brew was calling his name and he hadn’t tried that specific blend before. At the question, he shot a glance in Uriel’s direction. “I do. Am I that predictable?” The café did have quite a large resemblance to Greenhouse 2 and lended Cypress a lot of comfort in his transition from his home of the past seven years. 

He ran a hand through his hair, entire aware the style wasn’t one to be mused from a few brushes of his fingers, while watching the professor with curiosity. He couldn’t begin to guess what the older man’s taste buds gravitated towards. Lemon cake was not a high guess. “Promising is a rather underselling guess. Sir, their cakes are indescribable. You’ll have to try it yourself.” Chocolate was fine and good for most situations but Cypress’s upbringing had led him to have a refined palette. One that would often go for fruit based over a high sweetness.

Uriel shot a smile at Cypress, something he noticed he had been doing a lot since their earlier meeting. Not that he never smiled at the boy before, but he had never wanted to be accused of blatant favoritism. Besides, he never wanted to risk being seen open at work. Here, though, was a different story. “I would never use that work for you, Cypress, it doesn’t do you any favours. Rather I’d say you have a strong identity.”

Something bugged Uriel about being called ‘sir’ again. It was better than ‘professor’ by all means, but... No, he was being silly. Of course it was the only proper way for Cypress to address him, as requiring first name-basis would be too... Too something. He didn’t know what exactly, but something Butler senior would not encourage. What am I thinking, Uriel sighed for himself, cowering in fear at the mere thought of my father. Thirty-four and still a scared little boy. “If they are so good as to gain high praise from you, then I must have some. What will it be for you, Cypress? Oh, and do call me Uriel, if you wish. There is no need for the deference anymore, is there?”

Uriel small smile kept Cypress’s grin on his own face before a quiet ‘what?’ passed through his own head. He had an interest in seeing more of the older man’s smile and interest in someone other than himself was few and far between. It had to be the titillating conversation. That or the stream of compliments he hoped would come of it. Nothing more.

“Sir, you don’t have to do that.” A treat wasn’t also something he would turn down. Politeness was all a show everyone was expected to participate in. It would all be much simpler if Cypress could just accept without protest and say his thanks straight away but where was the fun in that. With a nod, he led their way through the streets to a more upscale yet hip establishment than the likes of the Leaky Cauldron or Ross Lee Teabag. It had a tendency to cater to the nouveau rich but it was the best they were going to do in this area. “But thank you.”

The young blond boy opened the door to Tamper, watching Uriel’s face carefully for a reaction. He very much doubted this was his former professor’s scene. The music playing couldn’t have been his taste but then again Cypress wasn’t too sure what Uriel’s tastes were. He should find out. “Their tea selection is unmatched.”

Indeed Uriel didn’t have to do anything, much less entertain a man over a decade younger than him. But that was mostly his father’s ghost speaking and besides, Uriel meant nothing much by it. He wanted to make sure Cypress was doing alright, and there was no reason not to enjoy good company when he found it.

The place Cypress took him was entirely unknown to Uriel, as he had expected, but he found it was a very Cypress place somehow. The decor was not fancy in the meaning of the word Uriel was used to, but a lot of flowers or small potted plants made it feel like a cleaner version of the greenhouses he had so often found his former pupil in. The smell was a mix of sugar, coffee, chocolate, and something lighter – probably fruit or flowers and herbs for the tea selection Cypress had mentioned. Indeed there was a large blackboard with various names on it and the inscription in bold letters in the middle: ‘Today’s Brew: Rose and Hibiscus Cold Brew! Get Freshened Up With Tea!’

“I am not surprised you would find a place like this. Or know of it. Do you sketch here sometimes?” Looking around, he tried to find a comfortable place to sit while also keeping an eye on the cakes on display. He really shouldn’t indulge, but would Cypress agree to eating something if he was the only one to do so? “That lemon cake looks... promising?”

An eager nod was the blond’s response, the smug smile not moving from his face. How could anyone think another way? A closed society, perhaps some respectable halfbloods wasn’t too much to ask for was it? Cypress leaned against the the stack of canvas’s eager to drink in all the compliments Uriel had for him. This is what he deserved, for someone to recognize his brilliance and then list it to him. Not being stuck in a class of students too focused on their band to even think of contributing to an intellectual discussion. “Sir.” was the only protest to leave his lips. He couldn’t have anyone thinking he truly enjoyed the compliments, regardless of how well deserved. That just wasn’t polite. Though he was in no hurry for Uriel to stop. “I’ve been told I’m one of kind.” 

