Just after dinner, in the staff room.

Felinus's second trip from Saint Mungo's to Hogwarts had been a long and tiring one, made no easier by the logistical troubles of transporting a lion on a passenger train. A light rain started up on his walk from Hogsmeade station, leaving a damp trail all down his spine that absolutely ruining his mane.

His trunk, filled with the remains of his human life, had already been delivered to his new quarters in the Caretaker's office, which Felinus could not yet enter because he did not possess the key. Thus, with the handle-less push-broom still strapped to his shoulders, he'd headed straight for the staff room, where he'd been instructed to meet a fellow staff member and receive the object along with basic instructions for his first few days of work.

He shook the snow from his mane before mumbling the password and nudging the staff room door open with his nose. He stuck his head in first, to avoid startling anyone, but the room seemed empty. He padded inside and cleared his throat. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

There was no response. Apparently, they were all still at dinner. Felinus paced the room for a restless moment before giving up. At least the chamber was warm, heated by a pleasant fire that was no doubt the work of a dedicated house elf. Felius settled on the carpet in front of the hearth, restlessly grooming the water from his mane and paws. Once the worst of it was gone, he stretched out on his stomach so the fire's warmth could dry the rest. The warmth coaxed a contented purr from deep in his chest. If nothing else, at least his wait would be warm.

His resolve to stay awake lasted a full five minutes. By the time someone else entered the staff room, Felinus was fast asleep.

Nightingale, in his attempts to avoid the rest of the staff ducked in early to have his dinner alone. With the buzz of midterms and the weekend close, tensions were high, and he was rather looking forward to a little bit of alone time. With his nose down in his book he slipped a bit of his dinner, mixed greens and cornbread, past his pale lips before turning the page. He wasn't watching where he was walking, nor was he too concerned with running into anything. All he could think about was the oversized chair by the warm fire in the Staff Room that smelled strangely like home.

In his solitude he hadn't the chance to even be aware that they hired someone new, nor that the someone wasn't human. Maker, he'd hardly been able to keep up with his own life in attempts at preparations for the Yule Ball, and now with the students stressing about finals he'd had to break up a breakdown nearly every night now.

Friday. It was Friday, and he could go see his beloved boyfriend after he took his turn with the children, but for now Gale was content to simply sneak away to finish his rather trashy muggle novel. However, upon the rug there lay a beast, a sleeping lion, and though he should have simply chuckled lightly at his imagination there was something very real about that lion. His blood went cold, his body froze, and his dinner fell from his fingers. Now, all he had to do was get to his knife.

Oblivious to the Charms professor's entrance, Felinus rolled over in his sleep, stretching out on his side with limbs extended to expose all of his stomach to the warmth of the fire. He yawned, showing off a full set of sharp teeth and a rather impressive pair of tonsils. The sound, which used the same part of his lungs as a roar, carried much further than a human might have expected and rumbled in a much lower register.

After a moment, his sharp nose picked up something that connected with him even through the veil of sleep: Food. Soft bread, thick with the juices of other dishes. House-elf cooking. Real food. He sniffed after it, coming out of his stupor. His muzzle wrinkled with the effort, pulling his head closer to the man and his fallen food.

Without opening his eyes, Felinus's four paws slid under him, pulling him a few long, lazy steps closer to the sort of the smell. He sniffed along the path of the stone floor, blinking the laziness from his eyes. His stomach growled. He'd not eaten all day. It was only a nibble and already on the floor, but oh, how he wanted it.

A body's length from Nightingale, he stopped, finally noticing the pair of shoes behind his desired meal. He lifted his head, slowly, and blinked at the stranger with dark, wild eyes. He cleared his throat. "Are you finished with that?"

He shouldn't have been surprised at a talking Lion, especially a talking lion at Hogwarts. However, it had been a long week, and Gale hadn't had much to eat that day. A wave of dizziness passed over him and the world went black, but he didn't fall.

"N-no...go ahead, it's all yours." He sat down the rest of it, and put his head down in his hands. Was he going crazy? Was that it? He had to be, and quickly turned to take a seat by the fire so that he could simply stare. Did he talk back? It did talk.

"I--I'm sorry, are you a student?"

The door bumped open and Sissel coasted into the room, doormat set to just a few inches off the ground. He wasn't primarily focused on where he was going, his hands holding a small memo pad as he was making notes on time. It was a habit not easily lost when one's previous career required strict memory of what the day was like.

As such, when he perfectly executed the maneuver of flopping off the doormat, which dropped flat on the floor, to crash into sitting position in a chair, Sissel did not yet notice everyone and everything in the room. Until he did look up and noticed Kesali with Sissel's own alumnus mascot.

"I thought Flitwick was kidding with his story about buffalos to the chest," Sissel said, shutting the notepad, "but what misspell conjures up a lion out of nowhere?"

Felinus's eyes lit up. Without noticing how the pale professor grew even paler, Felinus closed the minimal gap between himself and the fallen food, snapping it up from the ground. The morsel wasn't even a mouthful, but its sweet taste burst delightfully across a tongue that hadn't eaten properly since St. Mungo's. A rumbling purr rose from deep in his chest as he rolled the food around his mouth, savoring every second of its flavor.

The pale professor made it to chair by the fire, still staring at him wearily. "I--I'm sorry, are you a student?"

