A Fall the old Headmaster Prevents

[Artemis Tuuri]

Artemis gripped a hold of the nearest tree branch as quick as a monkey and continued her trek up the back of the trunk. The old birch tree was simply enormous and seemed like a tower against the clear blue sky, but Art was not there for the scenery. She was simply climbing because she had to; in was in her nature to do so and there was nowhere else she could do it without sickening memories cracking her in the gut. How often had she climbed with Jareth, swam with Jareth, ate, talked, laughed ... ? Art's tiny hand slapped against the bark and it peeled away with the impact of the emotional force. Damn. After all this time, and she was still nearly undone by the thought of his face. She went to such dangerous lengths of forget about him, such as scaling absolutely mountainous trees to the top so as to have something more physical to think about than the ghost of a goblin boy in her mind. But it was more perilous at this height; even the weight of the tiny girl was becoming too much for the spindly branches. Almost with a premonition of danger, Art took a tighter hold of the spaying upwards branch, but it was too late. With a crack, it gave way, leaving her to fall and strike what seemed to be every single limb on the way down.

She hit something that she had expected to be ground yet was not, but it was still a bone-jarring thump to her back. Immediately her eyes crinkled up with tears and she began to sniff, squinting up at the face whose lap she had fallen on belonged to. It was a man on a park bench; Nicolas King, famous auror and former headmaster of Hogwarts. At the sight of his face, Art's eyes went wider with the effort of controlling her tears and she sucked her bottom lip in as they spilled down her cheeks. "Sorry, sir." mumbled Art, humiliated as her extremely frilly white knickers were flashing from beneath her cornflower blue dress. She scrubbed at her eyes but did not notice the beginnings of a trauma-induced nosebleed. "I dinnae see 'ye there. If 'a had I wouldda been sure tae land elsewhere." said Artemis, very coherently for a very miserable and banged up girl. Shakily she climbed off of his lap and slumped onto the seat beside him. "Ye orright? I've not bashed yer poor limbs about?".

 

[Nicolas King]

Nicolas sat in a park in Brightstone, pondering the last several months for him. Life had suddenly become a whirlwind of events when he'd just thought he'd be settling back in to Hogwarts once more. Within a single month Scott Anderson was murdered, Nicolas was made head of the Auror department, he was forced to end one relationship, he had been forced to kill a Death Eater and tear his soul once more, a potential relationship was interrupted by work, and in another completely unexpected twist to life: Nicolas had started what was looking to be a very promising relationship... with somebody he had once taught. It seemed apparent to him that he needed time to think, and what better place to do it than in the midst of nature on his day off. He was almost entirely unaware of the world around him as his mind shifted from one thing to the next, sorting his reactions to events and his hopes for future events as well as trying to decide what he should do, or expect to happen, in the month to come.

In the midst of the flurry of thoughts, Nicolas heard a branch crack and a cry resound from the tree above him. Nicolas looked up to see the form of a girl falling from the heights of the tree. He rose to his feet and positioned himself to catch her, which he managed, but her flailing prevented him from setting her down or keeping his own balance. Nicolas fell back on to the park bench, the girl falling in to his lap.

Looking down at the girl, Nicolas seemed to have some memory of her from his brief revisit to Hogwarts. Nicolas smiled at the girl as she spoke, her English being far from proper, and only imagining how fortunate she was to be in Hogwarts and not some Muggle grammar school where she would surely not enjoy her days. "I'm fine, I'm more concerned for you, however." Nicolas began, noting the beginnings of her nose bleed. Nicolas drew his wand, having fixed numerous nosebleeds for himself in quidditch games at school or about on Auror business, he was confident in his ability to do this one healing charm without a problem. "This should help you." He began, flicking his wand and muttering something under his breathe, the bleeding stopping immediately. He set his wand back in his pocket and looked to her again, "Are you alright? You should likely make your way to the Hospital Wing at the school, just to be sure."

 

[Artemis Tuuri]

Artemis' long ears were drooping at the tips, a sure sign of misery although her face was just one of frustration. Now that she thought about it, Professor ... no, Mr. King had probably just saved her life. Such a height should have seen her dead, and she was frailer than most with bones like a bird. Despite that, she had a hard head and would surely not have knocked that too hard if she was still back to sit up and speak. There was no way she was going to be some sort of damsel in distress; though that was what she was. On instinct she planted her hands on her hip and glared at Nicolas. "How d'ye know I go tae- . Oh." muttered Art by way of apology, having just accused her rescuer of who-knows-what. "Yep, well ... sorreh. I ... nevermind. I'm fine. Just got a bit 'o an ache in me tailbone." she said, looking up at the tall man sheepishly. "Fine luck, that was." There was a moment of silence where she gave Nicolas a good stare, wondering just exactly how the entire situation had occurred and what she was to do next. No doubt she'd get some sort of lecture about how dangerous climbing tall trees were, and then be sent home in disgrace or suchlike. Her enormous hazel eyes went slightly wider and she changed the subject swiftly and obviously.