Had it always been interesting to speak to his former professor? From what Cypress could remember, it had always felt like a chore but perhaps that was due to the older man’s insistent that art couldn’t be a career. It seemed like Cypress had proven him wrong. Finally. Cypress was about to say more when a witch with what seemed like a gaggle of young loud children flooded the aisle. Wasn’t it too early for children to even consider being awake? An eye roll was the only sign besides the dropping of the smile Cypress gave of his disappointment in being interrupted. “Would you have any interest in grabbing a cup of tea? I seem to have become overcome with a headache. It must be the caffeine withdrawal.” Without waiting for an answer, Cypress slinked around Uriel and out of the aisle. The more space between himself and those beasts the better. His brush could wait. “I want to hear more about these fires.” And how interesting he was.

Uriel’s smile was rarely genuine, but he found Cypress’ peacock-like ways at being complimented quite heart-warming. Politeness forced him to deny his former professor’s words, but both of them knew the full extent of Cypress’ potential. Or did they? Uriel was ready to be amazed.

Contrary to the younger man, Uriel couldn’t stop himself from wincing at the sudden increase in noise in the shop. He got worried for a minute that it would cut his time with Cypress short, but the student was quick to think of a far more pleasant solution. The potions teacher followed with a barely suppressed smile, sighing happily once they got out.

“Do you have a place you’re particularly fond of, Cypress?” He asked, looking around. Uriel was a recluse of sorts, therefore he had no idea where the good spots were, even after years of visiting the town. That was the danger that came with only ever going to the same shops over and over again. “Feel free to go wherever you want, it’ll be my treat.”

Cypress bit down on his lower lip to repress a smile. He had forgot the older man’s distaste of muggles and those of lesser blood extended far beyond his own. “That’s not their vision, sir.” He wondered if polite disagreement was more acceptable now that he was out from under the man’s tutelage. “They want interconnectivity, harmony, and every other buzzword they can think to place on a pamphlet. It’s apparently one of their selling points.” And one of the reasons his parents pushed him to attend. It was the best program for professional artists in their world and his family’s view of society wasn’t the most popular at the moment. It didn’t look good to seem close-minded or old fashioned, especially not if you wanted to make it in the world.

“My potential?” This did illicit a genuine smile from Cypress. He had missed the compliments the professors at Hogwarts had showered him in. Especially Professor Uriel’s. His new teachers, while complimentary, seemed to believe all of the new students were on the same level. He could only do so many still life assignments. “It’s quite early in the year to tell if anyone…has the same ideals as I do. I find myself spending time with old friends more often than not.” Cypress wasn’t particular close to many other people his age except for family friends. And there was no question on how they thought. “Has the castle gone quiet with my class gone?”

Uriel snorted softly, shaking his head in disbelief. What was the world coming to? “Those people are so dedicated to forcing their lifestyle on us, they wouldn’t let us live in peace in our own corner, if that was something we wanted. Hogwarts is much the same, and all that leads to is sub-par teachers.” He pursed his lips firmly for a moment, mindful to slow down his breathing. This was not the time to start ranting: meeting a former student on accident was agreeable, especially when said student had been one of his favourite. There was no need to ruin the moment.

“Your potential, indeed. Your skills have yet to be matched, from what I observed from the current students back in Hogwarts. Furthermore you have the dedication, ideals, and ambition necessary to make your art more than empty reproductions of life. Talent is more than knowing how to hold a brush.” At first, his endorsement of Cypress’ hobby and the compliments he handed out here and there had mostly been means to an end. They had soon grown to become genuine as time went by, Uriel growing more interested in his pupil’s evident passion with each sketch he saw. And somehow, Cypress’ opinion on lesser bloodlines had ceased to be Uriel’s priority. “I appreciate you being careful on the matter. It is best to proceed with caution and finish your schooling quietly, rather than find yourself with unwanted attention. Expressing one’s opinion isn’t always welcome anymore.”

