Minerva McGonagall eyed the fraternal twins sitting across from her with a stony expression, successfully hiding her skepticism. The boy, Corvus, looked strikingly familiar to her, but she couldn't figure out why. He was tall, standing at what she assumed had to be 6 feet, 2 inches, and was strikingly pale - he almost gave the Malfoy boy a run for his money. He had striking forest green eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul, a head of neatly parted and slicked back jet black hair, and what looked to be a curved scar in his left cheek that could almost pass for a dimple if one didn't look too closely. His hands were big, not very calloused, and his fingers were long and slim. His facial structure was almost feminine - narrow, with high cheek bones and a somewhat pointed chin. His lips had a unique fullness and a deep cupid's bow to them, and when he smirked his scar tugged the left side of his immaculate face a little higher than the right side. It was quite mesmerizing, really. He wore a simple grey jumper, a pair of black trousers, and what looked to be very expensive dress shoes, shined to perfection. All in all, Corvus was extremely handsome, in a very old-timey fashion. She could tell he'd prove to be quite the distraction for any female students that may come back for their 7th and 8th year educations.

"I apologize for my sister's lack of manners, Headmistress," he said, his Russian accent not as thick as she'd expect, given their upbringing. "She is always wary of new places and people." He shot his sister a glare that could send Satan himself scampering off with his tail between his legs. She was sitting in her seat with her ankles crossed, examining her perfectly manicured, black nails as if she owed the Headmistress none of her time, nor pleasantries and this meeting was a great inconvenience for her. If he isn't a Slytherin, then I'm a bloody centaur, Minerva mused. He reminded her very much of the Slytherin boys at that moment, polite and domineering at the same time, and with not so much as a small quirk to the corner of his lips to give away his impending fury. He may give the Malfoy boy a run for his money, after all. If he is sorted into Slytherin, I may just put a few galleons in with the Gryffindor lot on a bet that he'll be the new Slytherin Prince in the first month of the school year. She coughed into her handkerchief to try and stifle the snort she let escape at the thought.

"Oh, do shut up, Corvus," the girl, Pyxis, spat. She leered at her brother with her strikingly black eyes that seemed to glitter with malice. The girl was beautiful too, and again Minerva had that nagging feeling that these children looked exactly like someone she had known in the past. She still couldn't place it as she looked the girl over, hoping she was being as discreet as she thought. Her nerves were quite frayed after the war, she was jumpier and more paranoid than ever, and she was entirely too stressed for all the pressure Shacklebolt was putting on her to get the school repaired and running by September.

Pyxis was, truly, unique. She had a more petite and feminine facial structure than her brother, but it was almost identical. She had full lips like his, with the same deep Cupid's bow, a slender nose and almond shaped black eyes with just-thick-enough, perfectly arched and maintained eyebrows. Not dark brown, not grey, not any other color but black. She had seen those eyes before, but she couldn't remember where. Minerva believed those black eyes to be the very abyss that wise men warn you not to look into, lest it look back into you. One could look into those eyes and lose their very soul, she thought. Pyxis' jet black hair was also parted to the side, much like her brothers', but it fell in soft, shiny ringlets that flowed midway down her back. She was a slender girl, yet had the hourglass shape many women envied. She was tall for a woman, at around 5 feet, 8 inches... without the stiletto heels she currently wore that set her at just about two to three inches shorter than her brother. She wore a burgundy short sleeved, tight fitting button up with some cleavage showing, much to Minerva's displeasure, a pressed black pencil skirt, and of course her black peep-toe stilettos that showed off her perfecty pedicured (surprise, surprise) black toenails. Minerva hoped this girl wasn't just displaying this cold, disinterested facade for her benefit. If she kept this up during her interactions with the student body, she wouldn't have to worry her hair completely grey handing out detentions to randy school boys with loose lips and hands like tentacles. Merlin, help me! I have enough on my hands with the students whose necks I already want to wring year after year, and now I have the Trouble Twins migrating here from Durmstrang. I wonder if I was a murderer in a past life, and these are all karmic punishments. Yes, that must be it.

