2001-04-15:Workshop Surprise


adelard1.jpg phillipef1.jpg esther1.jpg

Scene Title Workshop Surprise
Synopsis Esther is minding her own business building a bed and is interrupted by the British Government and his pregnant husband. Yeah, read that through twice.
Location Empty Classroom
Date April 15, 2001
Watch For Iamsobadatthisfielddon'taskme.
Logger Adelard

For most sixteen-year-olds found with massive lengths of wood in an upstairs classroom, it would be obvious that transfiguration had been used - Or at least some form of magic. Who the hell would bring /wood/ all the way from the meadow to an empty classroom on the fourth floor. Much less the lengths that Esther is working with, each hewn log is nearly ten feet long, and she started with three up here. Desks that no longer have students have become saw horses and storage racks and somewhat crude woodworking tools are laying around in different places - As well as a decent scattering of sawdust. There are no markings though. It's not the Giant way, to /measure/ and /cute/ and /measure/ and /cut/. Look. See what needs doing, cutting, shaping, tailing… And do it.
Currently, only one 'raw' log rests against the far wall, supported by four desks. One has been divided neatly into four long beams, planed until smooth with the end dovetailed and notched, laid out like the frame of a bed across more desks, and Esther is considering them with her keen eye for crafting. A Giantess, after all, needs to know how to make things work. The *crack* is audible when she slides one corner together and smacks it with the palm of her hand to have the fixture-less joint settle in place.

You know, sometimes you need to get away from your office. And the other offices. And the questions. And being the British Government. In the Ministry, he could have locked his door and told his assistant he wasn't taking meetings. Here? Well, the door has a lock, but the castle sometimes decides he needs a better work ethic, or something, because it doesn't always stay locked. Thus, he's on the hunt for a little peace and quiet. Spare classrooms are good for that, right? Right. Which is how the sole surviving member of the Wizengamot opens the door to this spare classroom just in time for the loud crack of the corner of Esther's project. He cringes at the noise, though in the faintest way, a small frown, a visible throb at his temple, a furrow drawing a line between his brows. It stops him in the doorway, and it takes him a moment of blinking before he pieces together what in the world is going on here.
"I suppose the school doesn't exactly keep workshops…" He says, quiet but very much still audible, as though he's talking to himself. Or maybe that's just how greetings work in his world. Doesn't turn to leave, either. Weird guy, Adelard is.

There's only so much time one can sit still when this full of Small PersonTM. So Phillipe has taken to wandering, himself - slow and careful strides allowing for a swing of hips that eases some of the ache in his lower back and upper thighs. Spying Adelard on a prowl of his own isn't necessarily unreasonable, but when the open door makes the 'crack' audible in the hall and then Adelard sticks his snoot into it that… well, the protective lion is protective.

Which is how there is a much shorter figure standing in the doorway just behind Adelard's shoulder - a terribly feminine looking one, especially considering that 'about to pop' might be a generous assessment of pregnancy stage here. The delicate facial features, inhuman violet eyes, and the hands-on-hips posture that is universal to mothers definitely nudge the assumption in that direction, at least.

Esther draws on her lower lip when someone walks in, in time to see her project. The tall girl draws up to her impressive height, revealing that she's at least had the wisdom to put an apron over her school uniform, and looks across at the new entrant… And the man who enters just a moment later. "I, uh…" She stumbles a little bit with her words, and even as she draws her limbs in a little in embarrassment she admits. "I found a few, but… I'd never seen 'em before so I came up here instead."
The Castle, of course, tried to convince her to use a workshop instead. It gave her multiple choices on her way up here, but she knew this room was /empty/ and shouldn't have been /disturbed/. Phillipe receives the longest look though - Since he's not old, and he's strangely… Attractive, and weirdly pregnant. Confusion flickers across her features and it takes a long time to clear out. "Sorry, Sirs-" Sirs? It's unfortunate that she doesn't have a little more knowledge of the magical world. Despite an impressive size and physique, Esther just seems a little bit pink and bewildered.

