After the fourth years, Hagrid was feeling a little bit better and much more confident for classes today than the previous one. There was a swarm of NEWT students for the class--mostly foreign seventh years and many Hogwarts sixth years. It was relieving, at least.

Then with more confident and giant strides, Hagrid followed the same routine he used with the fourth years by taking the NEWT students into a little corner of the Forbidden Forest (possibly to quickly for some to keep up with.) He took the to a large clearing that he had found earlier, where there were minute traces of creatures scattered in the surrounding, but he stopped and turned to the students, blocking their view of anything with his massive height, wide form, and his long leather coat, still hanging off his shoulders and his tunic still sinched around his waist with a large belt.

"Fine afternoon," he said regarding the class, "Name's Professor Hagrid," he smoothed his beard for a moment as he caught the approving eye of Yang and then continued, as confidently as he could manage.

He cleared his throat and then removed a large clump of scrolls from his coat, and handed a stack of them to one student, "Sixth years' syllabus," he said, and then handed the next handful of scrolls to the next nearest student, "Seventh years' syllabus," he added again, "Hand them out, if you could." Hagrid straightened himself up again fidgeting with his fingers, before holding them behind his back, "I won't do too many classes with both years, different materials and different projects will be covered."

"However, assignments are generally the same. Sixth years will be focused on doing Creature Ancestry Projects--you know how creatures have evolved, fossils, all that neat stuff--just focus on one creature." Hagrid's deep grumble was as clear and concise as he could make it, but he mostly just wanted to be understood so as to move on with the class, "Seventh years will get to research a topic of their choice, confirm the topic with me, set up some tests and experiments, and do their own thing."

The magical creatures professor then moved his hands from out behind his back and rubbed them together excitedly, "Now I want to make sure you all know how to track and hunt down infestations, or just track down--don't really need to kill unless you talk to Professor Yang or myself." His deep voice then quickly rattled through some added details, "Anything you do get to kill can be kept and will learn how to treat them for potions and things, but for now let's figure out what you all are good with, yeah?" He gestured to a few students who seemed to have brought a growling and jumping leather bag, "Keep yer books closed and calm."

Hagrid stepped aside as he then gestured a large hand towards the grand empty clearing. There would have been more things hiding in it, but before school, Hagrid had argued with his creatures colleague on what big and lovable animal to let the NEWT students handle for the first day, but she wasn't having any of it. So all Hagrid now was this empty clearing to test the students with.

"Three creatures have been in this clearin' recently, one is still here," he said with amusement, "Identify each creature from what they left behind in the environment, and then find the one that's still here."

Beneath some dried leaves and hidden beneath some dry dirt, there was various trails of slime soaking into the ground, and with some small bits of bones scattered around them.

In another spot, hidden behind some bushes and a broken branch, some tree bark was scratched off a tree trunk, with the bare trunk marked with some faded carvings. And then, for those with an eye for detail, small bird pellets littered the far sides of the area.

And of course, the one creature of all three, that remained, was happily and silently snoozing in one of Hagrid's ridiculously large coat pockets--a detail that would require the students recognize which creature his tracks showed the most interest in.

"Go, on, look around," Hagrid gestured to the large clearing, once again.[1]

1.	Use the bestiary as a reference.

Living in close proximity to someone like Tayrn made Mace rather nonplussed about half-giants so meeting Hagrid was like meeting her uncle. It probably hadn't worked like that but he imagined the two could relate their life stories. He was more surprised that Professor Bai was putting up with him, though she always had a cool demeanor and elegance for what could be messy work. And work with Hagrid looked to be messy. Excellent, that made Mace happy that he hadn't bothered to press his uniform.

It was a nice day out for Mace was also wearing a tan colored fedora. A fedora decorated with plush pompoms: a few pygmy puffs in red, green, and purple. At a low register, they were warbling through a humming, matching the tuneless humming Mace sometimes did when his mind was wandering.

He took a 7th year syllabus and read it over. Tracking, journals, student picked projects. He wondered if he could linger a project with the Puffs, or if Professor Bai was going to warn against such actions. Having gotten the whole spectrum of colors down, he was thinking of trying to breed for patterns.

