They Call It Fate ((Maddock))

[Elliot Campbell]

"Got any plans tonight, Campbell?"

Campbell glanced up from his paperwork to eye his colleague with some interest. Hugh was a younger man, but not by much - two years and a half, if Campbell recalled correctly - and had joined the Department of Magical Transportation a few years after Campbell. The two had struck up an intimate friendship - by Campbell's terms, that is. Hugh was one of his closer friends, someone he saw on a regular basis outside of work and who didn't whine and complain about Campbell's 'coolness' or 'aloof nature'. Hugh was used to, and even enjoyed Campbell's personality. He was distant, but Hugh had more than enough friends to sate his friendship needs than require Campbell to be just as social and open. Campbell merely preferred to have alone time and not share his life with everyone; there was nothing wrong with that in Hugh's eyes.

"No." Campbell smiled genially. "I rarely do, Hugh."

"I know, I wanted to make sure, though." Hugh tapped Campbell's desk and then pointed at the clock on the wall. "It's six - time to leave the office, mate. Come have a drink with me. Leaky Cauldron. How about it? Don't tell me you have any better offers."

Campbell chuckled and closed the file he had been scouring. Following Hugh out of his office, he turned off his light, closed the door and locked it. "I don't," Campbell answered, smiling. Moments later, both men had Apparated outside of the Leaky Cauldron, and entered side by side. "Two Firewhiskeys please, Tom," Campbell ordered, flashing the barman a smile as he and Hugh took their seats.

"So, how've you been recently?" Hugh began, gazing across at Campbell questioningly. "You've been busy, I haven't had a chance to speak to you."

Campbell ran a hand through his hair, feeling out the locked strands and separating them neatly. It was too long, grew too quickly; he'd have to get it cut off, all of it, soon. "Just started Apparating classes at Hogwarts," he explained. "It's taken up the time outside of the office." He didn't apologise to Hugh; he never did, nor did he need to.

"What are the brats like?" Hugh asked with a cheeky grin. He was younger than Campbell in both age and mind, and despite his cruder personality, Campbell still appreciated his warmth of character and easy-going nature. "Flirted with any of the girls?"

Campbell raised an eyebrow at his friend's implied comment and shook his head, both at Hugh and in answer, then smiled in amusement. "You would be fired on the very first day, Hugh," he said laughingly. "Nor do I think Amelia would approve."

Their drinks arrived and Hugh nodded his agreement with a widening grin. "I would never take the job on in the first place, mate. Suits you, though; you're strict and proper, kids listen to you. Me? I can't even get Amelia to listen to me! She'd have my head for just putting the wrong socks in the wrong drawer!"

The two men chuckled over the topic of Hugh's wife, until Hugh's eyes suddenly flashed in recognition and he began waving at someone in the entrance of the pub. "Well, if it isn't Maddock Mercer! He was in my year at Hogwarts," he explained to Campbell as he waved his old classmate over. "Let me introduce you, Campbell. Maddock, long time no see!" Hugh shook the man's hand as Campbell assessed him silently. He had immediately recognised the Mercer name; working so high up in the Ministry made him extremely aware of all pure-blooded families in Britain. "How have you been, Madd? Let me introduce you to my colleague, Elliot Campbell. Campbell, this is Maddock Mercer, my old classmate."

Campbell leaned forward and shook Maddock's hand. "Pleasure," he nodded politely.

"How about you join us for a drink, Madd?" Hugh continued, waving at the bar, before saying to Campbell, "Madd works for Mysteries. Campbell here's the new Apparition Instructor at Hogwarts. Remember those days..."

The conversation was mainly held by Hugh for about a quarter of an hour, until a sharp ringing pierced the friendly atmosphere. Hugh drew out his mobile phone - courtesy of his half-blood wife - and was hit with a rather indignant Amelia calling him to come home. "The wife needs me I'm afraid, gentlemen," Hugh announced as he snapped his phone shut. "Must run, hope you don't mind. Please continue without me. Madd, it's been good to catch up." He shook Maddock's hand again. "Campbell, I'll see you tomorrow."

