By Marie Noire
Chapter Four : Unwelcome AdviceChantal watched over her students as they finished up their work for the day, writing in-class essays and what they thought the relationship between music and magic might be. So far, her first week of classes had gone well. The Slytherin students were as challenging as she remembered them and they certainly gave her a run for her galleons… but thus far no one had given her any major trouble. Of course, having Remus vouch for her to his classes helped, as did having several relatives in the upper levels of the Ministry of Magic. Malfoy had presented a few episodes of disturbance, and she swore that if he started one more sentence with "My father says…" she would not be held responsible for whatever spell she threw at him. Luckily, after a mention or two of the fact that Lucius Malfoy was not there, Draco settled down. She had long prided herself on her calm, cool, and collected demeanor in front of an audience… a gift she was immensely grateful for now.
At present, she had the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in her class, including the unwillingly-famous Harry Potter. She couldn't get over how much he looked like James… all except for the fact that Lily's eyes looked out from behind those studious glasses. It was easy to see why Remus had been in such a turmoil during his first time teaching at Hogwarts… seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione all together was like witnessing themselves as youngsters… déjà vu all over again. It was more than a little disconcerting.
"Eh bien, class… time is almost up. Finish up your last thoughts while I make an announcement." She called, pleased by the quickly ending sound of scribbling quills. "I am pleased to announce that Headmaster has given me the go-ahead for an inter-house group… a choir, if you will. Meetings will be held every Tuesday after supper and every Thursday before breakfast… so being a night owl or an early bird is no excuse not to join. This is open to any student who want to participate, so I expect a good number of responsible students. We'll be preparing a program for the last supper before Christmas break and learning a few extra musicology spells to use there. Anyone interested should see me after class or just sign your name on the sign-up sheet on my office door."
She was not surprised by the hand of Hermione Granger shooting straight up in the air like a speeding rocket.
"Miss Granger?"
"Will this club count for extra credit for this class, Professor Duquesne?" she asked eagerly.
"I have decided that there will be several solo pieces offered… those students skilled enough to procure them will secure points for their house… but I will not take participation into account for your actual grades. You need to divide your time between work and play on your own." Chantal answered promptly. "Any other questions?"
A Ravenclaw boy nervously raised his hand. "Professor… do we have to… sing?"
"Not necessarily, Henry… those of you who do not consider yourselves singers can help out with the other various duties as stagehands and such." She smiled, aware of this particular student's shyness. "Everyone got that? Good… class dismissed."
She was, however, a little surprised when several students remained at her desk to ask additional questions and sign up for her choir… including "the new marauders" as she liked to call Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron's ears turned alarmingly red as he signed his name in untidy script, a shyness he would have to overcome if he expected to stand up before the school and perform… but she was glad to have each and every one of them. Her main fears had been that either no one would sign up… or that only girls would, resulting in a severely over-balanced sound. Her surprise grew when, during the fifth-year Slytherin and Hufflepuff class, Draco deigned to sign up… and made his two cronies sign as well. She was suspicious… but managed to smile at him as well. At least Draco didn't resemble his father in looks too much… she'd have to wait and see if his personality did any further than using his many "connections".
After her classes were finished for the day, she climbed the stairs to the entrance of Dumbledore's office, just barely remembering that the password was "lemon drop" on this particular day. With a slightly trembling heart she knocked on his rather foreboding door.
"Come in, mademoiselle Duquesne." He called from within.
She did as she was told, entering into Dumbledore's office and stopping to admire Fawkes, who's plumage was at its peak of beauty for the time being. "You wished to see me, Headmaster?" she asked when she caught sight of half-moon-shaped spectacles over the top of a large and rather dusty book.
"Yes… how are you settling in, Chantal?" he asked, laying the book aside and tilting his head at her in a rather youthful manner while Fawkes rustled proudly.
"Well enough, monsieur. The students seem eager to learn what I have to teach them. I think I will enjoy teaching here, sir." She replied with a smile.
"And the staff? How they treating you?" he continued.
That seemed an odd question. "The staff? Well… they've been very helpful, sir. And you know Remus is a good friend of mine. Why do you ask?"
He leaned forward, steepling his long-fingered hands together on his desk. "I've been Headmaster for a long time, Chantal… I still remember your seventh year here."
She furrowed her brow in confusion… what was this apparently sudden change of subject? "Yes?"
He smiled enigmatically. "Seems old flames and old hurts never burn out around here, do they?"
"Sir?"
"I think you know what I'm referring to, Chantal… if not… it will come to you." He shrugged as though his vague comment meant nothing whatsoever. "I will s
see you at dinner, yes?"
"Of… of course, Headmaster… merci." She nodded before turning to leave.
She was well aware that Dumbledore understood things normally beyond mortal ken… that he was perhaps the greatest wizard that the world had ever known. But this time he was unabashedly wrong! Whatever flame there had ever been between herself and one Severus Snape had died a long time ago… and good riddance to it. She was better off without that holier-than-thou potions master anyway.
Right. So why did her heart leap into her throat every time they passed in the hallway? Why did she feel so disappointed each of the frequent times that he chose not to eat with the other teachers? Why did she continually have to resist the urge to seek him out?
Arretez! She commanded herself. Maybe the two of them might have had something once long ago… but that was a different time and place. She could never forget what he became…and whom he once served. She had been lucky to be rid of him before… any of that happened. Besides, she had a holiday program to pick out for the students and professors that had expressed interest in her group.