Nightingale, was fighting fatigue. Everything in him was trying to force his way through the next lessons, and he knew like his students they were beyond ready to be home for a bit of a break--or at least not in classes. Today he sat in front of the class at his desk in a coat of arms, with his head down snoring into the heavy helmet that sat beside his head. The sound echoed through the room and made it seem more like a bear's cave than of a charms classroom, but could anyone blame him? The students were wild! After all the hype of Valentine's Day and of Hogsmead weekend, how could they focus on anything other than the parties they experienced or the new stories that were shared? Hell, he couldn't even keep them straight anymore.

Last night he was called to help attend a fight between a few of the second years, blood spilled with two boys scrapping over the honor of the first blow and between that and the horrible 5th year class (where many things blew up) he had spent most of his morning running up and down the stairs a few times trying to gather up his shrunken students from various mice in the castle. Brian Jacques would have written a novel about that class, he was certain about it.

Though the weather was still very cold out, he had promised his NEWT class that he would take them outside for weeks now, but when he asked them to dress warm for this class he certainly didn't mean to wear what he himself was wearing now. The armor was beautiful, though not his own, but instead of chain he wore leather--the breast plate and other various parts of the body clad in only the finest work. Work that he knew Avalon Roth would probably recognize almost instantly as his father was the smith who made it, but right now Knight in Shinning Armor battled only the sandman while waiting for his class to fill up.

---

You know the drill! Come in and take your seat. And I sure hope your students are dressed warm! Also, feel free to talk amongst yourself. Also, be careful for the sleeping bears. They come with pointy objects and foul tempers.

Zel was dreading Charms.

Specifically, he was dreading interacting with Professor Kesali.

In fact, ‘dreading’ was the nice way to put it. He dreaded it about as much as he enjoyed icy showers and asparagus. To be clear, he didn’t like either of those things all that much. That in and of itself should show how much he was absolutely dreading this class.

The werewolf had even considered skipping it—it was close to the full moon, and werewolves technically got to take the two days before and after the full moon to not go to class. However, Zelig knew that he couldn’t let last evening’s events dictate whether or not he went to class. He also would feel a tremendous amount of guilt for skipping class for non-werewolf reasons, even if he felt like a shaved cat—pathetic and irritable. The closer Zel got to the full moon, the more irritable he got—though he tried not to let it show. He kept those negative thoughts and feelings inside.  Harsh words had a tendency to sting longer than any physical wound ever could.

He shuffled into the classroom and sat at his usual seat—in the back of the classroom—slouching as if it would make him less noticeable. Today’s class was supposed to take them outside, so Zel had dressed warmly for the occasion—worn out scarf, gloves and all.

Jordyn actually really loved charms class.  Even a partner project with one Corey Gaubert could not dampen her love for the subject.  So, heading to class, she was happy to be going, despite the fact they’d been told to dress warmly.  That could really only mean they were going to be doing  something out of doors. 

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that piece of this lesson in particular, but she heeded the warning.  Bundling up with her scarf and hat, combined with her favorite gloves and boots, Jordyn went to the classroom, as she was instructed. 

Readjusting the little beret on her head (admittedly not the warmest of choices, but it matched), Jordyn sauntered through the door of the classroom and stopped short.  She would have greeted Professor Kesali, but he appeared… well… formidable (funny for him), and Jordyn scurried past – not wanting to disrupt him.
 
It appeared Zel was the only other person in class, and as much as Jordyn was… not going to be cruel, she didn’t necessarily want to sit next to him.  He always sat far too far in the back of the classroom, and Jordyn preferred to be near the front.  She situated herself to the right side of the classroom in a desk that was surrounded by others, but not too far from the front, and crossed her ankles under the desk.   

Glancing toward the door, Jordyn rested her elbow on the top of the desk and used her hand to prop up her head, stiffling a dainty little yawn as she waited for someone she was more friendly with to walk through the doors and occupy a seat near her: as her friends tended to do, since she was usually one of the first in class anyhow. 

Raine came striding into the Charms classroom, cheeks red from the cumulative heat of wearing knitted layers indoors.

"Professor," she murmured without particularly registering any surprise at his state- they were beyond that point by now - and made for the back of the classroom in feverish silence. Zel was there. Even this close to the full moon he wasn't the annoying sort, so she dropped into the closest seat.

Her quidditch scarf came off with a sigh of relief, and then the lambskin gloves.

"Salazar's Socks, it's warm. I want to get out of here," Raine complained, assuming of course that Kesali was much too knackered to listen. Snow was falling outdoors but it wasn't heavy. If anything, peaceful in spite of the winds.