But the things of the moment first. They were encouraged to look around, find signs of animal activity. He wondered aimless, not bothered to rush through this task, enjoying himself. He picked up on the bird pellets right away. Small little clusters. It made him think of an Augurey, like the rare red Irish Phoenix that was a Hall mascot back home at Salem's.[1]

He motioned to someone nearby. "Oy! What do you know about poo?"

1.	mentioned here

Raven sighed happily as she followed Hagrid through the Forbidden Forest. It was one of the few times she could actually be in the forest and not get in trouble. All the other times... well, let's just say that if any the teachers found out exactly how much time she had spent out here and all the things she had done, she'd be in serious trouble.

Listening to Hagrid but not seeming to pay attention, her mismatched eyes scanned the small clearing that would serve as their "classroom" for the day. If there was something she loved, it was hands-on, outdoors work. Which is why she loved Care of Magical Creatures. As Hagrid gave his directions, she quickly pulled out a pad of paper and a ballpoint pen, one of the few muggle tools she preferred over magical.

As the group spread out, Raven found herself wandering toward the edge of the clearing, looking around for any sign of the creatures. Walking over some dried leaves, she was rather surprised when she heard the snapping of bones (don't ask how she knew that noise). Carefully, the Slytherin lifted up some of the leaves to find herself staring at trails of slime. Slime. Snails? An idea coming to her, she quickly scribbled some notes on her pad when her attention was grabbed by a young man she did not recognize. A Salem student, judging by the accent. With a small sigh, she walked over and looked at the small pile of avian droppings before her.

"Could be a number of creatures," She remarked, crouching down and looking at the dung. "Maybe a Jobberknoll. Or even a Diricawl or a Augurey."

Figaro, like most of his other classmates, had taken notice of the new Professor.  The talk about Professor Hagrid had flown around the commonroom all day - about how he was famous, how he was part Giant, even that he'd been to Azkaban.  And even the smarty-panstiest of Figaros' friends hadn't been able to refute any of it.  This new professor was apparently all that he seemed plus some extra.  There wasn't a lot to miss about the stingy, aloof, snarky Professor O Morain.  And with this wild new Professor, Figaro forgot O Morain even existed.

Figaro and his friends followed the giant teacher with the great shaggy head of hair into the Forest, talking excitedly and taking turns shoving each other into trees and low-hanging branches as they walked.  Among them were also the visiting students.  Even though many Hogwarts students had come up to visit when they first arrived over the summer, their novelty had not at all worn out.  Their different uniforms, ways of speaking, all of it made them different and interesting.

And, as teenagers do, they'd all more or less separated themselves into the old and familiar groups.


In the clearing, Figaro took the sixth year syllabus and tried to follow along somewhat.  It was the first of classes and so his mind certainly wasn't on diligent note-taking.  In any class, the first week or two were freebies anyway. 

So it was to be an investigation, eh?  When bidden by the huge hirsute professor, Figaro wandered forth.  The most obvious of the clues caught his eye and he clumped with other students around the tree whose bark had been scratched away.

"Probably a dragon scratching its arse..." he posited thoughtfully.

Xavier stayed to the back of the pack as they followed Professor Hagrid into the Forest. His head was hanging low and his hands were shoved in his pockets. He did his best not to show that he was shaking ever so slightly. While he was hoping the initial apprehension would pass Xavier was still exhibiting some post traumatic stress when it came to walking into the Forbidden Forest. While it was nothing like the Forest behind his Grandfather's estate and they were in broad daylight he couldn't help his reaction. His brush with death at the handing of a ravaging werewolf was enough to make the Slytherin terrified of a simple Care of Magical Creatures class.

Instead of focusing on his own issues Xavier turned his full attention to the new Professor. It wasn't hard to figure out who he was, between the rumors going around school and the stories he remembered Berkeley telling him, Hagrid was practically a household name to him and most wizarding kids. So far things were looking good, at least Hagrid didn't look the type to hex their students just to emasculate them.

Instead of looking around the clearing like his classmates were doing Xavier had his back pressed tight against a tree. While to others it simply looked like the surly Slytherin was slacking off, the way his grey blue eyes darted around at every little noise that was made told another story.

He chuckled at Fig, "Yea, probably one sufferin from scragglebutt."

Ollie felt like she was craning her neck staring up at the large Professor, but she also felt the need to focus on the Professor as it was only polite. She was excited to be out in the field, looking at creatures and being actively involved. Admittedly it could get rather boring just sitting in a classroom all day long. Though to some degree she might have actually enjoyed sitting in class today, feeling a little stiff. She also felt the rumble in her stomach that signified she was getting hungry again. Then again when wasn't she ready and willing to eat?

