It was Sunday and by now the whole school new about the new Transfiguration professor.  They'd introduced him at dinner and told them all to give him a warm welcome and that classes would resume come Monday.  Figaro had been too interested in other things going on to take much notice - there was the last dinner bun to snag, there were two unlikely students playing footsie under the table, and it was his turn at Exploding Snap.  But when Madam Snark introduced the new staff as Professor Tawse, FIgaro wasn't the only one who fell silent with a dropped jaw.

He didn't look anything like the giant wizard who'd killed a score of people.  He didn't have a long forked beard, or tattoos on his arms.  This new Tawse was very, very short, and older.  Short hair, clean chin, pleasent clothing and a happy, cheerful wave to the students.  Figaro had stared at him even as he sat down and the rest of the Great Hall got on with their food.

But as the weekend passed, Figaro couldn't take his mind off the Tawse that was now stalking the castle.  He had to follow the same dumbass curiosity that had led him to encounter the Bad Tawse in the first place, stick his nose in, maybe say something stupid, but at least he'd know.

It was after dinner and Figaro checked first at the Transfiguration classroom.  The new Professor would be teaching in the morning, so Figaro figured he might be preparing.  It appeared the sixteen-year-old was right - a light was on.

Figaro leaned in the open doorway, arms crossed, his expression subdued.  He was wary and trying to look a little bolder than he actually was.  He just stood there, waiting to be noticed, still not exactly sure how he'd find out what he wanted to know.

Didymus sat at his wooden desk. The room had not changed much, if at all, since it's last occupant had left. Didymus intended to add his own flair to the room when he had the time but for now he was creating lesson plans for the week ahead. Tomorrow would be his first day of teaching. The small Professor was bubbling with excitement, he was especially looking forward for his lesson with the First Years as hopefully he would know some of them for seven years, if he knew what would happen in that class he would not of been so excited.

As he scribbled down class rules on parchment he was whistling an old Scottish tune. The Professor was dressed in his usual bright clothes, but this time he wore different shades of blue and a dark red, pointed hat. Beside his quill was a mug of tea, his eleventh today. Didymus often left his door open, even at home, he felt it allowed for a more open and welcoming environment.

As he glanced upwards and saw a young man, though naturally taller than Didymus, standing in the open doorway. He didn't recongise the boy, though he was sure he would one day soon, but as always Didymus smiled and waved him in.

"Can I help you Mr..."

He then stood and made his way around his desk to welcome the boy into his classroom.

The professor smiled and got up from his chair.  Rising from his seat just seemed to make the guy even shorter and Figaro realized he was a good head taller than this wizard coming up to him with a pointed hat.  Figaro flashed a weak smile, and moved out of the doorway.

"Sellaphix," he supplied politely, and he returned the handshake.  The professor was uncomfortably short.

Figaro broke away and stepped to the side a few feet to slide into a student's desk.  He scratched the back of his dirty-blonde hair.  "I've got kind of nutty question," he admitted.  Up close, he couldn't see any traces of the murderer Ex-Azzie.  Only a boyish, but aged face, grinning at him in a most friendly manner.  The only traces of resemblance Figaro could find now was the wizard's name and the Scottish accent. 

Didymus was sure he sensed some awkwardness from the boy. He didn't blame him as most students who meet him for the first time feel the same. As the Professor intended to stay at Hogwarts for many years to come he was sure that every year the new students would be surprised by his small stature. Didymus was still rather upset by it himself, but he never let it show, however he had built himself a very cozy house in Scotland that was perfect for his small size.

"Well, good day, Mr.Sellaphix. How are you? Can I get you some tea?" Didymus always had tea ready, or on the boil, it was one of his greatest vices.

"Ask away my boy!" He declared with a smile. Didymus' first thought was the question would be something to do with his size. However he could not go into great detail as the accident occurred during his time as an Unspeakable. One of the few people who knew what happened in detail was the Headmistress, but she was the former Head of the Department of Mysteries.

He was so nice!  Figaro began to doubt if he should even bring it up as every moment gave more and more proof that Professor Tawse had absolutely nothing to do with Cinaed Tawse or Xav.    Sitting stiffly in his seat in the empty classroom, he shook his head to decline any tea.  He still didn't get why people liked tea.

The little Professor was standing there before him, all smiles and greetings, and pointed hats and waistcoats.  He was different from all the other Hogwarts professors who all took themselves very seriously.  If anything he was like their old Headmaster Greyfriar.  Sort of. 

Figaro furrowed his brow and picked at the desk and then after a second pulled himself together.  When he looked up he looked calm and had a little grin on his face.

"You probably get this all the time... but it's kind of a big deal with me.  And I don't mean to get on your bad side or anything.  Sure that'll happen quick enough on its own," he said with a harmless snicker. 

"But your last name's Tawse..." he supplied, hoping that would be question enough.

People declining tea was a surprise to Didymus, but only because he had never turned down his favourite beverage, but he accepted it. He wondered if he had any thing else in the room that the boy could drink but he finally realised all he had was tea and sweets.

