alone, I fight these animals || OPEN

Prudentia wasn’t alone for long. A man ran over to her spot and cursed. She immediately noticed that he smelled quite rancid. It didn’t take long for her to put two-and-two together and although she was irritated that her lunch break was quite thoroughly ruined the man clearly seemed as if whatever he had done wasn’t intentional. She looked at him curiously as he looked familiar. Pru shook his hand and kept a thought to herself that she’d have to go wash her hands. At his touch she suddenly remembered exactly who she was quite vividly. She had a vision about him not long ago, one that was so strong that it was considered a prophecy. Pru hadn’t even realized it happened until it was over and someone had told her. His name was written down in the Hall of Prophecies. She hated when this happened. She always liked to see the people in her visions as anonymous people who she’d never know or acknowledge as real, living human beings. “Yes, yes, of course, I’m Prudentia Ollivander,” she left it at her name even though the pass that she carried around her neck clearly stated that she was an Unspeakable. She didn’t usually introduce herself around the building and she never told strangers what she did for a living outside of work, so it wasn’t natural for herself to give her job title. “You can call me Pru. I must read your articles all the time; I’m an avid Daily Prophet reader. If I were to tell you the truth, though, I don’t usually read the author’s names.” She laughed in an apologetic way. It was funny how much more easy-going she was when she wasn’t in the company of her family members, or perhaps it was because she was socially deprived. “If I’m going to be completely honest, the only name I can remember is Raven Monroe. Horrible, horrible things she writes – but would I be a bad person if I were to admit that I love the articles?” she grinned mischievously as if she were a teenager instead of a middle-aged woman.

Pru glanced at a nearby clock and realized that her lunch break wasn’t technically over just because the cafeteria got smoked out. She placed her container of leftovers into her bag before she turned back to the young man. “What do you usually write about? Perhaps if you tell me I’ll recognize your name a little easier. Although I have to admit, your name is rather unusual. Maybe that smoke has made me a little woozy.” She was trying her best not to admit that she knew exactly what he wrote or the fact that he was usually covered in tattoos. It wasn’t that she knew everything about him, on the contrary, she knew very little. It was just her vision hadn’t been of him white-skinned and without flaw and the only reason she had recognized him was because of his name. There was no way that there was another Tiernach Raghnall running around whom looked suspiciously like him but tattoo-free. Even twins didn’t have the same name. Well, usually anyway. “What are you doing in the Ministry? There can’t be much interesting to write about here.” At least in her opinion, anyway. She believed that her Department was the most interesting by far, but they were called Unspeakables for a reason and they never, ever gave interviews or allowed articles to be written about them. The last one who did such a thing mysteriously ended up vanishing.

Pru vaguely watched people bravely enter the stinking cafeteria in order to try to figure out what was going on. “They probably think it was a real bomb or something,” she mused quietly as her blue eyes didn’t leave the people entering as the smoked cleared out slowly causing not only the cafeteria to smell but the corridors that they were currently in. “Look, I still have some food to eat and I’m assuming you won’t have any interviews until after lunch because Merlin knows people won’t give interviews during unpaid time, so if you wanted to come to my office and avoid the masses for a little bit…” Ugh. She was definitely socially deprived if she was inviting someone she didn’t even know to have lunch with her in her office. “Besides, your stench might give away the culprit.”

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tag: @mannequin

“Must be quite old. I suppose perhaps I’m used to more modern names.” Pru chuckled. “What am I talking about? Look at my name… not exactly modern, either. Then again, I’m not very modern,” she joked in reference to her age. Such a young man didn’t suit such an old-fashioned name. Weren’t all the children in this day in age named Simon or George or Adam? Perhaps an old-fashioned name wasn’t a bad idea; at least his parents hadn’t given into a fad. “At least curious names are memorable. If I were trying to get into journalism, I’d rather have a unique name that employers would remember instead of something generic like John Smith. There’s probably a dozen John Smiths submitting.” She knew how competitive journalism could be – everyone did. Any good jobs always had stiff competition. Most Ministry jobs did, too, and that’s where there were internships and the like in order to weed out the weak. She wished that Unspeakables had interns, but it wasn’t like they could advertise their Department or show everyone what was inside just for them to lose their job. Being an Unspeakable, in a way, was a lifelong career. Even after you quit you had to keep up the secrecy. Besides, being sworn to secrecy paid quite well so there were scarcely ever openings for new people.

