Business or pleasure (Andrei Kessler)

A heavy thud permeated the dark and smoky room. Of all the wizard establishments he’d visited since making his residence in this country, this was his favorite. While he had only made it up here a handful of times for different deals, the Hogs Head had quickly become his favorite meeting place for information, and the fact it was near the school and therefore close to the man he sought to meet had only endeared it further to him.

Two empty mugs sat on his table as a third was placed, the other two being swept away. The beer frothed over the side staining the scratches wooden table as it spilled down the glass. Taking the handle in a scared hand, Bocephus Miller took a deep drink finishing off a quarter of the glass. The foam made his beard its new home as he replaced the mug to the table. A belch and whiling his hands On his sides Bo looked around. The bar was almost empty besides a couple of folks who had that regular look about them. For Bo’s part he sat at a two person hightop. Black snakeskin boots, wrangler blue jeans, and a gold colored button up shirt with imprints if nifflers all over them, a Hawaiian shirt made wizard. His typical dusty brown cowboy hat sat on the table. His hair was tied back into a rough pony tail, his beard as wild and unkempt as a rabid coyote.

He found himself in the bar to meet with a teacher of some sort. Or was he in charge of the whole damn school, Bo couldn’t remember. Either way he’d been the expert in tuned when he’d asked around. His first and foremost weapon was in the shop with a goblin artificer, next was to look into what this man could possibly do for him. Things where getting hairier and hairier as the fish got bigger he was realing in, and he hadn’t even gone after the leviathan yet.

He’d come to this country with very little. Leaving behind the majority of his own equipment and items back home. He’d slowly been collecting it as he made this place his real home, even being punctuated with buying his own farm. That had all been part of the plan, assimilate slowly. Everything was meant to be built here, and as this thought occurred to him his head began to hurt as it always did when he started thinking to hard about why he was here. Quickly he got images of wanting to work for the ministry, out his military training to good use, etc etc, almost like he was performing a job interview in his mind. One of the side effects of the precautions he took to make sure his mission could never be compromised.

He didn’t mind the Brits, they were an alright people. They weren’t salt of the earth, but maybe a little pepper. Their leadership though.....they were the problem, and they didn’t know the direction they needed to go. Even though the thoughts couldn’t come to him now, as they safely swirled beneath the hogs, he still was left with the American pride of keeping the wizarding worlds secret. They were looser here, and all it could cause is problems. Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a cigar and a brass lighter. Flicking it a couple times he got the end to ignite. Taking a puff he’d grab his wand and run it over the glass, it would begin to frost as he waited for his meeting.

Andrei Kessler's days as of late were bookended by meetings with even more meetings in between. Today, in particular, began with a finance meeting that revealed the devil's pact the headmistress before him made to secure the school's financial wellbeing—there were too many stakeholders now. Said meeting bled into a meeting about exchange students, which only ended thanks to a late lunch break where Andrei was united with his tuna sandwich. Unfortunately, he found his lunch break cut short by an impromptu board of directors meeting wherein they discussed the latest tuition numbers and a possible castle addition.

Who knew people cared so much about the dimensions of one insignificant turret?

Now, with night's veil falling across the land, Andrei made his way to his last meeting of the day. Unlike the others, this meeting was set to take place off of school grounds, at the Hog's Head to be exact. In a way, it was nice to be walking away from the dimly lit castle behind him but, at the same time, it felt as if he was leaving work undone. This feeling was, of course, because he was leaving work undone. After all, this last meeting had come up rather unexpectedly.

One did not, however, turn down a ministry request.

Pulling open the heavy oaken door and stepping into the aforementioned establishment, Andrei found himself more than a bit out of place in the poorly lit bar. Sporting fine robes of Ravenclaw blue, frameless glasses, and a well-shaved face, he did not look like the bar's normal clientele at this time in the evening. Nevertheless, he took long confident strides through the main chamber until he spied the ridiculous cowboy hat he had been told to look for—it really was a strange piece of attire for a wizard, but Andrei certainly wasn't one to judge when it came to the latest fashions.

"Mr. Miller, I presume," the older man said, extending his hand across the table as he took a seat. "Andrei Kessler, it's a pleasure."

The man across from him was not quite what the headmaster expected when he received a missive from the ministry. No, he never quite pictured the esteemed ministry of magic allowing their employees to smoke on the job. Indeed, it felt as if he were meeting with a big game hunter rather than a government employee.

Strange.

“How ya doin partner.” Bo would say standing, and jostling the stool he had been sitting on. His scarred and callused hand met Andrei’s and gripped it hard, shaking exuberantly. “I’m much obliged you made yer way down here. They tell me yer the best, and my man that’s what I need. Get this man a drink!” He wouldn’t miss a beat going from talking to Andrei to waving at the disgruntled bartender. “Its all on me sir, not even meanin them ministry penny pinchers. My personal gratitude fer all this.” He would wave at the only other stool and resume his seat.

