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Malcolm Gallagher

Democratie & Magie
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Malcolm Gallagher last won the day on June 13

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About Malcolm Gallagher

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  1. [1838/1839] We watch the stars

    “Kan wel,” bood Mal flexibel aan, want natuurlijk kon er even iemand bij Phoenix langsgaan. “Het is heus geen moeite en het zou nog best even kunnen duren.” Want aangezien ze de overvallers nu nog niet hadden gevonden leek het waarschijnlijk dat die het een of andere verstopholletje hadden waarvan de Schouwers niet afwisten. Het betekende ook dat voornoemd verstopholletje door enige anti opsporingsspreuken werd beschermd of dat er om de een of andere reden geen opsporingsspreuken mogelijk waren. En dan zou dit neerkomen op traditioneel speurwerk en dat kostte tijd, koffie en pizza of iets dergelijks op de rekening van het ministerie terwijl schouwers tot veel te laat doorwerkten. En nee, hij dacht er op dit moment nog niet aan dat Phoenix misschien iets wilde verbergen. Hij verdacht niet iedereen meteen! Als ie nu weer weigerde misschien. Na twee keer. Anders was je ook geen knip voor de neus waard als Schouwer. Iets van inherente paranoia moest er wel in zitten, hoor. “Het gebeurt wel eens,” knikte hij. “Dus we weten wat we doen.” Ook al is het in de individuele gevallen niet per se leuk. “Wil je anders zo even naar mijn huis? Safehouse kan ook, ze regelen wel wat... maar in dat van mij weet ook niemand je te vinden.” Want het stond leeg, Mal woonde doorgaans nog bij zijn ouders. Maar het was wel keurig gemeubileerd. “We kunnen nog wel wat spreuken oefenen?” Hij lachte. “Of je mag me weer uithoren. Oefen je alsnog.”
  2. [1838/1839] We watch the stars

