Chapter 5: Zarekael

Chapter 5: Zarekael
She could have apparated to Hogsmeade and walked to Hogwarts from there, but Meli needed time away from people for reflection and self-composure. The shock of the Goldens' murders had started to wear off, and she needed a thicker veneer than usual to cover over the anger and grief that tore at her even as she battled them.

So instead of apparating, she retrieved her broomstick, DiscMan, CD carrier, and overnight bag and set out for Hogwarts by a more time-consuming means. Her broomstick was a Nimbus-series—faster than she could have wished for under the circumstances, but still a vast improvement over the alternative.

She shrank her bag to a more manageable size and stowed it in her pocket. The rest of the ballast she stuck to her broom handle with duct tape, and then she took off under cover of darkness.

It was a several hours-long trip, with only Linkin Park, Nickelback, P.O.D., and her own thoughts for company, but by the time she came close enough to Hogwarts that her DiscMan would no longer function, Meli felt somewhat fit and ready for human company again. She landed between Hagrid's cottage and the castle's front gates, shrank and stowed her broomstick and its attachments, straightened her robe, and walked toward the school.

Dumbledore, not surprisingly, was waiting for her just inside. He smiled as he greeted her, a well-remembered twinkle in his eyes. "Welcome back, Miss Ebony," he said. "I hope your time away has been enjoyable?"

"Well, ten years is a large chunk to give an accounting for," she replied. "But I think I may honestly say it's been time well spent."

"Please accept my condolences for your recent loss." Some of the twinkle faded, and the headmaster's smile turned more solemn.

"Thank you, sir." She felt that she should say more, but no words came.

Dumbledore led her silently through the corridors to the statue guarding the entrance to his office. "Divinity," he said, and Meli wrinkled her nose. She hated sweets, tolerating only chocolate when it was for medicinal purposes.

They entered the headmaster's office a few minutes afterward, and Meli looked around with some interest. She had only ever been there three times before, and never in any condition to take in her surroundings. The stench of sugar was everywhere, but otherwise the room seemed comfortable enough.

At Dumbledore's bidding, she sat. The headmaster took his seat behind the desk and smiled again. "Did Severus explain to you the particulars of the situation?"

"Some of them, yes," she answered. "I understand that there's a vacancy in need of a teacher, that I'm considered qualified, and that there have been some difficulties with the position before."

"Do you know what sort of difficulties there have been?" The question was asked almost casually, but Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle.

Meli smiled mirthlessly. "I've only heard sensational rumors, sir," she replied. "One Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is reputed to have been harboring the disembodied Voldemort, another was supposedly a Death Eater impostor." She arched an eyebrow. "I've even heard that one was discovered to be a werewolf. All I know for certain is that Hogwarts has had four Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers in as many years."

Dumbledore nodded wearily. "Everything you've heard is true," he conceded. His eye caught Meli's. "Voldemort has returned, Miss Ebony; I think it safe to say that no one knows it better than you do. Few can be as adept as you at escaping his attention, and even fewer are as capable as you are at opposing him. I need a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who can teach well, who knows the enemy, and who knows what she's about."

Meli weighed her words carefully before replying. "You know my situation, sir. While you need have no fear of my ever joining Voldemort, I have a condition which may impair my ability to teach." She bit her lip. "It may even cause some sensation among the students which would prove… counterproductive… should the nature of my ailment come to light." She hesitated, then added, "Are you sure that my taking this position would be in the best interests of the students?"

"You raise valid concerns," Dumbledore assured her. "However, they are easily handled with a bit of creativity and ingenuity."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Which I take to mean that you and Professor Snape have been plotting."

Dumbledore smiled broadly. "That's one way of putting it. Your impaired ability to teach is, as I have said, a valid concern. However, as we both know, Professor Snape is able and willing to teach in your stead. His apprentice Zarekael already teaches the upper levels in Potions, and he has agreed to take Professor Snape's lower level classes when you are unable to teach.

"As for a sensation among the students…" Dumbledore shrugged. "There we are greatly indebted to the Muggles, who have diagnosed you with an odd form of epilepsy. Students may be confused or temporarily frightened if you have a public seizure—"

"But as we both know, that will rarely happen," Meli finished for him. "And when it does, the Muggles have provided a ready explanation." She thought for a moment then raised inquisitive eyebrows. "And how much else is known about me outside of this room?"

"Aside from Severus, no one knows anything other than your official history."

Problem, Meli thought. I have two official histories, one of which I would prefer not to be known. "Any student with Death Eater connections would know me or could unknowingly inform on me to their parents."

