Opening Night
It was Sunday night at Hogwarts. The main banquet was lit to the brim with a soft golden tint. The high windows were brightly flushed in the moonlight. Four long tables stretched across the length of the hall. Seated around them, the students of Hogwarts laughed and ate furiously. Three young people in particular huddled together and quietly discussed the empty seat at teacher's table.
"I heard Professor Squire simply upped and vanished, no one's seen him since," said the redheaded Ron Weasley. "That's silly," chimed in Hermione Granger. "No one just vanishes, even around here that's absolutely absurd." With a twitch of her nose she returned to her creamed potatoes.
"But still, if you're so smart then you tell me where he's off too." Ron was in no mood to deal with even the slightest haughtiness from one Miss Granger.
"Perhaps he's on holiday and will be back later this evening, Harry what do you think?" Herman pointed her butter knife in the direction of the third student.
"I surely don't think he's on any kind of holiday, the semester has just begun." Harry Potter adjusted his glasses and placed his fork on his plate.
"It wouldn't surprise me if he just vanished; stranger things have happen to Dark Arts Professors." Harry had a point that even Hermione couldn't ignore.
While it was one of the most sought after positions in the entire magical world, Defense Against the Dark Arts professors had a habit of only teaching on a quite limited term.
At the front of the room sat the Hogwarts staff. In the center sat Professor Albus Dumbledore, beside him Professor McGonagall, head of Griffyndor House. Next to her looking as foul as ever was Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master.
Snape looked over the crowd of students, his eyes dark and stern. He was by now with a single glance able to pick out the students he disliked and hated even more.
He quickly noticed the three young Griffyndors plotting at the far table. No doubt they're chattering about the empty seat, he thought. Why must they be so damn meddlesome so early on in the year?
But even still Snape himself couldn't refuse the thought. What had happened to Professor Squire? Snape shook his head slightly and silently lifted his wine glass.
At the center of the table, Dumbledore stood, his hands raised. With a simple clearing of his throat he has the entire room's attention.
"Students, please, your attention." Dumbledore nodded and continued on. "As I am sure all of you have noticed there is a spot open at the staff table tonight." The students all nodded. "It is now that I regret to inform you that for personal reasons Professor Squire will not be able to teach for the rest of the term."
Ron Weasley's ears perked a bit, "Crikey, personal reasons? I bet he was eaten by a dragon or sumthin'!" "Hush you," silenced Hermoine.
Dumbledore looked upon his students and cleared is throat again, this time for added emphasis.
"Now understand that we at Hogwarts traveled far to find for you a replacement Professor." At this Snape turned to face Dumbledore. This should be good, he thought.
"It was only Friday when this person agreed to teach here, I suggest that for you own sakes you treat this professor with great respect or I fear you will suffer greatly."
The students sat in dead silence.
"May I please introduce to you, Hogwarts new professor in the Defense Against the Dark Arts, Profess….what's this?"
"Professor What's This?"
"Shut up, Ron."
A messenger owl careened its way into the main hall. It was a large owl, jet black and terribly fast. It dropped a letter into the hands of Dumbledore. He opened it and read it. A smile came to his face and he read the note out loud.
"Dear Albus,
Before I walk through these doors, you damn well better have my mug and a bottle of wine with my name on it."
Not a single student knew what to say or do, they simply looked to Dumbledore for an answer.
"I assure you, my dear, your mug is before me and a bottle is waiting," said Dumbledore. "I promise you children, your new professor more than spirited, you will learn much." Snape leaned across the table, a bottle of wine appeared before the empty seat, there was no name.
"Spirited? I bet he's a drunk he is," quipped Ron.
"He's going to give you detentions before he even walks in here, you know," added Harry.
Again, Dumbledore motioned for silence. "May I introduce to you your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor…Maylin Hunter."
Snape's eyes opened wider than the banquet hall doors. "My god…" was all that escaped his lips.
Maylin walked into the hall, the light was blinding but warm. Her long leather jacket followed her every movement. She took her time walking through the rows of students. She saw them all, every wide eyed stare, every open mouth, every lighting shaped scar. Good to know he's still alive, she thought and nodded Harry's way.
Harry shook his head.
"She just nodded at me," said a stunned Harry Potter. "Perhaps she fancies you," snickered Ron. Harry rolled his eyes, even after so many years at Hogwarts he never truly became accustomed to any of the special attention.
Maylin felt Harry's thoughts and decided that, for the meantime, she would forget she had even noticed he was there.
Once reaching the main table Dumbledore extended his hand. In it he held her coffee mug.
I believe this is yours. Maylin raised an eye.
And the wine?
It's next to your seat.
Thank you kindly, Sir.
No, my Dear, thank you.
Dumbledore lowered his hand to Maylin and finally spoke aloud.
"Please, Professor, any words for the students, or a demonstration perhaps?"
Snape inhaled deeply for her voice.
"Aya, Sir, what would you like?" Snape released his breath, This is going to be hell.
"Make something explode!" cried one of the Weasley twins.
The whole room shook with laughter. Even a few of the Slytherins managed to crack a smile.
"Explode, eh? I think I can arrange that fine."
The room stopped laughing. She can't be serious they all thought.
Maylin reached into her jacket and pulled out a single wand. She extended her free hand over the crowd of faces. Her hand moved in waves and the air around it began to look tangible. Swirls of white twisted, turned and grew into a small ball above her hand. She thrust out her wand and muttered a simply protection invocation over the students. With one hand under the ball she returned the wand to her jacket.
With the wand secured, she brought out her new free hand and pointed at Snape's wine glass. Her hand beckoned the glass, but instead of the glass, only the wine escaped. It floated to her in mass of deep red and all congealed into another ball above her other hand.
Snape's jaw dropped only a bit as Maylin quickly swirled the two substances together into a glowing red orb. Satisfied, she held the ball suspended in the air and reached back for her wand. She pushed the ball away form herself and over to the center of the room. She carefully raised the wand as the orb grew and brightened. It followed her voice, it followed her wand. Higher and higher she guided the orb until she whispered just loudly enough for the room to hear… "Boom…"
The room exploded with light and color. Shards of red and gold flew across the room in all directions illuminating the room. The students cheered and cried with laughter as the room glittered in the moonlight.
Maylin smiled and removed the protection spell from room before finding her seat.
She turned slowly and faced the man next to her. He was as she remembered. Intense. Strikingly dark. Firm. Eyes that could cut a man. Exhilarating and terrifying all in the same moment.
She pulled in close to the table and said nothing. She reached her hand out to the bottle of wine before her. On it read her name. She breathed deep and opened the bottled with a snap.
Snape cocked his head.
"You took my wine, Maylin," said Snape with a painfully dry voice. Maylin exhaled quickly and stared over the students who were still laughing and playing with the explosive remnants.
"Hello, Severus," said Maylin. "Trust I will allow you to share in the bottle in front of us."
With a swish of her wand the bottle filled the two glasses. They both finished they're meals in silence.