Professor Singh checked and double checked the list. He knew the name of every Gryffindor who had permission to Hogsmeade. Every one that had said they were going. They could not wrap them up in cotton wool. They would not. The students needed Hogsmeade weekends. They definitely needed this weekend. The castle could contain a lot. But raging teenage hormones around valentines day was a lot. No amount of meditation would solve it. Teenagers had crushes. They dated. They got jealous. They fell out. The house elves washed extra hankies.

Ravindar rolled up the scroll. It was cold. Cloudy. But dry! February gave rare mercy. Now all he needed was some company to go to Hogsmeade with. They agreed to take it in turns to be there. Just in case.

"Anyone with me?"

Zeta Pepper was. She was bundled up in a bulky stocking cap pulled over french-plaited red hair. Insulated leggings, fuzzy boots, a lime green peacoat, and a surly expression that made a weak attempt to hide she'd rather not be there. It wasn't a detention exactly, her Head of House was keen to tell her. It was an opportunity. An opportunity to show leadership, to back up her mouth with action, to give back to the community in ways that didn't involve her provoking confrontations with hasty judgments.

At least Professor Singh was one of the more patient of her teachers. He mostly let her be and she mostly kept civil in his Transfiguration class; she was fairly good at Transfiguration, actually, because it relied a great deal on visualization. As an artist, she was quite good at that. She could paint a detailed picture in her mind. That didn't mean she wanted to spend her Hogsmeade Saturday hanging out with him. She found him a bit dull. Very measured and difficult to get a rise from.

She raised her hand although she didn't need to. It was just the two of them.

"I'm here. Ready for a day of fun."

Professor Duerr untangled her scarf and set it comfortably around her neck again over her cloak. The weather always found some skin to nip at up here, she thought to herself as she placed one boot after the other on the steps at the edge of the courtyard. The great stone bowls of flowers either side of her were mostly full of deep green leaves, spring still asleep at Hogwarts. In the deepest shadow, frost lingered.

There were a few figures scattered around the courtyard. Some younger ones begging older students to acquire them things from Honeydukes, and the older ones in groups, mooning over each other. Naturally behaviour of late had been difficult! So much whispering and note passing. She was very glad her older classes were full of the more sensible sorts, but even they could not resist a bit of suggestive arithmetical analysis.

“Anyone with me?” Professor Singh asked up ahead. As ever, dressed impeccably. How on earth he did it, Professor Duerr would never know. The materials of his robes were always exquisite and far too good for wearing just to teach. Head of House salary was clearly much better than part-time, live-in Arithmancy teacher.

“I’m here. Ready for a day of fun.” Zeta Pepper, in striking lime-green coat, addressed the Head of Gryffindor. Her tone did not sound genuine, a little sulky even.

“Professor Singh,” Camille greeted politely, approaching her colleague calmly, “Miss Pepper.” She eyed the Hufflepuff with some confusion, unaware of what the Head of Hufflepuff had asked. She had arranged to walk down with Ravindar that morning, but she was unaware they would be chaperoning a sixth year. “Are you not going with friends, lieve?[1]”

1.	Common term of endearment in Dutch, equivalent to ‘dear’

"Miss Pepper." Professor Singh greeted. "I am glad to hear that." He liked to teach Zeta transfiguration. She had a good imagination. Here was Professor Duerr too. He liked the arithmancy teacher too. They spent time together. She spoke to Zeta. Asked a question.

"She is welcome with us Professor Duerr." said Professor Singh. "I thought to walk today. Get some exercise." Teachers could apparate beyond the gate to the village.

"I am enjoying an opportunity for leadership," Zeta replied overly sweetly to Professor Duerr. Zeta didn't take her class and so even though they both lived in Hogwarts, they didn't have much occasion to interact.

"My Head of House think I could benefit from experiences that don't include ... sass," she said after a moment. It would do SAWS no good for their fearless leader to further sully the club's reputation, although the club had done a perfectly fine job of that over the years. As long as Zeta didn't incite anyone to set a fire or stab people with forks, she thought, they should consider that a win.