Hugh disappeared with a crack, leaving Campbell and Maddock together. After a brief silence, Campbell turned to his new acquaintance and tried a small smile. "Another drink?" he asked, gesturing at Maddock's empty glass. "I do hope I'm not disappointing company; I'm no Hugh Spencer. By all means, please go if you have somewhere else to be."

[Maddock Mercer]

Maddock loved his job as an Unspeakable, he truly did. He had worked hard to get to where he was and he enjoyed every minute of it. His only complaint, trite though it might seem, was simply the location of the Department of Mysteries. They were an important part of the Ministry, and indeed the wizarding world as a whole, yet they were buried at the very bottom of the Ministry at the ninth level. The placement was only to ensure secrecy and privacy, two qualities that the Unspeakables were well known for. Even at his most tired and overworked, Maddock was rational enough to acknowledge that. The walk through the pleasantly plain corridor to the elevators that returned him to the Atrium now seemed so much longer and tiring than it ever had before, even with the silent company of two other Unspeakables at his side. Colin and Ella, twin siblings who rarely worked with Maddock on projects, were usually the more outgoing and sociable of the Unspeakables. Their uncharacteristic silence only served to remind Maddock of how much effort their last experimental project had taken and how much energy it had sapped from all three of them. At least they got two days off to recover before tackling another assignment.

“We did well.”

Ella’s voice was strained but triumphant; talking was obviously an unnecessary effort, as all three of them had discovered earlier but the woman was new to the Unspeakables and absurdly stubborn. She had her arm around Colin’s waist to keep herself stable but they were both stumbling enough that Maddock wasn’t entirely sure who was keeping who upright. They were twins; their magic was more compatible with the other’s than Maddock’s was so he had been less involved with the practical aspect of the experiment until the very end. Instead of casting spells for three weeks straight with time away from the job only to sleep and eat, Maddock had been up late and rising early to research and plan every aspect of the experiment, adding in the newly discovered variables as they became clear. Everything had to be planned, right down to the individual seconds that ticked past. An Unspeakable’s job was as dangerous as it was secret at times. Alyssa had never stopped worrying about him because of that fact. His sister was a good mother, even if Maddock often wished that she would stop trying to mother her older brother and concentrate solely on her children. His three sisters had enough children to occupy their time, with seven children between them and Leah pregnant yet again.

The three Unspeakables parted at the Atrium; Colin and Ella to their flat and Maddock to the Leaky Cauldron. There was no food in his flat; Maddock knew that without needing to return home to check. He was notorious among his sisters for never keeping his cupboards stocked with food. Emily, the eldest of his sisters, was forever scolding him for it. Regardless of his empty kitchen, Maddock probably wouldn’t have been up to cooking even if his cupboards had been full to the brim. He had eaten at the Leaky Cauldron after a long few days or weeks of wearisome experiments before now. At least he didn’t have anyone to return home to, someone filled with curious questions that Maddock both couldn’t and wouldn’t answer. That was the hard part about his job. Maddock couldn’t tell anyone about how his day had been or what he had been working on that day. His family would listen to him if he felt the undeniable need to share something with them; Maddock was frequently entertained by his sisters’ retellings of their daily lives and everything that he missed because he lived in London instead of in Wales or in Newcastle with Leah, and he had always been the holder of their secrets. They were a close-knit family, especially Maddock and his sisters; he was sometimes bothered by the secrets he kept from them simply because of the job he did. He would never choose a different occupation though. He loved what he did too much to change his career.