"Oi! Be logical Figgy." She smacked him back the head and smirked at him. "And don't say arse." Ollie stuck out her tongue at her friend. "Do you really think a dragon would scratch its butt against a tree?" She laughed and shook her head, completely disregarding the fact a dragon in these parts was going to be unheard of.  She watched as a few of the students started examining a few things and inched a little closer to Fig. "When did people get so serious? Isn't it obvious the claw marks are from big ol' bad me." She whispered at him with a chuckle. She then decided to get about actually doing a spot of work.

"Wonder if it was a flesh-eating slug?" She mused loudly as she took a look at the slime. She walked forward half tempted to drag Fig along and making him participate properly, but it was early days yet to need to pull that card. Ollie was tempted to get out her book and see if she could find the answer but he had said keep the books calm. Though after the incident ^[1]during buying the product she wasn't surprised. But she thought she had figured it out, she had become one with the book.

(Bird Pellets [Poop])
As soon as Hagrid caught sight of Milton, the purple Salem student, and his rambunctious hat, he procured a pink umbrella from within his coat and shot a immobilus spell at the thing. It was instantly silenced and the creatures on it froze, as Hagrid smiled proudly to himself. It felt good being able to properly cast magic. Then, the professor hooked the tip of his umbrella under the rim of the boy's hat and lifted it off his head, "Don't bring potential snacks to class, lad."

Then, when Raven Whitman, clad in Slytherin green spoke up, Hagrid gave a rumbling hum while looming over the pair of students, "You have obviously never seen a large plop of Augurey dung," The droppings were rather small, smaller than quarter-sized in diameter,"Or the bird has been having some bowel problems."

"Go on then," Hagrid pointed around the field with the tan fedora, with his pink umbrella once again at his side. "Use the distance between each dropping as clue to the creature's behavior." And maybe if they were brave enough to pick the dry turds apart with sticks they'd deduce the creature was mostly an herbivore.

(Slime & Bones)
Then Hagrid carried himself over to a few Hufflepuffs and another Slytherin, it seemed that Salazaar's house was much more social nowadays. Maybe one would even work with a Gryffindor without earning  a detention!

"Figgy" was an interesting name for someone, but Hagrid took note of it none the less, and the Hufflepuff witch's answer, "And a good thing to wonder, lass!" the half-giant answered proudly, "Three points to Hufflepuff!"

Then he turned to the two students meandering about the trunk of the tree.

(Bare Trunk & Partial Carvings)
"No... Figgy," he said the name with a slow lurch of curious hesistation, "Dragons prefer to scratch their arse-er rears, against mountainsides and caves," and then he gave a deep snicker a his Slytherin companion, "And scagglebutt does sound a load better than 'chafing'."

"Oh..." the giant distractedly turned back towards the Hufflepuff girl again, leaning down to speak to her, "What was your name?"

Huck was having difficulty keeping pace with the rest of the group, which is why he was glad Xav was choosing to hang back anyway. His knee popped painfully most every step he took, and every log or pile of brush he had to step over turned his face ghostly white. Mentally he cursed his situation. At heart, Huck was an outdoorsman. Well, in as much as he liked to play sports and bring girls to the woods to get drunk and make out. He suspected it'd be at least a month before he got so much as a peck on the cheek in a non-platonic way, as he fancied himself to still look like a bowl of hamburger.

He chose to stand with his arms folded near the tree with the scratched-off bark, trying to make it look like he wasn't doing his best to not put weight on his right leg but failing, at least in his mind. Even so, he giggled like a little boy at Fig and Xav, and added, "Can't teach a dragon naught 'bout proper wiping habits."

Squinting into the woods, he found himself smirking like his old self. "How many pinecones d'yis think I could peg Brainsdaughter with 'fore she figures it out?"

A loud hooting (hooting?? moaning? growling? he wasn't too good at telling anymore) noise nearby caused him to leap nearly out of his skin, and he took a few unwitting steps closer to Xavier, who looked nearly ten times more squirrely than himself. There, he muttered swear words under his breath about birds, and how bleedin' stupid they were, and would he get in trouble if he were to accidentally blast one out of the sky.

