au_hogwarts | Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office.

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headmaster ozai

Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office.

The Headmaster's office is a light, airy place, tastefully decorated, full of the whispering of portraits and the murmurs of old, near-sentient books. Not all of them intelligible; not all of them in English. Ancient linocuts decorate what space is between the old portraits. In one corner, there is a small shrine.

The gargoyle who guards the door is standing aside in anticipation of your interview.

On one of the many levels of the room, there is a coffee table and a number of armchairs of varying degrees of stiff formality. Currently, there is a tea set on that coffee table, and the fragrance of the tea fills the room. Headmaster Ozai reclines beside it in his own chair, teacup supported on his fingertips, awaiting you and your story with great interest.

Whatever your reason, whoever you are, if you would like a meeting, the Headmaster will see you now.

For a value of 'now' that includes only 'slowtime, farking timezones,' unfortunately.

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Dinah nods to the gargoyle as an old aquaintance, and stands in the doorway, just a little stiffer than in her usual meetings as Head Girl tallking to the Headmaster.

"Good Morning, Sir."

"Ah, Dinah. Always a pleasure."

Ozai rises to greet her with a small bow, robes sweeping the floor.

"Tea?"

Dinah smiles and bows in return, a habit learned from her mother, before she steps fully into the office.

"Thank you, Professor. I'd love some."

She never turns down his formalities.

And his tea is very, very good.

"What news?" he asks her, once it is poured and they are seated. "I'm not often graced with your presence at this time of day."

Well, so much for small talk. Dinah's at least grateful for that.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a sheet of parchment, folded and rolled for owl carrier, with a black border.

"I would like to request a few days off school next week. To attend a funeral."

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Ozai dips his head. "Of course you must go."

He reaches for the sheet, inspects it very briefly, and returns it.

"Is he a relation, then?"

No, Dinah's all out of relations.

"A friend," she says, but quickly follows up: "An old friend. He was like family."

"I see."

Ozai does.

"He sees many things.

"I don't need to tell you, of course, to ensure you make the appropriate arrangements with your teachers."

And Dinah knows this, of course. By coming here and giving him the funeral notice and saying he was like family, she's pretty much acknowledged who he was.

But she wouldn't have the funneral notice if his family didn't want him to be there, and she's jolly well going to ackonwledge him as a hero to her.

"Of course not, Professor. I'll check in with all of them."

Ozai nods approvingly.

If he looks at her with new eyes as they sip tea, well. She's but a child yet, for all her leadership in the school. No threat. But he'll watch her closely, oh, yes.

"I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Dinah says, eyes cast down briefly as she tucks the notice back into her robes.

She's quiet for a few seconds as she drinks her own tea.

Ozai is always one for allowing silences to stretch. As long as his charges need, you see.

(or as long as it takes them to spill something.)

Dinah is pretty good at using this silence. She sips, re-composes herself from the bereavement, and then sits up a little straighter, with a pleasant smile.

"I think we have a good batch of prefects this year," she says.

Iroh enters with a polite bow to the gargoyle and a grin for the linocuts as he's sure he recognizes them. When his eyes fall to the Headmaster however his spine straightens and he offers the bow the Patriarch of his family deserves.

"Good morning, brother," he says as he waits for permission to stand straight. He is freshly washed from his morning exercises and is wearing a clean loose fitting set of clothes; black pants and a green tunic with baggy sleeves - straight from those action movies he enjoys watching so much.

"Ah, my brother, the groundskeeper." Ozai takes a little too long to rise, a little too long to incline his head in the correct greeting.

It would be unforgiveably rude if it were intentional. But surely it isn't. Ozai has adopted many English manners, since arriving here and making his varied political alliances. He merely forgets.

"And a good morning to you. Come in."

Completely forgivable as Ozai undoubtedly has many things on his mind.