Maddock entered the pub, heading straight for the bar with the intention of ordering a drink and his meal so that he could be fed swiftly and then collapse into bed after apparating back to his flat. The sound of someone calling his name and the realisation that someone was waving him over to a table made him pause and change direction upon recognising the man. “Hugh.” Maddock’s smile was warm, if more than slightly weary, as he greeted the man. They had attended Hogwarts together and Maddock vaguely recalled having a distant appreciation of Hugh’s good looks when he had still been in the school. He had never acted on it. Maddock very rarely did. He had the confidence to ask a man out on a date, just not the inclination or the time. “You’re as unobservant as ever then, I see. I saw you in the Atrium two weeks ago, Hugh. I would’ve stopped to say hello but Emily needed me to babysit and I was nearly running late.” Maddock clasped Hugh’s hand in a firm handshake before shaking Campbell’s hand with a polite smile. Campbell was handsome and well dressed, Maddock noted absently. Part of his mind always did that, noticed how attractive or unattractive a man was. It was the closest to an actual date that Maddock ever really got around to.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m presuming you prefer Campbell rather than Elliot?” Maddock questioned, just to make sure, before Hugh all but demanded his attention once more. It had been a while since Maddock had last heard a voice not belonging to his family address him as ‘Madd’. Maddock preferred to keep his co-workers away from his personal life so none of them had really caught on to the nickname his sisters and friends had gifted him with. It could have been worse than shortening his name to make it sound like he belonged in an asylum. Leah had tried called him ‘Maddie’ once. The hex Maddock had sent at his youngest sister had discouraged her from trying it again. Sounding like people were calling him mad was quite enough. Being called by a girl’s name was something entirely different. “It was nice to see you again; I’ll drop by your department sometime so we can talk more.”

There was a silence that hovered between comfortable and awkward after Hugh left, then Campbell spoke up and Maddock nodded his head with a wry smile. “Yes to the drink.” Definitely yes to the drink. It had alleviated his tiredness somewhat, as had Hugh’s seemingly endless chatter. “I’m here for dinner though, unless you would prefer for me to find another table? Shopping for food hasn’t been at the top of my priority list recently.”

[Elliot Campbell]

Campbell nodded. "Yes. My family are the only exception. I'm rarely referred to as 'Elliot'." He gave a smile. His parents called him by his first name, but Alannah had nicknamed him 'Ell' when he was a child, and she and Rachel had never fallen out of the habit. Thankfully, Alannah's husband called him 'Campbell', like everyone else, but their children continued to refer to him as 'Uncle Ell'. Campbell let Claire and Tristan get away with it. He could only blame their mother! Campbell didn't dislike 'Elliot', though; he had just grown too accustomed to be referred to by his surname, since the boys at Beauxbatons had insisted on using last and not first names, as though such an act made them manlier. Campbell had taken to the twist in his namesake; he preferred it, though he couldn't explain why. From then onwards, he had always introduced himself as 'Campbell', and his friends had learnt not to call him 'Elliot'. That was a privilege given to few. With Hugh gone, Campbell asked, "Do your friends call you 'Madd', or is Hugh just bastardising your name, as he does everyone?" He smiled, humoured. "He once called me 'Camp'. Never again." A flash of both irritation and amusement reflected within his dark eyes, a memory of a merciless wand and a rather useful hex surfacing in his mind. No one messed with Campbell's name; he didn't appreciate it. No nicknames, no funny stuff. Just 'Campbell'. It defined him, who he was - his first name, his family name, everything.

At Maddock's agreement, Campbell signalled Tom across and asked for two re-fills. "I haven't had dinner yet," he replied. "It would be a pleasure to accompany you for the evening." Campbell was prone to eating alone, but he was often involved in dinners with infamous witches and wizards; relationships cultivated in order to benefit his department. Campbell didn't see such attempts to generate friendship as manipulative and deceiving; both parties knew what was at stake, what could be achieved through better cooperation. Campbell never grew too close, they never asked for too much, and in return, Campbell knew he had gained their trust and cooperation. It was a good deal, and he was obliged to do it in his job. He didn't mind; he didn't enjoy it, but he was naturally suave and polite, and people seemed to gravitate towards him, like him immediately. Campbell was aware of it - sometimes used it in his favour meaningfully - but he would never abuse it. It was a gift he had been given, to be used, but not to be abused. He was in no way religious, but he did believe in equality of men. Campbell was a fair man.

