WF-L07

[Monty Pendleton]

Following Avie's death, Professor Pendleton's responsibilities had expanded to keeping an open eye out for students upset by the tragic news. Upon discovering one, he would offer them either a listening ear or directions to Daniel Clairoux's office, depending on the severity of the distress. But it was not only students hurt by Avie's departure; in fact, many of the staff were grieving just as thoroughly, and presently Monty's concern lay on Jonathon Phillips. He'd taught the Slytherin to read, so Monty had heard, and this was bound to have resulted in some affection on Jon's behalf. Heck, Monty had been fond of Avie, and he'd never taught him anything.

Having checked Jon's office, the professor's common room, and the great hall, Monty had all but given up on finding his young colleague, and returned to the task originally at hand: patrolling. He climbed to the second floor corridor to begin his rounds, confiscating a few stink pellets on the way by chance. As he passed the abandoned classroom, he deviated from his route to open the door and check inside. "Jon?" Monty said, laughing at the scene he beheld.

 

[Jon Phillips]

The stress of Avie's passing, and the announcement of a baby that was soon to be born in his family had put a heavy weight on Jonathon's shoulders that he wasn't sure he could handle. He was simultaneously responsible for the well-being of the students, making sure they were handling the tragedy and directing them to Daniel if they needed guidance as he was confused of how to deal with his own feelings of grief for the Slytherin boy who Jon remembered as always being full of life. And of course, Jon had to deal with the fact his mother was having a baby in her forties to her new husband, and more so he needed to come to terms with the realization he would have a half sister that was twenty-six years his junior on top of everything else. The worst part of it all, was the expectation to be strong and teach his classes as if nothing had happened, like he wasn't affected by any of the happenings in the castle and in his personal life since the semester began.

As bad as it was, Jon was relieved that he had found a distraction in the form of a muggle model aeroplane kit his mother gifted to him that christmas. It would help him in no way when he finished it, but alas it was a complicated plane to build, with nearly thirty pages of instructions and many tiny, fiddly and annoying pieces to fit together. Certainly not the kind of model he would finish in less than a few weeks. He was in the midst of laying out the instructions and putting the few beginning stages of the kit together when someone opened the door to the abandoned classroom. Jon looked up to find none other than Professor Monty Pendleton. One of his friends, and one of his confidants whether he chose to admit it or not. Pulling the small bottle of glue he was holding in his mouth out and putting it on the floor next to the two pieces of the plane he was holding, Jon said "What's up?" to the other man as if the sight of him being intertwined with a million pieces and a likewise amount of paper instructions wasn't hilarious to behold.
​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty continued to laugh, feeling sorry as he did so. Poor Jonathon was almost lost amongst the plane parts and paper sea strewn around him. "I was... looking for you, actually," Monty said, suddenly remembering his original intention in patrolling the castle that morning. He advanced into the room and pulled up a nearby chair, his age making a nuisance of getting down on the floor (or rather getting back up again). The pieces surrounding Jon were quite clearly that of an unassembled plane; Monty had constructed a few during his youth, including one entirely from scratch, when he'd needed a particularly complex task to take hiss mind away from his troubles. He'd often dreamt as a boy of building a real aeroplane, and the simple fact was he might well have done, had he owned the correct tools and parts. Alas, childhood had thwarted him once more. But this had not kept him from further studies into aviation; and whilst the information he'd gleaned from books and the Internet had long ago been buried beneath facts of Herbology and History, he could recall most as if he'd been thirteen only yesterday.

But it was complicated, and thus Monty was very impressed to see Jon preparing to built no less than the 1903 Wright Flyer all by himself. "Oh! I know what this is. The original aircraft is on display at the Smithsonian, isn't it? I didn't realise you were interested in planes," Momty said, smiling at his friend.

