9 January, 1891 — Crowdy Library

Juliana had returned several basic chemistry books that morning and was in the process of pursuing some slightly more advanced reading material when she spotted it — the headline splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet. She stopped in her tracks, face going white, and immediately abandoned the book she'd been carrying so that she could instead retrieve a spare copy of the paper from a nearby reading table. She skimmed the article, aghast, then read it again more slowly. Her head was spinning — she had never been the type of woman prone to fainting spells, but she thought this must be what it felt like to have one coming on.

No one took Picardy seriously, she tried to tell herself. A letter to the paper casting doubt on Forfang's legitimacy would not prevent her book from continuing through to publishing, nor would it stop any future papers from being considered for publication. Still, sending in her letter earlier this week had been a mistake, she felt. This was more scrutiny than she cared for on the credentials of her faked researcher persona.

She needed to rally and continue about her day, and pretend she hadn't seen this, but for the moment she was still too shaken to trust herself standing or walking. Nor could she pretend any further interest in the newspaper in her hands.

"Well, that's certainly something," she remarked to another library patron nearby, who had a copy of the paper as well and had presumably read the article. Talking might give her a moment to collect herself. "You don't often see academics rolling up their sleeves like that."

OOC: Would prefer to move this along quickly as it might determine if/how Jules responds!

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

While Bertie had a substantial library at his home, it was nothing in comparison to the collection at Crowdy Memorial Library. He was researching for work - taking time off from work for himself was not something Bertie did regularly - as they had a curious case in. As the most senior healer in his department, it was his responsibility to get to the bottom of it.

His mama had sent him off with lunch and a newspaper. He had promised her that he would have a break, and not sit and work all day. Naturally, he fulfilled his promise. Once done, he returned to his research.

Bertie looked up when the lady spoke to him. "Indeed," he replied, "I find sometimes academics fail to see the bigger picture. It does seem Professor Forfang's research shall improve many people's lives. It seems that Professor Picardy is more interested in his pride."

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Juliana knew she could not use this man's comments to draw conclusions about how the article had been received generally. This was an entirely unscientific sample size of one, and it was just the random person who happened to be sharing that area of the library with her. All the same, it bolstered her spirits considerably to hear that, even after reading it, this one random and inconsequential man favored Forfang's research over Picardy's.

"He did get a bit petty towards the end," she said in a conversational tone. "Who cares if he's fifty or fifty-one?"

She did. She cared deeply. That error alone would have been grounds for not publishing her initial letter at all, but the editors at the Prophet were more interested in sensationalism than accuracy in many cases. Still, she wished she'd had a clear and reliable source before writing — doing so on a whim had been foolish, and this was the result of her folly.

"But do you think he has a point, about the possibility of Forfang publishing under a pseudonym? Do you think the public has a right to know whose research they're reading?"

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Bertie pondered her question, head tilted and staring off into the distance. He remained silent for several seconds while he contemplated his response.

When he was ready, he looked to her and replied with: "The issue, perhaps, with anonymity, is that it means the individual is less liable for scrutiny. Scrutiny is a key aspect of research - and if no one knows one's identity, it means that a key aspect of research cannot take place. One cannot know his biases, his conflicts of interests, whether he is a reputable researcher. Don't you agree?"

After a short pause he added. "And yes, I do agree. It is rather petty."

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The silence had stretched long enough that Juliana wasn't sure he was planning to answer her, but when he did she found herself nodding along immediately. She didn't feel that people outside of the academic community often understood the intricacies of research, and was surprised (though pleasantly so) that she had happened into such a fortunately well-suited conversation partner by chance.

"Yes, yes, you've hit on it exactly," she agreed. "The research itself is still peer-reviewed but it does remove the personal aspect of it. Like Picardy's history with the Werewolf Capture Unit and his wife's death. I think Forfang had a point that his work can't be properly understood without that context."

Of course, one of the things he'd mentioned, whether he was a reputable researcher, was the reason she'd chosen a pseudonym in the first place. Her work was sound, but who would believe that was the case if they knew it was written by a dotty spinster who'd never received her OWLs?

"Does the utility of the work outweigh the potential pseudonym?" she wondered aloud. "You said yourself, Forfang's work could help people. Though not, I suppose, if it's misunderstood," she reflected. "Though if it were a pseudonym, Forfang could hardly say so now. It would look like he was capitulating to Picardy, and I'm sure he'd sooner die — their research couldn't possibly be more in opposition," she said, realizing distantly that she probably ought not to be letting on that she knew so much about the subject.

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Once again, Bertie contemplated her words before he responded. "Fundamentally - yes I think the work should speak for itself. If it is sound research, then that should be the end of the discussion. Although perhaps realistically, it is not that simple. Again, biases, conflicts of interests - and a lack of culpability if anything was to be awry."

Bertie took a short pause in thought, before adding. "I suppose I could not tell you what I would do if I was Professor Forfang. I could not allow my name to be slandered, but sometimes one has to rise above petty behaviour."

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Juliana considered, frowning. She certainly didn't believe herself to be overly biased on the subject, but then, Picardy probably thought the same. She thought objectively most people would agree; she didn't even know any werewolves, outside of her research... though who was to say what people would think when she hadn't afforded them the possibility to draw their own conclusions? On the other hand, though, she thought her work was too important to allow its potential to be marred by stupid assumptions people were likely to make about her, if they knew she was the source.