    Ja, Phoenix, dat de Schouwers erop stonden dat je even bleef rondhangen kon je ze eigenlijk ook echt niet kwalijk nemen. Het was zo vervelend, zie je, als een ooggetuige het loodje legde door de criminelen waarvan hij ooggetuige was geweest. Werd een lastige bewijslast, en je had dat dan toch alleszins kunnen zien aankomen en dat was ook altijd wat wrang. Bovendien was het maar weer papierwerk. Dus, Phoenix, kortom: blijf maar lekker zitten. En ja, na de debrief kwam Malcolm dus naar hem toe met een kopje chocolade. Het was hem in de bank eigenlijk niet opgevallen dat hij die jongeman op de grond ergens van kende, daar was hij te druk bezig geweest met ervoor zorgen dat een bankmanager die wat bot was geweest tegen de overvallers niet doodbloedde enzo, maar inmiddels nu dat was gelukt, op het kantoor en met een schoon shirt aan had hij de connectie wel gelegd en had hij zijn hand opgestoken voor het op Phoenix passen totdat de beste mensen achter de tralies waren opgeborgen. Wat? Hij had hem maar een keer gesproken, maar toen best gemogen en sowieso was opsporing zelf niet direct zijn talent. Zijn talent was even afwachten en van dit moment gebruik maken om wat minder betrouwbare transacties van de bank onder de loep te nemen. Allemaal voor het geval dat het er iets mee te maken had, zie je. Je kon niet voorzichtig genoeg zijn. “Oh, nee, joh. Papierwerk,” glimlachte hij daarom vrolijk naar Phoenix. “Jouw avond is meer in de soep gelopen, vermoed ik. Had jij plannen?” Hij gaf hem het kopje. “Ze zullen ze snel genoeg vinden hoor. En anders kan ik altijd even iets op laten halen bij je thuis.”
  3. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Alright, so it wasn’t non-verbal and it wasn’t all too impressive, but there were ropes around him, so he supposed it was a good start. He certainly need not have been worried about choking hazards, that was clear. “Not bad!” he said with a broad smile, while shrugging a rope into a slightly more comfortable position around him, something he obviously should not be able to do. “Try it non-verbally next time. It’s surprising, but it seems to strengthen the focus of the spell.” Because Mal had always been interested in why non-verbal spells were necessary, apart from the clear advantages in a duel, and so he usually asked that question and now he had that knowledge to pass on. “But you’re nearly there. With a couple more tries, I am sure you’ll find something that at least slows them down. And that’s the most important thing, right.” For Phoenix’s circumstances. There would be some sort of aid or security in a psychiatrists’ office, right? Right? “How are we doing for time?”
  4. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    “Yeah, really, it’s no problem,” Mal said with a smile. “I don’t intend to drop my wand and there’s a trick, anyway – if you try to strangle me by accident, I’ll show you.” He grinned broadly. Some part of him wondered why he was suggesting this, whether he was so bored from the half days at work and the physical therapy that he was now looking for danger in the most unlikely places, even from friendly-faced starting psychologists. It was probably one of those things a psychologist could over-analyse if you wanted them to, if you gave them the chance. Instead, they were doing this. Maybe he was just trying to get out of having to let Phoenix do his job while still being able to tell himself convincingly that he was helping him out. “Come on, I’ll stand still, and you just aim right at me. Some people can do this without a wand, but I’ve never gotten the hang of that. I think it’s something you learn early on. And then quietly think it, feel your mind extend to capture the goal. Me.”
  5. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Alright. No actual conversation. Mal found it easy enough to switch, especially because that was the moment the Impedimenta hit him and he had some time to reflect upon it. And decide upon his next course of action, which would most assuredly involve looking up anything he could find about Phoenix and his past and any and all influences that might have made him skittish. Having decided on that, he could do without for now. “That was pretty good,” he affirmed with a smile, when once he was again unfrozen. “You don’t have to shout, though. That’s all energy that doesn’t go into the spell necessarily, you know. Like a haircut... if it looks fancy, it could probably be done quicker and quieter and with much less hair falling everywhere.” He chuckled. In case you were wondering: the haircut you needed after nearly two years in a coma was an experience that did not need repeating. “Right, Restringo...” He certainly wasn’t going to ropestring a possible abuse victim who wasn’t attacking him. Not even for practice, not even with consent and not even for fun. That was the kind of thing that could get you up for ethics review and even worse, it would make the Hufflepuff in him feel really really bad. Thus, he jinxed a bookstand on the desk to move and then using Restringo tied it up at every corner. “Like that. But pretty calmly, if you’re panicked, you’ll make it too restrictive.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You can do it on me. I don’t mind. Give it a try.”
  6. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    As had been certainly planned, Malcolm missed Phoenix completely. Somewhat less planned, Phoenix missed completely too, and as a matter of fact did not even get his wand up or a spell out in time. Nevertheless, Mal laughed merrily, in part to deflate some of the tension, in part because truth be told, he thought this kind of thing was fun. Much more fun than therapy. Although he must admit that he hadn’t meant to startle Phoenix at all. Definitely not to the degree of wide eyed horror which he’d momentarily seen within him and which to Mal, the expert in human trafficking cases, suggested prior history of less than good things. He was concerned immediately. “Sorry,” he said with a kind smile. “I didn’t mean to spook you. Honestly, I’m not trying to be the next Auror to make your day more difficult.” But look at that, apparently it was a talent. Of course it was. It was his job, and a job he had a talent for. Because though he nodded to Phoenix when he suggested trying again, he waited for a moment, unsure if he really wanted to terrify the young man a second time. He’d have to learn these kinds of spells, Mal was happy to help him, but... “Are you alright? Did something... happen, to make you scared?” Are you safe, is someone hurting you, point me at them so that I may gently bash them against a wall until they go to jail. Oh yes. Aurors ruined everyone’s day.
  7. [1839] 15+ I feel a little bit funny