 

[Jon Phillips]

Jon frowned slightly as Monty admitted he was searching for him. He hoped the other professor was not due to deliver him yet another spread of bad news. Coping with something else going wrong and likewise responsibility to hold his head high and keep his shoulder's confidently squared was not something Jon knew he could handle. He was barely keeping himself together as it was. "Why were you looking for me?" He asked, albeit hesitantly. His unoccupied hands moved to the pieces of unassembled plane he was previously holding in an attempt to hide their shaking. The last thing he needed was someone to worry about him and note his vulnerability at losing a student he knew well and his family changing all too rapidly for him to be able to adjust. He was supposed to be strong after all, a model for the students and a shoulder to cry on for those who weren't handling Avie's death well and anything else going wrong after an already tragic series of events could easily have been the straw to break the camel's back.

Luckily for Jon, Monty soon changed the subject to the instructions and pieces of the model aeroplane scattered around him and all over the room. He nodded to Monty's question as the other man sat down, saying "It is the wright brother's plane. My mother gave me this model as a christmas gift and I figured now's as good a time as any to build it." as an answer to his question. "It's a new found interest." Jon said, moving the pieces in his hands to one side as he picked up the first page of instructions which was the same page he was having troubles with. Evidently the Muggle studies professor wasn't apt at following instructions. "I'm stuck on this part." He said, turning the page towards Monty and pointing to the words. He wasn't about to ask the other professor for help but he would have appreciated the company and comfort of his presence more than he was willing to admit.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty paused, constructing the most sensitive reply to Jon's inquiry. He didn't like to make the Muggle Studies professor think he appeared the sort who needed a friend during a turbulent time such as now; but then again, which man with any heart didn't? Even Monty could use the company. "I... imagine it hasn't been easy for you," he said carefully, kindly. "That isn't to suggest you've shown it; but you understand, oftentimes that's more troubling to me than if you had." He took the first instruction page from Jon, his eyes remaining fixed on his colleague. "I just hope you know you aren't alone."

Monty looked down at the instruction page and said immediately: "My goodness your mother has a wicked sense of humour." He laughed, turning over the sheet and then flipping it back. "Did you express a specific interest in the Wright itself, or is she holding some terrible grudge against you?" Giggling, Monty cast a gaze over the twenty-seven other sheets spread about the floor. She wouldn't have to buy him another Christmas present until he was thirty. "OK, let's see; 'Assemble the wing building jig as shown on figure one...' Well, you've done that." He read through the next section, to where it appeared Jon had got stuck. "Er... yes, I see what you mean. Would you, um, like me to see if I can help?"

 

[Jon Phillips]

Jon frowned at Monty's words, averting his gaze from the other man's features and to the stone floor while absent mindedly chewing the inside of his cheek. Monty was right; Avie's passing wasn't easy on him. It brought back memories of his own fathers passing and an extent of stress that was woven in with his responsibilities as a professor, meaning he couldn't show his grief nor could he find an outlet to distract himself from it without going far out of his way and comfort zone. He was glad for the model aeroplane kit strewn in front of him and the distraction it would be for the upcoming weeks but in order to build the model he had needed to leave the confines of his office for the abandoned classroom for the extra space it allowed. In the process of that he made himself vulnerable to intrusions. Although Monty was welcomed and a sight for his sore, exhausted eyes that in no way meant Jon could come to terms with his grief. He wanted to do that alone and instead felt forced to internalize it in that moment to save himself the humiliation and namely to save Monty from growing bored or worse, annoyed by Jon sharing his feelings.

