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» 09 August 2021 || I've Been People I'm Not, Kolya
Nicolette Babineaux
 Posted: Jun 14 2018, 07:39 PM
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38 years old

Headmistress/Divination

Hogwarts
Hogwarts Staff


The summer had presented her with an opportunity to regroup, gather resources, and prepare for the year ahead, but there remained responsibilities of the post of Headmistress that Nicolette was not certain she was ready to grapple with. As much as she'd practiced in her years as professor, authority still felt a strange mantle to wear, bulky and overlarge: tool and weapon and shield all at once. The weight of each decision felt amplified by the way it rested first and last with her, her freedoms growing great enough they turned in on themselves and vanished again, and always, the threat of failure lurked where she had not known its presence before. In the past, consequences had been limited to how she might disadvantage herself, or perhaps bungle the teaching of a subject that most students seldom held interest with regardless. There had been little to lose, yet now, it seemed, there was everything.

Among the greatest of her concerns, the act of hiring loomed large, and Nicolette was tireless in her review of those few résumés that reached her desk, scrutiny fueled by the weight of her anxieties. How easy it had been, in the end, for Morrigan to make her way inside the castle walls, how simple for Emily Dawson to take advantage of her professional position. It remained uncertain, whether the former Herbology professor was truly responsible for the death of one of their own, but she'd fled and there seemed little other explanation as to why when all the evidence appeared to tilt in her direction. The older woman had never felt exactly...right to Nicolette, something of her words always ringing disingenuous despite the unassuming manner in which she presented herself. But how much trust could one truly place in an attitude of apparent kindness? Liars professed to tell only truth, and so what options remained but to know enough so as to catch every falsehood as it bloomed? It was an impossible task, and though Nicolette was better equipped for it than most, that did not render it any less daunting. She could not see her students hurt again, not when, this time, there would be no one to blame for it but herself.

And so, the afternoon of the ninth saw Nicolette pacing in anticipation before the fireplace of the Head office, an appointment drawing nearer with each passing twitch of the clock face. It was not the first interview she'd held, but Nicolette dearly hoped it would be her last, at least where the Transfiguration post was concerned. Caution, it seemed, found its match in experience, as locating a willing applicant actually qualified enough to take on the position had ultimately become just as difficult as finding one she could hope to trust. Now was not the time to squander education on beginners; her students needed knowledge and skill with which to defend themselves in a world that seemed forever balanced on the edge of eruption, and there was no room to compromise. It was only unfortunate that the more experience a person accrued, the more life experiences they accumulated, effectively eliminating all hope for a record the proper side of pristine. Helena had been a blessing, looking back, her good heart and strong hands doing all they could to defend her students until the strength of her mind had at last allowed no more. Where was Nicolette to find someone equally as capable?

Returning to her desk, Nicolette once again lifted the file she'd obtained, staring down at the shifting image of Kolya Dolgorukov. After a little outreach to the Ministry, his record had come back clear enough not to discount him immediately, and his tenure at Ilvermorny certainly fulfilled the necessary credentials, but Nicolette still did not feel she could be sure of him. She would know next to nothing, of course, until she'd actually met him, but much could be divined from a name and the shape of the light as it captured one's image. As though aware of her thoughts, Dolgorukov's photograph seemed to smirk. Nicolette frowned in response.

Her contemplation was broken by the sudden flaring of the Floo, and Nicolette looked up to find a dark figure stepping out into her office. First impressions were often invaluable, and so Nicolette made no waste of her opportunity, gaze open and interested as she observed the way the stranger moved and the faint aura of color that followed him like an afterimage of emerald flame. Head held high and back straight, she dropped his file onto the desk, hands clasping together inside the flowing sleeves of her robes--where the fingers of her left hand could touch carefully the shaft of her oak wand, hidden inside the folds of her right sleeve.

"Welcome, Monsieur Dolgorukov," she greeted him, nodding in the direction of a chair set across from her. "Do make yourself comfortable." For her part, Nicolette remained standing. "I appreciate zat you were able to meet with me zis afternoon. I assume you are aware of ze need 'Ogwarts 'olds for reliable members of staff at ze moment? It is my 'ope I may consider your interest genuine."

