cernunnos ∙ don't ruin this on me ∙ dash

Callum leaned back at his desk, fiddling with the pages of his textbook, surrounded by the scuffling of chairs against hardwood and the rustling of papers as other students rummaged through their backpacks. Wrinkles creased his forehead as he scrutinised the last page that they’d read. It had caught him off guard when the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room crooned, signalling the end of class. In the last thirty minutes, his focus had diverted from the text onto… other things. A nervous glance shot up to the front of the classroom where the tutor stood. He couldn’t recall anything they’d just gone over.

Cal’s hand lingered on the edge of the page before he flipped the book shut with a soft sigh. By now, most of his classmates had already left, with one or two stragglers in the space of the doorway sharing their thoughts on the material. He watched as a fair-haired girl paused to throw a question at the professor, who smiled and responded with a gracious answer. The students in the door frame waved goodbye and flounced away after that, and when their tutor started reaching for her bag, Callum suddenly stood up and winced at the screeching sound his chair made.

“Dash,” he said, maneuvering himself so that he stood behind his seat. Rather than pushing it, to avoid another cringe-inducing creak, he picked it up and carried it closer to the desk. “Uh, sorry.” Callum brought a hand to his head and tugged on a lock nervously. “Sorry to hold you up.” He repeated the apology and bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of where exactly he was going with this. When she shook her head with that same good-natured smile, a matching one formed on his face.

The former Hufflepuff gathered his supplies and shuffled them into his backpack, then hoisted the bag over his shoulder and did a quick jog to her desk.

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you a question?”

The initial approach was always difficult for him. Somehow he was rendered tongue-tied every time, stumbling over words, filling in the spaces where he thought too hard about what to say with little ‘um’s and ‘ah’s. Right now, he was looking for a good reason to give for staying behind and trying to stir up conversation. Really he just wanted to be around her a little longer, but, Merlin, he couldn’t exactly say that. He clasped his hands around the straps of his bag, too aware of the growing silence, and cleared his throat. He shuffled through his brain for a topic - sea creatures or anti-aquarium views tended to be his main go-to’s - when a lightbulb clicked on above his head.

 â€œThe research trip… you’re in charge of that this year, yeah?”

Dash said goodbye to the students, answering a couple of questions as they left the room. “Maybe when you graduate,” was her amused answer for a small group of them who asked her when she was coming out for drinks. It still felt weird to be tutoring the odd class. Most of the time she only covered introductory classes in her field, and sometimes she gave talks on her research, but, even still, she didn’t feel old enough to be teaching people things. Being around them made her feel older sometimes, too; they knew that she was a researcher, working on a dissertation, didn’t they? She was a student too.

The brunette glanced up at the last dawdler in the room. “No worries, Callum, what’s up?” she asked, shaking her head and giving him an easy smile. She finished packing up her things before he did, and leaned against the desk while she waited for him to catch up. He jogged down, and then hovered by her desk, taking his time to speak. She waited patiently, trying not to look at the clock. She was done for the day, and it was lunchtime, so she was hoping to duck to a nearby cafe before heading home to do some boring write-ups.

“Wanna walk with me?” she said after a beat, nodding at the door as she pushed herself up from the desk. She started slowly towards the door, only speeding up to a normal pace when she was sure he was coming. As they walked, Dash tied her hair up into a high ponytail. “Oh, I am, yeah,” she said, frowning a little in disbelief and smiling at the same time, like she could barely fathom it was actually happening. She’d gone on a lot of field trips, but she’d never led one herself. Especially not one where she was out there not only with her peers, who she’d been studying and working with for years, but younger students too.

“There are two spots for undergraduates,” she told him, “Are you thinking of applying? It’s a six week trip – a big commitment.” She gave him an easy smile despite her warning.

He let her make her way over to the door and glanced behind him to ensure that he’d packed everything (once, he’d been so caught up in speaking with her before she left that he’d forgotten two books and a homework assignment on his desk). When it looked like he’d procured all of his belongings, Callum spun on his heels and sped up until he was behind her, eventually falling into step.

The halls of Cernunnos felt so vast, especially in comparison to Hogwarts. There was an emphasis on environment here, so while the left side held classrooms, the right had large archways that opened into a garden area. A large fountain sat in the middle, its kelpie centerpiece spewing water into the air. Wooden benches with curved top rails were near the pathway. Students often lounged there, studying, huddling together. The flowers were different every week. It proved to be a nice common area for those who wanted to get a change of scenery from the library but couldn’t leave campus.

Callum’s hands dropped to his sides and he nodded as Dash spoke. “Yeah, I wanna apply,” he told her. He knew getting in would be tough. First year was supposed to be the easiest one, and he’d struggled to stay afloat then. He felt like a fish out of water at the beginning. Care of Magical Creatures hadn’t been the easiest class at Hogwarts, but it was a breeze versus the sandstorm he’d entered upon attending this school – just a minor experience. At Cernunnos there was much more immersion, much more to keep up with.

“Do you think I’ve got a good chance of getting a spot?” he asked sheepishly. Then he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t answer that.” He grinned at her, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“I know it’s competitive. It’s not going to be easy to get in,” he agreed. “I guess I was wondering, well, do you have any advice then? I don’t want you to cheat or anything!” he quickly clarified, voice raising slightly at the idea of being misunderstood. Callum swallowed and continued, “I mean you’ve done all of… this,” He made an arching movement with his hand, gesturing to their surroundings, “before. You know what it’s like. What exactly are they looking for?”

