Details for Remedial Education |
Summary: | A Muggle Liaison, a Tester, and an Obliviator walk into a … tea room. Polite introductions, hopes, anxieties, and opinions ensue. |
Date: | May 5, 1940 |
Location: | The Ministry - Minnie's Tea of Magic |
Related: | — |
Characters |
It's midday and the Ministry is a bustle of activity, as it usually is during the week. Isobel has decided to have her lunch at the cafe located in the Ministry, a bowl of soup and a sandwich sitting in front of her. Meanwhile, on her lap, rests a few pieces of parchment, which on occasion, she scratches in a few notes with a quill. It appears, even during her lunch 'break', she works, which may not be the most unusual of sights. Every now and then she takes a bite of the sandwich or a spoonful of the soup, and she even takes a few moments of rest from the work, every few minutes, just to rest her eyes and gaze around to see the people around her. People watching is fun!
One of those people has just left the cafeteria line with soup, a bit of bread, and a cup of the place's specialty. Beckett gets out of the way and surveys the tables for a place to sit. With a professional smile, he reaches Isobel's table. "May I join you? I have seen you about but we've never been properly introduced. I am Beckett Titus Nott." He courteously does /not/ set his meal down on the table until permission is granted.
"Hmmm?" Her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Isobel clears her throat and smiles. With her Scottish accent, she speaks up. "Please, have a seat." With a free hand she motions to a free seat at the table. "'Tis a pleasure ta meet ya, Mr. Nott. M'name's Isobel Strudwick. I'd give ya my middle name as well…bu' most people look at me strangely until I tell 'em the English version o' it." She grins widely.
Beckett's smile remains professionally in place, despite the less-than-upper class wizarding accent. "Try me, Ms. Strudwick," he says, setting down his plate, bowl of soup, and saucer and teacup, and seating himself. "What is it?"
Carrying a tray laden with soup, and bread, and a bit of cake, and even some nice fried chips is a garishly clad, brightly smiling witch. Brandy glances around the cafe, trying to decide which table she's going to sit at uninvited today when her eyes light on Isobel - so that's one decision made. "Hey! Gwen!" she greets the other woman. "Izzy! Ol' buddy ol' pal." She seems determined to play with names as she sets down her tray and has a seat. "Turned anything into something odd lately?" she asks, before shoving a chip into her mouth. They're best when they're hot and fresh after all.
"If you insist, Mr. Nott! M'middle is 'Gwenhwyfar'. 'Tis the Welsh version, honourin' m'mother's side of the family." Isobel explains. Her attention soon turns to a familiar voice. "Brandy! So good ta see ya. Please join us! Do ya mind if she joins?" She asks, almost as an aside, to Beckett. "Mr. Beckett Titus Nott, this is Brandy Sweetwater."
Beckett inclines his head to Brandy. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sweetwater." He sounds out the middle name in his head. "It isn't _that_ different," he opines. "No doubt the spelling compensates." He smiles against any sting those words might hold. "Do you two work in the same department?" he asks. "I'm in M.A.C. myself. An Obliviator." And with a spoon, he takes a 'bite' from his soup.
"Do you have any idea how many Miss Sweetwaters there are?" Well. … he just may. He certainly went to school with a few of them. Brandy shrugs that aside. "Just Brandy. I'm with Muggle Liaisons these days," she remarks. "And, well, pretty much since I graduated. Though Bacardi keeps going on and on about you like you're some bloody marvel," she remarks, letting out a quiet laugh. "He's got too much time on his hands, that kid."
"Aye. 'Tis nae terribly different, bu' sometiems people jus' are so accustomed ta the versions o' names tha' they know, tha' they cannae figure out another version, like the Welsh. O' course, it probably doesnae help tha' I'm sayin' a Welsh name with a Scottish accent." Isobel chuckles and grins widely. "An' while my friend Brandy here is with Muggle Liasons, I'm with the Wizardin' Examinations Authority." She explains.
"Just Brandy, then." Beckett grins at the mention of a younger fan. "I'm not bad." He pauses, then concedes, "I am rather good, really. I don't carry pictures around to sign for people," he says with a small snort. "But if it would make him happy, I can arrange one." He takes a small sip of tea, then, teacup still raised, he says, "Really, it's good he has an interest in dueling. Now more than ever, it's important to be able to defend yourself. Classroom practice isn't enough." With a small nod towards Isobel, since she does work with education, "Though it is of course a necessary foundation."
Brandy can't help but laugh. "It would delight him," she answers - though there's some mischevous brewing behind her gaze as she adds, "Or - I could arrange to have him here, sometime, at lunch. If you wouldn't mind bumping into him in person. He hasn't yet reached the 'classroom practice' stage."
Glancing over at Isobel, she adds, "It's probably a good thing we aren't in school, either. I'm not entirely sure Isobel here would have passed me. She's pretty strict - aren't you?"
Taking a bite of her sandwich, Isobel can't help but smile a little bit at the conversation. "'Tis quite the thing, bein' skilled at duellin'." She chuckles and smile warmly at Beckett. "Donnae worry. I happen ta agree. While the classroom is important, as it gives the students their foundation an' helps 'em really learn an' get on their ways, learnin' in the classroom is a far cry from usin' those skills in real life. Havin' practical practice, whether on the duellin' circuit or even just amongst a group of amateurs, helps." She adds her opinion on the matter. "I'd rather 'em all be safe and skilled than sorry, if possible."