Minerva cleared her throat and waited for the twins to lower their hackles and cease their standoff. "Mister... Karkaroff, is it? Oh, that's interesting. A discussion for later, I suppose. The point of this meeting is to discuss your transfer to Hogwarts from Durmstrang. Transfers are always welcome, of course, and the two of you have quite the impressive transcripts and recommendations from your previous professors, but I have to ask - In light of the war, the horrendous damage to the castle and its grounds, and the low number of school mates in your year that survived the Battle of Hogwarts and have the will to return - why now? Why Hogwarts? Wouldn't it have been preferable to remain at Durmstrang, the school you are familiar with, and finish out your 7th and 8th years there? I mean no offense and I certainly wouldn't deny the two of you, but humor an old lady, would you?" She quirked a brow and put her elbows up on her desk, rather Dumbledore's old desk, and folded her hands, resting her chin on them as she looked Corvus in the eye and politely awaited his response. She wasn't disappointed. If anything, his response further piqued her curiosity. She resisted the urge to meet Dumbledore's eyes, who had been pretending to sleep in his portrait during the entire meeting, but had blinked open his eyes and sat up at the boy's response.

"Headmistress McGonagall, I can understand your curiosity. Surely, with our surnames being Karkaroff, it would be an odd request to leave Durmstrang and transfer to Hogwarts post-war. I can assure you we do not have any ulterior motives. If it is our surnames that bother you, well - we didn't have much choice in that matter - " He was cut off by his sister's rude snort, and with as much disdain as she could muster, she interjected and said (in her light Russian accent), "If I had known the man with the kind eyes, wide grin, and rampant facial hair was a tyrant in disguise, I'd have bludgeoned him to death with my own shoe right there in that orphanage, stopping him from that travesty of an adoption. Hindsight, as the muggles say, is 20/20, innit Corvus?"

Minerva had paled slightly at that, swallowing hard and saying nothing so they would continue to explain. She was sitting at the edge of her seat by now, enthralled by these facts about Igor Karkaroff that no one knew being divulged right here, in her office, and in such a belligerent manner.

"Again, please pardon my sister. She's got a nasty temper, the same as mine, it's just that I have disciplined myself over the years and learned to control it, whereas Pyxis does not care to. Karkaroff always told us it is in our blood, that our father's side of the family was famous for this temper," At Minerva's quirked eyebrow, wordlessly suggesting an explanation about their father, he continued quickly. "I suppose you're wondering who our father might be. The truth is, we don't know. We know nothing of our biological parents. Part of Karkaroff's twisted torture consisted of teasing us about knowing who our parents were, delighting in the fact that we are, in fact, Purebloods of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but refusing to tell us. He died with that secret, it seems." He shifted in his seat, very slightly, to cross one leg over the other and folding his hands together, resting them on his knee. "Back to my explanation, we wanted to get away from Durmstrang and Karkaroff for years. Unfortunately, as you can tell from the feral look on my darling sister's face, that was not possible and we suffered years of torment, torture, and trauma at the hands of Igor Karkaroff. Now that he is dead," as he said this, his sister grinned evilly at the floor, whispering "I hope you're charred to a bloody crisp, you old bastard", and he tilted his head slightly in a silent show of polite agreement before continuing, "we hope to finally become students at Hogwarts and endeavor to make top marks, meet new people with more than two ruddy brain cells to rub together, and to be... happy". His right eye twitched the slightest bit as he said the last word, as if it greatly disturbed him all the way down to his very core to say it.

"You see, Headmistress," Pyxis spoke, calmly and eloquently for the first time during this entire, odd experience, "what my brother is trying to say is that evil, old git basically held us prisoner in that awful school all these years and would never allow us to leave his clutches. We came here in the hopes of having a fresh start. My brother thought it would be beneficial for us to aid in the rebuilding of the school, giving us something productive to do that you obviously need help with, and in doing so we may feel we've earned our places here, if you'll have us. My brother's curiosity is piqued by the inter-house unity you plan on trying to implement, and I am curious about the myths, legends, and secrets I've heard about this castle. My brother and I have a shared interest in the curriculum here. You'll see from our transcripts that my brother and I both excel at wandless magic. My brother is quite talented in Transfiguration and Charms, and he's a right genius with Defense. I, however, am more talented in Potions, Charms, and Defense. We both look very forward to honing our skills with your staff, I can assure you we will not disappoint." Pyxis had looked directly into Minerva's eyes as she spoke, showing her the proper respect. Her hands were delicately folded in her lap, her legs still pressed together and crossed at the ankles like a proper lady. Minerva smiled at her. It seems she isn't as cold as I thought. Just needs some time to thaw out, I suppose. What an interesting young lady. Cold and detached, yet ambitious and proper. She will be an interesting one to watch as she makes her way into the school year.