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Kolya Dolgorukov
 Posted: Jun 16 2018, 01:37 PM
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53 years old

Transfiguration Prof

Europe
Hogwarts Staff


”Checking your watch for the umpteenth time won’t make it tick any faster, idiot, the Russian-born wizard inwardly scolded himself. His grey eyes flicked behind him once more towards the bar. Alcohol on the breath for an interview still wouldn’t be his brightest idea, but it was becoming the more popular one as the minutes ticked so slowly by.

”Blya,” Kolya muttered under his breath as he gripped the mantle of the fireplace more tightly and rolled his head back and forth as if trying to pop his neck. In all his years abroad, the Russian had yet to find an expletive that depicted his annoyances or frustrations better than the one in his own familial tongue. Even such a familiar curse was like putting a bandaid on a gaping wound though. Feckless. Kolya pressed his weight into his toes, forcing himself to keep from pacing, trying to contain his agitation.

The normally calm, calculated, and cocky wizard hadn’t foreseen this outcome when he’d made his reservations at the inn. He hadn’t imagined that a quiet night without the disturbances of his ward or the general hum of 'Ilvermorny at night' in his old stomping grounds would actually disturb his sleep. Unlike every little boy and girl who feared the dark, Kolya hadn’t thought about the ghosts that might come to visit in the quiet solitude of his room. He hadn’t recalled all the memories that might go bump in the night - that is, until last night.

The Russian animagus remembered a time when the Leaky Cauldron had been eerily empty and quiet. A time in his past when he’d been used as a puppet in a game that extended much farther than his own perspective could see. Or chose to see.

Kolya muttered something unintelligible under his breath. This was why he needed to get out of this place! Like an annoying faucet needing to be fixed, the inn was drip-drip-dripping with old memories. Things Kolya hadn’t second guessed in twenty years were suddenly as prevalent as if he was just beginning to question his existence at the age of 53! He’d thought about making a break for it, but this was the floo he’d agreed to travel from. He’d thought about blowing off the interview, but then, what was he even doing here?

The wizard forced himself to inhale deeply as his head sank between the two arms that were locked onto the mantle. He could not let himself forget his purpose here. The ghosts, the memories, the possible notice of the Wizengamot...it was all worth it because he was here to make it right. He was here to make his family name a part of something good within the European wizarding world for once. Right the past wrongs, Kolya reminded himself before glancing at his watch again.

Finally, it was time. A quick sniff, the readjustment of his vest, a scoop of floo powder in his hand, and Kolya stepped into the fireplace. ”Hogwarts. Headmistress’ Office,” the professor clearly commanded as he chucked the powder at his feet. The lick of the green flames brought instant relief. Like dousing himself with a cold shower, they brought with them the promise of a change of scenery and the possibility of absolution. Kolya closed his eyes as he began zooming past other fireplaces. To be completely honest, he was not a fan of this form of travel. It turned his stomach if he watched, so he just kept his eyes tightly shut until he felt the whoosh and change in the smell of the air that meant he’d reached his destination. Kolya’s eyes flashed open. Free of the clanking chains of the past locked within the Leaky Cauldron, he smirked as he stepped out of the fireplace. The game was on, and the Russian was ready.

”Zdras-tye,” Kolya returned the Headmistress’s welcome with a nod of his head and a Russian hello. ”Thanks for the invitation, Ms. Babineaux.”

As she offered him a seat, Kolya took a second to glance around the room as he unbuttoned the single button that had been holding his suit jacket across his vest. His eyes did a quick analysis of the various odds and ends about the room before returning to the woman in charge and lowering himself into the offered seat. ”Again, thank you,” he nodded once more with a quick raise of his eyebrows before his hand met his ankle as it came to rest on his knee. The calm line of a smile rested easily across his face as his thoughtful gaze met Babineaux’s. He appreciated the fact that she got right to the point and didn’t bust his balls with the pleasantries. Those were tedious at best.

