Chaperoning? I wish it were Champagne.

[ooc: I did a bit of improvising. XD Hope it works.]


Ben really, truly did not want to think about what he had planned for the day. It wasn't like he disliked children - particularly with the orphanage and the kids - but he had learned very quickly that children had no qualms about saying exactly what they thought. And he knew that, if he wasn't careful, they might see. And if they saw, they would either ask, or recognize. And that would mean bad news for the school outing he was meant to be volunteering for.

"Papa, really, we have to go!"

Looking down, he saw that Tim had his sweater and mittens on looking like a proper little man. Reaching out, Ben adjusted the little Wimbourne Wasps beanie on the boy's head, trying to cover the tops of Tim's ears. Ben didn't particularly like Winter, but Tim seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps the other children did, too, and that was why they were headed out to a Christmas tree farm, for the cocoa and hay rides and whatever else came up at those places.

So he held tight to Tim's hand and they appeared outside the school, Tim feeling a little topsy after the apparition. He had done it many times now, but it never particularly suited him, it seemed. Ben found himself wishing, just for a moment, that Bae hadn't had to teach that day. But then, Bae taught every day, and Ben could get off work whenever, essentially. There was no real reason for him to feel distraught in being at the school. None at all. He gave presentations and whatever else all the time. But children were vastly different from board room men or his clients.

Merlin, he wished their family had just been skipped over. Why couldn't the next kid's parent come?

"Papa?"

"Right," Ben said quickly, "sorry. Let's go on in."

He held the door open for Tim, watching at the little boy took off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket for later. Smart lad, Ben mused, as though boys Tim's age wouldn't think of such things. The day would truly be a lesson for him, he realized suddenly. At any rate, they made it to the classroom in question and Tim pushed open the door before bounding across the room to talk to his friends. Ben, abandoned in the doorway, wandered in to find Miss Woods. He'd met her once at the start of the year, but he usually just met Tim outside, or Bae picked him up at the end of the day.

He too took off his gloves, followed by his scarf. He'd forgone a hat, which was probably for the better considering his hair was already a mess without it. But either way, the gloves went in his pockets to match Tim, and the scarf was held in one hand as he approached the teacher.

"Hello," he greeted pleasantly, offering his right hand and smiling to cover up his quiet distaste for the whole thing. "Tim said it was our turn to chaperone, so just let me know what you need me to do and I'll see to it."

[This is inexcusably late. I'm sorry. I can only hope Ella's obnoxiousness will eventually make up for it XD]

There were few things Ella both dreaded and enjoyed more in her job than school trips. Day trips, of course, because they still had a long way to go before reaching a stage of development that allowed for anything more. But they were dreaded because taking a classful of 5-6 year olds across the city on a crowded coach was obviously not an ideal situation for any sane adult (they hadn't yet managed to secure permission for floo-use but a girl could- and did indeed- dream), and enjoyed because she'd helped plan these very exciting and educational trips and so she'd damn well be having a whale of a time on them, thank you very much.

At the moment, perky fresh from the day's first cup of coffee and still in the safe space of the child-proofed classroom, she was still in enjoyment mode, the inevitable exhaustion and panic not yet on the horizon.

In fact, when Tim skipped in, Ella had just raised her voice to make a last call for-

"Any more last minute permission slips?"

Her question was drowned out by the excitement bubbling in the room, and for a brief second she considered casting a sly Accio to ensure no children were later disappointed by their own carelessness. Enough weird things had happened in this classroom that even the muggle children wouldn't question a few floating pieces of paper. It was part and parcel of blending the two worlds together. Right? And anyway, children forgot. All the time. As evidenced by her having to ask the question in the first place.

She was just sliding her wand out of her back pocket when a gentle pull on her sleeve turned her attention to the tiny blonde holding out a piece of paper shyly. Ella smiled, exclamation speaking of a greater excitement than a small slip of paper should ever warrant.

“Thank you, Violet. Well done for remembering!”

The little girl beamed, pigtails bobbing, and skipped off. Ella turned to place the slip in the folder kept for the purpose, when Tim's dad and her volunteer mule co-chaperone for the day, now divested of his scarf and gloves, stepped forward, smiling stiffly and looking decidedly on the opposite end of the enjoyment-dread spectrum.

She shook his hand with a warm greeting and an easy smile on her lips- that all too quickly morphed into one of mischief as he spoke.

“Well, Mr. Pierson- a spot of enthusiasm would be a fantastic start,” she said, brow raise just as teasing as her tone, “but pending that, I’ll settle for rounding these little buggers up and getting them to sit down on the carpet.”

Only one part of that statement wasn't serious, and it wasn't the part her tone might suggest. They didn't call Ella the Kid Whisperer for nothing (ah, the mysterious and ever-reliable 'they'). She clapped quickly once, twice, three times, waving her charges over excitedly with her hands once their attention had been grabbed. They were familiar enough with the routine that they quickly bustled over, stragglers dragged by their more eager friends until they were all more or less clustered around her on the rug. All the while Ella kept the enthusiasm cranked up, the morning caffeine fix doing its job.

“Alright everyone! This is Mr. Pierson. He’s Tim’s dad and he’s going to come with us to the farm today. So I want you all to be on your absolute best behaviour. Now why don't we all say hello to Mr. Pierson!”

“Good mor-ning Mr. Pier-son!” they trilled, turning as one to direct toothy grins, furious waves and the odd tentative frown his way. A terrifying sight for lesser men, but she had the utmost faith in Tim's dad. Probably. Possibly. Was he still grimacing?

She quickly ran through the class rules for trips- not too many, it wasn't the time to train the goldfish out of them- and made the compulsory packed lunch, spending money, and identification badge checks before releasing them from her thrall to grab their coats and bags and form an orderly- emphasis on orderly- queue to await launch.

As they crowded over to form a disorderly line by the door, Ella took the chance to pull on her own coat, gloves, and scarf- as colourful as befitted a beacon of safety and emergency such as herself- and slip the folder into her bag, grinning over to Ben as she did so.

“Marie’s mum was meant to be helping too but she’s called off sick last minute. So it’s just you and me, I’m afraid. Think you can manage? They don’t bite- most of the time.”

On that ominous note (no part of which was a joke, not at all), she pushed open the door and unleashed the hell-hounds into the corridor, keeping pace with them easily on long(er) legs, ready to swing into full-alert outdoor mode the second the coach was in sight.

(And she cast that silent Accio just in case.)