The Gryffindor glanced at her classmate distractedly. "Looking forward to the strangeness?" she smiled at him encouragingly, hands reaching behind to tie back her hair. "Or afraid you're going to blend in with the snow?"

Looking none the worse for wear, Gracie dropped into the vacant spot on Zel’s other side, effectively sandwiching the Hufflepuff between herself and Raine. “A bit late for that, isn’t it?” she teased, arching a brow at their classmate’s paleness. The slight quirk at the corner of her mouth, though, took the sting– or at least, most of it –out from her tone. “Although you’re a bit too tall to be mistaken for any snowman.”

Sturdily dressed in a thick woolly sweater and a pair of mitten gloves to match, the Slytherin tugged at her scarf impatiently, just as keen as the others to put their outerwear to good use. Being warned to wear it had been incentive enough, as it wasn’t very often one got to go out for Charms, but being made to wait in the normally cozy warmth of indoors was stifling. Beneath her sweater and the smooth, buttery leather of her jacket, Gracie was uncomfortably aware of her blouse starting to stick to her back, and what was certainly the beginnings of an unattractive flush heating her cheeks; she was, understandably, a bit anxious for the lesson to begin.

(She shot a look of supreme irritation Theo Whitman’s way; not everyone could pull off Smugly Effortless Prat like him.)

“What do you suppose that’s for?” she asked no one in particular, once she turned her attention to the suit of armor displayed before them. It positively gleamed with the shine of quality, and she couldn’t help but wonder. “Animation, do you think?”

---

Fig was not far behind Gracie, and followed her to sit nearby Zel, Figaro's friend who least enjoyed being at the center of a knot of peers.  Besides, being flanked by Raine and Gracie? The poor sod probably needed rescuing. 

Up at the front of the room, their bizarre maestro was well - things were no longer super-shocking when it came to Professor Kesali.  Someday it was levitating swimming pools, others it was naps in knight's armor.  Maybe they could let him sleep the entire period and have a good chat without class getting in the way. 

(He said a cheery hello to Jordyn Dimbleby as he came in, of course. Jordyn was a-okay.)

He peeled off his hat as he took the seat in front of Mr. Trumble.

"Raine Almasy, smashing as always.  Make anyone cry yet today, Slant? Zel, found something for you.  Thought you might be craving."

From his bag, he passed a small bundle wrapped in a cloth napkin from the great hall.  Inside, Zel would find half a sausage.  Full moon was getting close. 

Zel ducked his head slightly as Jordyn walked in, as if it would somehow help him blend into his surroundings like a chameleon. Luckily, she didn’t sit near him. Not that he thought she would—she usually sat closer to the front.
Then, came Raine! His tired face lit up when he saw her, and shifted to give her more room to sit next to him.

“Actually… I’m hoping I will blend in with the snow.” He replied, “I look washed out enough for it, right?” He let out a weak laugh. Zel was trying to be funny, but his heart just wasn’t completely into it. The smile on his face immediately disapparated when Gracie sat next to him. What was this sorcery?! Was there an evil plot afoot? He moved around in his seat uncomfortably and leaned away from the Slytherin, as if she’d tear his heart out and eat it for dinner.

“Th-the armor?” He stuttered, “I think…” He thought it was because Gale was downright insane sometimes! But Zel shut his mouth when Figaro came in. He relaxed a bit more, until he realized he was practically surrounded. When, Zel thought, did he get so popular? Maybe Winnie was right, his manly werewolf dangerousness was drawing people in!  Oh gawd, he hoped she wasn’t right.

“Zel, found something for you.  Thought you might be craving.”

He could smell the sausage before Figaro had even taken it out- and it smelled amazing. Zel was definitely craving it—but he gave Figaro a suspicious look as he unwrapped it. “Thank you. But…A-are you saying this because I’m a werewolf, or because my family is German..?” He rewrapped the sausage and put it in the pocket of his robes. Zel had every intention of eating it as soon as class was over. Part of him wanted to resist that craving, as if it would somehow make him a bit more human.

Avalon, spent the better part of the morning nursing a little hang over from a small social gathering inside the common room, or at least that is what he was telling people. He wasn't in a particularly grand mood, but he couldn't really pin point what was turning his thoughts so sour. He didn't have anything against anyone, and certainly wasn't in any fights. Yet, he just couldn't get himself motivated for giving a damn, and upon walking in the room wasn't the first to wave to his friends. There wasn't anyone here he particularly wanted to speak to, not that he could of course, and with the horrid mood he was in he doubted he had enough will power to even scribble a hello.