Kolya’s free hand came to rest with a finger across his lips and a thumb on his chin as his elbow rested on the chair’s arm while the headmistress explained the reason for his being invited to Hogwarts for an interview. A shimmer of something balancing between playful and knowledgeable flickered behind Kolya’s eyes as he lowered his hand from his lips. ”By ‘need,’ I assume you’re asking whether or not I’m aware that my proposed predecessor is now a very large potato sitting pretty and very veggi-fied in St. Mungos.” The comment could be misconstrued as a question, but Kolya figured the Headmistress of Hogwarts wouldn’t be that dense, so he continued. ”As for ‘reliability,’ I’ll wager that’s why you’ve asked me here today.” He’d have to be a brainless troll to think she wasn’t about to peck at his past and present intentions like a raven on a cob of corn.

The Russian wizard’s eyes never fell away from Babineaux’s gaze except perhaps to blink. His demeanor was relaxed and confident as he added, ”My offer is genuine.” His hands flicked upwards in a movement akin to a shrug. ”I’m here to help, to teach.” He only wondered if her interest in him was as authentic. His fingers interlaced as his hands folded together in his lap. ”I can promise you, I never waste my own time.” Whether or not she believed him...well, that would show soon enough.

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Nicolette Babineaux
 Posted: Jun 25 2018, 05:00 AM
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38 years old

Headmistress/Divination

Hogwarts
Hogwarts Staff


Nicolette did not need to look very far at all to see the bravado that clung to Kolya Dolgorukov like a cloak, described clearly enough in the mundane it seemed redundant to attempt to peer deeper. There was more, of course, as there always was, for experience was seldom ever a singular phenomenon, emotions twisting and mingling beneath the surface to create motivations and anxieties and fears, but Nicolette was careful not to lose herself in overeager study of the possibilities, gaze sliding away from the faint amber deepening into subtle green about his edges. A faint guilt lingered with her still, accompanied by a hesitancy to lean too heavily on her perceptions, and there would be no forgiving herself if she concluded the afternoon's interview with anything less than a sense of certainty. Perhaps it was a blessing that Dolgorukov intended to make himself so easy to judge.

'Ms. Babineaux...'

It seemed a persnickety sort of thing to latch onto, but Nicolette could not help the faint frown lines that appeared at the corners of her eyes as her expression hardened slightly. Respect was hard to come by, and she'd had a difficult enough time finding it over the years. Such dearth only seemed amplified by her ascension to the post of Headmistress, when disregard seemed discernible in the subtlest of gestures. She was in possession of a title now, was she not, and as a man who intended to take up a post for a position working under her, Dolgorukov might have made an effort to use it. Like the coaxing of careful hands across the surface of a bedspread, Nicolette breathed in and smoothed the wrinkle of her irritation away. It seemed trivial enough, and there was no need to move to such reaction for the sake of what was likely a mistake. At least, not until Dolgorukov opened his mouth again.

Nicolette's eyes widened marginally at his blatant insensitivity, somewhat shocked by his choice of words. Perhaps she herself made a habit of finding lightness in tragedy, alleviating the stress of dark times in dark humor, but that was a far cry from such flippant disregard for the crippling of others. And in front of a stranger, at that.

"You could say reliability is among ze reasons I 'ave asked you 'ere," Nicolette replied, voice carrying a significant note of sternness. It was, perhaps, unusual for her to stoop to scolding her students - or at least, it had been before her sphere of necessary discipline had grown to encompass the entirety of the school - but those few who had experienced the phenomenon might have recognized the expression that had overtaken her face, eyebrows raised in challenge, and lips drawn tightly into a straight line. "It is far from ze last, 'owever. I am unfamiliar with Ilvermorny's teaching practice, Monsieur, or zeir attitude toward staff sensitivity, but 'ere at 'Ogwarts we ascribe to an atmosphere of 'ealthy respect. Such considerations are important now more zan ever, in ze wake of a series of attacks which left our former 'Eadmistress and Transfiguration professor 'veggi-fied', as you put it. I doubt very much zere is a member of zis staff or student body who would appreciate 'earing our suffering referred to with such blatant insensitivity. So you see, your ability to conduct yourself appropriately within an academic setting, and your intention to carry yourself with an attitude of compassion, are also important considerations."