So instead Jon simply said "Your concern tells me I'm not alone. Thank you." before allowing the subject to change completely to the assembled wright brothers place he was having problems with. He shook his head as Monty joked about his mothers sense of humor and then felt his shoulders lighten as Monty began talking about the instructions and the nitty gritty of putting the model together. "This is the building jig, then?" He asked, moving one of the pieces he actually managed to assemble closer to Monty. "I would love it if you could help me." Jon then said, more comfortable to admit needing help with something practical and creative rather than with his emotions over the recent changes in his life and around the school. It was much easier to admit such a thing and being distracted by it in addition to Monty's presence would be one of the many things Jon needed in such an otherwise confusing and terrifying time in his life.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Observing that he had made Jonathon uncomfortable, Monty blushed reproachfully and did not pursue it. Still, at least the offer had now been made; Jon knew that he could seek the Potions Professor out should he ever need moral or emotional support. Monty only hoped the younger man was not so timid as himself when it came to sharing grief. Even now that he had friends like Arvo and Ava and Wren, he still struggled to tell anybody when the weight of his burdens grew too much for fear that he would pass it on, or, worse still, his friends would think him weak or cowardly for being unable to cope. Naturally, Monty would have thought neither of these things of Jonathon if he decided to share, but it seemed futile to add this now.

Monty nodded at the wing jig moving towards him. "Yes, that's it," he said, with a smile. "OK; those pieces to the left of your hand - yes - those are your wing ribs, so let's put them aside." Monty knew he wouldn't be able to help from where he sat, so he lowered himself from the chair to the floor and found a comfortable way to sit. He had no idea how Jon did it. "The main spar - do you know where that is? - comes in three pieces that need to be joined." He turned the instructions toward Jon and pointed out the join. As the correct parts and materials were gathered, Monty asked curiously, "Did you attend this school, or another?"

 

[Jon Phillips]

Jon turned his gaze towards his left hand as Monty spoke, moving the apparent 'wing ribs' aside as instructed and wondered if there were any more strewn about the room. When Monty moved from the chair he was sitting Jon nearly stood up to save the older man the trouble but he was too late to act when Monty ended up comfortably on the floor. Jon continued to follow Monty's directions as they sat across from each other, feeling entirely distracted by the task at hand and suddenly more relaxed and carefree as he focused on something that weren't the problems looming over his head. The pieces of the main spar on the diagram looked confusing like many of the other pieces though distinct enough for Jon to be able to find them in the sea of other unnassembled parts littering the floor.

When all the appropriate pieces had been collected, Jon looked to Monty as if to ask what he should do next. The older professor was clearly more capable of following written instructions and comfortable enough to join him in assembling the model plane. If they continued with such productivity, Jon could see no reason for them not to finish a hefty chunk of the model that day, if not more in the days or weeks following. Though as he waited for further direction Jon was instead asked about his schooling. A polite, normal question that could come up in everyday conversation so it didn't phase Jon as much as it should have as he answered it with a sense of honesty that may have been too honest. Though Jon had gathered throughout the years that being too honest in the beginning stopped further questions popping up, and it was those questions he didn't want to answer despite trusting Monty completely and recognizing many of his own traits in the older man. "I was home schooled at first, then I attended Beauxbatons after my dad died because my mum is muggle so she couldn't teach me at home." As he spoke his eyes darted to the pieces they'd be collecting. Picking up the small bottle of glue, Jon attempted to put the appropriate parts together, hoping that he wasn't messing the model up before they'd even begun to properly build it. "What about you? What school did you go to?" Jon asked in return as it would have been a lie for him to say he wasn't curious about Monty's past and the reason such an interesting, intelligent man found themselves teaching potions at Hogwarts New Zealand of all places.
​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty's heart braced under the weight of Jon's reply. Trouble, it seemed, had a habit of finding the best people. Only years of experience and study reminded the elder professor that trouble did not find the best people: it made them. Still, it seemed unfair as ever that Jon should have suffered at such a tender age. Monty had yet to experience the death of a close relative, which he owed partly to his estrangement from his family, and partly because said relatives were still in good health. Had Jon's father died by illness or an accident? Did it make a difference? Whether the news had arrived a shock or not, Jon would have been distraught either way.