Pru smiled at the recognition. Many people (probably including her children) would no doubt get tired of being recognized for a famous relative, but Pru took pride in her husband and her surname. “The very one,” she replied happily, practically glowing. “Yes, he’s my husband. Don’t worry, I get mistaken for his daughter all the time,” she added, as if that was what Tier was implying. Pru always tried to distance herself from her husband’s age. Although he looked young for his age, he still couldn’t pass for anything less than an elderly man. “He’s technically old enough to be my father! There’s a twenty year age gap,” she freely admitted. She didn’t want this handsome young man to think that she was extremely old. She felt like the moment people could guess her true age that it would be the death of her.

She grinned. “I can’t imagine how you’re having creative differences considering you’re the only journalist I’ve seen around here in … forever,” she said. Well, the only one that she had noticed considering she essentially worked in the dungeons all by herself. She didn’t want him to feel poorly about himself, though. He was destined for great things whether he knew it or not and she supposed this was just a down curve in his life. Pru laughed lightly at his comments about Raven. “She certainly is beautiful. If anyone is going to have the right to tear others down it should be her. The last thing I’d want is an unattractive gossip columnist, because really, who would she be to talk?” Pru was being a little petty, but it made her feel young and girlish so she didn’t mind. “The worst are those anonymous ones. At least Monroe has the courage to be open about who she is.” Pru waved a dismissive hand and looked around as if someone would hear what he said, but no one was paying the least bit of attention. “Me? There’s honestly nothing interesting about me.” She tried to sound as sincere as possible. If a woman like Monroe ever got the scoop about what her husband did on his free time… well, Pru would become a social pariah. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to show her face again. Not only would she be married to someone unfaithful, she willingly stayed with someone unfaithful.

“I think I have something in my office,” she stated. She led Tier to an elevator and headed to the floor with her office on it. It wasn’t on the same floor as the Department of Mysteries, but rather the floor above. She led him through cubicles and gradually to her own office. She unlocked it with a wave of her wand. Just like everywhere else in the Ministry there was a false view in her window. Today it showed a bright day with hardly a cloud in the sky. She indicated for him to sit and she began to rummage through her desk. She came away with what looked like a green bar of soap and tossed it to him. “I believe it’s called the Perfect Soap. Leaves no odour than the smell of the soap and gets rid of any dirt or marks. It definitely has its uses.”

She sat at her desk and took her fruit back out and began to eat it slowly. She realized that she didn’t even feel hungry anymore so she resolved to just drink her vegetable smoothie. It didn’t taste the best, but it got her the proper amount of nutrients she needed so she always just sucked it up. “Who were you looking for in particular? Or just anyone?”

“So a family name, then,” Pru replied. She always thought passing along names other than surnames was a little odd. She couldn’t imagine her husband and son both having the same names, or sharing one with her daughter – not that there were a lot of women who passed down their names anyway. When was the last time she heard of a woman who was ‘the second’ or ‘the fifth’? It was such an egotistical male thing to do. “I’ve heard a lot of Muggleborns changing their names so that they’re not associated with their Muggle families,” she added unnecessarily as if having a Muggle family was somehow bad, but she didn’t catch herself. “Walburga… yes, we in the wizarding world really like to inflict damage on our children before we even get to know them. Look at my name for heaven’s sake! Perhaps I shouldn’t be so hard on yours. I think I did alright with my own children – Linden and Annabel.” Pru’s eyes glassed over at the mention of her children. She remembered how much she loved those names and how pretty she thought the name ‘Annabel’ was. It was a little less traditional, but the names of her children were still unique. “You don’t know my son, do you? He works in the Ministry as well. Linden Ollivander.” Like Tier would have forgotten so quickly her last name. “He’s still new around here so I’m not sure how much of a name he’s made for himself, so to speak. It’s strange that he’s old enough now to work in the same building I’ve been working at for years and years. You think that we’d run into each other now and then but I can’t remember the last time I did…” a tear escaped her and she wiped it away. Pru hadn’t been aware that her eyes had been watering. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep her emotions at bay. Now that she was reaching middle age, she felt herself be a lot more emotional than she used to. There also seemed something so comfortable about Tier that she didn’t seem frightened to open up to him a little – or maybe it was just because he had a pretty face.