He’d fetch his wand and replace it by his hip. If Andrei cared to looked he’d see a worn weather holster, with an addition on the top for a wand to fit in securely. Bo’s own mug was iced over and he’d take a drink as the bartender came by and got whatever Andrei wanted.

“Tell me about yerself. If I can fetch ya to work with me, well might as well be familiar. Ain’t no reason can’t have a good time.” He’d say looking at the man. His blue robes, did indeed put him at odds with the patrons, though maybe not as much as his own attire always put him at odds amongst wizard folk. Reaching into his back pocket he’d lay out a crumbled Manila folder that had a couple pieces of parchments in it. It was simply labeled with “Ideas”. Scratchy write across it.

As Andrei talked Bo would pull out a second cigar. “Can I tempt ye?” He’d ask in the middle of Andrei talking. “Best one can get, Cuban.” He’d day running it underneath his nose taking in the tobacco smell as he smoked his own.

The contrast between the two hands was stark; Andrei's was soft and unsullied, while Mr. Miller's was rugged and strewn with scar tissue. Both certainly spoke to the divergent paths each man had taken in their lives. Andrei, however, did not have time to dwell on what it might say about the man across from him, for he had to tactfully refuse any alcohol offered to him.

"You're too kind, Mr. Miller," he replied before turning his attention to the bartender. "I'll have a seltzer water, please."

The bartender grumbled a response before trodding off to get the headmaster his beverage and Andrei turned back to his generous host for the evening. Mr. Miller certainly was a character to behold; the long hair told of a man less concerned for his appearance and the peculiar wand holster suggested a man of action. Whatever the case, he was certainly not the type of person the aging Andrei was used to interacting on a daily basis, it was refreshing.

"There's not much to tell, I'm afraid," Andrei started—he was never one to boast of his own accolades. "I teach ancient runes up at Hogwarts where I'm also the headmaster. I suppose I've been in the field all my life and some might even call me decently accomplished."

He shrugged. If Mr. Miller had done his research, he would know the headmaster was being more than modest considering his vast archeological resume and unparalleled academic work in the field of ancient runes. Andrei had always been a man who let his work do all the talking for him, rather than aggressively promoting it himself.

"I'll pass, thank you though," he said, declining Mr. Miller's kind offer of a cigar. "That said, you mentioned in your letter you might have a job for me. I'm always willing to help the ministry in any capacity, so how can I help you?"

Giving a half nod to the folder the man had produced from his back pocket, Andrei took a sip of the seltzer that had arrived while he was talking. Truth be told, the again man lived for a challenge and he was curious to see what a ministry employee might want from him. Surely it would be something interesting or, rather, he hoped it would be.

Some might have thought that Bo would be the man to hound others, force them to have a drink, or partake in the good time. On the contrary, he couldn’t care less what others did, but was focused on his own. Not mentioning the choice of drink and merely shrugging replacing the cigar he’d finish listening to the man.

Watching the older man, Bo analyzed him the same way he was being looked up. He had felt his hands, and he watched the modesty, despite the file he’d read in him. Mentioning his job as teacher secondary to being headmaster. This was the guy he wanted. Someone who wasn’t out there to put their name in the news, but simply wanted to work. Now he just needed the man’s pride in his job to reflect his humbleness and he’d be in business.

“Sure as shit do.” Bo would say grabbing a couple pretzels from the table before scarfing them down. “Two jobs in one really. I done read yer file, and I think your humbler than a support beam not talkin bout yourself and that’s all fine, cause I think yer my man.” Flipping open the file he would have several documents outlining some of the minor protection charms, counter hexes, etc that the ministry used as standard issue for their officers. All directly from the Auror office his gal pal in HR had been find enough to share.

As he gave Andrei a second to look over the documents and get a feeling for the standard issue, Bo would blow out a couple smoke rings. He wasn’t good at it yet, but he’d beat that sum bitch Alec at his own game soon enough. Just as Andrei looked as though he was about to speak the grumbling bartender would return and put down two massive bowls of stew. The dark brown broth had what was likely vegetables in it, and what in all likely good was meat from a four legged mammal.

“I went ahead and ordered for ya. Can’t have a dinner meetin without dinner.” He’d say as he grabbed his utensil and took a bite. “Now I know yer can do better than all that if you are who the papers tell me you are.” Bo would say between bites. “What I’m lookin fer is that...”. He’d say pointing his spoon at the document. “Cept better. Now I ain’t no auror, but I’m fightin people with nothin to loose an usual they’ve taken a bit of somethin to make um even more dangrous”. Reaching down he’d pull up a bag and reach impossibly far into it, pulling out a vest that was bigger than the bag itself. If Andrei was familiar with Muggle law enforcement he’d notice it to be a bullet proof vest.