"Didja hear about that kid 'oo popped his clogs at Hoggies some while back?" said Art, saying the first thing on her mind. Her ears visibly drooped lower. "Ah, er ... really bummed us kids out." Being generally extremely animated and wild, her calmness and melancholy was unnerving. Artemis was no actress, but her voice betrayed no closeness to the situation she mentioned. "I suppose there's been a lot of inquiries and paperwork at the ministry. Some say it was a werewolf, others say it was centaurs. No one really knows." Somehow her accent lessened as the volume of her voice did. She lifted her head and gave Nicolas a small smile. "You holding up alright in your job, aye?".

 

[Nicolas King]

Nicolas stared toward the girl, a quizzical look borne on his visage as she fumbled over herself, following one train of thought, then another, settling on one for a while, then diverging from it altogether. He was tempted to ask if she was certain she hadn't hit her head on something and needing medical attention, after all. As the girl quieted down a bit, settled on a question to let him answer, then remained silent, Nicolas smirked to himself, thinking the girl to be quite an interesting one and finding it unfortunate that he hadn't had the opportunity to teach her and be more well acquainted with her quirks. This situation would certainly be easier with somebody he taught and knew, at least.

"Yes, I heard about that. It was quite unfortunate." Nicolas began, his eyes piercing the girl beside him in search for what was behind all these questions. "My job is my job. I haven't died or gone mental yet, so things must be going well enough." Nicolas remarked, not knowing where to go. Obviously the girl wanted to talk, or wanted something.Otherwise she simply would have picked herself up, brushed herself off, and run away again. Right? "Is there something on your mind, then? About that?" Nicolas was referring to Jareth's death, "Or something else?"

 

[Artemis Tuuri]

Artemis blinked, then gave a wry grin at Nicolas' comment on his work. He was nice enough to catch her as she fell, which meant he was the sort of person whom she would mind very much if they died or went insane. If those were the dangers, then she would have much preferred that the old Headmaster had stayed at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, vocation was vocation and if he ended up bettering the world more productively through his work as an auror then she'd commend him. But his piercing stare had given her the willies; what sort of man had she come across and why had she not been intimidated? She really must have been jolted by that fall. It hit Art then that she was sitting and talking about the death of her fiance with a man who didn't even know he was talking about the death of her fiance while she was inwardly grieving about ... well, you get the idea. Her smiled faded as smiles usually did these days and she simply shrugged half-heartedly and looked away from Nicolas. "Nah, Mr. King. Nuffin'."

A poor lie, but one she deemed a necessary one. Now that her head was not spinning like birds around a cuckoo's nest, she realised how foolish she had been for practically blurting out what was troubling her like that. What sort of sensible girl started a conversation with an older man who was practically a stranger about some dead kid? Now her head drooped along with her ears. "Twas a centaur, anyway. All them childish folk at the school know nuthin' bout it. They didn't care, anyhows. 'Ee was just a kid with nothing against nobody cept this boy I accidentally kissed." Artemis sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes with her fist. "He asked me tae marry him. I said aye, I would. I watched him die, later." She took a moment to contain the anguish in her breathing in order to mention the last part of her speech. "So why aintcha lecturing me about doing stupid things like climbing too high to hold me own weight?" Art looked up at Nicolas finally, her eyes brimming. She wanted someone, anyone to tell her that she was going off the rails and to tell her to suck it up. Because she could not go on like this for much longer.

 

[Nicolas King]

Nicolas sat in silence after Artemis' initial denial that nothing was on her mind. Something obviously was, and he would leave her to think on it until she erupted and simply told him. She was plainly looking for somebody to speak with, and it seemed that she, with the help of the fates, had chosen Nicolas to be that person. How long it took her to open up didn't much matter to Nicolas, he had most of the day and thoughts of his own to mull through. He frowned as his eyes fell to Artemis at his side and her head drooped, her ears following form. She was an animated character and in moments of happiness it certainly seemed contagious, but unfortunately in her sadness things were equally so. Contagious.

