Thousands upon thousands of glistening candles floated about five long, wooden tables. The weak light shone on a sea of pointed black hats, on the heads of students. A few of them were chatting with one another, while newer students still captivated by the majesty of the castle stared with wonder at the ceiling, bewitched to appear the exact reflection of the weather outside. Currently, the sky was a stormy gray, swirling with threatening black clouds. A few flashes of lightning forked across the sky, and a few seconds later, thunder rumbled, threatening those within earshot. There was a feeling of tension in this grand hall - eyes wandered nervously, from place to place, yet all eyes wandered back to the cavernous oaken doors leading into the hall.

Almost as expected, the doors flew open. Yet the line of petrified first years was led by two people, rather than one. The first was a tall wizard, with a white beard to rival both his height and the appearance of power that radiated from his form. He was, of course, Albus Dumbledore - Hogwarts' Headmaster. Behind him, a woman that was tall, though paled in comparison to the power of the archaic yet active Headmaster, followed almost resentfully. Her cold blue eyes were narrowed, occasionally grazing the masses of students that stared wordlessly at her. Most, of course, had not laid eyes on such a woman, dressed in robes that looked as if they cost nearly an entire vault at Gringott's to purchase. This woman's name was Charna Anwen Beaumont Wellington of London, though most were too in awe, or of reverence, or of fear to speak her full name. Most never dared.

As soon as the line of first years had formed in front of the eyes of the anxious student body, Dumbledore beamed. He opened his arms to the crowd of students, all sitting at the tables with empty plates and goblets, their stomachs growling almost viciously against the skin around the abdominal area. "Welcome," he began, "to another year at Hogwarts. Yet, before the Sorting begins," he continued, gesturing to the three-legged stool with the tattered old hat perched atop it, "I have a few announcements. First of all, security around the castle has been increased, as you all know - or at least those of you who rode carriages into school …."

A boy with flaming red hair nudged the boy next to him - a pale teenager with jet black hair and large, emerald green eyes. "You're telling me," Ron whispered quietly to Harry, his companion. "Dragons - I'll bet Hagrid is having a regular fair day with it," he followed, grinning half out of fear, but out of happiness for their friend. Ever since they had first met Hagrid in their first year, he had been obsessed with magical creatures. It pained Ron to recollect the memory of that poisonous dragon bite, given to him by the pet dragon Hagrid had named 'Norbert.' In third year, Hagrid had become the Care of Magical Creatures instructor. Out of thought, Ron glanced up at the staff table, where he noticed Professor McGonagall was missing, as well as the place for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. There had been rumors that the position had not been filled, as most believed it to be cursed - of course that was ludicrous.

"It's field day, Ron," Harry corrected. A girl with bushy brown hair eyed the pair of them. "Shh," Hermione mumbled, staring her two best friends into silence.

Trying vainly to pay attention, yet not entirely succeeding, as the grumbling in his stomach was too distracting, Harry squinted at the blonde woman standing beside Dumbledore. He noticed that Snape, the Potions Master, did not look to happy about her presence there. "….. your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be arriving tomorrow, and I am expecting the person by breakfast time." Here, Dumbledore allowed himself a smile, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses. "As many of you have noticed, Professor McGonagall is absent, due to reasons of her own - I have the pleasure of introducing one Miss Charna Wellington, who will be your temporary Transfiguration instructor."

'Order business, I'll bet my firebolt,' Harry thought to himself.

There was a polite smatter of applause, and Dumbledore took a seat. The Sorting Hat began its usual song, in an inventive new way of telling of the Four House's qualities. One could wonder, after some time being a Sorting Hat, how it could come up with so many versions of the same thing. There was a roar of approval as the song was finished, and thus began the most (to some) boring part of the Sorting. Now holding a scroll in her hands, the woman introduced as Charna began to call off the names of students. She spoke in a regal drawl, one that was common of those in her obviously high class bearing. Yet she only really took interest when the Sorting Hat shouted out "SLYTHERIN!" This was because the woman herself had been a Slytherin.

After the Sorting was completed and the Hat whisked away to its proper place in Dumbledore's office, Charna took a seat, well aware of the stares received by her new colleagues. Responding, Charna only sneered as a plate full of food appeared magically before her, after which she focused herself on her silent dinner, eating in the fashion of a nineteenth century noble. Occasionally, the Headmaster would lean over and whisper something in Charna's ear, to which she would smile, and mutter something back in an undertone. To the right side of Charna sat Severus Snape, the greasy haired Potions Master. Unexpectedly, Snape broke the normal routine of his habitual eating procedures to talk with this woman as well.

"Wellington," he whispered in her ear, almost as if the name were an insult - perhaps poison that he needed to be rid of. "What are you doing here?" His second question was both puzzled and confused. To this, the woman who sneered so much it seemed unhealthy took a ladylike sip of her pumpkin juice.

"Have you not heard the Headmaster, Severus? I'm teaching here."

'Bloody great way to start the year,' Snape thought to himself.