    Mal was lichtelijk verbaasd geweest om Jake’s uitnodiging te ontvangen. Ten eerste omdat hij nog reageerde met verbazing op de meeste van zijn kennissen en huidige gebeurtenissen in het leven – hij was er een tijdje uit geweest en het grappige was dat je het dus gewoon oprecht kon verleren – en ten tweede omdat hij zijn oude afdelingsgenoot ietwat uit het oog verloren was over de tijd, en niet alleen zijn afwezige tijd. Bovendien, sinds wanneer vierde Chadwick zijn verjaardag? Hij kon zich hoogstens herinneren dat hij soms misschien het eerste Boterbiertje voor hem had gekocht ter gelegenheid. Mal, uit een huis met drie jongere kinderen waar verjaardagen een heilig goed waren voor iedereen, zijn ouders overigens ook, had zich niet gerealiseerd dat dat optioneel was tot hij op Zweinstein kwam en toen had hij die discrepantie eigenlijk wel weer prettig gevonden. Een beetje er een dingetje van maken deed hij graag voor de ukjes, maar voor zichzelf op de zeer volwassen leeftijd van elf had hij het al niet meer per se nodig gevonden. Ahem. Nu echter was hij wel gekomen – hij wilde iedereen wel weer eens zien – en met een cadeautje, mogelijk een beetje een standaard cadeautje maar het ging om de gedachte, twee goede flessen elfenwijn, thee en noten. De Schouwervriendelijke versie van ‘heb een fijne avond’, met andere woorden. Dat cadeautje zette hij maar op het aquarium, dat daarvoor de bestemde plek leek, en hij zwaaide naar Jake, kwam hem en zijn gesprekspartner groeten. “Hey. Alles goed?” Heb je alle spullen voor je effecten legaal verkregen? Ah, er was geen baan zo funest voor jeugdvriendschappen. Mal zette de knop maar gewoon af. “Hoi, ik ben Mal – ik ken Jake van Zweinstein,” stelde hij zich aan de... kleurige... jongeman voor. “Leuk huis, zeg! Zal ik zo nog even naar de deurbel kijken?” Na een stukje taart, natuurlijk.
  8. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Ah yes. What made people tick. “Tons of ways to help someone, of course,” Mal happily admitted. He was not so perturbed that the other had been in Slytherin, as might perhaps have been expected. The Houses did not customarily have many friendships between them. It had something to do with most Slytherins thinking that most Hufflepuffs were stupid, tiresome, naive, or easy victims. But Malcolm had never been very bothered by that. He’d never been an easy victim, and he enjoyed being naive. If you attacked him for a joke, he’d probably take you out laughing. It was all good fun, wasn’t it? “Just listening probably often does a lot of good for a person. They’re rarely very lucky, if they’ve ended up with you.” He had some experience with that, all job-related, with the girls and boys and creatures that would go on to find their solace with Phoenix and his jar of pills, and they tended to need someone to listen, someone to be quiet, someone to be safe. He moved away some of the furniture and grinned. “No time like the present, is there? And yeah, I use them quite a bit. For about half of all arrests - it’s slightly less aggressive than just knocking someone out and you tend to still need information to boot. Unconscious people aren’t so chatty.” He ran a hand through his hair and took off his glasses. “Restringo’s best done non-verbally, I’ll show you that one later, but in the meantime, why don’t you try an Impedimenta. And for effect...” He got up out of his chair and lunged at Phoenix. What? Impedimenta wouldn’t work on him sitting in his chair. And he was aiming to miss, so if the therapist to be couldn’t manage, there would be no harm done whatsoever.
  9. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    It was true, and Mal would happily cop to it, that Aurors in general liked to maintain as much of a bubble around their minds as they did around their bodies, perhaps sometimes even more - scuffles and handshakes were a part of the job, right, but letting people see your innermost self was nowhere in the description you signed up for. The ways in which they maintained that space differed: some, by and large the most cliche group of private people, would just freeze you out or threaten to arrest you even if you asked them a question more personal than a juice preference. Others were more subtle. You could have an hour’s worth of conversation with them without really finding out very much about them at all, and the realization might never strike you or at least not until they were once again beyond your reach. He himself... well, he was closer to the second approach, certainly but he also wasn’t too private. There wasn’t a lot he was embarrassed about in his life. He just didn’t particularly enjoy talking about himself, because it was a bit dull, but he had no problem engaging in a conversation. Or so he hoped and thought, anyway. Who knew what lay hidden beneath his smiling surface, right? He shook his head. “No, not really. Hufflepuff, you know. We tend to tough things out.” See? Your Hogwarts house, that was surely a disclosure of very personal information? “Which were you in? And why’d you pick this topic to study?” He grinned again, when Phoenix asked the question he might have accidentally talked himself into. “Ehm. I am not sure what they’d recommend in the medical profession,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What with the whole ‘do no harm’ thing. But ‘Impedimenta’ is brilliant if you just want to stop something from happening right now, wears off by itself after a bit, people remain conscious, they just can’t move and punch you. We use that on the mild nutters and the drunks - ah, pardon my French - unless they’ve been very rude and very drunk and then I may occasionally revert to Aguamenti. Guilty pleasure. Other than that, the heavier work’s Restringo... that makes ropes bind them. But you’ve got to be pretty careful with that, because if you don’t know what you’re doing you can accidentally cause all kinds of mishaps. I can teach you if you’d like? Both, if you want.” He grinned. “After all, we’ve the best part of an hour still to go. And how many follow-ups were mandatory... was it four? We can turn them into tutoring.” He could teach the guy an arsenal with that amount of time allotted.
  10. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    “Of course, we’re adorable,” Mal said with a smile. “And very low-maintenance, we only require coffee and lots and lots of personal space.” He was a devout believer in ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ and ‘the only way is up’, incidentally, he wasn’t just trying to pacify Phoenix. Optimism was inherent to every pore of his existence. It was how he managed to deal with his work, which was typically pretty dreadful at times. The firm belief that yes, things were bad now, but it was possible to make things better. It was possible, and he could help. Without that core certainty, he would’ve been a mushy puddle of never drying tears two weeks in on the job. Now, whenever he felt hopeless, he knew already that eventually it would pass. He didn’t know how his more cynical colleagues managed. He suspected they regularly were puddley. And other than that, they got by on crass humour. “Ah. Good class.” Do no harm. Did that really take all that much effort? “Are you happy with the lectures so far? With the Aurors we started with a bunch of really dull safety trainings and physicals, and it only picked up about a month into the programme. I think it’s purposefully done, they want to weed out the people who won’t stick at it early.” He would not put that past Nicholas Eversly, and the guy had a heavy hand in the Auror educational programme. Which was good, by the way. It meant that anyone who got in and passed got hired and that the expectations from the programme were quite a match with those from the real world. Except there was no class on ‘how to handle a year-plus coma’. But he couldn’t really fault them for that. “And, gosh, I bet it’s different, but I’m sure there’s a lot of similarities too.” He sipped his coffee. “What you mentioned, for example. Even if the other person doesn’t want to talk, it’s still your job to get them to, and even if they don’t want help, it’s still your job to do it. Ha. We might even both occasionally end up having to use magic.” Not to interrogate, but to restrain definitely. “And you talk about a lot of stuff that’s tangential to the stuff you want to be discussing because it’s easier, and you try to read between the lines to get to the conclusions you need.”
  11. [1838][EN]Wake me up, before you go

