A Suggestion (Bo)

Leaving Hogwarts when she had was proving to be the best decision of Adelaide Goshawk's life. Not that the redhead's workload had become any less from her stepping down as Headmistress. But at least now she didn't have to deal with children. To anyone who had thought two years of teaching younglings would inspire her to find them endearing, the woman could now clearly say "No".

Her duties as part of Harvey's unofficial cabinet member had smoothly replaced those of being a board member of the wizarding school. Her final report had concluded without a doubt that not only had she improved upon the school's financial gains over her two year tenure but that she had made it a much safer, child friendly, attack friendly and disciplined place for young witches and wizards. Now, having handed the reigns to poor Andrei Kessler, the witch was left with a deep, intrinsic satisfaction that things could only go downhill from here.

As promised, Adelaide had awarded the internship to one fitting student, Clara Goldstein. And what a feeling it was to watch the girl's progress form afar, witnessing the young witch not only meeting expectations but sometimes even surpassing them. Adelaide's own relationship with her daughter Autumn had never allowed for her to feel proud of the younger redhead but she imagined this was what it would have felt like had she been given the opportunity - to watch something she nurtured grow and admire her own decision in picking the horse that would win.

Young Miss Goldstien had a knack for no nonsense business even Adelaide could appreciate, and it would be a shame to watch the girl's training and acumen disappear down the rabbit hole of Hogwarts student politics. No, for the young witch to remain sharp, she would need to be constantly in touch with the working environment, getting herself ready to not only go into the world a the end of her education but even conquer parts of it in some fashion. Which was why Adelaide found herself making her way up to Magical Law Enforcement and towards a department she would never have thought to step her three thousand pound heels in otherwise.

Adelaide thoroughly enjoyed the effect she had on most people here, being greeted with the same sharpness with which the ministry workers would greet Harvey. The receptionist at the MLE lobby stood to attention as the distinguished witch entered, not sitting down until Adelaide was safely past her corridor, the aurors all bowed respectfully as she passed by their offices and even the old wizards in Regulation and Control sat up more stiffly upon spying her walking through their hallway to the little cupboard that served as the entire Department of Intoxicating Magical Substances.

Reaching the once broom closet turned office, Adelaide only knocked once for decorum's sake, not waiting for a reply as she pulled the door open, her sharp green eyes surveying the scene within.

Surveying the office Bocephus Teddy Miller’s fingers snapped together, causing the sharpened stainless steel object to click as something bounced into the trash. Placing on the table and lighting an old-fashioned muggle match his cigar took light. Taking a couple deep inhales, he chewed the end of the cigar moving it to the left and right side of his mouth. A small tune country tune playing as a backdrop, drowning out the normal commotion that reigned outside the paper-thin door.

Having only taken over the room a couple days before it still lacked a notable charm to it. The “Office” was big enough for his desk, a pair of ancient filing cabinets, one trash can, enough area to have two chairs in front of his desk, and if you really sucked it in three people. Still, it had a certain charm to it he thought. For the most part the office had that distinct look of being in-between owners, giving up its previous occupant, while retaining their belongings, with the addition of the next occupant bringing all of theirs. Besides the papers that littered the desk, and more than one on the floor the only item that stuck out was the one he currently was surveying. It had been placed high enough to avoid potential head knocking by all those under 6 foot, however it took precedence of most of the available upper air space. The taxidermied head of an elk, whose antlers currently popped some of the ceiling tiles a couple inches up. A Small whistle was let out while he flicked some ashes into a tray clearly impressed with his own handiwork.

He had enough time to turn and replace the cigar in his mouth as fierce of a woman he had ever seen barged into his space. Looking her up and down all he saw was dollars wasted, a fact he doubted was hidden from his face. As for him, he had yet to adorn the wizard community attire, instead still in the clothes he had worn from his plane. Starting in scuffed and worn cowboy boots, jeans to match, a denim button up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and finally adorned by a cowboy hat that had seen better days. Rolling the cigar to the other side of his mouth he let out a pleasant “Ma’am” tipping his hat, before removing and placing on the desk.

