It was not visible from the spot he held by the flames but the man's lips twitched by the slightest degree. Any more and it could've been mistaken for a smile. It was laughable, really. Her sudden show of enthusiasm. For his sake? Trying to prove she wasn't bothered by the punishment? Well good, she shouldn't be. The rules were there, she didn't follow, punishment was handed out.

This was nothing unusual.

He'd been about to remind her that he didn't ask for a definition as he'd just more or less provided one but thankfully she got to the point soon after that. At least...he thought she was getting to the point. She didn't. The man fixed her with an unimpressed look. "I don't remember asking you if or what made the art dangerous, Ms. Newton. Is it so hard to pay attention?" First not noticing it would suit her better to stand if everyone else was and now this.



He could see the distress, it was in his eyes, clear as day. This was life, it didn't always give gentle reprimands. You had to learn to adjust. Had he meant to send the first year into a tizzy? No. But rules were rules and he would have to learn them somehow. This was a lesson he didn't suspect the boy would forget any time soon. If he was smart, he would learn from the mistakes of the others here too to avoid them himself.

Calvin silently watched him carry out the task, doing his own mental count. The push ups were sloppy, not at all like Ms. Newton's but with the class beginning, he didn't have the patience to watch him do them again.

The boy did himself some good getting off the floor before he had to say something about it. "Has the mild exercise removed your ability to form opinions, Mr. Dakest?" Not knowing an answer to the first was one thing, but the second simply asked what he thought. He would answer the next question. He would.



An apology, would you look at that. A willingness to learn from her mistakes. Calvin nodded his approval. "I trust you won't be forgetting again." It was very good of her. He made no comment on her mention of the muggle world but when she mentioned it again, he began to note the pattern.

"We are not currently in the muggle world, Ms. Blackwell and the question does not require you to know for definite fact whether it can or cannot be accurate. I simply asked for your opinion. Do you personally believe it is and why."




Another student who had earned his approval. He'd shown up and done everything that was expected of him without question or defiance. It really wasn't that hard. If he knew the boy's reasoning, he would have shot right to the head o the class. It was solid and sound.

Just as sound was his answer. A promising young man, this one was. "A good answer, thank you, Mr. Park. There is always a margin for human error that can make even the most accurate practices, inaccurate. It takes a keen mind--sharpening the mind. Focus. Discipline. If your mind is elsewhere or you don't pay close enough attention you may indeed miss what the flames are telling you."



Another silent one. Was an opinion really that hard to find?

"I do hope this contemplative silence is indication you're gearing up to answer the next question, Ms. McKinley." He said carefully, his tone indicating his words were not at all suggestions to be taken lightly. He was not teaching sacks of flour. He expected input.



"Another good point, one that should very much be taken into consideration before performing pyromancy outside." Tonight the weather was being cooperative. The wind wasn't something they would have to worry too much about but the man was still pleased the boy had raised the point.

"If the flames are distorted by their environment, it can most certainly lead to false readings." And those could quickly lead to disaster. "However it should be noted that wind interfering with the flames can and often is read as a bad omen."



He nodded at the Head Girl's response. Amazing what could happen when she stopped being entitled and applied herself. "Yes. In ancient times while sacrifices were being made to their gods, the seers would frequently try to interpret their responses either through the flames themselves or the smoke the fire emits."



She'd been going good until the 'however'. "It's not what I consider to be pyromancy, Ms. Greyvson. It's a set art. I believe what you mean to say is that within the overarching art, their are smaller divisions." Or perhaps she'd been hoping he would be more specific on the branch he was inquiring of but there was nothing to be specific about. "For now, I'm accepting stories from any of the subdivisions." If someone had an event regarding alomancy he would listen with the same interest as someone recalling another event about osteomancy.

"But you've raised some good points." He continued, hoping others were paying attention, especially those who had nothing to say themselves. "There have been notable groups of people who followed the practice in Greek society."




He offered the Ravenclaw a nod of confirmation. "Correct, Mr. Katharos. As Ms. Greyvson said, followers of the Greek god if fire and the forge, Hephaestus, were also known to take part in this form of divination."



Yet another student to receive a nod from the man. "Very good, Mr. Botros. Perspective does make this art just a little harder to accurately carry out. One might see a windmill and another may see nothing at all. Having the sight most definitely aids with this, as does a focused mind."

It could take literal years to develop the kind of ready mind that was needed and even then with other factors present, it was entirely possible to get separate readings.



This one however got a raise of his brow--for several reasons. Firstly, "Having various sub-divisions doesn't make something inconsistent, Mr. Choi." Ignoring the fact he'd just said the word "pyromancies". Why would he even come to such a nonsensical conclusion? "Once you know the form you're using, you can receive consistent results. I don't expect you'd be throwing salt into the fire to read the smoke. Transfiguration has several sub-branches and charms has a second branch known as dark charms. Would you consider either to be inconsistent?"