Sophie had hovered at Ollie's side, trying not to fret too much over her silently. Having spent the summer together she was acutely aware of Oll's pain cycle when the moon waxed and waned. Of course the other girl wanted to be treated like everyone else so Sophie couldn't even be obvious in her fussing. Worrying about the Hufflepuff made it hard to get really excited about being taught by the Rubeus Hagrid. Also, the fact Huck was limping about looking like death and a certain aura Xavier was giving off made it all very hard for the petite Gryfindor to concentrate. Forcing herself to focus she lingered near the tree, head tilted to one side as she chewed her bottom lip.

She mostly rolled her eyes at Fig, though it was hard not to giggle when Hagrid called him Figgy. She really hoped that name took off this term. Leaning in close she tried to decide if the carvings were deliberate or if, they were more like digging scratches, searching for something. Righting herself, and then craning her neck to try and look the half-giant in the eye she raised her hand a little awkwardly (the whole being short thing became more bothersome by the day), "A Bowtruckle? I know they're small and not really native to this part of the country, but they might be able to survive if you brought them in for the lesson, and they leave marks behind - a bit like Woodpeckers, from digging out woodlice".

Ligeia was positively radiant about Creature classes with Hagrid, although this might have been more to do with the concentrated sunscreen potion she wore that made her skin glisten. She had her parasol open and a red skinned, horny Monster Book that was already growing more spines because of the all the notes on dangerous creatures Uncle Griffon had told her about she was using for cross reference.

To her, this was the most adorable book ever. It was like having a second pet, only you didn't have to feed it anything but information. Speaking of pets during the walk to class Buzzard had flocked to her shoulder the moment she stepped out of the castle although at the clearing he had gone off to perch atop a tall tree, where he could watch the proceedings below with sardonic vulture amusement.

Sticking to the shade of the trees and her parasol, Ligeia had been attracted to the slime trail and bones in an instant. It was very hard to pass off a bone that wouldn't trigger her radar like ability to spot them.

She gushed when Olivia offered a suggestion and Hagrid proved it was the right path with the awarding of points. "Oh, that's even better than what I was thinking! I wondered if it was a Streeler trail at first, but its slime is so venomous that it kills the vegetation it crawls across. Plus they're native to Africa," she added, which should have been her first evidence against a supposed Streeler besides the fact that the grass around the slime trial hadn't shriveled up dead.

"Does anyone have some raw meat we could lure it out with?" If they were lucky that might also attract a thestral.

One—and only one—crimson clad Durmstrang form stood amongst the students.  She wore the sporting uniform of her school, charmed expertly to keep from showing any dirt and a bit more practical for outside classwork than the opulent skirts. An intern dragonkeeper for several years and the heir presumptive to a Dragon Sanctuary, it wasn't prejudice that made Vladlena doubt there would be much to learn that was applicable to her future from the Hogwarts creatures curriculum—it was simple experience. But her arrogance was not without temperance—to be confident was encouraged, to be overly so was idiocy that Lena had neither the time nor inclination towards. So she was here, the lone tangibles student who deemed the international curriculum worth pursuing. A broadening of horizons was necessary for one to be well rounded.

As Professor Hagrid began his explanations, it occurred to Vladlena that while visual observations were useful, the most expedient method to solve the puzzle would be to use her…well, animal ones. There was a slow shift, and the tall, quiet girl in the back of the crowd was no longer there. Instead, a fluffy, slightly larger than cat-sized Arctic fox was in her place.

If she'd still been human, she would have covered her ears and plugged her nose. The tall-man reeked of scents. Prey scents. Predator scents. It was so overwhelming that Vladlena had to struggle to stay in the transformed state and not revert to her more natural form to flee the onslaught of odor. The sound was high-pitched, as brutal as a whistle on the oversensitive canid ears. Gritting her teeth—which made her fox teeth snarl in a silent growl, Lena set about to identifying  smells that did not come from their professor. Following her nose, she darted through the legs of a student[1] in front of her to the farthest of scents—the bird droppings—figuring that would be her safest bet to avoid being trampled. And—curious. She sniffed the bird pellets, memorizing the scent and realizing she could smell it somewhere else. Almost buried by so many other scents, but stronger than it was here in spite of it. The small, furry head snapped up, and the human inside of it sighed. She was going to have to get closer to all those…smells. A quick dart back towards the professor and Lena jumped up to land nimbly on the shoulder of another student[2] who was a bit closer to the Professor. The creature that was 'still here' was there. Her form was too small to reach his pockets but on her new perch—yes. Unmistakable. She craned forward, sniffing, listening, and absolutely certain.

