Little Green Balls of Mush

What a miserable evening, Robert thought to himself as he slid into a chair at an empty table near the fire and he set the noisy wooden box he carried on the table and gave it a sharp rap to reprimand it. It was cold tonight, and while he had a rare evening off, it certainly didn't mean he didn't have things he should be doing. He had paid for a scotch--double, neat, and he lit a cigarette and sighed, exhaling slowly, hoping that either the scotch or the nicotine would nurse away his lack of sleep and his ever increasing migraine. Robert didn't smoke often,except if he were exceptionally stressed, but his head was pounding, and the way he figured it, he deserved a little bit of relief.

He really hated what he saw as a lack of competent skills in Ms. Audra Prewitt, and he had certainly heard the staff calling her Ms. Audra Nitwitt. He hadn't said a syllable either way, but while he had complimented her on her fine abilities to calculate statistics, she seemed to make some very critical errors where the Unspeakables were concerned. She had told him that she wanted to replace them all with younger wizards, perhaps some Hogwarts apprentices. She believed that older wizards were too old for the job. She called it a 'young man's game.' Never mind that the only one that Robert trusted for extraction work was Michael, and his trust had not been misplaced. Time after time, Michael managed to rescue agent after agent. And that brought up another topic.

Prewitt herself had blown a classified assignment and had endangered two different Unspeakables in different countries on the continent. Michael could not be in two places at once, and Robert had had to go and extract one of the agents himself. It had cost him four days' work at St. Mungo's, not to mention the same amount of sleepless nights. However, the agent was back safe and sound, and Michael had returned triumphant as well, no thanks to Prewitt. To make matters worse, he'd gotten into a duel somewhere in the continental backyard to nowhere whatsoever, and his opponent had blown Robert's wand apart literally. It was in two distinct pieces, the precious core fried to nothing but ash. He had picked up the pieces and, when he'd gotten back, had taken it to Paul Ackerman at Ollivander's who said that, once the core was replaced and the broken wood, it amounted to an entirely new wand. Ackerman had matched him up with a less than adequate wand temporarily and had promised to work on an impressive new one for him and to have it available as soon as possible. just to be safe, Robert had gone across the street to Slugs and Jiggers and had bought a pouch of floo powder from Doyle so he could get around if he had to. He'd not been happy to lose the plain, inexpensive wand that had seen him through all his days at Hogwarts and beyond. Ackerman had suggested he wold benefit from a finer wand anyway. Yes, but that wasn't the point, was it? He was attached to the old wand, like an old friend, and speaking of old friends, he needed to find a way to get the contents of the noisy box back to Michael--in a sufficiently passive aggressive manner--when he could think of something dastardly enough.

Perhaps it had been the two weeks of nonstop rain and dreary weather, or perhaps it was the complete solitude of the past three years that had finally convinced Thaor to sell the small property he had been calling home since leaving his life, and friends behind in London. Either way, he was happy to be leaving the avocado farm behind.

With all of his belongings safely packed into his suitcase, Thaor put on his emerald green traveling cloak, and he walked out of the house for the last time, and moments later was outside the Leaky Cauldron.

He took a deep breath as he opened the door, and walked to the bar and ordered a butter beer, before finding a table in the back corner, and taking a seat.

Thaor raised the glass to his lips and took a healthy swig before nearly spitting it out at the sight of Robert. He knew he'd run into him eventually, but didn't expect it to be so soon.

Robert was looking to unwind by blowing lazy smoke rings from his cigarettes up towards the ceiling, and as he glanced down to make sure he was actually flicking the ash in the ashtray and not somewhere else, when he thought for a moment he had seen Thaor. He flicked the ash into its proper place and took a second look. Sure enough, it certainly was Thaor. To the best of Robert's knowledge, he'd never seen Thaor have a convincing doppelganger, and it made him wonder what strange wind had brought Thaor back from wherever his wanderlust had taken him this time. Thaor did appear to have seen him too. He hadn't noticed Thaor when he'd come in, and it made Robert wonder how long he'd been here. He got up with all intentions of going over to Thaor to talk to him, and the moment he got up, the box on the table started to shriek and knock and make all sorts of foul noises.