    Ah, she saw right through him. He couldn’t help but laugh, and wonder if she had been as perceptive those nearly two years ago. “What, I need an ulterior motive to go to a pub with my sister?” he protested, quasi-injured, although of course he did have one. Not so much dodging his mother as filling his days, even these still in part on medical leave days. Having something to look forward to if he was once more immersed in paperwork because they couldn’t yet put him out in the field twenty-four seven. Something else to do than to go to his parents’ home, or the empty house that would never hold him and Annie and the little family she’d had in mind. She more than him, he knew that. He’d had her in mind mostly. She had always been a sure thing and he’d liked that. Liked the simple way she loved him, even though all others had told him to cast his net wider. Now, he wasn’t certain he’d read it right. Yeah, he was recovering. She still seemed worried even though she spoke bravely. “I’ll be fine, sis. Really. Couple of months and it’ll be…” Not like it never happened. He couldn’t say that to the people whom his little bout of unconsciousness had hurt the most. “Just a blip.” That meant nothing, but it was easy enough to say. “And er. She couldn’t visit when I was in hospital. You know that.” Not that he felt much like defending his now married erstwhile fiancée. He wanted her happy. Right? Okay, she could have waited a little bit longer. “And thanks. For helping her out. No, I don’t think I want to see her. Not right now, anyway. I mean, I go and either she no longer likes me, which will hurt my ego, or she still does, which will be a mess.” Not ever a good idea. “Mom’ll be pleased, she never did like her.” It wasn’t like there was still damage to limit. She was married. “With you guys and my work, I’ve enough to keep me entertained for now.” Especially since morning strolls were still fatiguing. “Anyhoo. What about you? Seeing anyone?”
  12. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Mal smiled, took another couple of sips from his coffee. “Well… look at it this way, at least from now on, everything else is up for you? It’s good to get that out of the way so early in your career, don’t you think.” He grinned, as he imagined other things Phoenix might run into when once he was actually done with studying, and reflected that Aurors might not even be so bad. He certainly would rather deal with his colleagues than with people with marital troubles or burnouts. Oh, you know, it was probably uncomfortable how often those categories were very much overlapping. Being an Auror did not preclude you from a work-life balance but it certainly wasn’t as appealing as a doughnut and six espresso’s on the night shift. And it didn’t prevent you from having a healthy relationship, just so long as your significant other had an equally busy and not corresponding schedule, because you couldn’t have marital problems if you never spoke. Ahem. “I don’t know? Well, I mean, all of us have tons of secrecy obligations, of course.” He waved his free hand dismissively. “And you know, in an interrogation, the less you say yourself, the more the other person will. Ha. You’d know all about that, I’m sure.” He grinned. “It’s probably among the first lessons they teach you, too. Right? What are the first lessons you guys get, anyway?"
  13. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Storms and herbalists and threats to life. These were probably not things that usually came up in therapy. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been particularly occupied with storms before, but it’s always good to broaden your horizons, isn’t it? It sounds exciting,” he smiled, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’d love to give it a try. I mostly just can’t find the patience for books where the main character sits around musing and pondering and finding more synonyms for that behaviour... those are typically considered very good, but I just get antsy and start wanting to go for a walk.” Or a chase. Or a duel. Or skydiving off a mountain. Admittedly, he had mostly read those kinds of books over the past months and it probably didn’t help with his feelings about them that he had been entirely powerless to go for said walks, duels or adventures. Maybe he should give the books a reread when he wasn’t on medical leave. But then, when would he find the time? “Oh, I’m not on the side where I’m going to throw anything at you, I promise,” he chuckled, with possibly a slight sense of pity in his voice. The guy just looked so very nervous; it made him look even younger. “Relax, we’re just having a chat.” That was probably the thing that Phoenix should have said, but Malcolm was only too comfortable turning this session around and interviewing him instead. It seemed like more fun. He already knew everything about himself, anyway. “So, how’d you get the gig? Professor with a grudge? Or underestimating my colleagues a little?”
  14. [1838/1839][EN] What to do when you're not saving the world?