With a strange look at their sleeping Professor he did a bit of a double take to check the helmet that Kesali had looked like he used as a pillow, and with his hands in his pockets made his way to the Professor's desk. He knew that design, like the back of his hands, as his father was a master craftsman. Picking up the helm he turned it over just to check, seeing that his father's signature was in fact engraved inside, and though he woke the Professor upon putting it back down Avalon took a seat up front for the first time the entire year.

Gale jumped a little when the helmet touched the table again, feeling the corner of his mouth pool with his own drool and his face hot with a blush. He really had fallen asleep hadn't he? With a glance to clock he realized that the class hadn't started just yet, but it certainly had started to fill up. He should have known Figaro's voice wasn't in fact the object of his nightmares, though most of the time it was, and gave a little stretch at best he could in the heavy coat of arms. Ugh, he should have just sent them all out, blinking sleepily he studied them with as much disgust as he was sure showed.

Nightingale, wasn't sure when he started to hate his job, but over the past week things really started to take a turn for the worse. He worried that he made a mistake leaving the ministry, and that he just wasn't cut out for this. With half the staff, and nearly all of the students thinking he was some crazy old bat he hadn't let it get to him until now. He knew he brought it on himself, but after what happened with Zel last night Gale was ready to pack his bags and just return to his little office at the Ministry. To say his feelings were hurt was an understatement, but he hadn't shed a tear. This sort of pain came with staying up all night pondering what it was he was even doing with his life, and counting up the list of recent failures. He'd stopped caring what the staff thought of him, they were all overstuffed peacocks with too many sticks up their behinds, but Zel's words had cut him through. He tried to keep in mind how close they were to the full moon, how upset the boy must be, and that he was in fact a teenager. But he hadn't tried to take the place of their father! If that were the case, Zel certainly wouldn't be raising his voice at him. It wasn't his business he knew, but he couldn't stand the way the other professors looked in on the children as just targets for their own failures in life.

Damned if he did and damned if he didn't, Gale could hardly even stand to look at them. Watch what you say, Nightingale, don't care about them, Nightingale. Look them in the eye, Nightingale, and demand their respect.

After last night's fiasco Gale had found the painting of Albus Dumbledore and sat beneath it for a few hours, knowing his old headmaster would have never ever let him go without shoes, but Gale would have never accused him of trying to take the place of his father, no matter how many times he had once wished it. He still felt so small when seated beneath the portraits of his old professors, and even Severus in his own way would have made sure they were all taken care of. He just didn't get it. He couldn't not care about them.

Ugh, what was he doing with his life.

"We are going outside today," He finally announced to the class, with absolutely not shits given in his voice, "If you didn't dress warm enough I suggest you return to your dorms and get something to put on. I didn't provide jackets today, because I'm not your freaking mothers. And I'll take away five points for every shiver as I warned you for a week about today's class." And with that there was still ten minutes until class started, and he could totally get to the staff room for a mug of coffee--even in the armor. Gale left to do just that.

---

Keeping talking amongst yourselves, I'll see if anyone else pops in before we begin.

"I thought you were Welsh," Figaro replied to Zel. 

But the Professor had awoken!  Figaro turned round to watch as Professor Kesali grumped and snapped at them about dressing warm, glaring at them the whole time.  And then... he left! He walked out of the room with a full set of armor still on, leaving the early-arriving students to just wonder what itching insect had crawled into his codpiece...

"What's up with him?"

Figaro should have probably known the answer, after having learned from Zel about the strange confrontation with Professor Kesali the day before.  But teachers were... teachers.  It was still difficult for Figaro to imagine that the adults in the castle had feelings and personal lives and weren't 100% focused on examinations and margins on essays.

At least they were going outside.

Jordyn was, frankly surprised when Gracie walked to the back of the room to sit with Trumble.  She knew that the other Slytherin girl had a wider range of friends from different houses, but Trumble?  It seemed so strange!

Then, adding Sellaphix to the mix, Jordyn was less than interested, though she did bid him the most polite greeting she could, everything considered.  She recalled a time when her prefect badge had been sitting rightfully on her lapel and she’d been involved with a certain situation that had Sellaphix locked in the girl’s loo in his pants.  Hard to forget. 

Turning her head back toward the door, she drummed her fingers on the desk, wondering if she should, perhaps, get a book or something to keep occupied, rather than look lonely and lame up at the front. 

