The Talk [Nikolai]

Pulling aside a curtain, Andrei looked out onto the darkening street outside his London home. The street lights had just come on, Mrs. Sanford was out walking her dog, and it looked like the Ziers were having yet another house party, but no Nikolai. Admittedly, the younger Kessler boy had no business being home for another hour or so, though it did not stop his father from checking back constantly—he never got this nervous, not even before his largest lectures.

Thankfully, there was no one else home to see the man's less-than-composed state. Helen was out with her culinary school friends on something they called 'Wine Night', while Marie, who had recently convinced herself that she needed to lose weight, was at the gym. This left the aging professor all by his lonesome, which normally he would have enjoyed by translating some of the latest archeological texts or working on a text of his own—you know, fun, relaxing things like that.

Alas, he found himself able to do neither of these things.

Allowing the curtain to fall back into place, the man returned to the living room where he seemed to be spending a majority of his time of late. Settling into his favored armchair, he kicked up his feet on the ottoman and retrieved the book he'd borrowed from Helen some time ago. Typically, he wouldn't read a book featuring a love triangle between a werewolf, a vampire, and a human, but after the first chapter he found himself sucked in. And, despite the jabs and jeers it drew from both his wife and his daughter, he continued to read it whenever he had the chance. Andrei had always been a sucker for a decently written story and it was a great way to pass the time as he waited for his son to return. At the very least, it kept him from obsessively checking the front door every five minutes.

What kind of a name was Bella anyway?

Marking his page, pushing his glasses back up his nose, and taking a breath, Andrei reluctantly pushed himself up from his seat. Nikolai could not have come home at a worse time; his voice called the professor back from Port Angles where Bella had nearly met her end and transported him back to the unpleasant task at hand. Perhaps that was why he enjoyed books like this, they allowed one to escape reality if only for a moment.

"I was thinking of ordering takeaway," Andrei said, wandering into the dining room with book in hand. "Your mom and sister are out for the night and I'm not feeling up to cooking."

Placing his book down, he removed his son's bag from the table and placed it on the ground. For whatever reason, Marie disliked anything unnecessary being on the table and, though she was not here, her husband made it a habit to clear anything off before she had the chance to get herself into a tizzy over it. Truthfully, Andrei wasn't too sure why it so concerned her—tables were made for holding things he figured, but if it made her happy then that was reason enough for him.

"So," he huffed, taking a seat across from his son. "How was work?"

Marie, who had given Helen a similar talk some years ago, had counseled that he not jump right into the whole relationship topic right away. It was better to work up to it first, she said. So, work up to it he would and hopefully it wouldn't end in too much of an awkward silence. He liked to think that Nikolai was a reasonable enough kid and would see the need for such a conversation. But, then again, he was also a teenager...

"Chinese it is," the man confirmed, pulling out his rarely used phone and struggling through the process Helen had shown him countless times. First the passcode, then swipe to the left...no the right, find the app, log in, and, finally, place the order. Honestly, the whole process felt much more complicated than it needed to be. It would have been so much easier to have called up the restaurant and ordered but, alas, times were changing and the eldest Kessler would be damned if he was left behind by a technological revolution just because he didn't like it.

"And Twilight's actually a decent story," Andrei chided, looking up from his phone. Criticism of other family members in the Kessler household was perfectly acceptable, if not encouraged. However, both Andrei and Marie were sticklers for perspective and liked to think they had raised their children with the same inclination. Or, rather, they hoped they had. "Don't knock it till you've read it yourself."

Returning his attention to the phone, he clicked through a few restaurants while nodding along with his son's account of his day. Half listening and half trying not to lose his wits to a poorly designed app, the eldest Kessler kept his opinions about Nikolai's extracurricular activities at work to himself. On one hand, it was heartening to hear the boy was keeping up with his studies but, on the other, it was worrying to hear he was not, well, working at work. It wasn't worth a lecture and the subsequent argument that would follow, he'd learned that well the first time around with Helen.

"I just ordered it," he gestured to his phone before putting it back in his pocket. "I think...?"