Isobel chuckles and shakes her head at Brandy. "Aye, I certainly can be strict, I suppose. I try ta be nice, especially when it warrants. Bu' magic is nae a laughin' matter. If I'm examinin' ya, I'm nae gonna go easy on ya." If she's taken anything from her father, it's his strict, but fair, attitude when it comes to some things.
"Good." Beckett approves wholeheartedly with Isobel's strictness - or at least he gives that impression. To Brandy, he says, "Of course I wouldn't mind." His smile widens a touch. "Bring him by. If I'm not in the office, I assure you there's very good reason," he adds wryly. "Dragons, children with wands, and wizards and witches whose reach exceeds their grasp - that is almost all I do. Miss Strudwick, it is about to be a very busy time for you, is it not?"
"See - my problem is my horrible, horrible, allergy to studying" Brandy remarks in a solemn tone before looking back towards Beckett. "I can imagine it's interesting work," she agrees. "Though I've no plans to run afoul of it. I have had to call in obliviators a few times - when I family didn't take to reality too well. Always such a shame. It's hard on the kids." She takes a hearty bite of her sandwich.
"'Tis quite the job you Obliviators have." Isobel switches to her soup, sipping some of it. "Those poor children from Muggle families whose parents donnae know how to handle what their children are. They have my sympathy!" She shakes her head, a sad look upon her face. Looking up at Beckett, she nods. "Aye. Exams will be happenin' jus' next month. With all tha's been happenin' at Hogwarts this year, I can only hope tha' the muggle-borns were brought up ta speed fast enough. I know they've had a while, bu' I still worry."
"No doubt it is a lot to take in at once, when you show up at their door," Beckett says, looking down at his soup. "But a necessary precaution." He takes a few spoonfuls. "Will you be relaxing standards, given the circumstances?" The question is asked casually - very, very casually.
"And we had all those extra tutoring sessions for them - on the weekends," Brandy reminds Isobel. "I think they're going to do alright." She HOPES they're going to do alright. Some of them are her kids! She lets out a quiet snickers as she adds, "Izzy here - relax standards? When vampires sprout rainbows."
"Oh, aye. There were indeed the tutoring sessions." Isobel nods in agreement. "I donnae know if I'd relax them, really. But neither would it've been fair if the students were forced to take their OWLs or NEWTs had they been ill-prepared due ta the circumstances which were outta their control. Bu', as Brandy says, we did hold some tutorin' sessions ta help 'em. So, perhaps they're ready." She offers a little smile. "Now, if they were ill prepared due ta their own negligence due to lack o' study, then I'd definitely nae be concerned. Likewise if they've jus' nae got particular interest or skill in a particular field o' magic. I treat all students equal, otherwise. If ya come into my line, an' ya are ta be examined by me, I'll treat the most skilled young witch or wizard the same as the least. I'll ask them the same set o' questions an' have 'em perform the same set o' spells."
Beckett nods. "But no one wants to hire someone who passed tests of a lower difficulty," he points out. "I imagine the Aurors would have a fit, for one. I am glad you will be holding the same standards for all of the students." He raises an eyebrow. "I did not know there was extra tutoring. Good planning." He finishes his tea.
"Mmmhmm - even had Aurors helping with it," Brandy remarks. "Rena Faulkner. She's a Muggleborn, you see, so she had a particular interest in seeing that Muggleborns get a fair shake. And Camilla, and Lovegood - plenty of folks. Not to mention their Professors and classmates. Better the beginning of the year, anyways, rather than towards the end." She seems pretty confident that the students will do well, as she digs further into her meal unperturbed.
"I'd believe ya ta be correct." Isobel nods to Beckett. "What'd be the point in a person gettin' a higher mark on their tests when their tests werenae a proper indicator o' what their skills are?" She shrugs and nibbles on her sandwich. "Aye, there were some good people helpin' with the tutorin'. I suppose I'll get ta see the results next month."
Beckett agrees nonverbally with another nod, as he digs into his sandwich - not delicately, but very carefully.
"Now, if that Yorke boy doesn't do well, I'd be shocked," Brandy remarks. "He's a good sort - and bright. Always willing to take the time to help the younger students, too." She gestures with a chip as she talks - and then eats it.
"Well, you'll have ta ask him, once grades are released. See how he did." Isobel gives Brandy a little wink. "Bu' 'tis always nice ta see students willin' ta help each other. An' I'm glad tha' they all seem ta be doin' better. Especially with the end o' the school year comin' up."
Beckett settles down to the serious business of eating, listening more than speaking.
"Had a few I was genuinely worried about. One family was talking about moving to America - which, well, it's admirable to see a Muggle family so dedicated to their child's magical education, isn't it? But I'm glad we didn't lose such a promising young mind to America. He's always done well in his classes, and he has hopes to be a Healer," Brandy blathers cheerfully - she's gesturing with her tea now.
"Moving to America!" Isobel shakes her head in wonder. "I'm certainly glad they didnae have ta do tha'." Folding up the parchment that has been resting on her lap, she gently places it, along with the quill, underneat the plate that holds her sandwich. "We could use good Healers here, so I'm certainly glad tha' they didnae have ta go." She bites her sandwich and chews, thinking for a moment. "I wonder if they'll be comfortable enough with the leg-growin' spell an' the vanishin' spell…"