French Roast

[Wren Louise]

He wondered idly whether or not there'd still be anyone left in the room by the time he'd made it to the first day introduction. After the welcoming feast in the first semester, the Professors and their new colleagues gathered in the staff room to introduce themselves properly and do a bit of gasbagging before lessons started. Wren had slept through the whole thing, and after wandering down to the kitchens to snag a sandwich, he'd headed up the moving stairs in the dark, trailing spicy cigarette smoke though he'd not lit up for a week, and slouched into the Professor's common room.

Wren disturbed a few house elves cleaning up after the teachers, who squeaked and disappeared with a muted bang, leaving him and one other gentlemen in the empty room.
"Sh!t. What time is it?" he asked, mumbling more to himself than the professor. Ahhh, a coffee pot! He thought nothing of his attire, which made him look terribly out of place even though there was only one person to compare himself with. His designer jeans were both artfully ripped as well as organically abused, and his leather jacket was patched many times with peeling sewing charms. His hair was a mess, as usual, and the only thing not sleepy about him was his eyes, which had lit up at the smell of a dark roast. It was only after he was being half-consumed by a leather sofa, clutching a white mug to his chest, that he put the thought into greeting the other staff member.

"Bonjour," said Wren with a lazy, handsome smile.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

It wasn't often Monty was found away from his quarters so late into the night, but his most recent visit to Flourish and Blotts had landed him with so many books that the time had slipped by him quietly and with ease. He'd read all of them several times before (save for New Theory of Numerology, which he'd merely skipped to the end of in the hopes that the tenth chapter would be even minutely less boring than the first), but these were new copies, and in Monty's opinion, that was justification enough to spend an evening or two reading them again. He sat contentedly in one of the common room armchairs, one leg crossed loosely over the other and a herbology encyclopaedia resting on his thigh. For quite some time, the Potions Professor went about his studying undisturbed, only occasionally looking up when a house elf fussed around the coffee table muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'dusty old books'.

Who knew what time it was when in through the door came quite an atrocious sight. The house elf practically fled, and Monty couldn't entirely blame it, for the closer the bedraggled man came, the harder it was to stifle a small coughing fit. It took him several seconds to realise that they were now the only two people in the room, and a quick glance at his pocket watch told him why. It was one in the morning! He didn't tell the man this, since he seemed much too occupied with brewing himself a coffee, and instead began to wonder how on earth he was going to get away without making conversation. Was this one of the new professors? Monty didn't recall seeing his face around, and he was sure he wouldn't easily have forgotten it. Much to his dismay, the stranger took a seat, and before too long came the inevitable greeting. Monty made a noise that he hoped sounded like he was clearing his throat. "Hello," he replied uncertainly, completely lost for words.

 

[Wren Louise]

Wren seemed to take no notice of Monty's discomfit. He was just as happy to talk as not to, and soon the Divination professor's eyes were half-lidded as he nursed his cup and himself into a lazy stupour. As it so happened, there was plenty going on in his head, but the pace of his thoughts were meandering. The Frenchman crossed his legs into the leather sofa and appeared to be meditating over the coffee, his forehead drooping downwards as he dozed in the common room despite being in polite company.

His parents had often despaired over his sleepiness, but he'd insisted for years that he was always thinking and rarely sleeping. This was half-true, but no one knew the difference anyway. In his quietest moments, he experienced revelation, and occasionally he told his sister or his friends about them. No one knew what he was talking about, but they were happy to listen anyway. Eventually he opened his eyes again and heated the coffee with his wand, taking another sip for all the good coffee did at waking him up.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

When the curly haired Frenchman began dozing off, Monty smiled to himself and returned to his book, keeping half a wary eye on the mug of coffee in his acquaintance's lap. He quickly began not to mind the quiet company, which was otherwise in short supply around the castle. When the subject was right and the friendship warm, the inventor could hold lengthy discussions with ease; but a timid man by nature, it was rare for Monty to come across such a person whose presence did not immediately deter him. He didn't know who the unkempt, smoky smelling man was, but for some reason he found himself curious.

