Rumors swept the halls when Duncan was first hired as a professor, that he was half-giant. And though he didn’t know much about magic growing up, being raised by his single mother in a rather quiet seaside muggle town, He’d surely have some idea of his mammy having relations with a 20 foot creature.

But anyone who knew Duncan from when he was a shy, lanky muggleborn student in his schools years would shut those rumors down immediately.

“Professor Pennytree, why is its mouth moving like that?” Chimes Leslie Welling, a third year ravenclaw who points at the Fwooper in her partner’s hand. Angus Tully, a Gryffindor, tries to stick his finger into the Fwooper’s mouth, tapping away at its beak incessantly.

“No!” Duncan blurts out a little too strongly, and the entire class whips their heads his way with tense shoulders.

He feels the tips of his ears prickle with heat at all of the eyes on him. He’s a bumbling, lenient fool when it comes to disciplining his students, he’ll be the first to admit.

But when it comes to his creatures? Their safety will always be his top priority. Very rarely does he allow his students to handle a creature, especially if they are small. In the classes he does, he will hover over their shoulders, taking the creature back at the slightest hint of mishandling, even if it is accidental.

“I’m sorry, Angus. Give her here…” Scrambling over to the Gryffindor boy, Duncan carefully hovers behind him and scoops the small creature up in his hands. The Fwooper’s wings flap indignantly for a moment before they still, curling up in Duncan’s gentle palms.

“Right, ah… that’s another thing I should mention.” He stretches out his arm, entrancing the class with the Fwooper that hops along his forearm and perching comfortably on the sleeve of his robes, its fluorescent pink feathers ruffling.

“See how its mouth was moving but there’s no noise?” He says gently, moving closer to the observing students so they can get a good look at the bird. Some gawp, others take a step back, unnerved by its exotic nature. “That’s a silencing charm… can anyone tell me why this bird needs to be silenced?”

“Because its song is their defense mechanism, sir. It’s known to drive the listener to insanity…” Someone answers from the back of the group. Chloe Leiman, another Ravenclaw.

“Yes!” Duncan calls out proudly, a habit he has trouble containing whenever a student actually does work in his class. Paying attention to the lesson shows him they not only care about the material but also for the creatures themselves. What more could he ask for?

After the students clean up from their brief hands-on session with their Fwoopers, he sends them back to the castle once the period was over.

He still had much to do before going to bed tonight. There were the flobberworms he had to get more soil for, round up more squirrels for the hippogriffs, his bowtruckle he would have to sing to sleep (there was a thunderstorm forecasted for tonight)

He would most likely have to sleep in the hut again tonight. Just to make sure everyone’s happy…

“Only two more days till the moon’s full… Hey— none of that, Ellis! You share, just like everyone else…” Duncan warns, distributing the feed with careful eyes among the flock of moon calves until the bucket was empty.

When he hears the sounds of leaves crunching under rhythmic footsteps, he realizes that he has more company than his creatures. Something that happens rarely, someone coming to the hut, which is stationed at the edge of the forbidden forest, after class hours.

Straightening up, he turns to investigate only for his knee to collide with the wooden pen.

“Oh—! Arse…” He hisses under his breath, bringing a hand to his knee where there will surely be a bruise later before walking to the front of the hut, seeing you approaching.

“Hello…” He scratches his head, smoothing down his robes and sparing a glance at the setting sun as it starts to disappear being the castle. “What brings you out here?