"But Death Eaters would hesitate to inform official parties about you," Dumbledore said. "They would have to disclose the means by which they learned about you. And your safety from Voldemort has never been an issue."

"No," she agreed. "I'm worth far more to him alive than dead. My concern in that area is more for anyone who might try to befriend me."

Dumbledore smiled sardonically. "There I believe you'll have very few problems. Your association with Severus Snape and your oft-proven ability to seclude yourself should go a long way toward creating distance between you and others."

"Good," Meli replied firmly. "I've just had it powerfully confirmed that I cannot risk such associations. Voldemort is back; the game is resumed."

ooo

Her interview completed, Meli made her way down to Snape's office. She had no idea whether or not he would be there, but it was worth a try; she had nothing else constructive to do with her time.

As she rounded the last corner leading into the dungeons proper, she stopped in her tracks, staring. A tall black figure seemed to have materialized out of nowhere in front of her. The apparition had longish, wavy black hair, a dark Mephistophelean beard, pointed ears, and inhumanly ice blue eyes. Except for his eyes, his ears, and his unusual height (she judged him for seven feet tall at least), as well as something subtly other about him, he might have been human. He wore somber black robes of a distinguished cut and an expression similar to what Meli might have attributed to mild amusement if Snape had worn it.

"Welcome to the dungeons," he said dryly, the words brushed by an accent she couldn't immediately identify. "You seem to have lost yourself."

Meli smiled coolly. "No, I'm actually looking for Professor Snape, and I thought he might be down here." She paused, smirking slightly. "Though I do thank you for your welcome."

He was most definitely amused now, but like Snape, he didn't seem the type to smile often. "If you seek Professor Snape, you're going in the right direction. I am Zarekael, his apprentice." He bowed slightly.

Meli nodded acknowledgment, feeling unusually formal in Zarekael's presence. "I'm pleased to meet you," she said. "My name is Meli Ebony. I'm interviewing today."

Zarekael showed no visible reaction, but she had the impression that he stiffened, and he no longer seemed amused. He eyed her more keenly now, and she wondered warily what it meant. He let silence reign for a beat, then said, "Professor Snape is in his office."

As she stepped past him, an odd sensation crept up and down Meli's spine. She frowned. Only around Snape had she ever had a similar feeling, and, except for a remarkable similarity in demeanor, she could find no explanatory parallel between Zarekael and Snape.

Or Tinúviel, she reminded herself. Tinúviel Everett and Severus Snape… and now Zarekael. She shook her head slightly and filed the odd fact away for future reference.

ooo

The Potions master was indeed in his office beyond the classroom. Before she could knock, he looked up from his desk and stood immediately to greet her.

"Come in, Miss Ebony," he said. "I thought I heard a lighter tread than Zarekael's."

Meli smiled wryly. "Yes. I met Zarekael out in the corridor." She raised her eyebrows. "He seems to recognize my name."

One corner of Snape's mouth turned upward slightly. "Your reputation has preceded you," he replied, though with an odd note to his voice. "The Weasley twins have their aspirations, but they'll never surpass the Skulkers."

"Weasley, eh?" She shook her head. "No group of pranksters without at least one Slytherin or Ravenclaw ever could. If these twins fit their family mold, they're solid Gryffindors."

Snape nodded. "Through and through." He motioned for her to take a seat, then, after she had done so, resumed his own chair. "Have you interviewed yet?"

"Just finished."

"And?"

She smiled ruefully. "And the idea is beginning to grow on me. I would like nothing better than to take the fight to Voldemort personally, but since that's not possible at this time, the next best thing seems to be equipping those who will fight him."

"I doubt the Dark Lord would much appreciate hearing you say so," Snape observed dryly.

Meli shrugged, but smiled dangerously. "In that case, it'll be a double pleasure. It will be a bit odd to be your colleague, though, sir—even now I still think of you as my teacher."

"You're very adaptable, Miss Ebony. I'm sure you'll make the adjustment, possibly even before I do." Now Snape developed a subtle smile—not one that most of his students would think of as a smile, but a clearly pleasant and amused expression nonetheless. "But in any case, it's probably time you made the transition to first-name basis."

It was a very odd transition to even think of him by a name other than Professor Snape. She could only imagine the look on her face as she said, "Well, sir, if you would call me Meli, I suppose it would be a fair trade to call you Severus."

He nodded, the motion more like a bow from the neck than an actual nod. "Very well, Meli."