She grinned at Tier. “Trust me, honey, twenty years isn’t a big age gap when you get to my age.” She knew that he was probably referring to when she was younger. She could see that he seemed a little uncomfortable but it just made her want to laugh. He was still a child, a baby even – afraid of commitment, of unconditionally letting someone else in. Allowing someone to hurt you but trusting that they won’t. Maybe she had been a little naïve on that last point. “You younger generations… I understand where your hesitance comes from. You all grew up with parents married young and then their relationships fell apart. I don’t suppose arranged marriages are quite as common anymore – then again, as a Muggleborn I doubt you’d be betrothed. It’s a very old and Pureblood tradition. It’s created some amazing marriages but ruined more.” She shook her head and tried not to commit on how she felt about them. “So what is it for you, if you don’t mind me asking? Broken family? Waiting for the woman you want to become available? Haven’t found a woman you want?” she eyed him for a second. “Or perhaps man you want. I’m still new to this whole homosexual lifestyle thing going around.” Pru managed to catch herself that time. She put a hand to her chest and added, “Not that I’m against it, I’m just not used to it being so… open. You know?” she hoped that she hadn’t seemed insensitive or rude about it. She honestly couldn’t care less what people were into. It wasn’t her business … even if she did find it scandalous sometimes. She sighed at the mention of her husband. “Yes, he is quite brilliant. It’s hard not to be attracted to someone with that much knowledge in their head.” Naturally she left out the part where she had known him since she was an infant and that he had been a family friend – a friend of her parents, in fact. Many younger people seemed to look down upon such information. Pru didn’t understand it – it wasn’t like she had been promised to him since she was born. It just ended up happening.

Pru didn’t quite grasp what he was saying before she turned just in time to hear him stripping off his clothes. She had the temptation to take a peek but resisted. It had been a while since she had seen a naked man, especially a young one. In fact, she had never seen a young naked man. By the time she had married Garrick he was already past being considered young. She suddenly felt like something had been deprived of her. She realized that she would never be a young woman with a young man. She, too, was much past being considered young. She wondered vaguely if it was something that she missed out on. She bit her lip. She hated the hormones that came with middle age. It made everything seem like a big deal, even just having a half-naked man behind her. Pru gradually smelled the air getting fresher once again which came as a much needed relief for her nose.

Pru turned back around to a much better smelling young man. She returned the soap (now significantly smaller) back to the drawer. “Hm, I hadn’t considered that last part. Answer that, too.” She was too nosey for her own good. “Department Heads are dreadfully boring. They’re just going to spin everything into the most convincing and best light so that you won’t be aware that everything they do is for their own benefit,” she somewhat ranted. She raised a joking eyebrow to him. “My, that’s awfully personal. Without even dinner first, what kind of woman do you think I am?” she wanted to know who the dungbomb was for, but it was hardly worth her job. “I’m afraid that a little prank isn’t worth what would happen to me if I told you anything about my work. It’s unfortunate, really.” She bit her lip. “I don’t see why government can’t be more transparent with society. They say it’s for their own good and the like, but doesn’t everyone say things like that about their own beliefs? Hiding things in plain sight just makes people more suspicious than they need to be – sort of like you,” she teased. More than anything she wished that she could tell Tier what she did in her day. She suspected a question like this might arise and she wanted to tell him everything. It was all very interesting even if her own job would probably interest a few. She knew why the Hall of Prophecies was a secret. Everyone wanted to know their future – she wanted to tell people that they really didn’t. It wasn’t a secret that she was a Seer, but it wasn’t just her own prophecies that she came across and had to record down there. Pru knew way more than she could ever have hoped and in a way that weighed her down. She knew something personal about almost everyone she met and the worst part was that she had to act like she didn’t, even if she knew that they were going to die the very next day.

Pru admittedly never thought about being a Pureblood – it was one of the privileges she had for being so. She had never come across anyone who was outright prejudiced to her kind. Sure, there were many people who didn’t care much for some of their traditions, but as for actually hating them? Pru honestly didn’t know that there was such a thing, and therefore didn’t expect anything from Tier. Besides, being completely forthright with one’s opinions in that day and age was likely to get you in some pretty deep trouble. For most, it was probably safer to keep their mouth shut. Despite the fact that she wasn’t aware of Tier’s hatred, she could immediately tell that there was a change of ambience. Being a Seer made her much more sensitive to those types of things and she frowned at his smile. What had she said? And here she thought that they were just having a regular, casual conversation. Due to her position not only within the Ministry but with her last name, whenever Pru said something questionable, it was rare that someone would correct her. They would just feign that she hadn’t said a thing at all and redirect their conversation.

“Yes, of course, we all know about the IRA. Rather nasty bunch of folks if I do say so myself,” she said boldly. Pru always tried to keep politics to herself but it still slipped out here and there. The last thing that she wanted to do was embarrass her husband by making the papers with some sort of out-of-context quote or something that wasn’t currently politically fashionable. “Well, I don’t know how old you are, but yes, I’d imagine he was a little younger than you.” She was a little disappointed. Pru always liked talking with people who knew one of her children, particularly if they had something nice to say. It was interesting to see an outsider’s point of view.