Nicolas listened as, just as he suspected, Artemis seemed to burst out with everything that had been on her mind all at once. Her story was strange, Nicolas had heard of younger children getting 'engaged' for the sake of doing so - but Artemis seemed quite serious in what she was speaking of. She was far more emotionally attached to the boy than younger children were when they got 'engaged'. Or was she? He couldn't really know after all, all that he could ascertain was that the event had had a significant emotional toll on her, as even the death of a friend should have on any person, no matter how young.

With her enquiry as to why he wasn't lecturing her, Nicolas couldn't help but chuckle and think that he may have, if he'd have been given much of an opportunity at all to speak. "It isn't a lecture you need right now." Nicolas began, not knowing enough about anything at all to actually help the girl who had, quite literally, felt out of the sky and in to his lap. "Have you sought council from the nurses? I know they're quite eager to help students, even if it's not physical suffering that they aid." Nicolas paused at this, examining Artemis' expression a moment, "You mostly need to know that he isn't gone forever, that this world and the next are separated by a mere veil, and that life continues on. Even in the midst of a situation like this."

 

[Artemis Tuuri]

Artemis felt the tears creep out of her eyes. "Y'shoulda lectured me." Her face crumpled as she spoke, the picture of abject misery. "Cause 'ye being so nice, and that ... that ain't ...". She buried her face into her hands. A tiny little "Ow." sounded from beneath her fingers as she had squashed her button nose. After a moment of suppressed sobbing, Art lifted her head and sighed. "Yer right. I know yer right, but that's not why I'm still sad, y'know. 'Cause ... 'cause before Jareth, no one ever paid attention to me. Not in that way. When I looked at his face, it sort of all came together." Artemis tilted her head up at Nicolas and said frankly "Well your handsome, right. But I'm a goblin, and I was never pretty or very clever. He was my goblin boy, and now he's gone and I'll not find anyone who'll like me again." she told him. Art had no qualms about frankness, as long as it got her point across. She both scowled and sniffed in one breath, and then said loudly, "Lookit me! I'm a friggen pixie!", slumping back against the wooden bench seat.

In a moment of strange and startling coherence, she spoke in the brief silence. "Isn't that just part of grief? Realising ye're as alone as 'ye always were?". Artemis turned herself on the bench so that she was sitting cross-legged and facing Nicolas. "You lost anyone? I hadn't, before now. I'm in a family of seven. Half of 'em are in England and I don't get tae see 'em, so I guess I lost 'em, but 'ye know what I mean." Suddenly deciding that she'd spoken way too much, she stopped. That was Artemis. The mood changes were swift and unpredictable and every thought was plastered on her face and could visibly be seen changing and being re-thought.

 

[Nicolas King]

As tears formed in Artemis' eyes Nicolas withdrew from his pocket a fresh handkerchief and offered it to the small girl at his side. He listened to her, and then was forced to chuckle at her outburst. "You're the furthest thing from a pixie I've seen in my life. " Nicolas assured her lightheartedly, "You're part-goblin, but that means far less than you seem to make it mean. Somebody else will come about, they always do." Nicolas continued on in this pattern of assurance with a smile. It certainly seemed odd that this girl should be concerned about such things at her age. At her age he expected children to be running about without a care in the world, enjoying life for what it was, and looking for opportunities to exploit life to its fullest in every waking moment. This was not the tale that this girl seemed to tell, and it was slightly disheartening to know that she should have to think on such grave things as death.

"I don't think that's part of grief at all." Nicolas responded, having dealt with loss more than what most considered to be 'his fair share,' he felt a very different sort of feeling when he lost people. He never really acknowledged himself as ever having been alone, though at many times he'd wished he had been. It'd be easier that way, wouldn't it? To be entirely alone in the world, without the risk of loss of suffering of/for others. But something about the world always drew him back in to it, to make new connections, lose some old ones, cling to those he knew well enough to do so and to be thankful for everybody, even if they had long since passed away. "I suppose this is something you'll learn through. This loss, that is." Nicolas responded, having chosen not to reply to Artemis' question.

 

[Artemis Tuuri]

Art took the handkerchief gratefully and dabbed her eyes with it. It suddenly occurred to her that she could have worn it as a bandanna, it was so large compared to the ones she made for herself. The thought made her grumpy over her blood status all over again. True, she would have been a mixed blood even if didn't have goblin blood in her, but why did she have to be the throw back? Even her mother did not have ears as long or as pointed as she did. One day Artemis would learn to be proud of who she was, but it wasn't going to be today. Yet a small part of it came to her then and she smiled at Nicolas. "I guess ... I wouldnae have met Jareth if I'd not been a goblin. So there are things tae be thankful for." All of a sudden the world got a little bit brighter. Just as soon as the moment of despair had come, it passed and a cherubic look of hope gleamed on her cheeks. Yet again, Artemis had changed tact without a moment's hesitation.