It seemed daring to refer to his former teacher by his first name wasn’t too daring at all. If the older man’s reaction was anything to judge by. “So nice to see you as well.” He replied, easily slipping into the polite tone of voice he used with any type of authority figure. His former teacher didn’t need to hear his surprise of the uncrowded streets, which for all intensive purposes should be filled to the brims with ragamuffin children. Maybe it was the early hour that allowed Cypress to browse the stores in peace.

“Art school is…Well, more unlike Hogwarts than I dreamed.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. It was delightful to be surrounded by others so seriously focused on their craft but the proximity to muggles was aggravating. He’d never had to worry about breaking the statue of secrecy before but now if he even wanted a latte it was a cross-community negotiation.

Never one to take muggle studies, Cypress expected his opinion would be well received by Uriel. Was he still to call him Professor Uriel? Surely not forever. “Did you know the campus is shared with muggles? I don’t know how they expect us to learn with such a distraction.” He hadn’t said as much to his new classmates of mostly muggleborns and half-bloods. It was still too early in their schooling to find likeminded cohorts.

Uriel nodded slowly at Cypress’ admission. Hogwarts was its own world, and while students left the prestigious school academically prepared for whatever came next, they had to learn how to navigate an entirely different place. Some found it too complicated and thus decided never to leave the sanctuary of school, much like Uriel himself. Not to mention he was as far removed from his family as could be, that way.

@thundernterror

Diagon Alley was horrific for a number of reasons. The people, the smells, the children. All of these came to mind but Cypress could admit, for once, he may have assumed these things. His main reasoning for coming to this conclusion was his own experiences with the place. They only took place before the Hogwarts school year to buy the items somehow sold only in one location for hundreds of students. June was a joyous time to inhabit Diagon Alley. It was a rather nice day, only the need for a light sweater. The children were nowhere to be seen and for once the art supply store was nearly empty. Cypress could feel his gloomy mood lifting as he walked the aisles trying to find the exact kneazle hair brush on his list. Graduation from Hogwarts had him on cloud nine until he realized his Ministry affiliated art graduate programme was on the campus of the Royal College of Art. Muggles. The feeling of magic in the air was enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief. Add the lack of annoyances, smells, and loud noises, it was practically a gloom be gone. A happiness that was quickly turning into curiosity. A former professor who must have been turned around to be in this store? “Professor Uriel?” The words came from Cypress’s mouth before he had enough forethought to slip away. He had graduated. It wasn’t as though his old teacher would have any interest in him. Especially if he was no longer forbidden fruit.

Uriel liked wandering around Diagon Alley in the quiet months. As a teacher he no longer needed to go on the yearly trip for books and cloaks, but he found himself missing the ritual in spite of himself. He made up for it by looking for potion ingredients there rather than harvest it from Hogwarts’ greenhouses. He wouldn’t trust whatever the Herbology teacher planted in those.

Another upside to walking around Diagon Alley was the opportunity to walk inside any shop that caught his eye. At that moment it was the cosy and bright art supplies store with its cheerful displays of colour and its smell of charcoal and parchment. Touching paper sheets with his fingertips and smiling at nothing in particular, Uriel was surprised to hear his name coming from somewhere down the aisle.

His smile subsided before coming back at the sight of Cypress Bae a few feet away from him. Uriel didn’t miss the fact that his former student had used his old moniker for the older man, the polite and respectful ’professor’ attached to Uriel’s first name, breaking the illusion before it even settled.

“I do hate to require you to specify but, sir, what purpose is art for if not for the sake of art itself?” He should probably say thank you for the wonderfully doled out compliment from the potions professor. It was rare he heard Professor Uriel compliment other students but it seemed to be directed his way more often than not. This couldn’t be, no. Cypress felt silly almost thinking such a thing. It was much more up the other professors’ alleys to proposition a student.

Ah, how sweet was that, how naive? Uriel let go of his stony façade and shot Cypress a smile that was nearly tender. He was young, after all, despite the maturity he displayed. Being superior to other students didn’t make the young boy less of a child. “From the moment it was first used, art has always served a purpose. No one does art simply for the sake of art, Cypress, and if they tell you this they are either lying to you or themselves. You can use art to soothe yourself, to keep some facts or practices in the collective memory; you can use it to attack and defend, and most importantly you can use it to convince. Art is a weapon for both educated and uneducated alike, if you know how to wield it. People can get used to, and even accept, a message if it is well hidden behind a beautiful exterior. Don’t you think?”