Maddock Mercer was in no way a wizard Campbell needed to 'seduce', though. A friendship with him would cultivate little but personal friendship, for the Department of Magical Transportation and the Department of Mysteries rarely, if ever, corroborated. Still, there was no harm, and Campbell was not a skilled or keen cook. He ate out whenever - he could afford to - and he doubted an Unspeakable like Maddock would demand much of his attention after tonight. He was surely a busy man, as was Campbell, and they would hardly become close friends. He seemed decent enough for a shared meal, Campbell was not against the idea. And so, the two men took their beverages and moved to a table for two in the corner of the room. Campbell sat and immediately scanned the menu briefly. He knew the Leaky Cauldron's dishes well; he ate here often enough. A minute later, the menu was back on the table, and Campbell was observing Maddock in silence. "Forgive me," he finally said, when he deemed his company had finished scouring the food choices, "but you seem tired. I don't wish to tire you further... You need not feel any obligation towards entertaining me. I can keep myself well entertained." He smiled. "I like solitude, in healthy doses."

[Maddock Mercer]

“Campbell it is then.” Maddock smiled easily, the expression lit with muted amusement. “I just wanted to make sure that you didn’t prefer ‘Elliot’. Hugh tends to call people by whatever name he deems to suit them best, regardless of differing opinion or protest, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.” Hugh Spencer, while one of Maddock’s closer friends during their years at Hogwarts, was not the most thoughtful or considerate man. Especially where names were concerned; Hugh loved to shorten or change names for his own convenience and entertainment. “’Madd’ is a genuine nickname,” Maddock affirmed with the flicker of a smile playing about his mouth. “My sisters started it during our childhood, since apparently ‘Maddock’ is too long of a name for a five year old to pronounce. Then we started Hogwarts and it caught on quickly.” That had annoyed him more than just a little, at first. ‘Madd’ had been reserved solely for his sisters; for Emily and Alyssa and Leah. Even their parents had called him by his full name. Then Alyssa had entered Hogwarts during his third year, a year after Emily had, and suddenly everyone seemed to be calling him ‘Madd’. He had grown used to it though. There had been little choice otherwise. Besides, it hadn’t truly mattered much. Maddock and his three sisters had long grown out of the childish enjoyment of secret codes and hidden messages. At least, he and Leah had. Emily and Alyssa still occasionally sent encrypted messages in their old code that had taken him hours to decipher the first time he had received one. The two eldest of his younger sisters took it upon themselves to keep him alert; citing that there might be a time when he was needed for something top secret as their reason.

Something as of yet unidentified in Campbell’s tone as he talked about one of Hugh’s more unfortunately chosen names earned a small, humoured smirk from Maddock. It was rare to find someone who could tolerate Hugh without wanting to throttle him sometimes, but Maddock still appreciated finding new people who felt exasperated by the occasionally taxing presence of Hugh Spencer. He couldn’t, however, recall inviting Campbell to eat dinner with him but that was of little importance. It would be pleasant to have company for a change. Maddock was very much unlike the insensible people person that he had been during his earlier teenage years, before he had discovered the Department of Mysteries and his drive to work there, but he did still find that living, eating and existing all by himself was lonely at times. The only real company he got was during work hours and even then Maddock was, obviously, mostly focused on the work he was doing rather than socialising with co-workers. He didn’t go to work to chat with people and make friends; work hours were, unsurprisingly, for working. So Campbell’s company would be appreciated. Not just for the simple pleasure of human interaction and an amicable conversation during dinner but also as evidence to prevent his sisters from worrying about what they perceived as his lack of friends. Then again, Maddock reconsidered with serious yet possibly unwarranted concern, at least one of his sisters would probably send an owl to Campbell to ensure that he had been truthful. They all had their own lives to lead, but the girls worried about his evident deficiency of a social life.

