"Bloody evil …" Harry commented, shaking his head as strands of his hair plastered themselves to his forehead. The sixth years were holed up in the library, pouring over books after a long day of lessons. N.E.W.T. was, if possible, more difficult and hectic in the first day than O.W.L. year had been altogether. Piles of homework awaited them after their first day. Many other students in their year were bent over books, yawning as the sun set behind mullioned windows in the library. A magnified voice announced the closing of the library in fifteen minutes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed up to Madam Pince to check out their books, and then they headed back for the Gryffindor Common Room. "Brilliant though … did you see the way Professor Wellington handled Malfoy? I don't mind having her as Head of House while McGonagall's away …" Harry muttered sleepily as he threw his books onto a table. Crookshanks, who had been dozing on the table, leapt off of the table, looking rather offended. "I don't suppose she could have been a bit nice on the first day back on term though … doesn't seem like she's much different from McGonagall, giving us this load of homework …."
"I know mate … I know …" Ron muttered sleepily, raking his hands through his hair as he searched for bits of information to aid him in the two foot essay on belladonna that Snape had assigned them for homework. "That was great though, wasn't it? I think I remember dad saying something about her … working at the Ministry as an Unspeakable or something like that. She was a brilliant chaser for England though …."
Wham. Ink bottles rattled dangerously, and a few pieces of parchment slid from the desk, floating in an almost serene way as they fell to the floor. "What in the name of Merlin do you think that you're doing, Wellington?" an angry voice said. It was Severus Snape, and he had been the one to slam his fists on her desk. Up until that point, Charna had not acknowledged that anyone had entered her office. She had been writing something on a piece of parchment, calmly as if nothing disturbed her in the slightest. Snape's eyes glittered with a silent threat as they met the depths of Charna's icy blue ones, though they in contrast to his appeared rather calm and collected. Then, to add salt to what apparently was a gaping wound for Severus, Charna rewarded him with an almost sickeningly sweet smile, her pearly white teeth gleaming oddly in the firelight, while the patterns of light emitted by candles on the desk gave emphasis to the odd smile. A dark scowl curled on Snape's face, and a line appeared in his forehead, as if he was containing rage.
"Oh … good evening, Severus. I didn't hear you come in, but you know you could have resorted to other methods of catching my attention. 'Good evening' would have done well, actually, instead of flying off of a hinge and sending my papers to the floor. What if it were something important? Though, I take it you have something to say to me, because I, apparently, don't know what in the name of Merlin I happen to be doing," said Charna calmly, while she folded her hands on top of the desk, giving a slight glance to the papers on the floor before returning her attention to Snape. She smiled in a serene sort of way, before taking on a more expressionless, business like manner, arching an inquisitive eyebrow as she did so. "Well, would you like to have a seat? Or perhaps a cup of tea … maybe you don't like tea, so you would prefer coffee instead?" Charna gestured to a seat across from her high-backed, throne like one. Snape glared at her.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," said Snape as he slid into a chair, his sallow hands digging into the crushed velvet almost immediately. His anger was obvious; Charna had an art of provoking people with blatant sarcasm. He paused for a moment to glare at Charna, who seemed the least bit intimidated by his constant scowls and murderous glares. Of course, she was a different breed of woman - those glares usually sent students stumbling away in fear, and they intimidated his colleagues at times when he was feeling particularly venomous toward the world. Snape had once admired that about Charna - how she was never usually intimidated by anything, not weak enough to shiver in fright at a glare, though at the moment it just fueled his annoyance. "Draco Malfoy, and what you said to him in your class this morning. That's unlawful, you know. I could go to the Headmaster with it, about how his new brilliant Transfiguration teacher is insulting students, and their fathers." He seemed satisfied with himself, as if this threat would subside Charna's sarcasm.
Charna's eyes narrowed dangerously. "First of all, Severus, it's well within my right as a teacher at this school to say whatever I like to a student that thinks he is mature enough to argue with me. Furthermore, the boy just proves his immaturity when he brings his father into things, so I merely set him straight about his father's current social position. I do not see any harm in that, and if you so much as dare to question my authority or threaten me again, you'll be sorely reminded of the fact that I, not you, am acting as Deputy Headmistress." Her tones were threatening, each word laced with an icy venom that had a promise behind them. "Though, from what I'm told Severus, you are not that popular among the students, because you make a regular habit of singling them out because of their faults. So, before you attempt your empty lecture on me, apply your twisted principles to your own classroom, and stop trying to supervise mine. It's like the pot calling the kettle black, you know …" Charna mused, acquiring an almost thoughtful look as she trailed into silence. This was the way she enjoyed provoking people, enjoyed arguments … which did not consist of raised voices. She would rather the metaphorical blood be shed on words alone.
A malovent grin replaced the formerly threatening scowl on Snape's face. His beetle black eyes had a triumphant look to them, as if he had suddenly acquired a rather tempting thought. As calmly as he could through his growing anger, he spoke to Charna, his malovent grin still in place, as if it were cemented there for the ages. "Yes, the pot calling the kettle black, Wellington …. I see that your father was rather productive himself. How long was the man in Azkaban, exactly? Terribly sorry, though - I heard that he died there, a few years ago. Cold, lonely, forsaken by his friends and family … what an awful way to live his life." His tone was one of mock pity, though he stood abruptly as Charna knocked over her chair with a clatter, standing in a matter of seconds. He kept one hand positioned over his pocket, just in case he would need his wand. The woman had her temper, and it seemed that he had struck a barb of sorts with the comment about her father, as he knew it would. Severus had his own methods of provocation, which were nevertheless effective. He watched as Charna crossed the distance between them in another matter of moments, until they were just one or two feet apart.
So many emotions raced through Charna's body. Rage and anger were the foremost, though the stinging sorrow of the past swirled around in the mix of it all. She was close to her father, very close, and when he had been placed in Azkaban for being a Death Eater, it was devastating to her, as a child in school. It meant the absence of stories, lessons told to her by the firelight, as she sat at her father's feet, engulfed in the smell of his cigar smoke. She would never hear his deep rich voice again, laced with years of knowledge, so much experience and intelligence - the last time she heard it was when she was allowed a death bed visit of him. Then, he was robbed of his fervor, his voice was cracked and the energy drained from him. That was nearly two years ago, when he finally passed away without a hope in the world, just the day before several Death Eaters were broken out of Azkaban. It was a very sensitive subject indeed, with her father. The last memory she had of him was just as he died, his last words, and the look of peace settled upon a broken man as his head found repose in a thin pillow for the last time. "You have no right to speak of my father, you foul, weak excuse of a human being!" Charna spat bitterly, the heat from her anger radiating from her at last, after years of locking away her emotions on the subject. "My father was a noble man - he never needed his gold to manipulate people. How dare you speak ill of him!" she was practically shouting. Then, she did something completely unexpected.
Faster than lightning, Charna balled her right hand into a fist and swung as hard as she could, the tips of her knuckles and a few rings on her fingers colliding with the side of Severus's face. She had a surprisingly strong force behind her punch, when provoked enough. Snape stumbled back several steps, his head colliding with the edge of a book shelf in the back of Charna's modest sized office. His sallow face was bleeding, already beginning to swell, as did the look of pure shock in his eyes. Chest heaving, Charna prepared herself for another swing, though before she could, Severus Snape made a very wise move, and vacated the room before she could swing again. The sound of the door to her office slamming rung in Charna's ears for a few minutes, before she could regain her thoughts.