“Right now I want two things. I want this to keep my insides from comin out, an I want this thing from ever leavin my hand unless Ima choosing it.” He would say first pointing at the vest, and then reaching down to his hip. He’d unholster his fire arm from underneath his option, and agin Andrei if familiar with muggles would recognize the fire arm. “This babies a family treasure, an I still use it when I need it. You’ll understand I don’t want nobody messing with it.” He would say. The gun in total being about 14 inches long with an 8inch barrel it was bigger than most wands. “Colt Dragoon revolved. Cooler than a hog in the mud wouldn’t ya say?”

Andrei's nose wrinkled at the man's strange turn of phrase. Bo Miller certainly lacked a British sensibility and, yet, it was oddly endearing. Or rather it was, the more the headmaster considered it, equal measures endearing and refreshing. After all, the professor spent his days with people who were much the same in spite of—or, indeed, perhaps because of—the great lengths they went to be different, funny how that seemed to worked.

Nonetheless, the professor readily took the file Bo passed to him and read them over. There wasn't anything groundbreaking with these spells. In fact, the man was more than a bit disappointed if this was all the Ministry used on a daily basis. Then again, it was the government and the British government at that; they were well known for their distinct lack of creativity. If they only wanted to deal in mundane and utilitarian magic, then that was their call.

"Ah, thank you," Andrei set aside the folder as the barkeep dropped a bowl of stew in front of him. Not having eaten since lunch, the man probably would have eaten whatever was put in front of him. The stew, however, actually smelled good and, after taking an exploratory slurp, had a taste to match. Perhaps he would bring Marie here at some point, she did have a weakness for stews.

"Well," Andrei wiped the stew from his lips before continuing. "The vest won't be too difficult. It will, however, be a bit heavier when I'm done."

He gave it an experimental heft, it was already pretty heavy.

"I'm not an expert in modern Muggle armor, but I suspect I'll have to line the inside with silver of some purity or another," The cigar smoking man was in for a bit of a lecture whether he bargained for one or not. "I could try a foil, but it's not all that reliable in the long term as it'll inevitably wear out or tear when faced with physical stressors. When one's working with these types of things I can only imagine that you'd air on the side of caution, no?"

The question was clearly rhetorical because Andrei didn't miss a beat in continuing.

"As for that thing," he gestured to the gun. "I'm afraid to get the desired effects I'll have to 'mess with it'. An accio binding is no simple feat. It will require me to etch the runes into the weapon itself and into the holster to which I'll probably have to affix a metal plate of some sort, once again probably silver. You also might find that the rune magic doesn't always agree with Muggle technology and there might be unforeseen consequences."

He paused taking a spoonful of stew.

"Magic is weird that way I suppose," the older man shrugged. "Especially with that accio binding, the gun might end up misfiring once in a blue moon. That said, I can definitely make it work if you give a month or so."

And here the headmaster stopped. In reality, he could finish everything in maybe a week or so if that was all he did. Unfortunately for Bo, however, the professor had a family to look after and a job to see to. He couldn't very well ignore his other responsibilities in favor of something that amounted to a side job at best and a complete waste of time at worst.

“Well ain’t that sure as shit.” Bo would say at Andrei’s final words on No Maj and magic not working together. Just another reason the ole red white and blue had it right politically speakin. Nature done did the decision. “I’d still give it a try, that thing is all gunpowder and led, ain’t no fancy shit to mess up so I got a fealin it’ll take just fine if you as good as everyone says.” Bo would say picking up the large handgun. Flicking it forward he would release the barrel before flicking it back in. With a spin the gun would find itself back in the holster with a speed at disagreement with the large man holding it.

As Andrei had spoken Bo had continued to eat, wolfing down the entire bowl before getting a second. His cigar running to the end of its life. “Ain’t worries about weight. In the desert I had packs three times that size holding a rifle, and still expected to watch while I shit. Silver’ll do just fine.” He’d lift the vest up and drop it back down into the bag where it somehow found it’s way home.

“A month....” Bo would say rubbing his hand through his beard as though he was thinking. His eyes stared at the older man, wondering how much negotiation was able to move that number down. “That’s probably fair........I’m lookin for the best, I ain’t the government picking low bidders.” He’d say resigning himself and going back to his second bowl. He’d decided it wasn’t worth it. He had time, this wasn’t a must and if there was more projects in the future maybe he’d push his luck then. Reaching down he’d draw his gun again, a speed that outclassed most in the professional duels drawing a wand. Once again he flicked it forward, this time letting the large shells fall out into the table leaving the gun empty. Dropping it into the bag as well, He next removed his holster form his belt, laying his wand on the table before dropping it as well.

With a kick he moved the bag towards Andrei to rest at the man’s feet. “I mean I’m pretty willin. Last question is the price. Any numbers in mind? I also do barterin, I can do a favor, or sell you a horse. Little ones always like horses.” He’d say with a grin. He’d finish his drink, the second bowl empty. And a rapping of knuckles on the table. The bartender brought over two small shot glasses of fire whisky. “The only way to seal a deal, this one I insist.” He would say pushing one over and smiling.