He had only had one other occasion to meet the ghastly Goshawk, and it had been about this pleasant to say the least. He had only officially taken his post two weeks before, and it being only 13 hours into his official start time it was hard to imagine what trouble he had already caused. Gesturing to one of his two neglected chairs, he would indicated for her to sit if she like, staying standing until she did. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He would ask. While he was polite, his posture remained relaxed. Maybe it was professional ignorance, or something more personal, but he had yet to see what all the fuss was about when this lady walked by. Besides, them heels clicked so loud it’d be easier to hear her comin than a beaver buildin a dam.

A critical eye trained to find imperfection swept the area as Adelaide entered. Of course, the untidiness would have been apparent to even one not trained to see flaws to a degree she was. Whether this place could be called an office was yet to be seen, but she supposed people had to be placed somewhere. And Mr. Miller had clearly been fitted in here, underneath the ghastly head of whatever creature hung above the room.

For a moment, the redhead reconsidered her plans. Her protege might not be able to maintain her edge in such unsavory environs. But of course, life was made up of challenges, even if they came in the form of unkempt cowboys chewing cigars underneath a hanging beast.

At his invitation to sit, Adelaide merely eyed the two rickety chairs that looked as if they would permanently ruin her navy blue skirt. Shaking her head politely, she simply stated "Oh there's no need, I merely came over to introduce myself. Adelaide Goshawk, I don't believe we've formally met Mr. Miller." On autopilot, a hand extended towards the male even as she noted the state of his fingernails and palms. To her credit, nothing showed on the witch's porcelain face - a gift from the world of business dealings with less than desirable people. "I do hope you're settling in well. I'm told you have an orientation program coming up in the next day or so?"

In fact, she knew no such thing, but it was an easy way to start the conversion. Well within the realm of professional courtesy while implying she had more knowledge of his position than he did at the moment. "If you need anything, we have an excellent HR division that is always happy to help."

His own hazel eyes watched the witch survey the room. As her face went to the chair and remained placid, to the clear dismissal of the invitation. Hell, she’d be one to partner in a poker tournament. Game recognized game, and it was clear this woman played quite a few, and if he had to guess…..was used to winning. At the expression of her name, and the extension of her hand, he slowly pushed off from the wall, reaching his own out to take hers. His hand was riddled with white streaks that showed scars uncounted. Callused hands gripped that of hers, though he attempted to be as gentle as he could, it was difficult not to give a firm handshake out of habit.

“Bocephus Theodore Miller, Ma’am” He would say, still a little muffled with the cigar gently smoking. “You can call me Bo.” He would follow up, not typically using his full name. These foreign folks often thought his name was funny, though with names like Goshawk, he wasn’t sure what footing these people had. The different languages, the surnames half the time it was as if he was talking with peanut butter in his mouth. Still, it was something he was slowly getting used to. His trip that had just ended to finish clearing up his parents farm had reminded him how simple names could be……….though those fields were oceans away now.

“Start of next week actually ma’am” he would say in response to her question, removing the cigar and leaning it in the ashtray, letting it rest for a moment. “Mighty kind of you, but I try to stay out of HR best I can. Been called there once or twice.” His grin would be in a crooked half smile, as he gave a wink. He was all for shooting shit, even if these higher ups thought it as politicin. “Meetin with the boys and gals this week, settin the team right up. End o week shuld havim raring to sniff out some bad guys…..as long as I survive the paper work I suppose.” He would say still smiling, but gesturing to the disaster of stationary. The most prominent piece an envelope spilled open, a number of resume’s with attached portraits revealed. His first order was to create his task force, he may have a title of head of department on his business cards, (something they assured would be in by next Monday, which was supposed to be last Monday) but he knew better than that. He was head of a small team, and that was that, which settled with him finer than sweet tea.