"Well, I think that answers all my questions and satiates my curiosity", Minerva replied in her matter-of-fact tone she was so famous for. She winked at the both of them and said, "Welcome to Hogwarts, Mister Karkaroff, Miss Karkaroff!" She made a grand welcoming gesture, rising from her chair and spreading her arms wide with as big of a smile as she could muster on her wrinkled face. It wasn't often that she smiled like this, and it was awkward and uncomfortable. "I know the castle is still quite destroyed and seems unlivable, but the Slytherin Dungeons are fully functional and in good, livable shape. You both may take rooms down there, I will have Professor Snape show you to the Dungeons as soon as our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has had a moment to make a sweep and make sure they are pristine for you. I must warn you, however, that some students are expected to come within the next few days to stay and help rebuild the castle. The lot of them will be down in the Dungeons with the two of you, and it seems as though we will have a healthy mix of Slytherin, some Gryffindor, and even a Ravenclaw. Due to the nature of the Gryffindors and the Slytherins and their long-standing House rivalries, there may be some turbulence in the first couple of weeks. I suggest you two stay far away from it and don't get involved. Also, I know it seems silly, and I'm not sure if you know about our Sorting Hat, but I'll have to formally sort the two of you into houses at your leisure before the term starts, unless you'd like to be sorted at the Feast along with the First Years at the start of term?"

Pyxis snorted a laugh and Corvus' lips twitched into a smirk. "I believe we may as well just get this Sorting ordeal done here, privately, while we wait for Mr. Filch and Professor Snape. My sister does love to be the center of attention, but I believe being sorted with First Years in front of the entire student body on the first night may be a tad... unflattering." Corvus spoke evenly, despite the way he bristled at the idea of being publicly sorted with First Years.

"Very well, then. Let me speak with Argus and track Severus down. Feel free to help yourselves to some biscuits and tea in my absense. And, if Dippet's portrait starts trying to talk to you, feel free to ignore him. Nothing he says is of any use, anyway. Dumbledore may be interesting to chat with, however, given his wisdom, wit, and the fact that he has been pretending to sleep during this entire meeting so he could eavesdrop." With that, Minerva smirked at Dumbledore's portrait where he sat, looking affronted, and huffed a little at her before she left the office.

"Igor Karkaroff, you say? He was here for the Triwizard Tournament I'd say about, oh... four years ago? He brought that Quidditch brute with him, Viktor Krum I believe. I daresay that Krum boy must have some kind of charm, he wooed our very own Miss Granger. He took her to the Yule Ball, showed her off as a proper gentleman should. She had the time of her life that night," his eyes twinkled in that oh-so-familiar way as he fondly recalled the memory.

"I am sure she is one of the returning Gryffindors, so you'll meet her. I'll warn you now that she is quite bossy, but she's extremely loyal. A know-it-all bookworm. She will correct you on many things, she will be cross if you affect her studies in any way, and she can be found at any time, day or night, in the library. With that said, she really is a lovely girl. You just have to crack open that stubborn shell of hers." He paused, smiling at the twins and tapping his chin in thought as though trying to figure out what to say next.

"She's been the best friend of Harry Potter since their First Year and, if I do say so myself, is a huge factor in the reason he survives year after year. She is a force to be reckoned with, that one. She's a muggle-born, so she takes her studies very serious, you see. She wasn't quite familiar with the term "Mudblood", as awful as it is, when she first got here and it was slung at her by one of the Slytherin blood purists who, at that age, really didn't understand the propaganda he was being force fed since birth." He recalled young Mister Malfoy and sighed, looking lost in thought for a moment before he continued again, "

Once she understood blood purity, the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and what that awful word meant... she made it her mission to prove to all the blood purists that a Muggle-born could excel at anything that a Pureblood could do, and so far... she always has the top marks. The boy who called her a Mudblood, however, is always just a few points behind." At that, he chuckled a little, remembering all the spats Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy had engaged in throughout the years, how she went from crying as soon as he'd sling that awful word at her to fighting back and even calling him something along the lines of an "evil cockroach" once. Indeed, that girl was fearless and ruthless in her own right, and he was proud of her. He straightened in his chair, smoothed out his robes, and eyed the twins with a very pointed look and he knew he needed to end this long-winded explanation and get to the point.

