Maitland was one who enjoyed silence.

The peace of the air was something he was unused to as he strolled the campus of Merlin's Academy. Beauxbatons had been flourished with giggles, with loud shrieks, with all the sound of youth. That wasn't to say he hated children, far from it, but he wasn't particularly sound of the ever so loud noises they made. Strange to say, Beauxbatons had been far more bearable than Durmstrang. Merlin knew that the Bulgarian boys at Durmstrang had a penchant for loud chants and cants of irrational Russian phrases. Briefly, Maitland questioned his rationing in moving to Bulgaria and France, where his written language skills exceeded his speaking skill.

Nevertheless, there was peace here in Merlin's.

So much peace he found himself contentedly bending down a little to lift a stone from the ground and toss it onto the lake and watch the ripples explode in pure glee. He enjoyed the silence for a moment, hands in the pockets of his Dolce and Cabana grey slacks, paired with a white prim Oxford button up rolled up at the elbows and brown loafers. He hadn't noticed another presence until he heard an abrupt sound that his snapping his head towards it and his left hand twitching as it regained a hold on his wand inside his pocket.

With more and more run-ins with classmates and other acquaintances lately, perhaps even making a few friends, Parker felt like he needed some quiet time out to himself. Er, well, more quiet time out to himself.

Just a few weeks ago he might have really enjoyed all the new company he was making, but recently he had been overwhelmed and/or drained almost all the time. He still felt just as lonely as before, but simply did not have the patience or energy for others now. He hated getting like this. He hated even more that he didn’t have a single person to go to about it. It made him wonder what was wrong with him that made it so difficult to connect with others, that made it so difficult to get through the day, that made it so difficult to just… be.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans, a rather thin long-sleeved shirt draped over his too-thin frame. It was much colder out than he anticipated, and his tense shivering made his body ache terribly as he went about his way towards an area of the grounds he’d not yet ventured. He pulled his wand out from his waistband as he walked, casting a simple warming charm, unable to force himself to hold out against the cold for the remainder of the walk. Not paying attention to where he was going, his foot caught on an exposed root of a nearby tree. He gasped as he tripped and his wand fell from his hand onto the ground, rolling several feet away.

“Argh, crap,” he groaned as he righted himself. He brushed off his stinging palms and dirtied knees, his face red from the cold and from embarrassment. He began looking around for where his wand went, stopping abruptly and straightening his back when he saw an older, very nicely dressed gentleman looking over… the lake outstretched before them.

{OOC: Oops, I got a bit carried away, don't worry about matching length!!}

Immediately after seeing the crash the male took, Maitland winced at it before scanning for what he assumed the boy had been looking for- his wand. He took several strides towards the stick, the distinctive difference between the ground and the shade he lifted it towards the boy. Then he did a thorough single, glance over for the boy.

Maitland had a very set reason for majoring in the subjects he did. He'd seen suffering in his brother, Isaiah, in his mother, in his girlfriend and almost daughter. He'd seen himself in the mirror the times when he was at his lowest. The boy wasn't a pureblood; they'd never let other seem them ungraceful. Nor was he wearing the clothes of a rich boy. He was either a half-blood or a muggleborn, and when he saw the way the shirt hung off the boy's body he drew the next conclusion that the boy wasn't from a rich family at all. Blood purity aside, this young lad wasn't from money. What was he doing at a school such as Merlin's then?

A scholarship, his brain suppplied, and he bit back the urge to nod in self-satisfaction. It would only make sense then. This meant the boy was a scholarship student. Had he not had Isaiah would he...? Maitland shook the thought away. He offered the boy his wand, Maitland's own securely in his pocket, bending down slightly to meet his vision.

"Are you alright, kid?" He asked gently, placing a cautious hand on the boy's upper back before seeing a large enough rock to use as a seat a little way's away. Maitland nodded his head towards it. "I know a thing or two about healing, may I?"

Parker swallowed hard, internally squirming under the older’s brief gaze. His bright eyes made Parker feel like he was being examined under a microscope, and the younger suddenly found himself feeling extremely self-conscious, almost hyper aware of his presence. He folded his arms across his chest, hands rubbing over his upper arms in discomfort as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

When everyone else always looked so put together and well off, Parker couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. He found himself wishing that he could at least look like he fit in here upon first glance. He hated the way most people looked at him, as if he were some pitiable thing that needed to be treated with excess care and caution. He hated himself even more for not trying harder to change that image of himself.

Parker took a few steps forward when he had noticed the older man picked up his wand from rocks at his feet. “Thank you,” he said, voice barely audible as he stretched out a hand to take his wand back. It looked so different in the other man’s grasp; so fragile in hands that seemed so much larger than his own.