“Now surely I din’t get such a visit for just a welcoming? How may I be of assistance ma’am?” He would ask. He doubted she cared for all the detail, but if she wanted to play the politcin game he would fill it with details. Round here they thought of it as politics, where he came from it was called BSing, a skill he picked up on, and was clapped on the ear several times by granny for being a little too good with it.​

Adelaide may have been an intelligent student at school, an audacious one in college and downright exemplary at university but the most important lesson she had learned had not been from an educational institute. Life had taught her not to judge people by their appearances and by all appearances, Bocephus Theodore Miller seemed more suited to the back room of the Hog's Head then leading a department in the Ministry. He was American so he must have done something significant that allowed him to undermine the current political climate and travel restrictions between the US and the rest of the world. Yes, Clara might learn a thing or two here after all.

"Bocephus," she compromised, making it clear she was not going to use his abbreviated moniker. It would imply more casualness than she was willing to allow at this point. "Actually it was I who hoped to be of some assistance to you," she clarified, a polite smile on ehr face as she surveyed the paperwork that was troubling him so. The cowboy had made her task easy for her, giving the redhead a smooth point from which she could segue into her suggestion.

"Maybe you don't have to comb through all those resumes quite yet. I understand there is a budget in your department - albeit a tiny one - for a personal assistant. And I would very much like to recommend an industrious young witch for the job." The woman waited, gouging his expression for a reaction before she carried on.

"Clara Goldstein, her file's already with both HR and Internal Affairs. She interned at the Minister's office over the summer and Harvey found her quite intelligent as well as productive. We think she would do well under your tutelage."

At her refusal to use his preferred name Bo merely kept his smile, and popped the cigar back in his mouth, the ashes tumbling back to the tray. For all her words of doing him a favor, he couldn’t help but notice it was the complete opposite. She might be a fine peddler of snake oil, and he might even buy a bottle for favor, but he had no misconceptions of the vinegar he would be drinkin.

“Well I don’t know ma’am. Small budget is the size of it, I’d be more apt to pad the wallet with some poker winnings.” He’d roll the cigar back and forth as though he was contemplating. His eyes staring into hers, he didn’t always give off the impression of an intelligent man, and he preferred it that way. Hell sometimes he even saw it to be the truth of the matter. “Not sure about tutalegin nobody, it I could probably learn um a thing or two.”

At that he would resume his lean, chewing some as he considered. “What makes y’all thing this is the place fer her any how?” His question was more of a probe. He hasn’t asked for an assistant, hell he has stocked up on ball point pens from the restaurants after paying his bill so he wouldn’t have to even ask for them. Now he was being approached with an offerin question was why. Already in the system, maybe it was just easy for them, maybe this gal wanted a coon in every cupboard to watch out, who knew.

Bo knew he’d mostly likely take her, little reason not to, but still.....he wasn’t done dancing with the lady of the house just yet.

The man's New World charm was growing old fast and Adelaide would soon have to put more effort into maintaining her polite smile. Whether he did it on purpose or if it was a habit he'd never outgrown, Adelaide couldn't say, but either way it was grating on the First Lady's nerves.

"I'm sure Miss Goldstien's work with this department will be an educational experience for all involved," she commented, political correctness perfectly in place. Though the witch detected a slight downplaying of his ability, which would make her reassess Bocephus Miller in a new light later on.

"What can I say, Harvey and I like retaining talent where we see it. I'm sure the Minister approved of your position here with similar just cause. Giving a young lady the opportunity to prove herself is hardly a bad decision, especially one who's worked here before and would not need training from scratch."

Of course, the set up of this department was hardly conventional, it might even throw the Ravenclaw off her bearings at first. But that didn't need mentioning right now. "She's an excellent student, Head Girl actually. And her work ethic supersedes..." the witch paused, eyeing his messy desk and then his messy person. "A lot of people here."