Hoping not to be responsible for rousing him, Monty paged through the encyclopaedia in careful, deliberate silence. When he woke a short while later, it was entirely of his own accord, and he was greeted with an affable (and slightly amused) grin. "Morning," said Monty, which wasn't completely inaccurate given that it was almost two o'clock. The Potions Professor still wasn't particularly tired. Readjusting to the vastly different time zone of New Zealand always took a week or two. "Wren, yes?" he asked the young man kindly, having figured out whilst he'd been asleep that only the new divination professor had been absent at the staff meeting. "You do know professors have their own sleeping quarters, don't you?"

 

[Wren Louise]

It took a while for Wren to notice that he was being addressed, and when he looked up it was with a slow smile like someone waking up out of a dream.
"Yes, I'm Wren. Who're you?" he asked, not impolitely. Honest curiosity blossomed on his face, and he took the Professor's introduction to mean 'come forth and approach'. The new teacher peeled himself out of the leather chair and wandered over to Pendleton's table, all knees-and-elbows as if he was too well-greased at the joints. The coffee in his hands stayed stock still, however, the surface of the brew barely shivering in the mug. When he sat down, the seat somehow seemed to envelop him. It became his in a some bizarre, unexplainable way.

"Hmm?" was all he said to Monty about their quarters. "Oh, I s'pose so. Never been there, though. I like it here." Here seemed to mean everywhere, wherever he found a spot to snooze. Wren sipped coffee the older man flick through his textbooks before announcing quietly "You have a very nice aura." That was all he had to say about that for the moment, as his attention was captured by a grey, rumpled cat sneaking into the Professor's Common Room on silent paws. It was Fifi, his Scottish Fold, and Wren watched his cat just as the cat watched him, and made sure to wave her away when she got too close.
"Good girl, Fi. The Professor's allergic. Shoo, shoo."​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty watched with a smile as the new Divination Professor approached the coffee table and claimed a seat. He had a nice, welcoming face, albeit with sleepy features, and his hair reminded the inventor of thick woodland undergrowth in autumn. "Monty Pendleton," he explained cheerfully. "I teach Potions. Pleasure to meet you."

Monty's smile further widened when Wren expressed his preference for the common room, and he gave an unconcerned shrug. With so many quirks and eccentricities of his own, he wasn't disposed to judge others so quickly for theirs. So long as nobody suffered ill-effects for it, Monty was a firm believer in doing as one well pleased, and it was perhaps this that made up most of his tolerant nature. The man's next comment caught him by surprise, though it was by no means an unpleasant shock. He had just opened his mouth to respond when into the room padded possibly the world's most laid back cat. Monty regarded it with a look that wasn't quite ill at ease, but certainly didn't exhibit a warm invitation for the four legged animal come any closer. Unfortunately, it strolled forth with an inconsideration notorious to its breed, and only halted when Wren shooed it away with an extraordinarily accurate comment. Monty finally closed his book and set it amongst the pile in front of him, letting his eyes remain on the new Professor. "Goodness, how did you know that?"

 

[Wren Louise]

Wren smiled beatifically at his rather-handsome coworker. Pity Monty was likely old enough to be his father, but then he wasn't about to go shagging his way through the faculty, either. The man opposite them was apparently one of their Potions Professors. He wasn't entirely sure what someone teaching Potions ought to look like, but he decided that Monty fit the role. The slightly taller man had a kind face, and was adorably eccentric in his dress sense. They couldn't have looked more different from one another, with the twenties-style cut coat and trousers Monty was in and Wren wearing his own abused leather jacket.

