And the rest is history. PV Zahid Finished

" … Therefore to horse,
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: there's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself when there's no mercy left."¹

Closing the book, Zahid looked up to check on his surroundings. It was getting dark and, while he could use magic to produce light to keep on reading, the end of a scene seemed to be a good point to pause to him. Macbeth was not particularly amongst his favourite books, but it was one of the classics and in his opinion one should always take the time to read the classics – and ideally at least twice at different times in one's life.

Whenever he had a spot of free time, Zahid either spend it in the library or getting some fresh air outside. He loved the castle, and while the air inside was perhaps better than it would have been in a non-magical boarding school, nothing trumped the fresh air outside in nature – even if it was merely the air of the school grounds and not the wilderness.

From his spot underneath a tree he could see a couple of students return to the castle in the distance, indicating the approach of the curfew. Letting out a soft whistle, as he did not see Dot anywhere near him, he put the little book away in one of his jacket's many pockets. Getting up, he took a look around, both for his cat and to see if there were any stragglers still roaming the grounds that needed to be reminded that the curfew would be soon. Although, judging by the sun, the curfew might still be further away than he had first thought.

Leaning back against the tree to wait for his cat, he noticed the Hufflepuff Head of House seemingly taking a break from his jog nearby. He had not interacted much with his colleague – the longest interaction they had had had doubtlessly been at the barbecue during the summer. So he would wait for his cat to return before making his way over to greet Professor Browne. Maybe they could walk back to the castle together.

From the corner of his eye, Caradoc noticed the faint movement of turning pages. A man reading his book against a tree. To recognise this man was no exceptional feat, Professor Zahid was as most, a unique character in his own right. There had been little to no interaction between the two of them so far, at least not regarding anything unrelated to their professional careers. A shame really, as Caradoc was assigned as his Head. The older man from a far away country with most likely numerous tales to tell was left under his wing. Perhaps now was better than ever to make up for lost time.

Not at all dressed for conversation, as being sweaty was generally not appreciated in close encounters, Caradoc was grateful for meeting him out in the open air. Keeping his distance by a few feet the Hufflepuff Head of House smiled friendly at his colleague as he approached.

"Professor Zahid" He recalled how Masoud had been the man's father, not necessarily his last name. Caradoc silently admitted he was no expert on foreign naming conventions. Benghazi was easier to figure out. "May I interrupt your evening reading?" If anything came natural to Mr. Browne, it would have been smiling. His parents' influence no doubt. Even now, this late in life, they had never changed their opinion on kindness. Though it was rather funny to them how both their sons had seemingly fallen on two different sides on the aspect of joy.

“Professor Browne, good evening!” Zahid straightened as he greeted the Head of House with a smile. “Oh, you are not interrupting anything, I was at good place to pause – and even if I was not, I would not consider it an interruption.” Not when he was outside on the castle grounds, where everyone could approach him if they so wished. Now, if someone had interrupted him while reading in the library... that might be a whole different ball game.

Casting a quick look around to see if he could spot Dot yet, he turned back to the Head of House. “How are you on this fine evening?” It was possibly one of the last warm evenings – he would have to see how Dot liked (or rather disliked) the cold, mayhap a change in his schedule would be needed. There was always the possibility to take a walk earlier and finish his work in the evenings afterward? But he would cross that bridge once he came upon it, no need to contemplate it beforehand.

Hearing a soft meow from behind the tree, he squatted down to pick Herodotus back up – the kitten was slowly getting a bit bigger and he supposed Dot would not fit in his jacket much longer – but the kitten was beginning to also favour climbing on his shoulder or draping himself around his neck instead.

Sitting back down with Dot in his lap enjoying the scritches he lavished him with, Zahid turned toward the Head of House. “Oh, no, I actually acquired Herodotus a short while after I began at Hogwarts, the last weekend before school ended for summer if I recall. Home had been wherever I travelled the last few years – sadly not the best time for a pet.” He supposed even if he was no longer to read, a conversation with one of his colleagues was a good reason to enjoy the evening air a tad longer – and the Head of the House whose team he had been assigned to no less. “Do you have any pets?”

It seemed the settling in question was standard faire in first (or second) conversations. He supposed he had settled in better by now than the last time he had been asked this question. Still, he gave a vague shrug with a “I suppose so. It had been a bit difficult in the beginning, but no more than expected. The school is quite welcoming if a bit of a fire hazard from what I heard. At the very least I cannot complain about the few colleagues I have met.” Which, if he was perfectly honest, probably only included the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Heads of Houses (one of which he was only getting to know right now) as he had not really talked to any of the professors outside the obligatory staff meeting during the summer.

“Oh? You were in a band? What instrument did you play? Or did you sing?” He was not quite sure how a band fit into his impression he had of Caradoc so far but he took note of it as he did of Caradoc's having been a Healer. “That is quite a switch in professions, then.” To be honest, he was not certain whether he meant from being in a band to Healer or from Healer to Head of House.

Making friends already... Well, he supposed Caradoc would make it friends, plural, now. Possibly. He was still quite bad at telling it, even at his age. There was a reason he mostly preferred books to people. Or maybe said preference was why he never could quite tell. Oh, well. It was what it was. “I suppose.”

A pet growing old was a sad thing. A good thing that they have stayed by their side for so long but sad as that time undeniable grew to an end. He had Dot barely for a few months and he really did not want to imagine. “You must have some stories to tell, then, about mischief your Miss Hastings got into.” He offered Caradoc a smile. Truly, he simply did not really know how to keep the conversation going or from growing awkward.