Iroh stands and offers a contented smile in reply to Ozai's words. "The tea smells lovely. Jasmine with a hint of ginger if I am not mistaken?" Spying the biscuits, he idly wonders if Ahz would like one but then he left her in the cabin. Wouldn't want an incident to occur.

"Indeed." Ozai inclines his head again in acknowledgement of his brother's superior skills in the area of tea.

It's one thing he's happy to concede. His brother is a fool; let the foolish have their small pleasures.

"And how are you enjoying your new position, my brother?"

Iroh bows his head in acknowledgement of the hint of a compliment.

"I find it suits me well. There are many things to occupy me and yet I find I have time to meditate or practice forms. I may even take up poetry."

"Good morning, sir," Aloysius Crumrin, this year's Head Boy and 7th year Slytherin, says as he enters and waits to be called in past the doorway. He hopes there is coffee but tea will do.

There is never coffee.

Ozai rises, offers him a slight incline of the head. "Ah, Aloysius. Do come in. The tea will be brewed to perfection in a moment."

Aloysius bows his head as he expects the Headmaster would require and enters.

"Tea would be lovely," he says with a bit of cheer though he's thinking, Why couldn't I have studied in France or Italy? Somewhere civilized where they drink coffee? "I don't believe I've had the chance to thank you for the opportunity of being Head Boy, thank you."

"An honour you earned, Aloysius." Ozai seats himself again and gestures at the plush armchair opposite. "Such positions are not given to those who do not deserve them, here."

Aloysius arches an eyebrow at the slight pause between 'deserve them' and 'here' but schools his face soon after.

"I shall pursue my duties carefully of course."

An entire summer of non-stop owls and flue conferences have lead up to this moment: The Hamato Boys have arrived at Hogwarts.

Joy. Rapture.
You can see it on all of their faces. Only...not really.

Well, maybe Michaelangelo's happy to be here, but he kind of gives the overall impression that he'd be happy to be pretty much anywhere.

Raphael is doing his level best to appear simultaneously put out and completely aloof.

Donatello is quietly taking in the room, and mentally breaking it into its component parts, and trying to figure out as much about the Headmaster before them as he can. Already this place is leaps and bounds better than Arkham.

Which leaves Leo. He stands at perfect attention. In fact, there's precious little about the boy that doesn't display a perfect attention to detail.

They've come bearing their own personal records going back to their time at Xavier's. Oh sure Ozai's clearly had all this information for weeks, but it was the parting shot of the Arkham Administration to send them packing with everything just to be sure.

And believe him, Ozai is not best pleased and having to take these four on. They're already in his bad books, for taking up so much of his time.

Some of them have promise. Perhaps in a few years -- But now, he is merely disgruntled at the interruption to his day.

"Well. A pleasure to finally meet you, Messrs Hamato. Tea?"

Their entire family dynamic plays out for Ozai.

Mike quickly looks to Leonardo to see if they want tea. Raph sees this and rolls his eyes. Don is still too busy looking around the room to notice, and Leo merely nods.

"The pleasure is ours, sir. Tea would be lovely."

Noted. All of it.

Interesting.

Possibly useful.

They'd better be useful. They have to make up for this rudeness somehow.

There are four empty cups on the table already, of course. Ozai uses magic to pour the tea - he's not about to do four layabouts the honour of a proper ceremony - and watches them over clasped hands while it is done, frowning slightly.

Only Leonardo seems to genuinely enjoy the tea. Donatello sips at it, swishing each sip around in his mouth once before swallowing. It's as if he's trying to guess the exact blend of tea used in the brew. Raph is entirely disinterested in the tea all together. It's a formality and nothing more, and he doesn't truck formality when he can avoid it. Avoidance is not an option here. Michaelangelo seems....sad at the appearance of the tea. He holds the cup but only drinks as much as is customary for the hospitality. For him it does nothing more but bring about memories of his parents, and as a result of that tastes of ashes in his mouth.

Again, Leonardo becomes the voice of the group.
"This is a fine brew, thank you for sharing it with us."

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Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office.

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