“Uhm, yeah, I’m fine,” Parker responded as he put his wand back into his waistband, pausing briefly when he felt a hand on his back. “I didn’t trip too bad, I mean, I should be fine… but, erm, sure?” Parker inwardly winced at his inability to string words together properly. Looking down at one of his scraped palms, he went to sit down at the nearby rock the older man had nodded towards. Parker probably would have been able to deal with the small scrapes just fine on his own, but he felt thankful for the help offered. In all honestly, he had spend far too much of his life denying any and all help others offered to him, so part of his silly New Year’s resolution was to start letting himself be helped.

Parker glanced up nervously at the shore of the lake and then looked back towards the older man, curious as to why he was out there and who he was. He’d certainly never seen him around before. “Sorry for disturbing you. I should really be more careful about where I’m walking...”

Maitland for the most part had no care about what others thought of him. He knew he had a way of making others uncomfortable, he refused to think of the time when he snapped (lack of caffeine, spill of his replacement cup all over his shirt, then his second replacement cup being broken) at a sixteen year old Bulgarian who cried and reported him. The Headmaster was on Maitland's side of course, telling the boy to toughen up. As he stared at the boy he got the feeling of anger. Now, anyone's natural response would be to apologize for staring, for scrutinizing another person without pretense. It was rude wasn't it? Out of social protocol to blatantly stare at a person. The only good part about Maitland's staring was he tended to keep it impassive.

Impassive on the outside but on the inside, he felt his heartstrings pulled. How many times had he, in his youth, in the darkest days had he stared at his own body in the mirror. The small, stringy arms with no muscle on them; he'd stared at his own. The space in the shirts that would look more natural if he'd stuffed a pillow in between his body and his shirt. There were the circles under the eyes, but he was grateful that there were no markings of 'amorous' activity on the male.

"Maitland Ritter, your name?" He asked, as he took the male's palms and murmured a light spell, "sana rade." Deriving from Latin it was literally designed to heal light scrapes and cuts, for which were quintessential in knowing when Pa-

"Don't bother apologizing, it was not on purpose." He said impassively, showing no emotion, "no pain anywhere else?" Maitland prompted.

Letting the older man take hold of his hands as he properly introduced himself and muttered a simple scrape-healing spell, Parker tried to force himself to relax a little. “I’m Parker. Uhm, Parker Emery. You… you wouldn’t happen to be a professor here, would you?” he ventured to ask cautiously, needing to know how he should properly conduct himself. The way Ritter dressed, the way he was so willing to help - he just had to be a professor - it made sense.

Parker glanced up from his now-healed hands to Ritter, and then to the lake again. Being so close to the water was making him feel nervous. Parker hadn’t intended to walk this way when he set out. Granted, this wasn’t the Black Lake, but there was still no telling what might lay just beneath the surface…

"No pain anywhere else?"

He pulled himself from his trailing thoughts, and shook his head, “No, no there’s not.” Slightly put-off by the lack of tone or emotion in the older man’s voice, Parker rubbed his hands together, simply glad the stinging pain was gone. “Thank you.”

{{ tw: mentions of prostitution }}

Maitland could tell when he was being analyzed right back, and he felt a tinge of pride to note that the kid- well, Parker apparently,- was doing it right back at him. Maitland remembers clearly when he started analyzing people, situations, and places. It was amidst the decision to sell more than drugs, he'd looked at the people ravishing them with their penetrating gazes, and he made an inference of what they wanted. Then who they were. His inference on who they were was correct enough that he knew how much to charge (more for professors and politicians, less for the common people, none for the gross beggars). It wasn't the most savory way to come about analyzing things, but it happened that way nonetheless.

When Parker asked the question about his occupation, Maitland tensed a little before relaxing.

"Yes, I teach Potions and Antidotes under the Potioneers Department and Spell Damage under the Healers' Department," Maitland sat himself down next to Parker, "I assume you also major here?" It was formed like a declaration but he made it more inquisitive than that.

"Yes, I teach Potions and Antidotes under the Potioneers Department and Spell Damage under the Healers' Department."

Upon hearing conformation that Ritter-- er, Professor Ritter, was who Parker thought, his demeanor shifted. He straightened his back a little more, stopped lightly kicking at the pebbles surrounding them, tried to stop picking at the already-irritated skin around his finger nails - all the while his embarrassment growing.

Not only was he a professor for classes in two different majors, he was the professor for two classes he was actually interested in taking next term. Great. Fantastic first impression, Parker you damned idiot!! he scolded himself, feeling incredibly foolish.

"I assume you also major here?"

Parker took in a breath and nodded. "Uh, yeah-- yes. I'm a healer-in-training. Which means, I'm also one of your students, I suppose?" he said, thought it came out sounding more like a question. "I, uhm, heard that the old professor for Spell Damage was returning to a position at St. Mungos, so I was pretty interested in who would be taking over..."