Although Gwenna Trevelyan had bit someone. Which couldn't be pinned on SAWS. Zeta figured.

"What are we looking for on this walk?" she asked Professor Singh.

"Students" said Professor Singh. "The freedom of Hogsmeade comes with a little inconspicuous cost Miss Pepper." He gestured politely to the witches. "Shall we?"

The path down the castle hill wound itself down the steep slope. Professor Singh found it easy to navigate. As if he had done it every day of his life. His neat footsteps beat a steady rhythm. His turban set him apart from the others at a distance. Up ahead students ran or walked in groups. A procession. The gates knew who could pass. Boing! A second year found out the hard way. They landed on their bottom in the mud. An invisible force prevented them leaving.
"They never believe us." said Professor Singh. He smiled at Professor Duerr. "I think I had the same curiosity. When I was that age." It was easy to remember. When you were back at the castle as a teacher. "How do you find the first and second years Zeta?" Professor Singh asked. He had heard some of them joined Zeta's club.

Professor Duerr didn’t query further. Professor Singh perhaps knew something she wasn’t able to query openly before Zeta.

“My Head of House thinks I could benefit from experiences that don’t include… sass.” Oh, this was some kind of punishment. It seemed much more mild than the sorts cousin Ignan would dole out. Camille only hoped it wouldn’t become a sort of detention for herself and Ravindar. She so looked forward to a little adult conversation amongst days of teaching teenagers.

Professor Singh proposed they walk, and Camille said no more. She allowed her esteemed colleague to take the lead, since he knew Zeta all the better, and whatever this arrangement was. She fell into step just behind Zeta, effectively sandwiching the girl between them as they walked. Up ahead there was a minor commotion at the gate, and she shared a knowing smile with her fellow professor. Camille didn’t teach any of the youngest ones. They were unable to start Arithmancy until their third year.

“How do you find the first and second years Zeta?” Professor Singh asked. On Zeta’s other side, Professor Duerr adopted an equally interested expression.

Zeta was flanked in.

"Erratic," Zeta answered slowly after watching one such critter test the boundaries (both literally and figuratively). She didn't want to speak too harshly but they seemed to get younger every year and SAWS was really the first time she'd dealt with them in an unsupervised group outside the common room. In the common room, everyone mostly stuck to their own age group. But in SAWS they were all together.

"Adorable. Naive. Excitable. Dim. Bright. Handful. Hopeful. Shy. Loud."

Zeta rattled off a litany of descriptors becoming more thoughtful each time. She was aware that Professors Singh and Duerr would know all about dealing with children - they had to do it on the daily with mobs of them.

"I weep for the future," she said dryly.

"We all begin somewhere." Said Professor Singh. "You were once them. As I was. As Professor Duerr was. Only not those very gates." He opened his arms before them. It was strange for children to think adults had ever been children. Zeta was pretending to be old before her time today.

"To be at peace one must not do the three C's." He said. "We must not compare ourselves to others. We should be grateful for our lot in life and hold out complaints. The third is that we should not compete with others. A little aspiration is quite healthy but all consuming competition will only make a person unhappy." smiled Professor Singh. "This is what my father taught me in the Sikh religion. He reminded me of this when I came to Hogwarts as a young man." They passed through the gates.

Zeta’s response was a list of adjectives which would have tested Camille’s English, had English not been a mishmash of words borrowed from other languages. The Arithmancy professor allowed her more experienced and familiar colleague to lead the conversation, listening intently to the exchange.

“… You were once them. As I was. As Professor Duerr was. Only not those very gates.” Camille nodded thrice in quick succession to show her agreement. As a young girl with siblings - an older brother and a younger sister - Camille had felt excited to attend Beauxbatons in the smart sky blue uniform. If only Hogwarts had a climate as warm!

Ravindar took the opportunity to think of their greater wellbeing and approach to life, sharing a teaching from his beliefs. Long walks lended themselves to contemplation of philosophy or self-belief. Camille preferred sharing stories, given a choice. She felt out of her depth on debates of religion and similar, not confident she had read enough, lived enough or could eloquently put across an argument. It was one reason she adored mathematical calculations in arithmancy as a foundation for her argument.