    Good news, Phoenix: the answer to the question ‘how much of a pyromaniac is he’ in the case of Malcolm Gallagher was essentially not, not at all. At least, not insofar as Mal himself was aware. I mean, he’d set the occasional fire, but those had always been pertinently justified and necessary and only ever after getting everybody out. And he didn’t think he’d enjoyed the actual fire part, either. Well, you know. A little bit maybe. Who wouldn’t? It was warm and impressive and all of those things. But anyway. His first thought when he walked in on Phoenix was ‘young’, by the way. He probably wasn’t that much younger than Mal himself, but he was a lot younger than Malcolm’s notion of a therapist. He generally thought that those were gray-haired wise wizards possibly with some kind of drug addiction. And hey, the benefit of their job was that they could prescribe those for themselves! Look at that, Mal, you’re only half wrong. “Eh, not really. I guess I like reading really crappy books that definitely don’t qualify,” he grinned. “But if you have any recommendations? I’m Mal, by the way. Malcolm.” He took the chair and the coffee, smiled in surprise. “Thanks - damn, this is great service,” he said, chuckling, and had a sip. “What, did some of my colleagues yell at you before? I’m sorry if they’ve been impossible. Therapy for Aurors, you know, they don’t really see the point of interaction with someone they can’t arrest.” Neither did he, he supposed, but then again he had been stuck in physical therapy since the summer and he was kind of okay with it. It beat being comatose. Or not being able to move.
  15. [1838][EN]Wake me up, before you go

    Ah, those OWLs. They took over your entire fifth year. Malcolm remembered. He’d been in Hufflepuff house, of course, one of the most studious (Ravenclaws studied as well but less obviously, less directed, too, applying their minds to wherever their minds took them rather than working hard at things) and the fifth year it had turned into one dogged little community of books and parchments and practice. He’d actually had fun with it. He’d never been very worried about his OWLs, he’d never been very worried about acing them, and he’d always rather enjoyed working hard. Elide, she was a bit less… focused, than he had used to be as a student. But also, she probably was even less focused now than she had used to be. Because of the whole coma thing. “I’ll drop in at Hogsmeade sometime maybe,” he offered with a grin. “Quiz your Transfiguration and buy you drinks you’re too young for. It’s a date?” He wouldn’t, of course, buy her many. He was a responsible older brother. When he didn’t have a curved blade in his guts, that was. That had probably been a little less than responsible. He nodded with a smile, following her gaze. “And yes, I can manage. One assumes the fussing will diminish over time. I probably owe all of you a bit of fussing after the past months, don’t I?” He didn’t mind so very much. His parents were both busy people, so their fussing was limited by necessity and his sister was young, so her fussing was limited by the intrinsic selfishness of children. Indeed, Elide fussed plenty. But he owed her that, too. His face fell as she continued, and he made an effort of cracking it back up. “Yes. She wrote me a letter.” He hummed. “Said she got married. Like, half a year after I…” He shrugged. “Does the guy seem nice?”
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