"Do you two understand why I'm telling you this?" He hoped these two weren't the feral, foaming-at-the-mouth, blood purist pro-Voldemort types. The fact that they had been adopted and raised, albeit tortured, by Igor Karkaroff left him with questions he knew better than to be so forward as to ask outright. They are certainly intelligent enough to pick up on the underlying question: are you going to slink through these halls and spew slurs at half-blood and muggle-born students and cause more problems for Minerva? Or are you civilized types, intelligent enough to see Karkaroff and his prejudices and Death Eater status for exactly what it was... bigotry. Cowardice. Ignorance. Stupidity.

Pyxis graced Dumbledore with a genuine smile, Corvus politely tipped his head in acknowledgement and wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders to emulate a united front, before Pyxis spoke. "Headmaster Dumbledore, we know exactly what you are asking. I can assure you that, no, we are not bigots running around in Death Eaters robes and screaming about blood purity and muggle-borns trying to steal our magic. On the contrary, I personally like to learn about muggles. I read muggle magazines when I can find them, and I've read some muggle authored books. My brother and I don't care about blood purity, the Sacred Twenty Eight, and honestly, we are thrilled that Voldemort is dead. He was a disgrace, a psychopath, a rabid animal. It's about time Harry Potter put him down." Dumbledore raised his brows at this, a small smile coming to his lips as he mulled over their apparent knowledge of Harry and his efforts to destroy Voldemort. It was nice to see the boy appreciated, especially when it came to two random Pureblood Sacred Twenty-Eight descendants that were adopted by and named after a pretty nasty Death Eater.

"We celebrated when we heard the news. Living with Karkaroff was tedious - we never knew when he'd grab us up by the scruffs and thrust us to Voldemort's feet and force us into servitude to that madman. As awful as it is, and I can only speak for myself, I am glad Karkaroff betrayed the nutter and met his end. We might've had The Mark forced upon us otherwise." She shuddered at that, biting her lower lip in a clear display of anxiety, and turned a little into her brother's side, seeking comfort. The fear that Karkaroff would sell their souls to the devil, so to speak, was very real for years and she and Corvus had done all they could to avoid Karkaroff and hide from him lest he found them and offered them up. Every day felt like it might be the day their last little sliver of freedom was snatched from them forever.

Corvus picked up where his sister left off, wrapping his arm a little tighter around her to comfort her, knowing that these were the fears that caused her so many nightmares night after night. He couldn't remember the last time they had a full night of sleep... the last time they ever rested, really. For the last couple of years, they took turns sleeping and keeping watch, prepared for Karkaroff to completely succumb to his madness and offer them up to Voldemort like sacrificial lambs. Though they were talented with their magic, especially wandless magic, Pyxis slept with a large buck knife under her pillow at night. He hoped bringing her here to Hogwarts would give them both some peace, and most importantly - long nights of restful, peaceful sleep.

"What we are trying to say, Headmaster Dumbledore, is that we will never be a problem in that aspect. We came here to get away from that life, from that oppression and toxicity. I can assure you, if I hear anyone even mutter that awful slur at that poor girl, Miss Granger, isn't it? Yes. If I hear someone so much as utter the word towards her or any other muggle-borns, I shall step in and diffuse the situation. No scuffles, just a polite reminder, perhaps, that maybe they should step out from their dark little holes and come into the real world where we do not believe in, nor support, propaganda and ignorance like that and it will never be tolerated." His eyes glittered dangerously, and the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk that hitched the left side of his face up a little, and Dumbledore caught the underlying meaning.

Dumbledore was certain this boy was destined for Slytherin, since those few well-spoken and polite sentences literally meant, "Whoever dares to utter such slurs at any student in my presence will find themselves in a Full Body-Bind in the Forbidden Forest, left to the Centaurs to do as they please, and hopefully the Acromantulas to dispose of." He winked at the twins and was about to reply when he heard the door open and several footsteps shuffle back into the office.

Corvus and Pyxis turned back around in their seats, ready to politely introduce themselves to Professor Snape and this Filch person, when they were met with Minerva, a tall man with a sneer on his face and greasy black hair, and three young men that looked to be their age. Corvus had an instinctual urge to pull his sister closer to his side and wrap his arm back around her shoulders, but he already knew these boys were Slytherins, and they were Purebloods, and he knew that if he showed any kind of protectiveness over his sister around them, he would be doing the equivalent of offering them his jugular to puncture. He remained calm, cool, and collected as he had been during their meeting with Headmistress McGonagall, and slightly quirked a brow at the crowd before himself and Pyxis, re-crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands together, setting them down on his knee with a grace and elegance that came quite naturally to him.