"Stop that at once, or I'll toss you inside a paperweight for the next five hundred years, you menace," Robert banged on the box, and it stopped the noise making immediately. The boggart didn't know Robert didn't have his wand, and Robert was content in leaving it that way. He went over to the table where Thaor was, taking his cigarettes and his scotch, and leaving his coat, hat, and noisy box at his table in order to reserve the table, more or less.

"Well, I'll be," Robert said with a smile. "I didn't expect to find you here, of all places. What on earth brings you back to London again, Thaor?"

Thaor watched with amusement as Robert got up, and threatened the boggart in the box. As Robert walked over, Thaor smiled, remembering that Michael had often set a boggart loose on Robert, and wondered if this was the source of tonight's boggart.

Did Michael set a boggart loose on you again? He asked with a chuckle. Although it had been a couple years, it seemed not much had changed since he left.

You know I'm a creature of habit Robbert. As much as I think I want to leave and get away, I eventually come back to what I know and love. he said, taking another sip of butterbeer. Thaor reached into his cloak and took out a bag of avocados and handed them to Robert. I sold the old family farm, growing avocados was fun for a bit, but it gets tiresome, especially during the rainy season. These are the last of this seasons crop, thought you'd make good use of them. he said with a smile.

"Yes, well some things seem to never die out, do they? Michael and I have had this back and forth pranking going since we were first years in Hogwarts, and I doubt its ever going to change. However, Flint did me absolutely no favors by giving Michael that stupid boggart. I think I have him this time, though. I need to somehow convince that boggart to show up as Walburga Black in a wedding gown. As much as he hates that portrait of Walburga in Grimmauld Place, and as much as he hates marriage, I think it should fix him up good and proper if that boggart appeared as Walburga in a wedding gown. That ought to be good for a month or so's peace."

"Avocados," Robert said with a smile. "Thank you. I will put them to good use. I had forgotten exactly what your family farmed, and I certainly didn't see you going home to do that. Didn't see that as being exactly your speed. I saw you as needing more excitement in life than that.

"Well, let's see. What have you missed? Oh. Khaat--she married a bloke a couple years ago who turned out to be a complete tosser. We didn't see it coming, but he turned out to be the biggest illegal potions dealer in England. The only decent thing its seems like he did was he gave her a gorgeous little girl. So, she's divorced from him now, and was well compensated for her pain with several millions in galleons, making her one of the richest women in wizarding England. And it made Kate and me grandparents, which, I have decided, is a completely wonderful thing. My granddaughter, by the way, is obviously not a werewolf, but, from almost her first breath, she showed us clearly she is a metamorph--inherited from her father. Shes just turned two, so she has absolutely no control of it, but she does make shifts from time to time. And, since then, Khaat has remarried. Remember that little lad she befriended and was her best friend while she was growing up? Well, that little lad has turned into quite an indispensable auror and fighter. His name is Brian Quinn, and he married her. He's got quite a bank account of his own and an enormous farm, and they both seem ridiculously happy. She keeps telling him they're going to have a dozen kids of their own, but I'm not sure he wants to change diapers for the next 14 years or so. Khaat owns a restaurant in London named Sparks, and she's now the director of St. Mungos. Got me working there as a healer and as the Deputy Minister. So much for my ideas about a quiet retirement. So what else is going on with you?"

[OOC - just realized I didn't switch accounts before posting /OOC]

"If you really want to get him, get that boggart to be me for a month" he said with a laugh. "Although that might be considered cruel and unusual punishment." he said, lighting a cigarette with a smile. If there was anything that would drive Michael crazy, it'd be a month of a boggart as Thaor in his house.

"Avocados, yes, that's what mum did. She thought it was relaxing. I thought I'd give it a go, turns out, I hate those little buggers. I was losing my mind out there all alone." he said, motioning to the bartender for a round of firewhiskey. "So I finally sold the place, and decided to come back to all the action and excitement of wizarding London, and it seems, I've missed a lot." he added.