She raised her eyebrows, took a deep breath, and said in return, "Very well, Severus."

The sound of footsteps in the classroom drew her attention to the doorway, and she saw Zarekael making his way across to Snape's office. He paused at the door.

"Come in, Zarekael," Snape said. "I understand you've already met Meli."

Zarekael's amusement returned. "Briefly, yes."

Snape caught Meli's eye. "Zarekael arrived a year after you graduated. He was placed in my charge while he received his education, and since then I've been training him as my apprentice."

Meli smiled. "You must have a great skill with potions," she said to Zarekael. "Prof—er, Severus—doesn't take on just anyone, I'd wager."

"He took me on," Zarekael replied with a shrug. "More than that I couldn't say."

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Meli, the first to be bothered by it, cleared her throat and said, "Well, it'll be nice to be living among magical folk again."

A flicker of curiosity flitted through Zarekael's eyes. "You've lived among Muggles?"

Meli shrugged. "A bit," she conceded. "A few years. Have you never been among Muggles?"

"Never," Zarekael replied. "I've taken Muggle Studies… but I've never met an actual Muggle."

Meli smiled faintly. "They're a fascinating lot. Best taken in small doses unless necessity dictates otherwise—much like Hufflepuffs."

"What do you like most about Muggles?" Zarekael asked.

"Their music," she answered promptly. "I don't know which I'll miss more while I'm here: System of a Down or Enya."

Zarekael gave her a blank look, but Snape just shook his head.

ooo

Having had a pleasant chat with the Head of Slytherin House, Meli thought that it might be politic (as well as potentially informative) to have tea with the other three Heads of House while she was in the neighborhood and before the board of governors arrived. As much as she despised schmoozing, she had to admit that it was a great way to win over potential allies. She was only slightly acquainted with Flitwick, but as a student she'd had several run-ins with both McGonagall and Sprout. McGonagall, though she was Meli's Head of House, had been often mystified and flummoxed by her, and she had administered a large percentage of Meli's many detentions.

Hogwarts' newest teacher (as everyone but the governors already considered her) believed that it might be best to have one tea with all three at once and have it over with; things could get a bit hairy with McGonagall and/or Sprout, but Flitwick, she suspected would make a splendid buffer should the need arise.

To her partial disappointment but greater relief, she was unable to invite Professor Sprout because she was unable to find her. She actually had a sneaking suspicion that Sprout was making an especial effort to stay out of the former Skulker's way. Given her open disdain for both Hufflepuff and Herbology, Meli wasn't surprised… but she was relieved.

So it was that Meli found herself pouring out tea for two people she barely knew on an otherwise uneventful Saturday afternoon. McGonagall sat primly in a wing-backed chair, while Flitwick perched atop a stack of reference books his hostess had thoughtfully piled on an identical chair, with a pillow topmost. In an effort to be more than usually hospitable, Meli had even arranged for a sugar bowl and biscuits, though the smell of them sent a typhoon through her stomach.

"So, Miss Ebony," Flitwick began, after a sip of tea so loaded with sugar that Meli wondered if it was even liquid anymore. "Are you looking forward to teaching here?"

Meli nodded. "I admit, it'll be a bit odd at first," she replied. "But I greatly look forward to helping make a difference. The subjects I taught at the Muggle school in Surrey seem rather less critical in the grander scheme, particularly now." She took a sip of thoroughly unsweetened tea. "I notice I'm not the only new teacher to come on lately."

"There have been a few changes since you graduated," McGonagall confirmed. "Hagrid now teaches Care of Magical Creatures."

"A position after his own heart, I don't doubt," Meli remarked with a smile.

McGonagall also smiled. "Oh, yes. He loves it, and most of the students enjoy learning from him."

Translation: He hasn't been received well by a number of malcontented Slytherins and possibly a handful of Ravenclaw sticklers. Aloud, she said, "I'm glad to hear it."

"And, of course, there's Zarekael," Flitwick added. "I don't believe you and he were students together here?"

"No," Meli replied. "According to Professor Snape, Zarekael came a year after I graduated. Beyond that, I know very little about him."

Flitwick set his cup in the saucer he held neatly under his chin. "You haven't heard the story of Zarekael's arrival?" he squeaked. Meli couldn't tell if his high pitch was due to surprise, excitement, or some combination of both.

"Er, no," she answered politely. "Is it a very unusual story?"

"Rather," McGonagall said dryly, rescuing Flitwick's cup and saucer as he toppled from his seat.