Unable to bear the barricade of smells, and satisfied that she had satisfied at least one puzzle, Vladlena leapt gracefully down from the borrowed shoulder and in the process, straightened into her human-shaped self to quietly, politely address the admittedly creative professor. "Creature still here," She said, "In my language, we say Pobedakulak. Yes?"

1.	Yours?
2.	Also open Also, this was all cleared with Zayzie! <3

Wait.  Figgy?  Aw, hell.  Figaro let a great many things roll off his back.  He was a resiliant, unflappable lad.  Always had been.  But he couldn't stand that nickname.  He pursed his lips when Olivia used it - she was king of allowed since she was one of his best friends and he knew if he asked she'd never use it again.  But then the Professor used it!  His jaw dropped in surprise.  C'mon!

Sophie snickered and Figaro shot her a pleading glare.  This could not persist.  He was a sixth year now.  This was going to be his year! And he could not go through it as 'Figgy'.  Good god, he cringed just thinking about it.  It had been a childhood nickname before Hogwarts, one that he'd always hotly protested.  Of everyone at Hogwarts, perhaps only Xavier Tawse would have heard it before since they were lads together. 

He sighed and tried not to make a fuss about it.  As an expert piss-taker he knew that the worse thing he could do would be to protest too much over it. 

But hey! Olivia'd earned points for Hufflepuff!  "Keep it up, Ollie.  Get a head start on me and maybe we'll end up with positive points."  Figaro had been the most losing-est student so far as House Points last year.  It was a mark of pride.

And he could hear Ligeia wondering if anyone had any raw meat on them.  Honestly? Who carried around raw meat? Speaking of raw meat...

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Huck had joined them.  Figaro couldn't help but hiss at him.  "Bloody hell, man.  You fall off a broom?"


With all this going on, it was difficult to focus on the task at hand and he hadn't made any progress discovering what critters might have been planted in the clearing.  Professor Hagrid seemed like a casual professor - not one to keep discipline.  Figaro was going to have a very fun time this year, at this rate, and a very bad time at NEWTs come his seventh year.

There was so much going on that the easily distracted Élodie… got distracted! First the syllabus (she didn’t expect that class to have no theory at all, but still she couldn’t avoid frown in front of it), then the strange fedora decorated with… fluffy humming things. Why would someone wear that? She stared at Mace trying to figure out if that was some strange part of the class, since that seemed to be creatures, but then the half-giant professor silenced the fedora and took it away. With a pink umbrella. A pink umbrella… really. That was the most amusing class she ever attended, causing her to giggle, but quickly Lola covered her mouth trying to disguise it, making it sound more like a cough.

She couldn’t get everything people were saying around her. Her English was ok, she was trying, but that was all. So watching the students talking and reacting to each other was much more interesting than follow some slime’s path. Lola was already working hard not to mind that thing sticking on her shoes.

All that distraction was over when the very white lady, Ligeia, spoke about raw meat. That didn’t sound well to Lola’s ears, what if they’re dealing with an anthropophagic creature? They were on a Forbidden Forest, that professor suddenly become suspicious to her, and, well… speaking of, she was just too close of him now. But when she drew a movement to go where the injured and the pretty guy were, a little more distant than the others, something heavier than a cat suddenly jumped on her shoulder.

If her blood didn’t run cold Lola would have screamed. Was it the creature? Was it anthropophagic? Would it eat everyone starting from her? She slowly moved her eyes to the… thing. And the thing was whiter than Ligeia and fluffier than Mace’s fedora. Ok, that couldn’t be dangerous, right? When she moved her eyes to Hagrid to silently ask for help, the thing jumped back on the ground and revealed to be an animagus… and the witch was just too snob to even gesture her an apologize for not only scare her to death, but also mess up with her uniform with those dirty paws.

“Congratulations on your discovery…” Élodie said to her, part friendly, part cynic, the kind of tone usually only women could perceive; while taking her wand to try to clean her shoulder. “You could have been just a little smoother but ça va… No problem.”