“Of course I will.” It was hard to not eat his fill of the vegetables when his distaste for meat was widely known. Aurel busied himself with eating, unsure of why his brother wasn’t also here. “That’s wonderful to hear. I’m doing well. I am sure my friends could argue against me saying I’m getting enough sleep but I believe I am. Do you believe my grades are holding up?”

Hearing the assured or implied safety of their meeting, Aurel took a breath and relaxed. Though didn’t allow his posture to falter. He smiled to himself, noting his Godfather had not gotten the update about his vegetarianism. A decision he made a few years ago. Still, Aurel took a small piece of beef wellington for appearance sakes. “Thank you. It looks…wonderful.” Aurel often toed the line of appropriate conversation and fear. He worried of overspeaking but didn’t want to come off as not polite. “Uncle, have you been well?” Aurel hadn’t seen much of him after not continuing his potion’s education in seventh year.

Rumours weren’t rare in a school filled with teenagers, especially when some teachers weren’t much older themselves. But the persistent ones could become a thorn in the school’s reputation, which eventually prompted Uriel to go look for Eugene Barnes after the last period of the day.

After helping one lost first year and confiscating one bubble machine from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Aurel was officially late for lunch with Uriel. He knocked on his godfather’s office door lightly before opening the door. In any other social situation, Aurel would wait for a response but the guilt of possibly making his Godfather wait longer was too imposing.

“Uncle Uriel, I’m so sorry! There was a sobbing first year turned around by Peeves. I didn’t intend to make you wait.” He took the familiar place across from his godfather, perhaps a seat more often containing his brother than him. Aurel wasn’t sure what his godfather’s sudden interest in seeing his second godson was but he could only hope it wasn’t his father’s doing. “Is everything alright?”

“Utterly so.” Cypress was always careful with his words, even if the professor’s presence was quickly veering into ruining his time spent in Greenhouse A. He looked from his own sketchbook to Professor Uriel with a slight curiosity. What was the older man saying? Art was a noble cause. He could see himself perfectly as the muse of a rich patron or designing works to adorn both mansions and government funded projects. “Twenty years. Why, Sir, I’ve never considered that far ahead. We’ve only just begun discussing post schooling plans with our Heads of House.” It was difficult to keep his voice at it’s sweet nature when the teacher was insulting his very livelihood.

Houses were not all that, Uriel knew it, but he sometimes had to remind himself of the fact. Back when he was a student himself, many people had emitted doubts regarding his sorting: his being in Ravenclaw was strange, not only because the Butler family had a strong preference for Slytherin, but also because Uriel knew what he wanted and how to get it. Yet his ways were most often acquired through extensive knowledge, and even what he wouldn’t use he couldn’t find it in him to discard, and so Ravenclaw it had been.

Cypress reminded him of himself, sometimes. He simply hoped it was in more ways than one as he pushed the matter further. “Ah, of course. It feels a little late to me, considering how full of potential some students here can be. Of course others... Well, it doesn’t take OWLs results to know they won’t be going far. But you could get a very important position in our society, Cypress. Even if you did pursue art it would be better used for a higher purpose than, well, the sake of art.”

Hogwarts used to be prestigious. Not in Uriel’s time, it had been too late by then already, but one of his ancestors must have known it as an institution to be proud of. Nowadays it reeked of muggle food and muggle blood, while the purest breeds of wizards out there were being frowned upon. And for what? Trying to keep their community alive, thriving? Uriel resented the current state of things, the headmaster’s mindset. Going as far as allowing that guy to teach...

Taking a deep breath, the potions teacher buried his heinous thoughts as deep as they would go as he reached his target — or, as fate would have it, colleague. “Lerman. Did you get the plants I asked for? I need them first class on Monday, and I’d rather not waste an entire period due to lack of ingredients.”

It was lunchtime on a Monday, and Uriel was waiting to see if Aurel, his godson, had any intention of joining the Potions teacher for his meal as he had been invited to do. He should have made it more of a ritual early on, Uriel supposed. Maybe if he had given the boy proper guidance he wouldn’t have ended up that way. Then again Aurelius was a good father and a right example for his children, and since Amulius had turned out all right there had to be something wrong with Aurel.

He wouldn't put it that way. Not to his godson at least, not out loud. He didn’t want to incriminate or point fingers, he was just... slightly disappointed.