He dared not look at his sister to read her reaction. He knew she'd find these men attractive, he knew she'd flirt, and he knew she'd do it to piss him off and cause him to react. He also knew she could hold her own. They did, after all, rule Durmstrang with an iron fist, and they had quickly proven themselves and clawed their way up the social ranks in their First Year alone. This would be no problem. Dealing with rocks-for-brains, knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing neanderthals the size of brick houses whose instincts were purely primal when it came to... disagreements... had trained the twins quite well in dealings with other witches and wizards. If they could run Durmstrang, and survive Karkaroff, this would be a cakewalk.

"Mister Karkaroff, Miss Karkaroff, I would like to introduce you to our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Snape," Professor Snape made some kind of sound between a grunt and a snort, which told Corvus all he needed to know about the man - he'd be a real prick. Corvus and Pyxis, noting that this Professor made no move to shake their hands and make a proper acquaintance, remained seated in their chairs and gave slight nods in return.

"These three arrived just moments ago, it seems, which is quite fortunate for you two since you'll be dorming together and they can show you around the Castle. This here is - " but Minerva didn't get to finish, because Pyxis had cut her off. "Yes, the Malfoy boy. Draco, I presume? We've heard about you." She sneered at him, leaning slightly back in her chair in a more relaxed position, lifting her right arm from the armrest and resting her chin on her fingers, her eyes boring into his as if daring him to make a retort. Corvus was careful not to let his expression change as he stifled the laughter trying to come up his throat at his sister's blatant disregard for what was once revered as "wizarding royalty". The pale, platinum blond man's eyes widened for a split second before he put on a polite smile and said, "Pleased to meet you, Karkaroffs," and then leaned back against the wall, hands in his trouser pockets, keeping his eyes locked on Pyxis.

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to force away the migraine that was sure to come during this exchange, if Pyxis' belligerent dislike for the Malfoy boy was anything to go on. She decided to plow through and get this over with as quickly as she could so she could shoo them out of her office and maybe, just maybe, pop open a bottle of some fine elf wine and drown her sorrows just a bit. At Snape's nearly pleading look, which was usually code for "You interrupted me for this stupidity? How much more must I endure in my ongoing debt to a dead wizard, Minerva?", she motioned for him to take his leave. He swept from the room soundlessly, slamming the door behind him. The remaining group ignored it.

"This is Blaise Zabini, also a Slytherin, and next to him is Theodore Nott... another Slytherin," Minerva finished. Blaise and Theo actually stepped forward to properly greet the twins, who in turn stood from their chairs and shook hands, muttering polite "hello's", "pleased to meet you's" and "thank you's".

Pyxis noticed Blaise seemed to be not only good looking, but charming. He had a very confident air about him, as if the world was at his feet and he was King. Somehow, it wasn't repulsive. There was no cockiness there, just confidence. Pyxis hated arrogant men. She had a feeling this one would be an outrageous, shameless flirt, and fun to banter with. This one, most certainly, will be my brother's undoing. He will go bloody mental, I can already sense it. This one will feel my brother's wrath if he isn't careful... but he will be so fun to play with, she mused. She winked at Blaise and bit her lip, a subtle but sultry gesture, already planning to wrap him around her long, slender, perfectly manicured finger. He winked back at her and threw her a small, charming smile, and even though the smile was innocent enough - she could see the lust burning in his pretty hazel eyes. While she had been assessing Blaise, Theo and Corvus seemed to be sizing each other up. It seemed quite tense until Theo broke out into a Cheshire Cat-like grin and said "Well, if we're all good and acquainted, why don't we get you two Sorted? Unless, of course, you're too shy to do it in front of us lot". He was breaking the tension, she noticed. Tension that she had caused as soon as she jumped down that fucking nearly-translucent apparition with a scowl on his face, still leaning against the wall. She grinned. Oops...