While McGonagall saw to the china, Meli saw to her guest, retrieving him from the floor and placing him carefully back on his pillow.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Ebony," Flitwick beamed, dusting off his robes and reclaiming his tea. "I do become a little fluttery when there's an exciting story to tell."

She smiled. "That's perfectly understandable. I must admit, you've piqued my curiosity."

"I assure you, Miss Ebony," McGonagall said, "it's the most exciting event involving Zarekael that you're likely to hear about."

"Oh, but don't forget Aliana Rosewood," Flitwick chided. "His time here hadn't been entirely uneventful."

"Be that as it may," McGonagall sighed, "the tale of his arrival is the most remarkable thing about him."

Meli cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows. "So how did he arrive?"

McGonagall composed herself first. "Actually, it was his father's arrival," she specified briskly. "Zarekael came afterward, in a much less dramatic fashion."

"How did his father arrive, then?" Meli sighed.

"On a dragon!" Flitwick squealed, and McGonagall held out a cautionary hand to catch his cup and saucer again. The Charms teacher reoriented himself just in time to prevent another topple.

"On some sort of large creature," McGonagall corrected. "It was very dark; only Albus and Severus came close enough to see what it was, and neither of them has seen the need to speak of it."

"So he came at night."

McGonagall nodded. "In the dead of night, and something about his coming set off the Dark magic alarms, so he had quite the reception, as you can imagine."

"Armed teachers on the ramparts and Dumbledore at the gates?"

"And Hagrid behind him with a crossbow," McGonagall added dryly. "Albus and Severus had a long talk with him, though, and determined that he wasn't a threat."

Flitwick was getting worked-up again; he was actually bouncing up and down on his pillow, the teacup remaining miraculously still in spite of ample provocation to do otherwise. "And the most exciting part of it is why he came."

"I see…" She didn't, but that really wasn't unexpected, given the strange course this conversation had already taken.

"Zarekael came from a different world through a portal," McGonagall explained patiently. "Apparently all of his people are magical; there are no Muggles. There's a civil war raging there that endangered him, so his father arranged for him to be brought here, educated, and protected."

Interesting. "How old was he?" Meli inquired. "Why was he in danger?"

"He was eleven," Flitwick answered. "Just the right age. And he was in danger because he's the firstborn son in one of the ruling houses."

"Ah." And in a civil war, rulers and their families become prime targets.

McGonagall finished her tea and set down her cup and saucer. "Zarekael's father arranged for him to be placed in Severus' care. Then he brought Zarekael to Hogwarts and tried to return to his realm."

"Tried?" Meli echoed.

The other woman nodded soberly. "The gateway collapsed while he was in it. He's presumed dead. In any case, the gateway can't be rebuilt, so Zarekael is stranded here."

Meli raised her eyebrows in sympathy. "The poor boy," she said softly. "Did he and Professor Snape get on fairly well?"

"They must have done," McGonagall answered. "Severus formally adopted him."

Meli's eyebrows hovered just below her widow's peak. Snape wasn't exactly a family man; for him to have agreed to serve as Zarekael's temporary guardian was unusual and unexpected. To consider a formal adoption, much less go through with one, he must have hit it off very well with his foster son.

Actually, whether he adopted Zarekael or not, Snape—Severus, that is—must get on quite well with him to be willing to take him on as an apprentice.

She allowed the subject to drop, instead offering to refill her guests' cups. Both accepted, and the three of them sipped in silence for a moment before McGonagall introduced a new topic.

"I understand you've lived among Muggles ever since leaving Hogwarts," she said. "How have you liked it?"

Meli smiled as Flitwick perked up at the question. "Once I made the cultural adjustment," she replied, "I found it agreeable enough. It helped that I wasn't completely immersed right away; my roommate at university turned out to be a witch, as well."

"Indeed!" Flitwick exclaimed, leaning forward with interest.

"Indeed," Meli confirmed, deadpan. "She was American, and I'd taken Muggle Studies, so she helped me to adjust to America, and I helped her to adjust to Muggles." She smiled, remembering. "We had some wonderful adventures playing Muggle."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "I'm almost afraid to inquire."

"Well, there was one escapade that I would venture to call more amusing than alarming."

"Then by all means, share it with us," Flitwick said, beaming in anticipation.

