Professor Singh listened with care. It mattered what Zeta said. He was impressed they had a visitor.
"What myths have you heard?" Professor Singh asked.

He was not a werewolf expert. He was prepared to learn something new. He had read more lately. He wanted to help Grier and Temple. The Sikh Scripture Adi Granth said On the day of the full moon, the full moon fills the heavens. Its power is diffused through its gentle light. In the beginning, in the end, and in the middle, God remains firm and steady. The birth of Guru Nanak Devji, the founder of Sikhism and first guru, is celebrated on a full moon day of kartik month. Professor Singh was unsure how werewolves fitted into his religion. He was optimistic further study and meditation would enlighten him.

Zeta should have known she'd be asked for examples and she suddenly felt like she'd been spacing off in class and asked a question she didn't know the answer to. Of course she wasn't in class and Professor Singh was just interested. She bit her lip trying to think of an example.

"Well, like, some people think that werewolves are, like, literal dogs when they're on a full moon. Like that they get fleas or are going to chase cats? Like what the hell? Obviously not but, kids, right?"

She let a puff of air out of her cheeks, her breath condensing in the cold air.  Then something occurred to her.

"Did you have werewolves at school when you were at Hogwarts?"

"I believe it possible." Said Professor Singh. "We did not speak openly about it." There had been a younger boy in Gryffindor. His brother was killed by a werewolf. Evans. There was rumor he was turned too. Ravindar had never spoken to him. "In the war many of them sided with Voldemort. People feared them. It is a way to recover." Professor Singh was serious. "What about where you grew up? Professor Duerr?"

Professor Singh was gracious in his explanation at the misunderstanding to both witches. He took an active interest in Zeta’s involvement with SAWS, while Professor Duerr fell quiet the other side of the red-headed witch.

“… we’re having a guest speaker, Madam Ballentyne from the Ministry of Magic…” Zeta explained. Camille did not recognise the name, it was not the lady who had come to speak to her husband when he was recovering from his injuries in St Mungo’s hospital. “… She’s an actual werewolf and I’m hoping she can vanish some of the myths…”

Myths? People made up additional false information about the terrible form these people took? Since meeting Hannah Bombay as Johann’s once-fiancée, and the extraordinary events which followed, Camille found she feared werewolves and wanted to keep her distance. She had seen how it could change a person.

“Did you have werewolves at school when you were at Hogwarts?”
“I believe it possible. We did not speak openly about it. In the war…” Professor Duerr and avoided glancing over, feeling she preferred to be a silent party in all of this.

“What about where you grew up? Professor Duerr?” Of course he would invite her back into the conversation. Ravindar was ever so polite.

“Me?” She asked, stalling just to gather her thoughts, “I .. we did not have any at Beauxbatons in my time. I do not think they would be allowed. I did not meet any until I was grown.” She shook her head, focused on the path ahead. “Their personalities change. Not good. They are doomed.” 

"Being a werewolf is not seen as doom in all cultures Professor." Ravindar spoke with deep respect. "I recall reading a journal not so long ago. The author believed he had encountered a settlement of werewolves in a mountainous region between Kazakhstan and Mongolia." Professor Singh stroked his beard. Thoughtful. "He hoped to study the culture. A possible model for other communities. Instead of integration."

Professor Singh had never truly disagreed with Professor Duerr in the time they had worked together. They were not the sort to enter into debate or pick apart each other’s opinions too deeply, and especially not in the presence of a student or students.

His reference of a journal trod on a delicate insecurity about her suitability as a Professor. Many of her colleagues were proper academics whereas she had come from an entirely professional background in banking. She had a whole library of practical experience but had not the breadth of reading some of her younger colleagues, such as Ravindar had. She ordinarily kept that to herself.

The topic of werewolves was another sore point for her, given her late husband’s last few months as one, and his involvement in an illegal werewolf fighting ring.
“My opinion is on limited first-hand experience, Professor.” She replied quietly, glancing sorely at her colleague and folded her arms tightly across her chest as if cold. “Besides I believe Zeta’s little club is about integration.” She stared resolutely ahead, uncomfortably reminding her colleague that there was a teenager between them.

Zeta couldn't think of the last time she's heard to professors disagreeing with each other, but this was also the first time she'd been among any number of them in an informal situation. For a moment, she wondered if they'd forgotten she was there, for how novel it was. But in this disagreement, Zeta was unprepared to note two things: Professor Singh thought werewolves should go live in the mountains and Professor Duerr thought they were doomed. It briefly occurred to her that she may have misunderstood the professors, but a possible model for communities was kind of difficult to unexplain. And there was nothing ambiguous about doomed.

Professor Duerr pointed out that their little club (wow.) was about integration and Zeta began to bristle.

"Obviously," Zeta said and rolled her eyes. "It's in the name."