"So," Andrei's tone softened as he continued to build toward the subject of relationships. "About the Cup, I know we were planning on staying in the main camp but Adri offered to put us up at her estate. You remember her right? She used to watch you and Helen when you were younger back in Egypt."

Adriana Ricci, acquirer of artifacts for the rich and famous, had been a family friend since the Kessler couple met her on one of her assignments in Cairo. Initially, Andrei and Adri—as she preferred to be called by her friends—were at odds as they were both working to acquire the same ancient manuscript, Andrei for a museum and Adri for some rich German. After a strange series of events, the pair found themselves playing a chess game for the manuscript which, after a back and forth game, Andrei prevailed in, winning both the manuscript and Adri's friendship. Since then, from time to time, she would tip the professor off to the location of a few of the rarer artifacts, while Andrei ceded the more common ones he found to her—nine times out of ten Adri's clients couldn't tell the difference between trash and treasure.

"She has a place in Tuscany," Adri had done well for herself with rich patrons the world over. "It's supposed to be rather nice and she has a personal portkey right into the main camp that she's willing to let us use as well."

A pause.

"I know we'd miss some of the festive atmosphere, but it might be fun too. Apparently, she has a pool," he offered a weak smile. "I just didn't want to change plans without running it by you. So, what do you think?"

This was another conversation entirely and, at this point, Andrei knew he was procrastinating. He should have just led with asking about Miss Harrington. And yet, here he was.

Oh well.

Andrei only shrugged at his son's offhanded dismissal of Twilight. He'd been through this same song and dance before with Helen and, though Nikolai would surely deny it, the two siblings were very much alike. Much like any self-respecting Kessler, they stuck to their opinions until provided with enough evidence to the contrary, and when it came to one's likes/dislikes of literature there wasn't much in the way of evidence. It was purely opinion which was, perhaps, for the best; it would, after all, be rather boring if everyone could be swayed into having the same opinions.

"It'll be fun, I promise," Andrei said, trying to counter the boy's less than enthusiastic response to the change in housing arrangements. "And yeah, go ahead and take a shower, dinner should—"

The headmaster sighed to himself; Nikolai had already slipped out of the room and his distant steps could be heard on the stairs. What did the boy expect him to do, turn down Adri's generous offer? Oh well, he'd have to deal with the fallout later, for now, and with the turn of a few pages, he was back in Port Angles where Bella had just escaped death. Or, at least, he was until his phone buzzed, announcing the arrival of food.

Nikolai, if he returned to the kitchen, would be met by the pleasant aroma of Mrs. Wung's Chinese Kitchen. The smell of freshly steamed rice mingled with stir-fried vegetables and orange chicken reminiscent of the meal Andrei and Marie used to share in Hong Kong together on date nights. For his part, the eldest Kessler had already served himself and was poking around with his chopsticks, waiting for his son to return. For, when the boy had served himself and taken a seat, his father would finally broach the subject he had been avoiding all night—it was best to be direct.

"So," he began, his eyes on his son. "How is Miss Harrington?"

Watching his son's less-than-subtle reaction, a slim, knowing smile that all parents seemed to pick up by instinct alone flashed across the older Kessler's face. Andrei's body may have started its decline a bit earlier than he would have liked thanks to his brush with death, but his mind was as sharp as ever, if not more so. Then again, it didn't take too many brain cells to put two and two together.

Children, and teens especially in the man's experience, often forgot—or perhaps didn't understand in some cases—that every single adult around them had once been the same age they were. Adults had seen, done, and felt many of the same things the younger generations did many times over, albeit through a different lens and in a different context but similar nonetheless. The whole thing was funny and, indeed, Andrei found himself unable to suppress a light laugh filtered through his nose.

"Sounds about right, but that's the wrong Harrington, I'm afraid," he said, having composed himself. "I mean the younger one who always seems to have far too much energy, you two seem close. What's she doing with her summer?"

Naturally, the man refrained from adding 'You know, the Harrington half of Hogwarts saw you kiss'. He had already decided that a direct confrontation such as that would only result in Nikolai storming off because it was what he, Andrei, would have done at his age. Yes, this way was much better,; just ease into the subject and then take it from there—he could almost hear Marie's counsel in the back of his mind saying the same thing.

Hopefully, she was right.