"We've never been shy. Headmistress McGonagall, would you mind? We'll get the Sorting out of the way right now." Corvus announced, tucking his hands behind his back and giving Minerva a winning smile. She grabbed the worn, battered, defeated looking hat and shook it slightly. "Come on, you! This is no time for laziness! You have a job to do!" She chastised, knowing the hat, like Dumbledore often did, was faking being asleep. "Oi! Not so rough, Minerva, have you gone 'round the bend?! I AM A HAT. I FOUGHT IN THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS. I HAVE BEEN GRABBED, MANHANDLED, MISHANDLED, THROWN, CAVITY SEARCHED BY LONGBOTTOM'S GRUBBY MITTS, I HAVE BEEN UNWILLINGLY STUFFED WITH THE SWORD OF GYFFINDOR - " Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose, again, before casting a Silencing Charm on the perturbed hat. She looked sheepishly at the twins. "My apologies. In his current... state... he is a bit hostile and cranky. He'll get over it. I like to just let him scream it out until he's done... silently, of course." She sighed and sank back down into her chair, leaning over her desk and holding her head in her hands while she contemplated maybe throwing the Sorting Hat into the lake.

A few minutes later, the Silencing Charm was lifted, the Hat stopped its infernal screaming, and it was placed first over Corvus' head. The Malfoy boy was examining his nails, effortlessly pulling off a disinterested facade. Blaise and Theo looked on in anticipation, both leaning against Headmistress McGonagall's desk to see first-hand the impending events. The hat burst out into boisterous laughter, yelling "SLYTHERIN!" as loud as he could. Corvus smirked, and patted his sister's hand. "Didn't even have to root around in that brilliant mind of yours, you know," the Hat said to Corvus. "You belong nowhere else but in Slytherin. You're brilliant, yes, loyal and courageous too, but you are also a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. If your sister is your blood, then she is the same, and I'm sure placing me on her head won't be necessary, but formalities are formalities! I haven't graced the head of a Gaunt in many, many decades, my boy. This is quite an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say, Headmistress?"

It seemed like the entire room stopped. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Corvus had to quiet his rioting mind to try and listen for his heartbeat, it was so quiet and nobody was moving or even breathing so he was wondering if he might've dropped dead and this was all just some weird kind of death-dream. It couldn't be, though, because his heart did indeed start pounding, as if trying to rip itself from his chest. Minerva paused, not yet placing the hat on Pyxis' head after removing it from Corvus'. She looked at Corvus, then down at Pyxis, and had an unreadable expression on her worn, tired face. "... Descendant... of Salazar Slytherin?" Corvus asked, making sure to keep his voice even and emotionless. He tapped his chin in thought, mulling this over in his head. Descendant of Salazar Slytherin? Gaunt? Why does the name Gaunt sound familiar to me? Is this part of that "Sacred Twenty Eight Pureblood" nonsense Karkaroff always spewed at us? But if we are descendants of Slytherin and Gaunt... that means... oh, Merlin. We are related to bloody Voldemort! He rested his arms calmly down on the armrests of his chair and expertly masked his fear.

Pyxis looked as if she had just been run over by the bloody Hogwarts Express. She didn't bother trying to hide her bewilderment and her shock. "But, Corvus, that would mean..." Her eyes widened, and she turned slowly to look into her brother's forest green eyes. He nodded at her, slowly, and laced his fingers through hers. All he said was, "let Headmistress McGonagall put the hat on you. Let's get this done, and we will figure this out later". His words seemed to have reassured Pyxis, because the shock on her face was quickly replaced with a mask of indifference as she beckoned Minerva forth with one hand and allowed the hat to be placed on her head. The Sorting Hat bellowed "SLYTHERIN!" as loud as it could, yet again, as soon as it touched the crown of her head, and he cackled. She sat as still and poised as she could, with her spine as straight as could be, and listened as the hat went into another tirade.

"My, my! Two Gaunts! Two descendants of Salazar Slytherin! But neither speak Parseltongue... how curious. My dear, your mind amazes me. If you hadn't been a Slytherin and a Gaunt, I might've sent you into Ravenclaw. As for your brother, he might very well have ended up in Gryffindor, both would be an absolute travesty given your family history... at least, on your mother's side. And you both are named after Karkaroff, but he isn't your real father... what a mystery, indeed! Looks like you lot have a lot to think about. Better start digging into those archives at the Ministry, or even the library here. I may just be more excited and enthralled by this than the two of you put together!" At this point, Minerva had a full-on migraine and had enough of the Sorting Hat. She looked apologetically at Pyxis and Corvus and snatched the Hat, casting another Silencing Charm on him and putting him away in a far off corner where they might not be bothered by him anymore.