She shook her head. Perhaps she had imagined the change of attitude as he was still chatting politely with her. If he had been truly offended he probably would have mentioned it or changed the subject – or left, even. Instead he sat there and continued to try to get to know her. “I mean… I’m not sure if it’s officially an arranged marriage. I had always fancied the man and he was a part of my life and it just sort of fell into place.” She smiled, not figuring that she owed Tier a full explanation. The more she gave away the more could be misconstrued. Even though Tier seemed perfectly friendly, he was still a reporter. Pru laughed good-naturedly. “Okay, well, I suppose there’s something to be said for a generous man like yourself,” she joked. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you that one day you’re going to fall head over heels and marry someone,” she avoided the use of a gender there as he hadn’t actually clarified his sexual orientation, “because honestly? Sometimes it doesn’t happen. Sometimes love is fleeting. Some people can be with one person their whole and some other people can be in love over a dozen times. All I’m going to say is that I hope you fall in love at least once, even only briefly. You seem like a nice young lad. Love is fun, spontaneous…” she looked dreamily at Tier. He was attractive and looked like he kept in shape well. She hoped that he would continue that as he aged. Too many people gave up their healthy lifestyle once they aged or got married. Pru could imagine him catching many people’s attention. Not only was he good-looking, but was also quite charismatic.

Pru raised an eyebrow at Tier’s sudden defensiveness. “I meant as a reporter,” she said slowly as if she missed something. “What else could I have meant?” she immediately thought that maybe he thought she was referring to the fact that he was Muggle-born. Pru fiddled with something on her desk to avoid eye contact. Maybe inviting him down had been a bad idea.

Pru couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at his choice of words. “I didn’t expect you the type to use such language,” she responded disapprovingly. The use of the word ‘mud’ was enough for her to make assumptions – the woman hadn’t been born yesterday. “Being aware of activity in the Muggle world is vital to the wizarding way of life. Anyone who deems it unimportant is simply fooling themselves,” she added, growing ever more suspicious of the man in front of him. He sent her all sorts of signals and none of them seemed to correlate with each other. She remembered her one vision of him – she couldn’t imagine him being a bad man considering what she had Seen about him. Her memory of the vision was vague and fading, sort of like when one woke in a dream. The details had eroded but her emotions about it hadn’t. Perhaps Tier still had some growing to do – perhaps he just wasn’t at the same place as he was in her vision yet. It happened to her all the time. The most ironic things happened with people that she met. Some of them would be Muggle-lovers in her visions, but be distinctly prejudicial against them when she first met them. It gave her false first impressions but she found it fascinating to watch people grow into the people that she knew she would.

Pru tightened her lips into a straight line almost like she was forcing herself to not give any more of an opinion on the subject. He was a journalist after all, and for all she knew he was just leading her in a particular direction in order to get an out-of-context quote that she didn’t believe; or something that she believed that she didn’t necessarily want to make public knowledge. Pru didn’t really like the way he described it as ‘convenient.’ She hadn’t married Garrick for convenience. She had married him because she idolized him. He was as close to perfect as she could imagine and she wasn’t willing to let him end up with someone else. She almost laughed at her thoughts – sure, she had succeeded in making him hers, but still he strayed. He would never be settled, and that made her relate him to the young man in front of her. “It’s better to not marry than to be unfaithful,” she commented. “If you’re aware of your… attention deficiency towards women, then maybe it’s for the best.” She wanted to explain the hurt and the heartbreak of knowing that your man had been satisfied by another woman while you were trying your best to juggle work and a family – the struggle of trying to compare to those beautiful young women while you yourself decayed and wrinkled before your very eyes. This wasn’t the time or place, nor would it ever be. She had yet to vocalize her pain. It would only make her look silly to still be with him. Although she could write a novel on the different types of pain that her husband put her through, she could write a series on why she would want to stay. No one would read that, though. They would focus on the negative. They would tell her that she could do better – but how could one do better than the Ollivander? It was impossible. Maybe one day he would age to the point where chasing after women and poorly hiding his endeavours would be too much effort for him and he would finally sit back and appreciate all the sacrifices and effort that his wife had put into their marriage.