As ill-equipped as Vladlena was to interpret tonalities, there was one note in particular that—thanks to several years of being friends and peers with the diplomatic, fangs-beneath-velvet-tongue Magdalena—resonated in such a way as to chill her spine. Oh dear. Somehow, she had managed to offend someone already. She had noticed that this tended to happen more with outsiders than with her Durmstrang peers, who demanded no apologies and trampled eachother equally unless they were proving their rank. Used to an atmosphere were any advantage was to be exploited, and students were used to being a bit rough-housed, Vladlena failed to see what had put that familiar, delicately disguised note in Lola's voice. Her face was coolly impassive for just a moment, but she was not a girl who liked to make mistakes, and she scanned the past few moments swiftly in her mind.

What could it be?

Ah yes! She had, in her moments where fox instinct—quick, spontaneous, pouncing hunting instinct—was still present in the human mind, blurted out her thoughts like a fool, instead of properly waiting to be called on. Her muted but horrified dismay, genuine, for this truly was how Vladlena's mind worked, settled on her features. Oh! Such blatant disrespect for her peers and professor would have been dealt with most harshly at Durmstrang. She could only assume Professor Hagrid had taken pity on her foreign nature and assumed such ghastly impudence was the norm and she did not know better, a thought that was as galling as it was chilling. The fact that the Hogwarts students were behaving as such—well, their influences could not be so stringent, and that was no excuse for her to follow their path. She dropped her hands, palms to the sky, to the girl—much smaller from this angle than she had been looking up through dark, fur-rimmed eyes—in a gesture of peace. "Moi izvineniya. My apologies. I vwas most rude." Durmstrang students did not offer excuses when they did ill, so Vladlena did not attempt to explain that her perceived blunder had occurred due to residual animal instincts.

Which was probably for the best, given that it wasn't the least what Élodie was actually upset about.

After the Hufflepuff's answer, suddenly a white-haired Ravenclaw spoke up and raved about meat and luring out a creature, "Oy wait a sec miss, uh--" Hagrid quickly brushed off the fact he didn't know anyone's names yet, so he went on to correct the girl, "we won't be feeding anything out here unless I say so. Otherwise we might get an unpleasant surprise," then he held up the tan fedora covered in puffskins, "So no food, snacks, or drinks without talkin' to me."

(Bare Trunk and Partial Carvings)
Then Hagrid put the hat in his pocket, the same large pocket he was keeping one of the creatures. There was a moment of a light rolling buzz of a noise before Hagrid adjusted his pocket and the hat. It was hardly audible unless one was standing close enough to the half-giant, but apparently one of the other Slytherins heard it.

It was a boy who looked like he went through a meat grinder the other, and nearly launched himself into another student at the noise. "Jumpy, aren't ya'?" he said, raisy a black scruffy eyebrow at the boy.

Then a Gryffindor spoke up with an answer, "Nah," he said to Sophie, "Bowtruckles use the trees as camouflage an' pick critters from it. Tearing bark off of one spot on a trunk and then drawin' on it don't do them much good. Much more deliberate than somethin' with claws."
 
(Bird Pellets [Poop])]
Suddenly there was a white fuzzball of a fox sniffing at his pocket, sitting on the shoulders of a Beauxbatons girl; but after a moment of sniffing it immediately dropped onto the forest floor and changed into a Durmstrang student. "Oh, good trick," Hagrid's low voice mused from above the student.

But then the Beauxbatons girl voiced her concern about Vladlena's method, "Ah yeah," Hagrid conceived with a downhearted grumble, but his voice perked up a little at his own good solution, "Try climbin' on a Gryffindor's shoulder next time." He smiled before he realized that he almost forgot about the Russian witch's answer.

"Oh," Hagrid looked down at the Russian girl again. Pobedakulak. It was a mish mash of two Russian words that any wizarding fan of the WWN would know if they had spent some time in the country, magizoologist or not. Of course after travelling the world and working with various creatures one became accustomed to the various names given to different creatures, and so knew exactly what the Russian witch said, "Yes, that's right. Be careful about shiftin' in class though, yer a little small not to be on somethin's menu." At least in Hagrid's opinion, especially with all the creatures he'd like the students to handle.

Then Hagrid began to look around to see if anyone had picked up on what the girl had done, or heard what she just said, before he decided to draw attention to the detail himself.