Meli set down her teacup. "It all started when Andrea and I researched Muggle sports to find a substitute for quidditch to tide us over until we could rejoin the magical community. Andrea found a splendid sport called hockey, and after carefully following it for some time, we settled on a favorite team and resolved to see them play on home ice before we graduated." She cleared her throat and offered Flitwick and McGonagall a sheepish look. "Unfortunately, our team of choice was the Pittsburgh Penguins, and we attended university in Denver, Colorado. The achievement of our goal required us to travel… oh, two-thirds to three-quarters of the way across the country." She shrugged. "We hadn't the money to fly, and it would defeat the purpose to apparate or go on broomstick, so we loaded up my car and took a week-long road trip."

"And how long were you in Pittsburgh?" McGonagall inquired wryly.

Meli smiled ruefully. "About seven hours," she answered. "We had dinner, saw the game, then turned around and drove home." She brightened. "But the Penguins won, and something happened on the way home to make it even more memorable.

"We made it most of the way back. We'd stopped in Ogallala, Nebraska, for lunch and to change drivers, and then as we were pulling out of the parking lot, Andrea noticed that the coolant light was on.

"Fortunately, there was a petrol station across the road, so we pulled in there. I bought a jug of coolant, which turned out to be the wrong kind. My car required a specific brand, which, naturally, that station didn't sell. Andrea, however, did a marvelous job of playing the poor stranded female, and consequently obtained directions to a nearby truck stop.

"The truck stop didn't sell the proper coolant, either, but the mechanic examined the tank, to see if he could determine the problem. He looked at it and said that the cap had been on too loose; he pointed out evidence of boil-off, which Andrea and I found perfectly…hm." Meli searched for the right word. "Charming."

Something about her word choice struck Flitwick's funny bone. McGonagall again rescued his cup and saucer as he laughed so hard that he fell from his perch. Meli traded amused looks with her former Head of House then stood to retrieve the furiously giggling Flitwick. Once he calmed down enough that he could maintain his seat again, Meli returned him to his place, and McGonagall handed back his tea.

"Oh, do go on," he chortled. "I'm quite enjoying the tale."

Meli looked to McGonagall, received an affirmative nod, and did as bidden. "The mechanic informed us that we could buy the proper coolant at the local Chevrolet dealership, and then he proceeded to give us the most convoluted possible directions to the place. Fortunately, Andrea was driving, and she'd managed to make some sense of what he'd said. We found the dealership with relatively little trouble, arriving right in the middle of the lunch hour—meaning that almost no one was there.

"One of the managers was still at work, so we were able to buy the coolant with no problem. Unfortunately, he thought Andrea and I actually were helplessly stranded females and asked if we needed help filling the coolant tank. Andrea's patience was worn down to nothing, so she stood with her hands on her hips and gave a snarky little speech to make Professor Snape proud." Meli smirked. "The manager in question was silenced, so we went back out to the car.

"Once we'd filled the tank, though, the light was still on. After some frustrating speculation, I remembered hearing a Muggle classmate say that there's a switch connected to each system in the car that can only be turned off by a mechanic.

"So we waited for a mechanic. Once we explained our plight to him, he was only too happy to help. He came outside with a tool nearly the size of a beater's club, popped the bonnet, and whacked the bottom of the coolant tank a couple of times. Then he closed the bonnet again, checked the coolant light, and sent us on our way."

She sighed dramatically. "And that is how we came to know far more about Muggle machinery than we ever wanted to. Give me a broomstick over that nightmare any day!"

Even the reserved McGonagall smiled at that conclusion. Once again, a subject was allowed to drop, and this time Meli saw fit to bring up a new topic.

"So," she said after a sip of tea, "has Hogwarts seen any major adventures since the departure of the Skulkers?"

The Heads of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw exchanged knowing looks. "The Skulkers' record has never been surpassed, if that's your concern," Flitwick assured her. "Though the Weasley twins do provide some entertainment now and then."

"Do they."

"Yes," McGonagall replied. "Although it's generally agreed that their failures are far more amusing than their successes."

Meli raised her eyebrows. "They've had more than one failed prank?" Silly gooses, you'd think they'd have learnt the first time!

Flitwick had neatly deposited his cup and saucer on the table as soon as the Weasleys had come up—a wise precaution; he chuckled quietly, but the force of his laughter once more endangered his precarious perch. "Oh, yes," he told her. "Their first was perhaps their most memorable, but it's been followed by others."

"Oh, dear," Meli sighed. "Now you've intrigued me. The story of a memorable failed prank ought to be shared—as a warning and a public service to all enterprising pranksters past and present."

"Oh, it was quite the spectacular failure." Flitwick lapsed into a full-out laughing fit, leaving McGonagall to narrate, which she obligingly did.