She smiled slightly as he continued. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing you're not Professor Forfang, then," she said lightly. With another glance at the paper, she continued, "I think you're right about pettiness. I don't think — well, I hope if Forfang does respond, he doesn't use the newspaper as his platform. That just seems like... well, I think these sorts of public face-offs could get out of hand, don't you?" she asked. She had moved beyond merely speculating aloud and was now keen to hear his opinion, since he'd had such a measured and well-thought-out response to everything else she'd said. She supposed at some point she ought to ask his name.

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

"Yes, I suppose they often do. With an audience, it may be hard to resist the urge for one-upmanship. Particularly if it is a subject one is passionate about." It was certainly a flaw of his own, to become petty and lose his cool when it came to something he was passionate about. Even though he was usually calm and collected, it was easily done.

"Are you interested in this particular area of research? Or are you merely interested in the dramatics of it all?" he asked.

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Well, she suppose he saw right through her — one could she really claim to have been accomplishing with her letter earlier this week except trying to one-up Mr. Picardy and embarrass him in public view? She could pretend at least a little bit of a noble purpose; if he was embarrassed and his research was discredited, she did think that would be a benefit to the werewolf community and to the wizarding world at large, but, still. The actual impetus to send it in had mostly been her pride.

Luckily he hadn't entirely seen through her — as his next question evidenced, he still didn't know why she'd struck up this conversation in the first place. She typically pretended not to know much about the subject at all, but she felt that with what she'd said so far that would be a flimsy excuse at best. Perhaps something a little closer to the truth, then.

"No, not only the drama," she admitted with a small smile. "I've done some fairly extensive reading on the subject." (And perhaps they could leave it at that). "And you? Are you much familiar with either of their work, or only in passing?"

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Bertie nodded in interest as she admitted her research into werewolves. What a fascinating area of research - especially for a lady.

"No," Bertie replied, "I work at Hogsmeade hospital. As a healer - I'm in charge of magical bugs. I mostly review research particularly pertaining to my job. Have you always been so interested in lycanthropy?" He looked to her with genuine curiosity.

Bertie wondered where her interest had begun. The world was not teeming with ladies who found such an interest in the topic. But, he supposed, werewolves were normal people 98% of the time. Perhaps her brother was a werewolf. Perhaps she was a werewolf. Who knew.

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   Juliana Ainsworth

"Not always," Jules admitted. "When I was a student I would read about all sorts of things, but lycanthropy research has fascinated me since — fifteen, I suppose," she said, thinking back over the series of events that had lead to her particular and peculiar choice of career. "I think what intrigued me most, at the time, was how little of it there actually was — you know, given that werewolves have existed for hundreds of years right in the midst of wizarding society. And what research there was seemed to always be conflicting. How could we know so little about something so much a part of us?"

She should probably stop, but it wasn't often that she had the chance to discuss her interests so frankly. She didn't often allow herself to admit to anyone what her interests actually were, so it never had the chance to come up — but it was rather nice, being able to talk to someone about it. Particularly someone whom she had already decided, over the course of this very brief conversation, had solid and reasonable opinions about things. Though if he was a healer, she supposed that made sense — medicine was not a purely academic pursuit, the way research was, but it still had much in common with science and so she ought not to be surprised to find such an intelligent man amongst the ranks of healers.

She could have said more about her research, but she didn't want to give herself away, so forced herself to change the subject. "Magical bugs seems a very different sort of field, though; I hope I'm not boring you, Mr. —?"

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Bertie listened to her intently, fascinated by her. It was always interesting to meet someone so interested and so passionate about something.

"Aaldenberg," Bertie replied, "And not at all. My mama says I need to ensure I do not work for hours on end without a break - and this is an excellent way to take a break from my work." Perhaps Bertie should have felt some sort embarrassment for speaking about his mother as if he was still a small child, but he did not. He earnestly spoke about her, with no irony or humour.

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   Juliana Ainsworth

Juliana was not one to consider a reference to one's mother strange, seeing as she still lived with hers and Mrs. Binns had always taken a slightly-too-active interest in managing the lives of her children. A mother handing down instructions on how often to take breaks seemed entirely par for the course to her.

"When I'm really interested in something, sometimes I forget to take breaks, too," she commented. "My Mama says I'd likely starve to death if she didn't remind me to eat sometimes. But I much appreciate your taking the time to talk with me today, Mr. Aaldenberg," she continued earnestly. "The, ah, dramatics in the paper had me feeling quite out of sorts, and I feel that hearing such reasonable thoughts on the subject has gotten my feet back on solid ground, as it were."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Bertie gave a small chuckle. His mama had to remind him to eat too. He honestly didn't know what he would do without her.

"It was my pleasure!" he replied, with a wide smile, "I'm glad I could provide some assistance in helping you organise your thoughts on the matter. And thank you for providing me with some company while I complete my research. I find a small break and an interesting conversation can truly revitalise the mind. So thank you Miss- Oh I am truly sorry, I did not ask your name in return!"

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"Oh! Miss Binns," she supplied. "I don't think you have the blame for not asking, Mr. Aaldenberg. I've never been very good at remembering to introduce myself. That's another thing my mother would needle me about," she admitted with a grin. "'You'll never get a proposal, Juliana, if no one knows your name.' Well, I suppose she's right," she said with a pleasant shrug; she certainly didn't mind not being married, and she thought by this point in her life her mother had gotten over it, too.

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Bertie laughed. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Binns. And unfortunately I do believe it is the prerogative of all mothers to endlessly pester their children until they get married. And then I believe once one gets that far they begin pestering for grandchildren." As much as Bertie loved his mother - he did not need her endless comments about his marital status.

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