“Wishful thinking,” Camille heard herself say,  unfiltered honesty from the Arithmancy professor for once! “What I mean to say is, we can … try… to this but it will be very hard.” Her gloved hand upturned and she looked across Zeta to meet her friend’s gaze. She very much did not want to offend her colleague. She was growing rather fond of Professor Singh's company.

“If we do not compare then Zeta would not have her werewolf club,” Camille gestured to the student sandwiched between them, aiming to include the girl in this conversation.

"As a Sikh I always try to follow the path of faith. This life is only one life in Samsara." Professor Singh said. "Samsara is the cycle of rebirth. Reincarnation. One strives to achieve union with God." He explained for Zeta. "Becoming closer to God requires hard work but it is good worthy work. But Professor Duerr and I are tempted to discuss at length. Perhaps not the time." He pressed his hands together like prayer. "Tell us about SAWS Zeta. How is your club?"

Zeta felt at once in two places. On one hand she felt suddenly very special to be on the brink of an important conversation about the nature of growth and existence with topics that were well above her head and that she was like Icarus. And on the other hand, she was ankle deep in cold and snow, with nothing smart to say in response to Professor Singh.

"It's not my club," she said as the gates closed slowly behind them. "I just took over from Fauna Blake, who I think took over from someone else."

Both Professor Duerr and Professor Singh were rather new at Hogwarts, so perhaps she should explain.

"I didn't start SAWS, right? It got started because Analiza Snark who was headmistress kicked a werewolf student out of school just for being a werewolf. She was in Hufflepuff, you know. People don't think Hufflepuff matters because we're not the smartest or the bravest or whatever, but we do show up when we're needed."

“… but Professor Duerr and I are tempted to discuss at length…”

Yes, normally they didn’t have a young charge walking between them. Not that Zeta wasn’t welcome.

“Tell us about SAWS Zeta. How is your club?”

Professor Duerr adjusted the collar of her coat, as if the cold air had got underneath her scarf at the mention of the werewolf support group.

“It’s not my club, I just took over…” Zeta protested. The Arithmancy professor focused on the path ahead, arms returning to her sides, but held a little more stiffly than before as she listened politely to the Hufflepuff’s explanation.

“It got started because Analiza Snark who was headmistress kicked a werewolf student out of school just for being a werewolf….”

“Madam Snark was in Hufflepuff?” Professor Duerr misunderstood. “She was the one… the one who vanished, yes?” Camille was sure Ignan had mentioned his previous superiors before. He’d outlasted most, as it was.

"Yes. I mean she did disappear." Professor Singh said. He did not think Analiza Snark could have been in Hufflepuff. She was not fondly remembered at Hogwarts. "Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses have not all been as far as Professor Greyfriar." Professor Singh said. "I did not mean to suggest you were founder Zeta. I mean you hold an active role. We all know you were the poster artist." One of the posters had even made it on the staff room board. It was a student club. "They are very good." Professor Singh smiled at Zeta. Supportively. Grier and Temple were in Gryffindor. He wanted to support them too. "What happens at your meetings?"

Zeta went a little wide-eyed when Camille misunderstood what she was saying, but Professor Singh saved it. She skipped over a puddle formed by a missing paving stone. Professor Singh then complimented her artwork and she didn't even try to hold back her pride in that.

"Thanks. It's sort of my thing."

Every cause needed compelling art. She rather liked provoking a reaction with her drawing, taking after dear old dad who had pioneered artistic provocation.

"We've only had one meeting so far," she explained. "And it was mostly getting set up. We came up with a strategy and our own rules for ourselves. Because the old leaders had left Hogwarts, we had to start from scratch a little. And it wouldn't have made sense to just continue on since things have changed in the last couple years. Our next meeting's already planned - we're having a guest speaker, Madam Ballentyne from the Ministry of Magic."

"She's an actual werewolf and I'm hoping she can vanish some of the myths. Some people really don't know anything."