Pru smiled lightly at his next comment. “All emotions change people. Yes, love changes, but so does anger and resentment and jealousy and determination. People are capable of much more than they even know, but once you throw any sort of emotion into the mix, their deeper selves come to the surface to play.” Pru was middle-aged, but she had felt so many emotions in her life and had done so many things that she wouldn’t have expected that she believed in what she said completely. She never knew that she would be a poor mother – she had grown up just wanting to be a good one. But her determination and romantic love kept her busy with trying to save her marriage, and her work ethic kept her working for a profit more often than working to make sure her children were raised properly. A person could think that they knew what they wanted with life, but once they were faced with it, it usually changed. Pru shrugged casually. “Besides, there’s more than just romantic love out there. There’s platonic love, there’s a familial love. They all change you. You might be too young to realize it yet, but there are no doubt people in your life that you would do anything for. You might not even realize until you’re stuck in a bind.” Perhaps it was because Pru was a Seer, but she had the habit of talking cryptically. She was too used to trying to hide things from others.

Pru grinned at his long-winded rant. “Anonymity is nothing, young man. Anything I say can be traced back to me. You know that we have the smallest amount of staff in our Department than any other Department? We all have our duties. I’m sure they make it like this so that we can’t talk to reporters, even anonymously, without giving ourselves away.” She spoke as if she were telling a dark story. She had leaned forward in a serious manner with her hands clasped in front of her on the desk. Her cerulean eyes flicked from his face to her hands. Her skin had gotten thinner throughout the years and her veins were visible. Wrinkling took over her fingers. She had the hands of an old woman. She might have nearly mastered looking younger than she looked but her hands were a giveaway and there was nothing she could do about it. Pru moved her hands to her lap and out of sight.

She slid her fruit toward him. “I suppose if you don’t eat it, it’ll simply go to waste and we can’t have that, can we?”

Pru felt a little uncomfortable with the look he had given her in return. She had expected him to look ashamed or a deer caught in the headlights. Instead it was like she had merely looked into him a little and saw a deeper layer of him accidentally, and he didn’t seem to care whatsoever. He cast it off as if he had merely cursed instead of using a very unpopular slur. She frowned at him as she crossed her arms across her chest. Suddenly her office seemed a lot smaller. “Honestly, I wouldn’t particularly care if I were rude and a complete Pureblood elitist. That is foul language that shouldn’t be used no matter the company.” Her eyes searched his face hoping for something to flicker there, some sort of reaction that he had done something wrong. Pru’s previously warm feelings toward him were disappearing faster than they had risen. It was becoming obvious that he wasn’t quite the man that she had seen in her mind yet. Such a pity. “Do you educate the wider population, though?” she challenged. “You have the ability too, but I don’t recall reading about the IRA in the Prophet any time recently.” Her flowery personality was shrinking into hiding. Pru may not have Gryffindor courage, but she had the kind of righteousness and desire for justice and fairness that only a Hufflepuff could feel. Just because she hadn’t attended Hogwarts in years and years didn’t mean that her House traits didn’t rise to the surface now and then. As an adult she learned that life was more important than the traits that you valued during your adolescence but it didn’t mean having to abandon your roots altogether.

“If you want me to be completely honest, you don’t seem that reliable yourself. Perhaps you’re projecting your own insecurities into those that you fancy,” she suggested with a non-committal shrug. “There is nothing better than having people like fixtures in your life. There’s nothing better than being able to turn around and have someone there for you at all times, to be able to crumple against them during your worst times or being able to see their face during the best.” She shook her head. He was still too young to understand. In her mind, he was still in the immature time in his life where everything and everyone was replaceable, but she had enough experience in her life to know that they weren’t. Those people who disappeared would leave gaping holes in you like wounds… wounds that would never quite heal.

Pru felt herself clam up and began to wonder if Tier was only there to get information out of her. She knew that he was trying to play it off as friendly banter in order to maybe get information, but she was beginning to doubt his entire intentions. As much as she was alone during her work day, she was starting to feel the desire to be alone again. Alone was simple, easy… even if it did cause a mind to wander. Pru smiled at the compliment. “I’m assuming so. One cannot exercise away a bad diet.” It was one of her life mottos and she was suddenly determined that it would be the only useful fact that he would get from her that day. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but my lunch break has already been over for five minutes…” she indicated to a strange looking clock on the wall. It had been a gift from someone or another, no doubt for her husband and not for her but she had taken a liking to it so there it was all the same. Her office was uncharacteristically void of any pictures or souvenirs that would even prove that she had a husband and family outside of work. “It’s been a pleasure but I mustn’t be tardy…” she rose from her seat and placed her hands on the top of the desk expectantly. This was why she didn’t socialize much – the first person she socialized with appeared to be some sort of prejudicial nosey reporter type who had a nice smile and used it to his advantage. Perhaps in a few years they’d meet again and he would be better. One could only hope. Pru was getting quite tired of people taking advantage of her good nature.