"Oh Merlin, are there workshops now?" Adelard asks, blinking, before looking over and patting the doorframe, "You're in a mood, aren't ya, old girl?" So Scottish. Notably, doesn't seem to blink at Esther's height. At all. What does give him pause is when she says 'sirs.' Brow furrowing again, he looks over his other shoulder and then laughs just a little. The next moment he's putting his arm around Phillipe and kissing the top of his head.
"Hello, love." Adelard says softly, "Had I known you were also on walkabout, I might have saved myself the trouble." But then he's gone and been rude, after interrupting Esther and everything. Turning his attention back to the young woman, he offers her a small smile.
"You've no need to apologize, lass. The empty classrooms are around for a reason. What sort of project are you working on?" So much for his quiet, he supposes. Then again, can he really complain about being curious?

Phillipe has a much better grasp on her stumbling than Adelard seems to. After all, this is normal for Adelard. Phillipe is the one who's had to live the experience of people being constantly confused. "Either is fine. I'm impressed that you managed to pick up masculinity at all. Most people take one look at my delicate hourglass figure and don't think about it too hard." The light sarcasm on 'delicate hourglass figure' is highlighted by a gesture toward his stomach, which is neither delicate nor hourglass-like in the least. He doesn't fight the arm around his shoulders and leans into Adelard's side with a soft, besotted smile. "This child of ours is not very good at letting me sit still - which makes all of the healers terribly cross, especially Valentin." He glances around the room, then, and finally toward Esther, who's got a good two and a half feet on him like this. "What are you working on?"

"There's not 'supposed' to be… But there were some, where there shouldn't be." Esther doesn't seem to understand at least immediately, having been told about the Rooms of Requirement but not really thinking they're 'right.' It seems she's going to spend a lot of this encounter looking bewildered, at least mildly. "The headmistress has given me a private dorm, but… The bed is still a little small." For many students, the beds at Hogwarts are /lush/, /massive/. For Esther? Her knees stick out the bottom. And it seems that rather than disturb the elves, the Hufflepuff is making her own bed instead. "Ma taught me wood when I was little, and I can make it, so I should. Not fair to put your work on others… So I'm makin' a bed."
There are other problems to consider. For example, mattresses, but… She'll cross that when she gets to it. "

"Is she still giving you a hard time?" Adelard asks Phillipe, though the raw fondness in his tone says he couldn't begin to be cross with this child if his life depended on it. He stays there in the doorway, glancing at the wood as Esther explains her project. "You know, there are spells that will just make your bed bigger." He says, looking to Esther then, "That would likely be significantly easier than building a bed." There is a small shrug of one shoulder, though. "Some people do like having a project though, so if that's more the issue, carry on. But you don't have to sleep in a too-small bed until this is done." A project like this could take months, after all.

There's definitely an odd look shot between the wood and the student when she mentions her bed being too small, but even as Phillipe has opened his mouth to say something, Adelard beats him to it. There's a small nuzzle into the British Government's shoulder (because he can, and smothering affection at this stage of his life seems like a pointless waste of energy) and he leans a little more of his weight on his (currently) taller husband. "If you've not learned the spell, yet, it might be good practice for one of your older Housemates." The badger on the school uniform is noted and Phillipe's smile becomes a grin. "Or a professor, I'm sure. Worst case scenario, I know Tonks has been prowling about looking for something to do. Helping to nest baby badgers sounds like it might be just the thing."

There's something sweet about seeing /love/ in the world still. Something confusing, but sweet. "Would be, but… Wasteful." She agrees. Somehow finding more 'worth' in producing something by hand, or at least /herself/, than troubling something else to fix her problems for her. "I just don't wanna be more of a bother." The half-giant finally confesses, running her hand along the planed wood affectionately. Being the largest student in Hogwarts at this point has some drawbacks, after all. Not to mention being significantly older than most of her peers - And the giant bird of hers that terrorizes the owlery.

The concept of magic being wasteful seems to entirely and legitimately confuse Adelard for a solid twelve seconds. He just sort of… Blinks. "I promise you, giving Tonks something productive to do with a few minutes of her time would certainly not be a waste." He says, sounding like he would give just about anything to not hear her down the hall from his office for just five minutes. Just five. She's a very… Loud… Person. He's content to take more of Phillipe's weight, long ago having resigned himself to the fact that this is his duty at such times.