Pause. "But more importantly, who gave you permission to sit?" He questioned, taking just one step closer to the boy after seeing him shift on the log. Hadn't he learned his lesson from the others?

"You will drop and give me 25 push ups then remain standing for the rest of the lesson." Honestly.



That......admittedly was an interesting take on it. There was a moment's pause before the man replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Thomas. It's good when you can accept your short comings and know when it's best to get a more professional opinion on readings. Flames can be a little tricky to read and the human mind has a way of spiraling things out of proportion if allowed."

If he knew his eyes had a tendency to see things then it was just as well he let someone else read the fire with him. Just in case.



Of course he'd noticed that Mr. Kowalski still had his bag on when he left but the man would give him some time before considering him a walk out.

Every now and then, Fletcher looked down to his watch, only somewhat concerned when several students had returned and he had not. With the class now in full swing, he waited just another moment before deciding he would be seeing the Gryffindor later.

He was going to wish he had come back to class.



And another with a penchant for the dramatics.

Did he mind her yelling while she counted? Not at all, it gave him a play by play of her whereabouts. Ms. Spinnet was the one student he didn't have to actively question the whereabouts of. He knew when she got there, he could tell she was heading back. The man might have thanked her--in fact. "Very prudent of you, Ms. Spinnet. Good thinking on your part, well done. I was able to track you while you did the exercise. It put my mind at ease to know how diligently you were working." Really even if only to ruffle her feathers slightly.

"Good evening to you, too."

He watched her get her push ups done, noting it wasn't quite as energetic as the girl herself tended to be. Her silence afterwards he would attribute to fatigue rather than defiance, for her sake.

"I expect you'll have more to say next question." Yes, he did.



"Good evening. Ms. Destler." He replied to the First Year upon her return. He could tell she was a little winded but was pleased she'd returned in time for the lesson to begin. She wouldn't have been too happy otherwise.

"And yes, you're correct." The walk might have done her brain some good, getting those cogs turning. "The flames were a means of communication with their gods, serving as the means of interpreting their answers to the prayers of the people and passing along any messages they may have wanted to pass along to the people. It gave them an understanding of whether they had good or bad days coming."



He hadn't noticed her at first, too busy handing out punishments to others but the raise of her hand caught his attention and immediately brought a scowl to his expression. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Ms. McCarthy," Which he most certainly was not, "but I don't recall giving you permission to sit." His tone was icy as he appraised the young girl.

"I hope you've had your fill of that seat because you will stand for the remainder of the lesson. That is, of course, after you drop and give me 25 push ups. Be quick about it, we'll be moving to the next question soon and you're silence this round is assurance enough that you will respond to the next." Oh yes she would if she knew what was good for her.



He looked over the First Year, now somewhat put off because of the last student. "Has your brain shut down for the evening, Ms. Calavarez? Is an opinion so hard for you to form?" He chided. Not knowing the answer to the first question he would accept, but could she not tell him whether or not she thought pyromancy was an inaccurate art? All it required was a little introspection.

Merlin, these students. "I expect an answer to the next question."



The Hufflepuff got some sort of look for his enthusiasm at the idea of running and the way he bolted off but the man brushed it off. So long as the activity was done and the boys returned within reasonable time.

While they were gone, he distracted himself with the others he'd had to hand out punishment too, settling his attention on them once they returned. "Good evening Mr. Carden, Mr. Ashburry-Hawthorne." He returned to them both, satisfied they'd gotten it right this time around.

He paused a moment, noticing only one of the two bothered to answer the question when the lesson started. "Has the small run left you incapable of thought, Mr. Carden?" Was he not going to answer the question?



"Good evening, Ms. Goodman." He replied to her greeting, oblivious to any tears that may have been in her eyes or any panic that may have been setting in for her. What he DID notice, was her silence. "Your silence was what sent you running in the first place, Ms. Goodman. I suggest you have an answer to the next question."

As for the Hufflepuff Prefect who was....was.......the man blinked, uncertain of what he was seeing. Had the boy just.....sat??? He was on a roll tonight. First the lack of courtesy with the greeting, then not answering the question--as he was about to address--and now this? Calvin wasn't sure this boy was real at all. A figment of his imagination perhaps. "Next time, Mr. Ashburry-Hawthorne, I expect you to respond to the question that was actually asked." Was that really so har--

Did he just....had he really.....? Now the girl was sitting too? Circe, was this all really happening? What willful children they were turning out to be.

"What do you both think you're doing? Up, now. 25 push ups each and you will remain standing until the end of the lesson. As for you, Mr. Ashburry-Hawthorne, I don't know what's gotten into you tonight. I don't know what sense of entitlement has led to these actions but we'll find out when I see you in detention tomorrow evening." He'd had just about enough of these student leaders setting the WRONG example.