"No one is quite sure who their intended target was," she began, coming close to grinning. "They set a trap where the Potions and Slytherin corridors cross, so they may have been trying to trap a Slytherin, or they might possibly have been after Severus."

Meli's eyes were widened in horror. "And they were how old?"

"They were first years."

"No one can accuse them of lacking ambition," Meli said numbly.

"Certainly not," McGonagall agreed. "They set up a number of movement-activated dung bomb launchers, all aimed at approximately the same spot. It's possible that they planned to set up a stasis charm there, as well, but no one knows if they tried or succeeded; they were caught. Whoever caught them did set up a stasis charm, put them in the trap, and left them to be found just before breakfast the following morning."

Meli shook her head wonderingly. "By whom?"

"Severus and most of the Slytherins found them at about the same time," Flitwick hooted, his feet kicking because he was laughing so hard. "They were in detention for a week afterward!"

"Good night," Meli sighed, laughing a little herself. "Who caught them in the act?"

McGonagall shrugged. "No one outside of Slytherin knows for certain. You might try asking Zarekael. He was a Slytherin at the time, and he was probably there when they were found. If you cite…"—she pursed her lips thoughtfully—"professional interest, he may part with a name. Provided he knows it, of course."

Zarekael again… Well, why pass up a chance to probe? "What was Zarekael like as a student?" she asked aloud. "Is he the sort who would know anything about it?"

Flitwick had slowly brought his mirth under control, and now he looked very shrewdly at her. "I believe people would be very surprised at what Zarekael knows," he said seriously. "He's the quiet sort and always has been—not surprising, given that he's a war orphan—but I think he sees and hears a great deal that he never says anything about."

"Was he quiet because he's reserved, or because he's aloof?"

"Reserved," McGonagall answered promptly. "Zarekael has never been anything but kind and polite. In all honesty, I don't believe he was given a fair chance. Most of the students tend to distrust Slytherins anyway, and he had against him the additional strikes of being Severus' son and being quiet and brooding. Very few people expected anything good of him, even though he did nothing to deserve their distrust."

"He only acted out once," Flitwick added. "And that was still honorable on his part."

Meli raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"When Zarekael was a sixth year," he replied, "Professor Lockhart—the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year—arranged a Valentine's Day dance."

"Only one more in a series of ridiculously stupid things he did during his far too-long time here," McGonagall growled through gritted teeth. "I still fear for the future of our civilization with such idiocy running amuck, particularly in the educational system." She looked shrewdly to Meli. "Knowing what I know of you, Miss Ebony, I can say with utter confidence that, even if you made the effort to do so, you could not come close to being as useless and imbecilic as he was."

Meli blinked in surprise, both at the older witch's bitterness against Lockhart and at the compliment. She had always secretly suspected that McGonagall had looked at her and her friends as a sure omen of the downfall of Western wizarding civilization amid a storm of banana-cream pies and seltzer water.

"I'm glad to have earned your confidence," she stammered politely.

McGonagall smiled sincerely then glanced at Flitwick. "I do apologize for interrupting," she said briskly. "Please, go on—you had just got to the Valentine's Day dance, I believe."

Flitwick offered her an understanding smirk; apparently Lockhart was still a fairly common topic of irritated conversation. "A fifth year Ravenclaw, Miss Aliana Rosewood, had gone with Zarekael to a Valentine's Day dance two years earlier," he continued, "which had exposed her to some ridicule within Ravenclaw House." Flitwick's usually merry face puckered in disgust, possibly in condemnation of his own students' behavior. "This later dance reintroduced the subject. As I understand it, Miss Rosewood was heckled to the point of tears by a fellow Ravenclaw, and Zarekael happened to be passing that way." The Charms teacher smiled in cold satisfaction. "He silenced the culprit with a well-aimed fist."

Meli narrowed her eyes. "Were points taken from or given to Slytherin?"

"Taken," McGonagall replied regretfully. "Although no one was very enthusiastic about it, he had to be punished for hitting another student."

"Zarekael also served detention with me," Flitwick added. "I believe I was rather kinder to him than Severus was to the other gentleman involved in the incident."

"Oh, my," Meli said, shaking her head. A stray thought suddenly clicked. "Wait a minute—Zarekael took a girl to a dance?" She frowned. "He doesn't seem the type."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "No, he's not, actually," she replied. "He and Miss Rosewood were friends, nothing more."

"And he appears to be a very good sort of friend, defending her that way."

Flitwick nodded. "Who says only Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs can be loyal? There's honor in all of the Houses, I believe."