When Avalon came in, Jordyn was surprised that he sat so close to the front – not far off from her, but the way he dropped into his seat and didn’t even have a ghost of a smile - or look awake, really, she just furrowed her brows at him.  Just because they weren’t the best of friends – or friends at all, really, didn’t mean she didn’t notice a distinct mood shift. 

Didn’t take a genius to notice Kesali’s mood shift as he woke up either.  Everyone had been being surprisingly quiet as they walked in, even the chatting in the back, so it couldn’t be that he was rudely roused from sleep.  He threatened them with taking off points for shivering and then walked out without so much as a polite hello or excuse him.  Jordyn blinked, again, and looked around the room.  “Do you suppose he’ll even come back?” she asked to no one in particular, just intensely perplexed by the whole thing. 

Corey was just slipping into the classroom as the Professor was slipping out, causing the Beauxbatons boy to flatten himself against the doorframe so as to allow the knightly ensemble go by.

He continued moving into the classroom just in time to hear Jordyn ask her question. Corey just shrugged, not really knowing much about the charms professor or what had caused him to leave.

Their recent project together both solved some mysteries about each other and created even more. The truth of it was that they might never end up on the same page but the French boy knew that there was still great fun in teasing her and getting her all flustered.

Grinning, he quipped, "Nice hat."

Then he purposely moved to the desks at the very front of the classroom and took a seat.

Raine unclasped the front of her house robes, wrenching them off as Kesali took his leave in the meantime. Latecomers had trickled in just as the Charms Professor was making his announcement and several of them scrambled to leave now- evidently underdressed for the weather.

"Haven't an idea-" the Gryffindor glanced at Figaro with an expression that mildly mirrored his confusion, not to mention Jordyn's bewilderment. "- I suppose even professors are allowed to throw tantrums."

Although the idea of Storm or Di Luca going moody on them sent a chill down her spine. Was Hogwarts safe, or did the faculty make it safe? She pressed her lips together dourly and looked at Zel. Days still until the full moon.

But she didn't want him to read that in her eyes. "Snow, armour, spells. What reason does he have not to come back?" Raine fiddled with her cardigans buttons, deciding not to continue stripping away layers. "And if he doesn't, we could always start a wild goo-- uh, Kesali hunt."

Knocking on doors, peeking under rugs.

Gale—it seemed like Zel’s harsh words had cut Gale to the core. Even though part of him was still so, so angry—the other felt disgusted with himself for being so cruel. But—he also found it disconcerting, how a teacher would let personal feelings get in the way of his work. He had always gotten the impression that if your mood was so foul that it affected your attitude at work, then you probably shouldn’t have worked today. Zel didn’t like thinking that he was the reason that Gale was in such a foul mood that he probably needed a sick day.

“Uh—yes.” He replied to Figaro distractedly, “I’m Welsh too. My mum’s Welsh. My dad’s German. I’ve lived in both Altotting and Cardiff.” Though, he hadn’t lived in  Germany since the Christmas before his first year at Hogwarts. He had visited some grandparents there a few years ago, but the travelling for holidays became a hassle over the years until it came to a halt.

He watched Gale leave and shook his head. “This class will be fun.” He muttered. He gave Raine a quizzical look. “I thought, professors weren’t supposed to throw tantrums? If there’s an issue, you should keep it to yourself. Deal with it among your friends and family. Don’t take it out on your work.” As Zel spoke, he realized how much like his father he sounded. And he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing? It didn’t have to be. A grey area thing that could go both ways. It simply was.

Zel thought the idea of going on a wild Kesali hunt would be rather amusing—but if they were going to have to go search for their teacher to get him to teach, then why did he bother showing up for class? Perhaps, he was taking things too literally.

With little reason to continue the decorum of sitting, Figaro stood from his seat and stretched his arms and back with a shameless groan.  He was already hungry for lunch, but that would have to wait until the outdoor Charm adventure.  He liked Charms well enough, but with lunch right after he was always a little antsy to get it over with.

He had to understand Zel's stern critique of Professor Kesali's personal coping habits, just considering what they'd talked about last night.  But personally, Figaro wasn't that bothered.  He'd long ago determined Professor Kesali to be a strange one.

Still standing, and not exactly using a quiet voice, he mused, "sometimes I think he's doing it on purpose, just to mess with our heads.  Keep us guessing.  I mean, who remembers last month - the indoor lake? Just an excuse to soak us to the bone, more like."

"What'll it be this time? Have us disarming armored knights?"  He looked then at Raine.  The pair of them had faced a knight, of a sort, in their TetraWizard Tournament task and fared...pretty well... by running away.