She shook her head. The youth really would have to save the world.

They'd left the Hogwarts grounds now, and the steeply gabled rooves of Hogsmeade were now visible up ahead. "But I don't know, maybe we should follow the model and have a special school just for werewolves where they wouldn't inconvenience any of the not-doomed normal people. Sounds nice. Then we wouldn't have to care about other people! Everybody wins."

Zeta smiled plastic.

Professor Duerr looked hurt. Zeta spoke up.
"Yes. Yes." Professor Singh agreed with the name. He had not said he supported the author of the journal. He had brought it up to try and explain how a whole community of werewolves lived together. They saw it as a strength. But he had not got to finish explaining. Zeta had a hot head now!

"Please be not quick to assume my opinion to be the same as literature I was intrigued to read as a contrast." Professor Singh spoke kindly to Zeta. He kept his patience. "They do not see themselves as doomed and nor do I. They have banded together in strong community. Around their circumstances. They see it as a great strength. An advantage." He gestured with his hands. Appealing to Zeta not to jump to fierce defense. Professor Duerr formed her view through a life experience. She seemed unwilling to explain her negativity. "Every young wix has the right to an education. Despite their circumstances. As the Guru Granth Sahib says From one clay has the Creator made countless shapes, sizes and colors. Neither are the vessels badly made or does the Creator lack any skill."

“What was it, the three C’s?” Professor Duerr recalled from the start of their conversation. “Not compare ourselves to others and complain? Not compete?” That rare honesty was there again, stepping out from behind the commonly seen motherly side of the arithmancy professor.

She had bristled like a disgruntled cat, which wasn’t like her. The truth was that Zeta’s group made her uncomfortable. Not all werewolves were young, innocent-enough looking Gryffindor girls and blustering Headmasters. Some were horrific beings who were used as weapons against students and bystanders, as she had learned from the Ministry contacts who had come to speak to them after her late husband had been turned. In the war they had turned to the Dark Lord and sided with him. Some still terrorised communities (though if pressed she would have to admit not in this country).

As much as she had made peace with Hannah Bombay - briefly her future daughter in law and the werewolf who had turned her husband - the movement as a whole did not sit well with her. These still were people who turned into monsters every month, who left unchecked would tear you limb from limb. The curse changed them and not for the better. As such, she took care not to venture out at full moon unless absolutely necessary.

As for vessels then surely the curse was a great crack down the vessel caused after any ‘creator’ made it. She opened her mouth to express such, but caught Professor Singh’s expression and decided it would be very misguided to disagree further with him in front of a student. She set her jaw again.

This was meant to be a three year for her - one of sociability when it was to be especially easy to enjoy life and others, likely to be lighthearted. As ever, a calculation for a whole year could not apply generously to each day, let alone each conversation. She quickly added the digits of the date to make nine and recalled completion and transition, letting go of things.

Once more, she opened her mouth, decided against it and bit her tongue. She would bend Ravindar’s ear in private.

There was something disarming about how Professor Singh put things that made it difficult for Zeta to maintain her indefatigable teenage self-assurance. It was impossible to ignore that both professors were engaging her, more or less, as an equal and in that light, even Zeta had to notice her own tone didn't fit. She lowered her chin as they walked, her body language more than her words, giving a hint of an apology she didn't know how to voice.

"Can't really imagine what it would be like," she admitted, with less salt. 

Both witches walking with Professor Singh were quiet. This was not at all auspicious.
"It was not my intention to upset either of you." Professor Singh said. Did he need to apologize? He got the impression it would be a good idea. "We are at our journey's end." He turned. Bowed respectfully. "A pleasant and safe visit to the village Miss Pepper, Professor Duerr." He would not assume their continued company at this junction. With the luck of the universe there would be no incident with the students today. Apart from inevitable misguided valentine choices.

Even Miss Pepper had lost her spice. Perhaps the whole business would not have turned sour if she hadn’t imposed herself on them both, Camille thought bitterly. It was selfish to think it, but Camille did so enjoy her walks with Ravindar normally.

“A pleasant and safe visit to the village Miss Pepper, Professor Duerr.” They parted on the cobbles of the high street. The arithmancy professor let her gaze linger after her colleague, hands balled in the pockets of her long navy cloak. His beautifully embroidered robes swept away.

“Was that without the ‘sass’?” the Professor asked Zeta, frowning, fixing the girl with her best ‘disapproving mother’ impression. Truth be told, Professor Duerr wasn’t entirely sure what ‘sass’ was, but had a vague impression it might mean argumentative or awkward for the sake of it.

“Laat maar.[1],” She resigned herself to the fact Zeta was a teenager, and not her direct responsibility. “Have a good day.”

1.	Dutch: Never mind. (her first language)