Randwoth was listening to the young Gryffindor plead as he was struggling to put words together, too busy catching breath and recovering from his collision. The young student was one Randwoth recognizes very well, but then students never leave the planes of his memories.

"Doing unnecessary rounds around the premises again are we, James?" Randwoth held his serious face, squinting behind his sagging glasses. He adjusted it then broke into a chuckle as he patted James. "Off you go, you will want to attend Hagrid's class today." 

Randwoth walled away, he headed over to professor Draven's quarters as he strolled about the corridors and halls, smiling back at the greetings of nervous students and unaccounted staff. It was unusual for the headmaster to approach his deputy instead of the opposite, it was also unusual for the headmaster to stroll throughout the castle in the morning. But Randwoth was nothing usual, and nothing orthodox was about his means. 

As he slowly strolled with both hands behind his back, he sang with stressed accented 'r's:

" There once was three kings then two,
And over the throne a plot they brew,
ravens were killed and a mortal Hambrew.."