Phillipe lifts one hand to pat very gently at Adelard's chest in a 'there, there' type of gesture. "Love of mine?" he begins, in a tone so sweet that Adelard will probably know it means Trouble Ahead. "You're being a Pureblood. Please consider your place of privilege before you get yourself punched in the nose." This, accompanied by a Very Delicate Sniff. "If not for your own sake, then for mine." He keeps saying murder isn't good for the baby, after all. "Even with my husband's propensity for opening his mouth in time to have the worst possible option come tumbling out… he does have a point. Giving Tonks something productive to do might well earn someone an Order of Merlin at this point." Second Class, but still.

The response to Adelard's confusion is one arched eyebrow that doesn't fall until he finishes talking, but Esther seems a little more receptive to Phillipe. Purebloodism is something that she's very familiar with, as a member of a house that gives precisely not a damn about it. "I'd never punch someone what didn't deserve it," Esther tries to reassure, fumbling a little bit for words. And from how strong she looks, a /punch/ would quite likely knock even an experienced wizard. So.. Duelling class is out then. "Even then I wouldn't." Want to. "I… I might see if she can help then, if it might, uh, help her?" She doesn't quite get how that works but it seems kind of like it might.

"Ah." Adelard stops himself as Phillipe points out his foolishness, "Sorry." Look, at least he can usually pull his foot out of his own mouth. Usually. "It would, though. She's feeling a bit cooped up, I think. Used to being out on wild Auror-type adventures." A beat, "And being harangued by Moody." Which comes with the slightest, and perhaps a surprising, touch of sadness to his tone.

It's at moments like this where the fact that Phillipe is Adelard's Designated Hufflepuff is far more obvious than he realizes. The sadness in his love's voice prompts a turn into his side and gentle nosing up along the line of his jaw - soft affection to ground and comfort and reassure. That it also comes with one hand gently kneading at Adelard's forearm seems to be something of a reflexive action, for Phillipe is not aware that he's doing it. "Especially with her partner roped back into teaching classes, I imagine she's about to start climbing the walls." Yep, fun fact about your DADA professor, Esther. Definitely got yoinked from Auror-type duty. "Puffs do take care of our own. I'm sure she'd be glad to help-and-be-helped."

And it might even be a good opportunity to get help making a cage for Boulder, but… That's a job for another day. At least serving as a distraction for someone else seems less burdensome than being the girl who always needs /something/. "I… I guess that's a a fair point. It must be dull to be stuck at Hogwarts all the time." Since that's precisely how Esther feels, as a ward of the state.

The sadness seems to disappate as quickly as it arrived, though Adelard does not try to move away from any of these affections. In fact, they are answered in kind with another small kiss to the top of Phillipe's head. "I think, sadly," He says then, "We're all going to have to get rather used to being stuck in Hogwarts all of the time. At least for the foreseeable future." Not that the nine months they've all been stuck here isn't a dead giveaway or anything. "I should probably get back to my office. They might send out a search party at this point." Not that he sounds like he wants to.

Phillipe pulls a face when Adelard makes that pronouncement, but he doesn't argue. There's no argument to be made, really. This is their life, now. Or something like it. "I can't stand it about half the time, but I'd rather be here and miserable than out beyond the wards at this point." Pregnant witches make for easy targets and he doesn't want any of that heat thankyouverymuch. "I'll walk you back, if you'd like?" he offers softly. "I think I want a nap." Why that means going to Adelard's office, however… "Good luck with your project," he says by way of farewell to the younger Puff. "Keep an eye out for pink hair and I'm sure you'll find Tonks in no time." She gets a small, warm (though tired) smile, but Phillipe was not kidding about that nap.

"A'course, Sir." Esther finally seems to relax a little bit. "I've been here for a while now. It's not all bad." It's just all weird. Not making her own food. Roofs. Sleeping near other people in small rooms. Magic. She reaches into her pouch, and pulls a relatively simple rubber mallet from within it easily enough. As if she was just /carrying/ one around this whole time. "I'll try to keep the noise down. Unless… You want the distraction? Either way, um… Thank you?" Gesturing to the far end of the bedframe. After all… Maybe having something for others to do isn't that much of a burden.
They're all 'trapped' her together, right?

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