After a quick swallow of his Firewhiskey, Maddock gathered his glass and followed Campbell over to one of the tables approved for dining on. He ate at the Leaky Cauldron often enough to know what meal he would eventually decide on but Maddock still scanned over the menu briefly. It was simply out of force of habit by now. Regardless of whether he already knew what he wanted or not, Maddock read the menu provided. There might have been new dishes added to the lists that could have appealed to him more after all. It was a possibility, especially since he hadn’t eaten at the pub for a few weeks. Maddock eyed his companion with unhidden, characteristic wariness for a second before offering a slow, apologetic smile; apologising both for his weariness and his momentary suspicion of the other man. There were always people who wanted to dig deeper into the secrecy surrounding the Unspeakables. Although Campbell didn’t seem to be that type of man, Maddock didn’t really know him at all and first meetings were a poor basis for trust. The Unspeakables were mysterious and secretive for a reason, not merely to follow the precedent set by the name of their department. “Work has been exhausting recently,” Maddock answered vaguely, careful with his words as he always was when discussing his job. “New projects are always being considered and everything has to be researched and planned out perfectly before anything can even be attempted. So while I most likely won’t be staying long lest I fall asleep at the table, your company is appreciated.”

[Elliot Campbell]

Campbell smiled, both amused and appreciative. “Sisters have a knack for providing the most interesting, and usually embarrassing, nicknames,” he said with evident implication of his own experiences with his sisters. “I can’t tolerate being addressed as anything but my given name and family name, unlike yourself. I’m afraid I become quite impatient with those who don’t heed my warnings.” Campbell was a one-chance man; he was always willing to give people a chance – but one chance only, that was all, no more and no less. Second chances were not in Campbell’s dictionary; he didn’t forgive those who broke his trust more than once, it was illogical to do so.

“Of course.” Campbell nodded understandingly; he was well aware of the pressures of work, of its time-consuming nature. “Considering your department’s business, I am unsurprised.” Maddock was one of few acquaintances of Campbell’s who worked in the Department of Mysteries; it was an extremely secretive and discreet department for obvious reasons – its name made that obvious enough. Campbell was curious but not nosey by nature, and judging from Maddock’s vague and general answers, he was aware his work was not a conversational topic, unlike his own.

“Planning is crucial,” Campbell continued in agreement. “Though my line of work hardly requires planning; it’s considerably more spontaneous. The paperwork, on the other hand, is tedious at best.” He cracked a smile, until he was interrupted by Tom appearing by his shoulder, waiting for his order. “Your best roast please, Tom,” Campbell said as he folded up the menu. “And a glass of tap water.”

After Tom had taken Maddock’s order too, silence fell. Campbell was, unlike most, secure during silences; he always chose to remain silent when the atmosphere was comfortable, though – he would speak if he must, but he felt at ease in Maddock’s presence. His company was evidently tired and did not wish to be talked down, nor was Campbell a talkative person.

Campbell decided that mild and simple conversation would suffice. Once Tom had returned with a glass of water to accompany his half-empty Firewhiskey (it was a weekday and work evening, and Campbell only drank in moderation), he asked, “If you can never divulge your work’s business, what do you distract your friends with during conversation?” Campbell was an odd blend of straightforward and tactful, in the hope he would receive accurate answers and simultaneously avoid offence. He looked expectantly at Maddock, wearing a small smile containing little pressure.

“I admit, I am no socialite,” Campbell continued casually, curling a loose black wave behind his ear and making another mental note that he needed to visit his hairdresser. “My colleagues describe me as charming, but I don’t care for company.” He flashed Maddock a smile that was not at all arrogant; just honest and frank. “I enjoy quiet and genial drinks with friends, and meeting new individuals does not repulse me; after all, it is part of my job description. Given a choice, though, I am quite closed to the world. Apparently it frustrates those around me, so...” Campbell looked into Maddock’s eyes, his tone of voice both contrite and matter-of-fact. “I apologise in advance if I offend you by trying not to offend you. It seems to happen with those over-exposed to myself.”

Despite nearly all of his acquaintances claiming to be fond of Campbell, it was true those who were particularly close to him, with the exception of his family, eventually discovered Campbell’s closed personality, under the initial odd mix of aloofness and charm. It was the reason his marriage had failed. Campbell was able to make relationships; but he was unable to keep them, not because he was disloyal, but because he could not open himself up, give up enough to form a truly meaningful bond. Campbell didn’t want such a bond; he had his family – his father and mother, his sisters and his nieces and nephews – he had decided he would never truly settle down and have children, and he didn’t need close friends to maintain his happiness, so why look for something one does not need?