With a slight tilt of her head, as though daring the man across from her to test her again, Nicolette at last moved into the chair behind the Headmistress' desk, hand leaving her wand to rest across the arm of her seat. Her prior nervousness had left her in the moment of her affront, and the threat of appearing small behind the enormity of her desk no longer concerned her. Her frame was, perhaps, diminutive, but she did not intend to allow Dolgorukov mistake her for someone of small spirits. Hadn't she always been underestimated, and hadn't she always found a way to teach a more accurate truth, for there was great value in learning and even more in demolishing misconceptions. It helped, of course, that she'd also performed a bit of Transfiguration on her chair after the first of her interviews, determined that prospective candidates would see her when they looked across the desk, and as a result, the cushion seemed to lift slightly as she settled backward into it, offering her a marginal elevation.

It would, perhaps, have been an easier matter to simply replace the chair itself, or the desk, or organize another area within the office for the sake of conversation as she had during student evaluations at the end of the year, but Nicolette remained, admittedly, hesitant to change more than was necessary about the office around her. As a result, it was only the immediate vicinity, and perhaps the mantle of the fireplace, that reflected her influence: collections of papers and stones and books organized carefully across the surface of her desk, an over-sized shawl covering the back of her chair, and a cluster of crystals and resins waiting handy above the fireplace. The rest, she had been hesitant to disturb, uncertain of what had been left behind by Bulgraham and Helena and what belonged there in a more permanent sense as those portraits of previous professors and the Sorting Hat unarguably did. Compared to the rest of it - strange but useful looking instruments and tall bookcases and cabinets full of records - she felt far more temporary.

"I 'ope you will 'ave ze same regard for my time" she replied with a slight quirk of her eyebrow and subtle smirk. She held her share of insecurities, perhaps, but the fact remained that the record of her history with Hogwarts spanned seven years, and within her halls, Dolgorukov was the inexperienced one. "Zis past year was a trying one for all of us, and as a result, security 'as become an 'igh priority around our campus. I require someone I can trust, and regardless of eagerness, I will not settle in zis regard, even if we are to continue on without a professor for the time being. So tell me, Monsieur, of your qualifications, your time at Ilvermorny. Show me 'ow genuine you are."

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Kolya Dolgorukov
 Posted: Jun 27 2018, 02:25 PM
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53 years old

Transfiguration Prof

Europe
Hogwarts Staff


Slight dip to the lines in her face, the widening of the eyes, but always that acute attention to sweeping it under the rug. That is, until the eyebrow raise he’d expected from his intentional comment about the giant hospitalized potato.

Kolya made mental notes of each and every reaction from the headmistress, both physical and verbal. She certainly seemed to make an effort of minimizing her readability without coming off as sketchy. It seemed to be a common trait for many of those in positions of power. The Russian had never had a problem with authority - be they male or female. He actually preferred the role of a follower. After all, when the need arose, he liked having the option of saying things along the lines of, “not my department.” Administrators and leaders of all sorts couldn’t avoid responsibilities like that. Nevertheless, those that chose to accept his useful skills and earn his loyalty had better be prepared to have their boundaries challenged. He was a worthwhile asset but never a simple or easy one. This tiptoeing along the cliff-edge however, had helped him develop a very sensitive judgement of body language and verbal communication. Tightrope walkers needed to know just how taut the line was.

If he hadn’t been here for an interview, Kolya most certainly would have laughed when he was able to get the Headmistress of Hogwarts to say “veggie-fied.” Priceless. So many Eastern Europeans were overly concerned with the correctness of their speech. He’d forgotten just how nitpicky and supercilious they could be about word choice. Sentimental speech had never been his thing, but if that was what it took to get the job - he could fudge it. “Genteeleese has never been my strong suit,” Kolya admitted with a borderline apologetic dip of his head to the right. ”But I understand your meaning. I’ll do my best to check the assholery at the door and respect the professional nature of the school.”