“Ah…” She smiled as he dismissed his own question, shaking her head. “God, you make it sound like I’m turning sixty-five next week or something,” she said, her tone joking and easy. It was a pretty funny thing, though, to have someone asking her for educational advice. She’d have to remember to tell Ruari about this later. “You’re in your second year here, right?” she asked, glancing his way as she adjusted her bag. “I think our study paths would have been pretty different, I worked for a while before I started studying, so I skipped things?” She checked that he understood, then turned her gaze forward again as the pair rounded a corner. “My units were all messed up.”

Dash had never thought she’d end up in a place like this. In a lot of ways, it didn’t really suit her, all the writing and the classrooms. Late nights studying. Literature reviews. Grant applications. Sometimes she wondered what her father thought of it all. She’d always been more like him, more excited by fishing trips and camping than books or studying. As a child, she’d bonded with him deeply, and had such a difficult time with her mother. What did they both think of her now that she was an academic? She’d only taken three NEWT classes, for heaven’s sake.

The brunette gave a small wave to a friend as she passed them. “I’ll tell you what I told the others,” she said gently, trying not to beat him over the head with the fact that he was definitely not the first person to approach her. “I mean, it’s all of the obvious things,” she started, holding up fingers as she counted things off. “Grades – of course. Good words from you unit or year level coordinators, your lecturers…” She trailed off, hesitating at a cross section of two halls as she decided what she was getting for lunch today.

She knew it was a selfish thing to think, but Dash wasn’t entirely convinced by the idea of undergraduates coming on these kinds of research trips. Or, more accurately, she wasn’t super impressed at the idea of having them on her trips. The team would be small, made up mostly of people she knew well, whose approaches and methods she’d likely been familiar with for years now. Vetting new people to enter into that dynamic – even though it was hardly a decision made solely by her – seemed unnecessary.

“And really, in your application you should say what you want out of it – will it be useful for a field you intend on specialising in next year?” She slowed to a stop as she joined the line of a small cafe, glancing at him again with that same easy smile as she shifted her bag from her shoulder to place on the ground while she waited. “What are you passionate about? Why do you want to come?” She shrugged. It sounded pretty cliche to her, but it was more or less true. “Basically, what you’d expect.”

Cal laughed but stopped the apology on his lips. Indy had told him before that he apologised too much. Darcy had said the same thing, but added her own special embellishment by tacking on an ‘it’s annoying’ at the end. Now he was a little self-conscious about the frequency. And over-aware; he’d already said sorry twice since the start of their conversation, and not enough of anything else to cushion it.

As she spoke, he listened intently, hands moving from the straps of his book bag to the back of his head.

What was he going to write? ‘I’m interested in this trip because I want to impress my hot teacher.’ He imagined an immediate request for his removal from the school. Cal shook his head, grasping for the right answer. He cast a covert look her way, then returned his gaze ahead. It was true in a way; if he did apply, he couldn’t pretend like Dash wasn’t playing some sort of role in that decision. Callum had turned into a hopeless puppy around her within the first few weeks of class. She was smart, with evident care and passion for her field. He’d fallen into the unforgiving clutches of crushdom fairly quickly. But he knew there was more to it than that. He was at this school for a reason, after all. He hadn’t known her before he’d come here.

Callum scratched his head, somewhat perturbed. Now that he’d brought it up as an excuse for conversing, he wanted to give actual intentional thought to the process of applying for the trip, beyond the superficiality of knowing it would look good when the time came for him to seek work. Obviously, he was passionate about magical creatures. He never considered himself a scholar, but he’d spent countless hours of his life crouched over books, absorbing information on the different abilities of sandspiders, the various properties of unicorn horns, the way weather affected the mood of frillkickers… Even the memories gave him the urge to pull something new from the library. Only once, for a brief time, had he ever had the thought that maybe this wasn’t for him. His internship with a veterinary healer had gone to shambles, and he’d been pretty hard on himself afterwards. The doubt ate him alive that summer.

Cernunnos had been a chance of redemption, and so far he felt confident about the decision. Cal wondered if the trip would only strengthen his morale.

He pondered the questions posed for a while longer, bringing a hand to his chin. She was right, they were what he expected them to be – straightforward, not that different from the inquiries on his application to the school. But, Callum hesitated, cognizant of the fact that he couldn’t just regurgitate the answers he’d given on his application.

“I’m gonna need to put in extra time,” he said more to himself than to her, still mulling over every thing.

“Maybe you will,” she replied, amused. “You have a few months,” she added after a beat, the statement meant to be neither reassuring nor threatening. The woman pushed the bag she’d dropped on the floor along a bit with her foot as the line moved forward. She remembered being in his position, still feeling like this university was a new, powerful place to be. Feeling small. Dash hadn't been here that much longer than he had – like she'd said earlier, she'd skipped some of her degree because of her practical experience. But she still felt like she knew this place a lot better now than he probably did. It came with the territory.

Callum looked thoughtful, and she wondered if he was going to eat here, too, or if he was just hovering absentmindedly. A part of her wanted to shoo him away; she’d been with students all morning, and could probably benefit from having a little time to herself. The idea of him staying for lunch was a little tiring. But she was kind and accommodating before anything else, so she didn’t say anything. It wasn't too bad, either, she thought. Just a mild inconvenience.

Glancing at the front of the line, then back at him, Dash straightened her ponytail. “It’s a small group – just ten, I think,” she said, because he was silent. She didn’t know if he’d read through all of the trip’s papers; there were a lot of them to read through. She searched her brain to find more useful information for him. “Usually we sleep in groups of two. Oh, and there’s an underwater skills test you’d need to pass too – I don’t know if you’ve got that qualification yet?” she glanced at him, “you don’t need to have it before you apply, but it’s something to think about.”

They were nearly at the front of the line now, and she nodded at the counter. “Are you…?”