His coworker asked how he knew he was allergic to cats; it was pretty obvious just by observing his mannerisms. Wren caught Monty's eye and then made an exaggerated recoil. The Potions Professor hadn't been nearly as theatrical, of course, but he'd caught Monty's ill-ease all the same and winked quietly while Fifi lifted her nose in the air, flouncing off as only a cat could.
"I'm working with the fifth years and over in their Divination," Wren told Monty, pulling his knees up into the chair and resting his nose on the coffee cup. When he drew in a breath, his nose exhaled the steam like a thin, bony dragon. "Opposite ends of the castle, really." Indeed, it was a miracle they'd even met, since he never turned up for meals and slept through staff meetings.

Wren had closed his eyes and appeared to fall asleep for a little longer, but he broke the silence with a comment that was completely out of place, and probably a bit startling for the veritable stranger across from him, but the Frenchman was absolutely certain he could trust the Potions Professor.
"I am completely in over my head," he said abruptly, eyes still closed and looking anachronistically serene despite expressing his fears.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

At the dramatic re-enactment of his subtle flinch in expression (for that was all it surely had been), Monty burst into open mouthed laughter. He was immediately quite at home in the younger man's company, despite the numerous differences between them that seemed as if they ought to deprive them of anything in common. Still grinning, the Potions Professor sat back in his armchair and pulled his jacket tighter around him. "I hope it wasn't as indiscreet as that," he said, "else goodness knows what my flirtatious glance looks like."

The subject returned to matters more sober, and Monty adjusted his countenance accordingly. It was rather a shame, he felt, that both Professors in whose company he had immediately felt comfortable should have been situated in classrooms such a lengthy walk from his own; but as he'd never anticipated the blessing either friendship anyway, he was hardly inclined to let something as trivial as distance bother him.

The men sat in untroubled silence, Wren with his eyes closed, and Professor Pendleton observing him with impolite interest. He was awfully young to be a Professor. Then again, age was not always the most reliable indicator of wisdom, and Monty supposed the Frenchman may merely have been a profound book in a slightly tattered cover. As if on purpose to contradict him, Professor Louise chose that moment to interrupt the silence with a worrying statement. "Hm?" said Monty, who was baffled as to how anybody could look so calm whilst simultaneously feeling so inundated. "Do you need a hand with anything? I can sympathize - I only began last year myself."

 

[Wren Louise]

Wren thought so quietly and for such a long time that Monty probably thought he'd fallen asleep again. His sudden reply was just as serene as his previous expression.
"Ah, no, thank you," he responded politely. "At least, I don't think you can assist with anything physical. The worries are all in my head." Wren smiled and swayed soothingly. Even the coffee in his hands rippled in even waves rather than the slight shake of a normal human being's hands.
"I spent a lot of time traveling, and now that I've stopped and settled here, in a school, I realise I haven't learnt half as much as I thought I'd had," he continued to explain. "I observed too much. Didn't participate."
That was a hard concept to introduce into casual conversation, but it didn't really require elaboration. Any new teacher who was familiar with their subject but not their audience was bound to have growing pains. It was a shame to suffer them alone, though. He knew absolutely no one, and whilst Wren had always been good at making friends in the 'outside world', in here, everyone seemed strange and professional and foreign. He rather liked Monty, though. He looked like a good snuggler, too.

"You're very kind," Wren told him, and removed a beautifully wrapped boiled-sweet from his jacket pocket and popped it in front of Monty. "I'm glad I brought this," he said, pleased with himself, and without so much as a goodbye, Wren wandered out of the Professor's Common Room with a round grey cat joining him past the threshold. He was so bad at goodbyes, so he never said it. He would return the following night, and perhaps they would talk again.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty nodded as the Professor elaborated on his previous statement. He didn't know so much of the world himself, having only ever ventured out of England for his education and to teach, but he sympathized as best he could. "Well, you're welcome to come and find me should you need support, if only be it moral," he said with a smile, watching curiously as the young man stood and lay a sweet on the table in front of him. Before he could open his mouth to utter thanks (or to question the bizarre gesture), Wren was gone, leaving Monty to his thoughts once more. It had been rather an unusual encounter, but nonetheless the Potions Professor had found it pleasant, and he resolved to seek out the man again when time permitted to ask him how he was getting on.

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FIN​

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