"Fucking hell," Draco muttered, wide-eyed at this point and looking back and forth between the twins. Minerva tsk'ed at him for his language and he muttered a meaningless apology before nodding at Blaise and Theo and strutting out of the office to wait in the corridor. Blaise and Theo seemed to have tact, and proper manners, because they kept their expressions neutral, made no remarks, and looked to the Headmistress for orders. Minerva sighed and lifted her gaze to the twins before her. "This is a lot of information for the two of you to take in. My apologies for the Hat's lack of subtlety and tact. I suppose we should meet again to discuss this new information, if you'd like. In the meantime... I know the two of you despised Karkaroff, and it isn't wise in this post-war mess to mention the name 'Gaunt', so I'd like to know what the two of you would like to be called."

Corvus and Pyxis shared a look, both seeming to communicate without words, before they nodded firmly at each other and stated, in perfect unison "We'd like to be Mister Gaunt and Miss Gaunt, Headmistress". Minerva just about had a stroke, right there in the office, in that stiff, uncomfortable chair that was entirely too big for her smaller body. She was silent for awhile, too shocked to say anything or form any thoughts. Descendants of Salazar... descendants of Gaunts! This means they are related to Voldemort. Niece and nephew? Great niece and nephew? But that means Merope must have had another child. Or is it possible that Morfin had a child? No, if either Morfin or Marvolo had more children that, in turn, bore children, they'd be much older than these two. Merope must've had another... or Morfin had a child, and that child bore these two children. But who? Who is their father? Who would know these secrets? No one had seen or heard from Merope for a long time, and she's long dead now. What will Harry Potter do? Will he even recognize the name? I may need to meet with the boy upon his return... IF he returns... poor boy has seen more death and destruction in his short years due to that homicidal maniac, and now I have two of his relatives in my office, clueless to their origins and who their real parents are. Merlin, I've really stepped in it this time!

"As you wish, my dears. However, be aware that students and faculty alike may be aware of the Gaunt name. You'll be assaulted with questions, maybe even insults... maybe some hexes. In a post-war era like this, I assume most students, especially the ones who took part in the war, will jump to conclusions out of fear. Beware of hexes and curses. Defend yourselves, but do not all-out duel in my halls, understood?" The twins nodded, Blaise and Theo still standing by the Headmistresses desk, looking a bit out of place and uncomfortable, and Minerva dismissed them all.

As the twins neared the door, about to slip out after Theo and Blaise, Minerva called out to them. "I will do my best, if Harry Potter decides to return, to catch him and assure him the situation is new and under control and the two of you are not a threat. After all of his... dealings... with Voldemort, I'm sure you understand why he may 'fly off the handle', so to speak, if he recognizes the Gaunt name. He knows more about Voldemort than anyone should. I don't know how he sleeps at night. He will not come after you, I assure you, but gaining his trust and his backing will do the both of you a lot of good if anyone is still experiencing... aftershocks, if you will, from the final battle."

"Thank you, Headmistress McGonagall," they replied, again in perfect unison, before joining the three Slytherins in the corridor. Corvus kept a straight face, standing at his full height with his hands in his pockets and scanning his surroundings, making it clear that he was not to be approached about what happened in that office.

Pyxis however, in true Pyxis fashion, took a few tentative steps down the corridor in a very calm manner, before she hissed and threw her hands up in the air. "What the FUCK just happened, Corvus?! We came here to live BETTER lives! Not to become a bloody spectacle and the unfortunate, accidental arch-nemeses of the CHOSEN ONE!" She thrust a hand through her hair, shaking it out towards the bottom as she often did when she was flustered. She turned around to face her brother, biting her lip in thought. Finally realizing she had an audience for her little outburst, she thrust up her chin and smoothed out her skirt before she said, "Well? Which one of you serpents is going to show me to the Dungeons? Keep in mind that wherever I go, my brother does too." Her eyes had an evil, creepy glint in them that made Theo a little nervous. Blaise, ever the charming gentleman, offered her his arm and escorted her to the Dungeons with Draco, Theo, and Corvus in tow, Corvus glaring at the back Blaise's head the entire way, watching his every movement and making sure the slick serpent didn't try anything untoward on his sister. It was a good thing he was so well practiced in burning holes in peoples' skulls while walking in unfamiliar territories, because he might've fallen off the moving staircase he hadn't been expecting to step onto otherwise.