Felinus chuckled, not unkindly, and swallowed his food before speaking. "Not for some time, sir. Allow me to introduce myself. I am --"

But his introduction was interrupted by the appearance of another young person -- too old to be a student, but with such a baby face and fashion sense that it was hard to tell -- who buzzed across the floor on a doormat, of all things, and promptly tumbled into another chair. The color commentary from the newcomer turned Felinus's purr into a momentary growl.

"I am not a conjuration. I am your new caretaker, Felinus Woodward." His returned to his place before the fire, brushing deliberately against the pale one's chair as he passed by. Really, the fellow just needed to calm down. Felnius may have looked a beast, but his heart was still a man's.

Felinus settled on his haunches with his back to the fire, giving the two professors a moment to introduce themselves before his gaze came to rest on the doormat-rider. "Your face is familiar. It seems to me we may have met. Were you a Gryffindor?"

It speaks!

Now, talking animals weren't that much of a surprise in the magical world. Certain frogs, weasel-ferret things and monstrous spiders could all learn human speech. None of those things got appointed to the staff.

"Woodward?" Sissel mused about the same time the lion appeared to recognize him. It couldn't be that Woodward in an older grade than he? The guy who rivaled Trishna those days in height and needing to shave and there was a few years between them.

"Ah, Felinus Wooward!" Sissel said with familiarity. "Sissel Jowd. You know, used to be on the quidditch team before Potter showed up. Dated Primmy Claggin." Godric's socks that had bee a mistake. "They've got me teaching History of Magic now, of all things. So, you obviously got your animagus ambition down, eh?"

The name sounded familiar, but Gale's memory failed him often of his time in school. He blamed his healers after the war, and now simply sat back to allow the two...men...lion...man to speak. With a smile to Sissel, he was thankful that the other wizard asked before he did, and quoted the Lion King in his head.

Ah yes, Jowd. Felinus nodded sagely as the name rang a bell. Bright for a Gryffindor and not purposefully a rule-breaker, most of the time, but always somewhat preoccupied. And not bad on a broom, which was always good for house morale. Good to see he'd managed to keep his head, though how he'd gotten the History of Magic job was a tale Felinus would have to hear someday.

"So, you obviously got your animagus ambition down, eh?"

One ear twitched. Not for the first or last time, Felinus missed the expressiveness of a human face. A deadpan stared didn't have quite the same effect coming from a lion. "Obviously," he muttered, carefully picking out his next words through the displeasure. According to the school hierarchy, he was below teachers on the chain of command, but far be it if he was going to have a former underclassman assume he'd simply mucked up the transfiguration.

"I attempted to create a technique that would allow wizards to speak in their animagical form. As you can clearly hear, I succeeded. Unfortunately, I then found myself unable to turn back. It took Saint Mungo's six years before they gave up trying." He rolled his shoulders in a lazy stretch, settling comfortably on the carpet with his head resting on his forelegs. "Still, History of Magic. And at only...what, thirty-five? Good on you, Jowd. Good on you..."

His gaze drifted to the pale man. Speaking of young teachers, he seemed to have the opposite problem to Jowd -- the white hair and patch made him look older, but his face was young.  Felinus inclined his head in the professor's direction, assuming neither man had his office key in their pocket and that it was best to get the introductions out of the way before continuing their reminisce of old school days. "Begging your pardon, sir. You are?"

Felinus had created his own Transfiguration method to speak in his animagus form. "Sweet!" was the only comment Sissel had. In his days working in conjunction with the Department of Mysteries Sissel had heard of a bit of research or two into variations of the Animagus ability. Trying to talk in animal form as Felinus had done, or trying to into magical creatures instead of 'plain' animals. "I always wondered why an animagus couldn't talk in animal form. It seems like something that should fit, being the animal in question is really a witch or wizard. I used to think McGonagall just played silent whenever she was demonstrating the ability in class so we wouldn't be distracted by being lectured by a tabby."

In short, Sissel found this to be terrif. The kids would absolutely love this. Sissel would have much taken a lion as caretaker over Argus Filch any day. A sedate troll would have been preferable to Filch.

"Had some good character references," Sissel replied to the notice of his age and new career. It helped that his former boss Jacqueline Lumpkin had been a History teacher too before settling back in with the Time Travel Investigation and Regulation Bureau.

Sissel could have played host with introductions but he figured it was better for Gale to introduce himself. The Charms professor was gaining a reputation for frequent personality shifts, currently exhibiting 'mouse mode' at the sight of a great lion in the teacher's lounge.

It took him a few moments to realize they were waiting on his reply, and Gale looked to Sissel a moment before looking back at the lion. Were they insane? Their logic seemed sound, it was perfectly acceptable to use the spell, but to get stuck? What sort of life must that be? Did he have to learn to write again? What about affection? Did he eat enough?

When it became clear Sissel wasn't going to introduce him, Gale ran a nervous hand through his hair to clear it from one shoulder and claiming it all on the next so that way he could braid the ends quietly,

"Charms." He said with a squeak, but cleared his throat to continue, "I teach Charms. Nightingale, friends call me Gale." He'd leave off the part he didn't have very many, and how most of the adults around here just called him by his last name because it was the 'formal' thing to do.

"Is there...something I can get you? Perhaps from the kitchen? I have more biscuits in my office if it would please you?" Still fingering the ends of his hair he looked back to Sissel, "And you as well. Tea and a cake perhaps?"