Maitland raised a bemused eyebrow as he noticed the small shifts in Parker's character. He rolled his eyes, feeling amusement tweak at him. Truth be told the boy could jump through circles and flip over fire and he'd still have the same impression of Parker before the steeling of his spine. In all honesty, before he'd come to Merlin's he'd had his fair share of moments of shame or embarrassment. He had accidentally told a teacher to screw off mistaking her for a student when she flirted, but in fairness it was highly unprofessional for her to be flirting with a coworker. Currently, he was still concerned with the boy's wellbeing. Any healthy body would have taken the trip with ease before standing up and brushing himself off, with no bruises. From the way clothes hung off Parker's body, Maitland could earnestly tell that the boy ate maybe a piece of toast for breakfast.

"Relax Parker, I introduced myself as Maitland not Professor, therefore you have my respect to call me by my first name," with that he graced Parker with a reassuring smile, full of fondness, "and yes Professor Carter returned to St. Mungo's and I took on Spell Damage as well as Potions and Antidotes as they were the two majors I excelled most in college and graduate school. How are you enjoying Merlin's? Surely they have more than enough food to feed a gro-man such as yourself." Although Parker was not short vertically, horizontally Maitland could put a twig up to Parker and find him to be the same measurements. "Not to be rude, of course, understand I am only showing concern for a student." He added, as he knew that vocalizing concern could lead to a person pushing another away.

Parker never really knew how to act or behave around the more casually kind, professional adults. He wasn’t use to it. His professors at Hogwarts had all been fairly distant - none of them he was particularly close or attached to. Most of the other adults in his life were family or from his old neighborhood (his Gran being the only respectable one from those groups). The few times an adult stranger really tried to be casual towards him was when they were trying to sell him and those kids from his old neighborhood hard drugs.

He chucked slightly, though it still seemed embarrassed and awkward. “Well, that honestly might take a while to get used to. Sorry in advance,” he added with a light shrug, feeling somewhat comforted by the man’s warm smile.

“How are you enjoying Merlin's? Surely they have more than enough food to feed a grown man such as yourself."

Preparing to respond to the first question, Parker found the words get caught in his throat at the second one as he felt embarrassment and insecurity took over as strongly as ever. Comments about his weight and size in generally weren’t entirely uncommon to him, but to hear it come from a professor - especially someone built like Maitland - made it seem even worse somehow.

"Not to be rude, of course, understand I am only showing concern for a student."

Parker folded his hands in his lap and nodded, trying not to make the drop in his expression obvious. “Of course. I - uh - I’m just so busy is all, still learning to manage my time. Never really the time to cook and sometimes it just slips my mind, I suppose. Though… that does seem kinda ridiculous, I know.” Excuses, excuses...

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and turned his head to look out over the lake with furrowed brows. “Do you mind me asking why you were out all this way? I never really see professors too far from the castle.” He asked stiffly.

Maitland sighed irritatedly as he checked his watch, glad he hadn't forgotten to secure it onto his wrist before leaving his apartment. He bit his lower lip, he'd promised Isaiah in his last email to call him just for adjustment check in's. Sad to say, Maitland did not wish to end this conversation with Parker. Maitland saw something like who he once was in Parker and sincerely didn't wish to leave the boy alone. Maitland still remembers quite vividly all the times that he had stared into the mirror to see clothes that never fit his body quite right, too big too much room to fill. The only difference was, Maitland blessed his over analytical mind, that he could see that Parker clearly didn't have another sibling. Or if Parker did have an sibling then they weren't older because then they'd have been right on the case of Parker's lack of eating.

In his mind, Maitland begun to make plans to figure out a way to take Parker from Merlin's to Diagon Alley, since the boy most likely couldn't purchase necessities that Maitland was sure most other college students had access too. Perhaps books? Maybe food would work too? Definitely the food part, what about robes? Maitland decided that buying a student clothes was just too weird out of the blue. He'd have to wait until there was a formal event or something of that nature to have an excuse to take the boy out.

Maitland ran a hand through his hair.

"It's fine Parker, call me what you wish," Maitland said shrugging. Maitland narrowed his eyes at the boy's words, spotting that the nature of it was of excuses. Little lies, Maitland sighed.

"No need to make excuses, Parker, I know them when I hear them," Maitland murmured curtly, before sighing. "Understand Parker, I do not know your situation, but I was once in a place where I too had not enough to eat," his voice was softer at that. He stood up before taking his handy-dandy pen from his pocket to write information on a grocery receipt for food in the past week. On the back he scribbled his address for Parker.

"I'm just looking about the castle since I've just started teaching here, I'm afraid I've got to go Parker, but I would like it if you and I became friends, whatever things you're going through, I'd like to help. If you don't mind." Maitland held out his hand with the information on it for the boy. Once the boy took it, Maitland turned on his heel and left with quick strides.

{{OOC: Permission to godmod from Taylor!}}