That wasn't to say that she hadn't noticed Nicolas not answering her question. Art eyed him beadily for a moment before deigning not to comment with a very pointed look. If they were talking about death, it was probably best not to pry anyway. Yet she wondered exactly who he had lost to be able to contradict her theory; she had to admit, it had been a dismal thought born of despair. She did not yet believe that she'd find another person as beautiful and loving as Jareth, but belief would come in time. With quick fingers, she folded the handkerchief into a flower and handed it back to Nicolas gratefully. "Thank 'ye. Yer a sport for listening to my waffle. Probably not yer idea of fun, to catch a girl falling out of the air on a nice Sunday afternoon, is it?" she grinned, a dimple appearing on each cheek. Politely, she held out her doll-like hand to him. "I'm Artemis, sir. I know ye're Mr. King but I ain't never had the opportunity to talk tae 'ye before." Artemis looked at him and wondered for a moment before speaking. "Yer an auror, right? I guess talking tae a grieving person isnae so foreign to 'ye anymore." That might be true, and it was a sad thought.

 

[Nicolas King]

Nicolas smiled and thanked Artemis for his returned handkerchief in its new form. He cast a quick spell on it to dry it off then set it on the bench beside himself, not wanting to crush it in his pocket. "No, not fun, but certainly not any worse than what I had intended." Nicolas offered Artemis with a smile before taking her hand gently in his own. "Well, I'm glad to have been able to help you, Artemis." Nicolas offered with a wink, having remembered the girl's face but not for the life of him her name. "Yes, I"m an Auror." He confirmed for her with a smile, wondering what she'd thought he might be when he mentioned death and insanity being possibilities in his work at the Ministry. "And you're a Ravenclaw, are you?" Nicolas enquired, figuring it only polite to ask something about her in return for all her questions of him.

 

[Artemis Tuuri]

Despite herself, Artemis blushed Nicolas shook her hand. She didn't usually offer up handshakes since she felt like one good squeeze from the other person could take her hand off entirely, but Mr. King's hand was big and warm and reminded her of her father's. It wasn't a way of guessing age however, since her father was at least twenty years older than her previous Headmaster, but it had the same feel to it. This man worked hard but was not a laborer in a field or suchlike. Art was perceptive of those sorts of things. It took her a moment of studying his hand before she let it go and said "Aye, Ravenclaw," and smiled. Slowly her ears began to lift like a drooping daisy who had its first ray of sun for the day. It was almost a transformation; Artemis' hazel eyes seemed to go just that bit greener and her cheeks, only moments ago being pale and ruddy were now rosy with her usual suppressed energy. "I wonder, sir. Are 'ye a Dada? D'ye have bairns tucked away somewhere?" she asked Nicolas brightly. She didn't mean to ask so many questions, but despite her sudden explosion of emotion from before, she did not actually like to talk about herself.

Art swung her little legs on the bench and beamed at Nick, wondering what his family would look like. She could just imagine him having a lovely wife with a child on each hip, coming out to greet him every afternoon as he emerged from the fireplace and greeted them all with a kiss. During her musings, a sparrow deigned to make her hair its home since both people had been generally still for a time. It didn't seem like it, but she was perfectly aware of it nestling in her floppy curls. Birds seemed to like her. She liked them, too; except when they nibbled her ears.

 

[Nicolas King]

It appeared to Nicolas, that Artemis now simply wanted to talk. However, he hadn't come to the park that day to speak to somebody he barely knew, and while he felt poorly with regard to her situation and was glad that she wasn't too terribly hurt in her fall, he also didn't much feel like sharing his life story with a girl who was, in effect, a perfect stranger. "What's that?" Nicolas asked absent mindedly, his thoughts having been on where else he could retire to in order to return to his preponderances. "Right. Sorry. No, I'm not a father." Nicolas stated matter-of-factly. After a few more moments, Nicolas rose from his seat on the park bench and offered the girl his hand once more.

"It was a pleasure to help you today, Ms... Artemis." Nicolas smiled at this, not having caught the young lady's last name he was unable to offer her his usual cutesy of addressing most people by their last name and a title. "However, if you'll be well enough on your own, I have other business to attend to."