"You probably get this all the time... but it's kind of a big deal with me.  And I don't mean to get on your bad side or anything.  Sure that'll happen quick enough on its own,"

"Oh, I doubt that. I don't have many people on my bad side," as he moved to sit down he jumped in pain "Awww," he said as his Tobacco pipe, that he kept in his breast pocket, stabbed into his chest. He took the brown pipe out and turned it around to the pointed end would point out of his pocket. "Sorry about that, bad habbit, but I do use a tobacco substitute that isn't harmful."

"But your last name's Tawse..."

"Yes, I think I understand your question." He took out his pipe with his left hand and with his right he went into another pocket to take out the NoBacco, his own magical creation that harmed no one but helped with his addiction, "you don't mind, do you?" He lit the pipe with his wand. As he puffed for the first time the smoke came out red, each time it would change; he did it to amuse his own love of bright colours.

"My dad, Alban Tawse, is the brrother of Cináed's father. So Cináed is my cousin. However I have not seen him in many many years. My family, the Tawse's, have had a long history of Muggle prejudice. My mother, also a Pureblod, my father and I are all considered blood traitors. My dear sisters, one is a squib by the way, both married Muggle men. Is there any specific reason you asked Mr.Sellaphix?" 

This was weird.  Figaro was starting to regret seeking out the new professor, not because Professor Tawse had done anything particularly strange, but Figaro was just realizing why he spent so little time around the teachers one on one - he had no idea how he was supposed to act.  As much as Figaro seemed to chafe against being told what to do, he benefited from knowing what was expected of him.

He watched awkwardly as the Professor fumbled with a pipe and lit up some rainbow-colored tobacco.  Even though this was a friendly conversation that Figaro himself had sought out, he still felt some how like he was in trouble.  But that was probably just the context most associated with sitting alone in an empty classroom after hours with a professor... usually meant he was in trouble.

But thankfully the professor understood where he was going with his question, and he proceeded to describe his family tree.

Figaro didn't quite follow, but he did pick up on a few key points.  A) He was absolutely a relation of Cinaed Tawse.  B) He did not share Cinaed Tawse's violent hobbies.  Despite himself Figaro let out a chest-full of breath and smiled.

"Just making sure I won't get murdered in me bed!" he said with a nervous laugh, stretching his arms with relief.  "I've met Cinaed Tawse you know - he's Ministry's most wanted." 

"The closest I have come to murder is when I accidently ate a live fish in my Animagus form," he laughed. As he did he turned around and coughed, making sure that the smoke that came out of his mouth, bright green, was blown away from the student. It would never harm the boy but it was not usually pleasant to have smoke flowing around in your face.

"I've met  Cináed Tawse you know - he's Ministry's most wanted."

He kind of hummed at the mention of his cousin's undesirable no. 1 status. His murdering relative was the greatest blotch on an already dirty family name. His sisters had been able to escape the family name by marrying his brother in laws, Daniel and Bryan, both Muggle men who worked hard - a very admirable trait to a Hufflepuff. But he would never escape the name Tawse.

"Yes, his crimes, their not something we like to talk about," by like he meant his branch of the family tree, "...I doubt you have a murder in your family but I'm sure a smart boy like yourself can imagine how it makes one feel." Didymus realised exactly what the boy had just said.

"Wait, you've met him? When was this? Did he threaten you?"

Well, he didn't have a murderer in his family, no.  And for a moment Figaro wondered that it probably did bother the hell out of Professor Tawse to have everyone talking about  Cináed Tawse all the time, as if he had anything to do with it.  About as much as it bothered Figaro to hear anyone go on about his dad who had just gone to Azkaban.  Gone to Azkaban, not for murder, but for selling Runespoor venom.[1]

Figaro leaned forward onto the desk and rested his elbows.  Despite himself, Didymus Tawse was proving not at all hard to talk to.  He couldn't put his finger on why that was.

He mumbled a quiet, "sorry," in passing.  He hadn't meant to cause the older wizard any offense.  But the topic quickly turned to Figaro's brash claim of having met  Cináed.

He hesitated and stammered, "Um, yeah..."

It wasn't actually a story that he could tell very freely considering it had him sneaking out of Hogwarts and trespassing.  He'd never see the light of day if staff or mother ever got wind of it.  Even though it was a secret he and Xavier would need to take to their graves, it was too badass not to brag about.

"Well, it was a long time ago," he said, hoping to frame the tale properly.  "Before he was wanted for arrest."[2]

Figaro scratched the back of his neck and his face grimaced as he tried to pull out the right details.  "It was um, pretty insane, but I ended up hexing him to keep him from taking my wand." (He gestured as he told the tale.)   "He's not allowed a wand - ex-Azzie.  I mean, in the end, he didn't end up doing anything."

Sort of an anti-climactic story, but to Figaro encountering a giant of a criminal like Tawse and then walking away? Dead amazing, that.

1.	Runespoor Explosion Case Closed, February 11, 2009
2.	Down the Alley, November 15, 2008