The instructions specifically stated not to glue the plane parts together yet, but Monty had momentarily lost the heart to say so. He doubted Jon would appreciate excessive sympathy, so as he located another spar piece and handed it over, he said calmly, "I'm very sorry to hear that." Any further condolences would surely only have made the man uncomfortable. When the topic changed to Monty's own schooling, he hesitated, as if he hadn't been anticipating having to answer the question himself. There was nothing discernibly unusual or wrong about his life story, but that was leaving out great portions of information that he would never disclose. He only needed think of his adolescent years for a knot to form in his stomach. He had always been studious, yes, but there were plenty of reasons he had never made prefect, despite his outstanding grades. "I attended Hogwarts Scotland," he explained eventually, suddenly overcome with the desire to leave. "Uh - I'm not sure we're meant to glue that just yet. It ought to hold by itself. Sorry, I explained poorly..." He trailed off, his eyes resting on the sheet he held.

 

[Jon Phillips]

Jon's attention remained focused on the plane pieces in front of him and not Monty's words. Although they were polite and he was sure the man meant well, it was something Jon had heard time and time again; a broken record of 'i'm sorry' that never accomplished anything. He never understood the relevance of apologizing upon hearing about someone's death and especially in the case of Jon and his father as it occurred so many years ago and he was sure Monty hadn't known him. The death had a huge impact on Jon's life and it had never been the same since but the fact that it was in the past, beyond changing, remained the same.

Jon almost sighed with relief when the subject turned to Monty and the man answered his question though he was disappointed to not hear more about his school experience. Hogwarts Scotland must have been much more interesting than Beauxbatons if the environment of Hogwarts New Zealand was comparable. "Oh cool, what house were you in?" He asked, looking up from the pieces he was gluing together. As Monty said he wasn't supposed to glue the pieces together, Jon put the pieces and the bottle of glue down on the floor, exhaling as he brought his hands across his eyes to rub at them frustratedly. "I'm so bad at this." He said, pausing momentarily then moving his hands away to look back towards Monty. "What are we supposed to to next, then?" He asked, hoping he hadn't ruined the model and what mistakes he had made in his gluing process could be rectified. It wasn't a model for beginners but regardless of that fact, Jon was determined to finish it and have the plane sitting proudly somewhere in his office.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Another question Monty didn't want to answer. Not because being a Ravenclaw alumni in itself implied anything, but because vouchsafing the information would invite further curiosity, and to pique Jon's interest of his school life was a frightening notion. "Ravenclaw," he said simply, uncomfortably, without meeting his colleague's gaze. It didn't even feel appropriate to steer the conversation back towards Jon, since Monty had observed in the younger man a similar reluctance to divulge any personal information, no matter how seemingly irrelevant. That was OK. The Potions Professor concluded his thoughts on the matter and would thenceforth endeavour to avoid regarding them.

Sensing he had achieved precisely what he had hoped not to do, which was make Jon feel incompetent, he shook his head, stricken. "No, no! Not at all. If I hadn't built similar models before, I wouldn't have had a clue where to begin," he said, and then, reproached for what could have been perceived as bragging, immediately followed his remark up with a self-effacing comment. "My first resembled more accurately a chair than it did an aeroplane." He gave Jon a reassuring smile, and then picked up the spar to examine it. The glue hadn't dried yet, so he could quite easily have disassembled the parts and guaranteed no unexpected difficulties later on in the building process, but the risk posed didn't seem great enough to justify taking apart Jon's work. "I'm sure there's no harm done. Here." He read out the next instruction and then showed Jon how to taper the leading edge spar, giving him the opportunity to try it himself, if he fancied. Then they drilled two holes in the main spar and braced the joints with hinge plates, which was easier said than done, but with two sets of hands they fairly managed. After a while, Monty checked his watch, and suddenly looked remorseful. "Oh, Jon, I'm really sorry, but I'll need to get back to my patrol in a moment. Would you mind? Perhaps we could find some time to work on this again tomorrow - not that you'll require me now. But... I could use the company." The elder man scarcely set himself up for rejection, so he hoped that Jon would accept. "Unless I'm imposing, of course."