What Adelaide left out was that this department was just small enough for any of the young witch's errors to go unnoticed. Truthfully, Clara Goldstien could intern or part time in any department, but MLE was generally too prolific. Anywhere outside MLE would be next to negligible on the girl's resume.

So Adelaide had to find a position that was technically under the umbrella of Law Enforcement but sectioned off enough that she could make mistake after mistake without it permanently affecting her chances at a good future.

"I could have her file delivered to you by the end of the day for perusal," she offered.

His smile never faltered, and just like facing a predator his eyes lingered in her own, even as she looked him up and down. This was the most she had spoken since she entered the room, which to him meant he was winning the hand. “Well bookworms are one thing; I suppose I can learn her how other things are done as well.” He would say taking a deep breath afterwards causing the tip of the cigar to flair and a puff of smoke to rise.

At the mention of having her send the file, he resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. These people were more concerned with paper than people it would see. “ Ahh ma’am I don’t reckon that’ll be necessary. Side’s I’d rather just meet her in the person. She comin this high recommended, No harm in givin her a shot.” If there was one thing he did not care to do it was read one more file on one more person he was supposed to hire. Getting his task force together was already proving to be enough of a headache.

“You don’t check the horse by the pedigree though; you look it in the mouth. Send her my way at your earliest convenience” He would finish, still watching the first lady. “Gotta make sure she ain’t soft after all” He would give a wink at this. In the end it didn’t matter if she was some priss or not, he’d find some way to make use, and besides if she was as useless as a honey bee in an artificial flower shop, then he’d ask for more money to make up for the waste. Really no downside.

“Any way I can return the favor?” he would pose. He still felt as though he was the one doing the favor, but it didn’t hurt to let her think he wasn’t on that notion. His eyes flicked up and took note of the time. He had some meeting after 3, and was hoping to get out of dodge by 5. If his office was a mess, his new apartment was even worst off. He had taken something in Hogsmeade, where he could apparate too. It seemed to have more room to stretch his legs after all. As she responded, he would pick up a few more things and shuffle papers, placing a picture of a blue tick hound dog on his desk. Only family he had in the country at the moment. ​

"I'm sure your wisdom would be invaluable to the young lady," Adelaide confirmed politely, hoping her prized student was up to the task she would soon be entrusted with. There was no question of Miss Goldstien being turned down, not with the First Lady's firm recommendation, now the candidate merely had to prove that she was worth it.

"HR will be in touch, confirming your appointment dates,' the redhead concluding when Bocephus agreed to give her an interview. "We'll see if she can drop by before the tart of term and have a word with yourself." Thankfully, that concluded her business in this dingy office, and to symbolism so, she reached out to shake his hand once more.

"Well Bocephus, it was a pleasure meeting you, and if we can think of something you might assist us with in future, I'm sure someone will let you know." As she offered to shake her hand again, Adelaide's eyes grazed his form once mere, this time noticing the clear budge under his jacket to the left. His reciprocating handshake had shifted the fabric, revealing the shiny metal of what could only be a firearm on the man's person.

Another thing for her to note quietly, and not comment on. Once the pleasantries were over, she walked out of the room, glad to finally be away from the chimney now styling himself as Head of Intoxicating Magical Substances.

“I certainly look forward to it ma’am”. He would say in return to her exit strategy. Reaching out and shaking her hand once more he would watch her go. Not bad, but he’d seen porcupines he’d rather make a move on. Some things in life just weren’t worth the trouble.

As she walked away he shifted himself around the desk contemplating his diet as he did so and closed the door. Over he next couple minutes he brought the office into some form of order, which misty meant stacking things in like piles and throwing some items away. Snubbing our the cigar he’d leave it in the ash tray for later. Placing the hat back in his head, he’d exit the office and walk with a cowboy jaunt towards the exit.

His eyes watched all the people moving by, and the owls over head. What a strange place this was. One he’d have to get used to he supposed. Tipping his hat to one of the passing witches and winking he’d reflect it wasn’t all bad, just different.