"You know a 'quiet retirement' isn't an option for blokes like us. I'm glad to hear they gave my Deputy job to someone responsible, I suppose since the post isn't open I'll go back to the wand shop then." he said. While he did enjoy working at the ministry, nothing quite satisfied him like making a good, quality wand.

"Married twice, and you're grandpa Robert now huh? Boy, you are getting old." He said jokingly. Although Robert was only a few months older than Thaor, he loved reminding him of that fact.

"What has Jr been up to lately? I heard he had moved here, but not much else. You know I'm horrible at keeping in touch with anyone, except that nice delivery boy who brought my weekly supply of firewhiskey."

"Now that's a thought, but we could really gild the lily if we'd have the boggart include you in that wedding to Walburga as the love child he has with Walburga." He couldn't help laughing at the thought. "I'm not sure which would be more frightening. "Walburga or the idea of having to try to parent you." He listened to Thaor talk about the avocados being a thing his mother liked. That made sense to him, he supposed.

"Well, since I have my own farm, far be it for me to be critical of a man's choice of farm crop, but it always amazes me how much money muggle farmers make for growing all those little green balls of mush. Muggles seem to have a real fascination for avocados right now, something I don't quite understand. Far be it for me to diss anyone's food craving, and I have nothing against avocados. I just don't understand having them in bloody everything--like avocado coffee. Seriously, that sounds completely disgusting.

"I do miss my own farm, though. I don't have time for it like I used to, but I need the crops to pay for all the magical creatures Kate still likes. And my hippogryff isn't cheap to feed either. I met a squib family that desperately needed an income, and I desperately needed farm help, so I hired them.

"To make matters worse, Kate somehow ended up, of all things, with some rainbow colored pygmy puffs and she thinks they're adorable, so of course that means she thinks we should run amuck with them because she thinks they're going to sell like hotcakes. And if I weren't so principled about such things, I'd drop kick about a dozen of them and get rid of them. But of course I can't muster myself up to be deliberately cruel for no good reason, so I let her have them so long as they stay out of my way. But three fell out of the bathroom medicine chest this morning, so I don't know how successful she's going to be at corralling the little buggers." He laughed when Thaor teased him about getting old. He took a photo out of his suit coat pocket and passed it to him to show him a family photo of Khaat, Brian and Abbey.

"Can you believe that little sandy haired boy turned out to be such a determined young man? And as hard as it is to believe, that beautiful little blonde child is my granddaughter, Abbey. She metamorphs, for right now, into a Labrador puppy. That's her father's usual metamorph form, so I'm guessing there's some sort of genetic connection there somehow that makes Labradors a norm for her.

"You know, if you're looking for work temporarily, you could go see Paul Ackerman at Ollivanders. He's a good lad. He's got ridiculous wand crafting skills for such a young man. He apprenticed under Ollivander for some time when he was a student, as I understand, and he bought the place because of his fond memories of Garrick Ollivander. I'm sure he'd put you on there if you like. I just saw Paul this afternoon. Some dark magic bloke blew my wand in half in a duel, and completely obliterated the wand core. I won the match but i lost my wand. Paul gave me something to get by, but its not a good fit for a wand for me. It's not the best match. Paul thinks he can do better for me, and I hope he's right...."

All of a sudden he heard a horrendous noise, a memory from the deep recesses of his childhood mind. The sounds he had heard the night that Fenrir Greyback had attacked Remus when Remus had been so small. Before Robert had even given it thought, he'd sprang to his feet, drawn his wand, and leveled it in the direction of the box, causing Leaky patrons to all leap to one side or the other out of the way of Robert's potential wand fire. Robert stood, motionless for a moment, at the ready, until he realized it was that bloody boggart box again.

"Silencio!" Robert cast the silencing hex on the box, causing the box to fall completely silent. He took a deep breath, trying to regain himself. "My apologies," he said, looking at some of the rattled patrons. He looked at the bartender. "The next round is on me," he told him, deciding that buying a round for everyone was perhaps the way to ease the tension for frightening everyone. There was no way to be smooth after overreacting. He sat back down and looked at Thaor, hoping to quickly change the subject.

"So you've lost track with Junior? Me too. Well, maybe we'll run across him somehow now that you're back in town.