Kolya’s resting smile widened, reaching his eyes, as Babineaux made her retort about time, suggesting hers had the same importance as his own. In silent reply, both his eyebrows raised and lowered quickly with a tilt of his head the left before he straightened in his chair. As one elbow rested on the arm of the chair again, the professor’s body leaned into it a bit, retaining his relaxed posture but keeping him more eye level with the headmistress. His smile softened, but remained present along the upturned edges of the resting lines of his lips. That was when the woman began to delve into the ideas of security, trust, and, particularly, her willingness to leave this meeting sans a professor in the position (well-played, his mind noted).

”So, you’re after all the things that aren’t in my resume then?” Resisting the temptation to add on a comment about how that was best done in the bedroom, the animagus merely lifted a curious eyebrow in her direction. Truthfully, while supposedly illegal, it would have been easier just to get a legilimens in here to discern his intentions and the validity of his truths. Of course, suggesting illegal activities to the rigid Eastern European didn’t seem likely to get him the job and the absolution he sought. He was reasonably confident that she had all the information about his trial being dismissed, the high marks in transfiguration at Durmstrang, and his abilities as an animagus… what was left that was professionally relevant?

Kolya leaned further on his left arm to reach with his right into his pocket. Upon finding what he’d been searching for and unfolding the parchment, he resettled himself in the chair as he said, “I think you’ll see in my letter of recommendation from the headmaster at Ilvermorny, he thinks I’m full of cheek - but worth the extra headaches.” The headmaster may or may not have sent his own copy ahead of this interview, but Kolya doubted it. That old wizard was losing his touch with reality...

“Although, I believe he phrased it a bit more politely,” Dolgorukov added as he skimmed through the letter.

A silent “Ah” formed on his lips with a lift of his finger as the professor found the section he’d been looking for. “Dolgorukov’s abilities are more than sufficient to supply students with excellent technical and practical tutelage. His skills as an educator give students a close-up and personal look at this scientific branch of magical abilities while imbuing the necessary knowledge to help form them into successful wizards and witches even after their education is complete. While his choice of words and statements are not always professional, they are to the point - making him a trustworthy and efficient, albeit unorthodox, employee.” Kolya merely read what he figured would best answer Babineaux’s question.

The Russian leaned forward to pass the letter to the headmistress, so she could peruse the rest at her own leisure. In the meantime, he gave her the rest of his off-resume rundown. “In my tenure at the school, you’ll find no professional history of aggression, misguidance, or malfeasance. I'm good at my job.” And I enjoy it, he thought, but there was no need for sentimentality here. Genuine, in his mind, meant the facts.

“Outside of the school…” Kolya made that same shrugging hand gesture with his palms facing toward the ceiling as his face screwed up slightly. “My personal life is my own. I have a ward. Make what you will of it, as others have. Since I don’t dally with students, it doesn’t affect my professional career.” Basically, it was outside of her jurisdiction, and he never divulged details he didn’t feel were required.

As for those pesky rumors of dark magic… “Durmstrang, as I’m sure you’re aware, has a strong focus on the dark arts - more practical than defensive.” Not that he would argue whether the Northern school’s perspective on the art was better or worse than Hogwarts’. “So, yes, I have experience in that field. Since my time with MACUSA though, I’ve only experimented with that form of magic in an educational format. That’s going on twenty years now. Abstaining from such practices for such a continued period of time should be considerable proof of my…” Kolya lingered for a thoughtful (rather than hesitant) moment, his taste buds searching for the best word. ”Dedication,” he decided. He wasn’t necessarily skirting around the issues that had him marked for trial with the Wizengamot so many years ago. The facts were in the paperwork already in her hand, and therefore unnecessary for him to rehash. He’d been acquitted. Case closed.

“Other than that,” the Russian continued with a low rush of air out of his nose and a slight lift of his eyebrows. What else was there to say? “My only act of negligence has been in my own home.”

