Her job interview with Headmaster Dumbledore went well, other than those weird questions he asked about werewolves and Death Eaters.

Her first thought was that Dream from The Sandman comics had come to visit, but then Charity's words "emo or goth" sparked recognition in her brain.
 
 

It wasn't until the middle of that first week that, looking for texts for her students to begin translating, Clio found a need to borrow a few books from the library. Despite any evidence to the contrary, her only interest was in books. Right? Maybe.

"Minerva, I believe you have a question," Dumbledore said.

"Yes," she said, looking suddenly very fierce. "Who is responsible for the kappa in the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor?"

She waited, heart pounding, until the door had slid shut before picking up the scrap and unfolding it. Written in a tight spidery script were several names.

"Burn after reading," read the smaller script below the list.

After she'd tagged it and left it under the tree in the staffroom, Clio couldn't stop herself from peering at some of the other tags, looking for her own gift.

"Snooping, are we?" sneered a cold voice behind her. She hastily dropped the box she had just been hefting.

"Stored within these cabinets are boxes and boxes filled with the evidence of our extra-curricular activities," Remus said, scanning the cabinets until he found the one he was looking for.

"Here we go," he said, pulling open a drawer and thumbing through the dusty cards within. His eyes glowed as he relived the incidents that had led to each card's creation.

That spring swept over and past her much too quickly, leaving her with a collection of bittersweet memories, all blending together in her mind like a photo collage in one of her albums.

Clio looked around spotted a giant bat floating in the air; a deeper shadow among shadows near the whomping willow. But that didn't appear to be the source of Nox's anxiety. An ill wind blew and the temperature dropped. The dog crouched low to the ground, tail tucked between her legs. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Clio looked up. Dementors, dozens of them, maybe a hundred or more, glided high overhead.

Her end of the year review was the last ordeal Clio had to endure before leaving school for the summer. It would be a blessing, she thought, if she were asked to pack her bags and never return.