The Russian professor figured that could be misleading, but what was an interview without a little fun? Pulling his ankle back onto his knee, the animagus continued. ”I like to use my skills in transfiguration to turn things into pets or vice versa to entertain myself and my ward. One time, I transformed so many items and reversed so many transfigurations that I actually lost track of a living mouse. I figure it’s still safely tucked away somewhere as a little snuffbox…” Kolya smirked. Perhaps he should have mentioned his self-appointed and attained studies at Ougadou…that would have been more professionally focused. Ah well.

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Nicolette Babineaux
 Posted: Jul 16 2018, 04:02 PM
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38 years old

Headmistress/Divination

Hogwarts
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How quickly a tension seemed to have settled over the room, the space between them growing thick with the ebb and flow of their respective intentions. In her latest interviewee, Nicolette had discovered a man of some considerable will, with an eye for watching what transpired around him with a dedication she could feel pricking along her skin. They'd begun to size one another up like a pair of predators, and despite her easygoing nature, Nicolette was loathe to back down. She'd often considered, how the Houses of Beauxbatons might compare to Hogwarts' four, and where she herself might fit in. Often times, she felt as though she represented a fifth house - those of a learning beyond the castle's walls; an eternal outsider - but her brief tenure as Head of Ravenclaw had sparked her imagination. The noble Eagle had seemed, in some ways, a fitting banner, though Hufflepuff had perhaps drawn her attention as well, enamored with its sense of loyalty and good faith. Staring down the man across from her, however, she could almost imagine a lion's mane resting on her shoulders, a courage and resilience and violently protective nature holding her steady as she gazed into eyes that seemed perpetually on the verge of laughter. What would Levi think of that?

'So, you’re after all the things that aren’t in my resume then?'

"Precisely," Nicolette replied, chin held high and perhaps a touch haughty. There was something in his mood she did not quite like, something that felt far too much like he was teasing her, but then Dolgorukov was shifting to pull a letter from his pocket, and the sensation faded. She'd received the recommendation from Ilvermorny's Headmaster as part of the professor's application, and she reached out to peel open her own file of papers on the man across from her, shuffling through until she found the parchment in question and reading along. Of course it had been sufficient to vouch for the man's qualifications, or else she hardly would have bothered to contact him with a chance to meet, but men tended to have their own notions of what was appropriate in a classroom setting, and she did not always agree with them.

The ideas of practical knowledge and trustworthiness stood out to Nicolette the most, both of them characteristics she was most eager to find in a prospective new hire. The world was hardly so peaceable as it had been for the past twenty odd years, since those last flickers of the war had died down enough for her to hear a call from across the ocean, and though things had quieted some since Morrigan's parting, Nicolette did not have much faith they would remain calm. One day, upset would come again, no matter how distant, and her students would be as prepared as she could possibly make them. They'd all learned a lesson from the relaxation of peace-time.

"If you can truly boast such a matter as your only negligence," Nicolette mused as Dolgorukov finished his explanation, a pronounced degree of skepticism apparent in her tone, "you may consider me impressed. But you are dismissive of your 'ome life in a manner I admit I find concerning. Your professional 'istory is of a level zat I find desirable among members of my staff, at ze moment. I am not opposed to offering opportunity to less experienced applicants, but now is not ze time. You may be surprised to find even your...past association with ze Dark Arts is not objectionable. Sometimes, it is necessary to truly understand what one is facing in order to stop it." Here, Nicolette paused, jaw drawing somewhat tight as she studied the man across from her. She knew what it was to look into darkness.

"I intend for my students to receive a practical education, as you say. Defensive as far as defense is truly realistic. But zis is where restraint and decorum must come into play. You must know, on your own terms, where ze line lies. Where is too far and what is a necessity. As a member of zis staff, you would be required to stay on campus, at ze very least, for several nights out of the week for ze purposes of student safety and guardianship. Zis will be your 'ome, and so 'ow you act at 'ome must also function along ze lines of zese boundaries. Of course I must also ask if zis will interfere with ze care of your ward..."

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