Narcissa walked down the Great Hall, alone. The students would start filtering in through the great heavy doors in just a few hours.
She had arrived earlier that day and was greeted by a very excited Horace Slughorn. Whether he was happy to see her again or to be finally retiring once and for all, she could not tell, but it frankly did not matter.
He had shown her to her classroom, office, and private quarters in the castle dungeons. Bleary, to be sure, but Narcissa could hardly contain her giddiness – Potions had always been her favorite subject; the dungeons just served to enhance the nostalgia. The good kind of nostalgia.
Horace had not waited long to leave. She supposed he was a little too eager to jump into retirement again. She soon after went to work setting up: her classroom could definitely use a little more light. With calculated flicks of her wand, her books found their new places in her shelves; her cabinets at once filled with ingredients; and her cauldrons flew right into their respective racks. With her more delicate measuring instruments, she was more careful, delicately levitating each one individually and placing them neatly on the counter.
Her scales and other finely-tuned and exquisitely calibrated instruments were her pride and joy; Draco had bought them for her once she announced her decision to return to her Mastery studies. They were of polished silver, and she never, ever altered them magically; not even to shrink them. They had been sent in separately via a special messenger (Draco) directly to the castle. He grumbled about having to transport them, but Narcissa would never simply apparate with such delicate instruments. She found that using magic on them could alter their accuracy, even if only slightly. She remembered how Slughorn had guaranteed her such a thing was all but impossible, but she nevertheless found an ally in her theory: Severus Snape. He had been the only one who shared her love and fascinations for the subject of potion-making. While Narcissa had been excellent, Severus had simply been extraordinary. She hoped she would do his skills and standards justice in her teaching.
"And to get that lighter hue, I just stirred it counter-clockwise for two extra turns before adding the wormwood powder."
Narcissa huffed in frustration.
"That's not what the books say! That's not how Slughorn did it!" she cried.
"Stop thinking about what the book says, Narcissa. And you remember, Slughorn's was slightly darker than mine anyway." Severus retorted calmy.
The blonde threw her arms up in exasperation.
"I give up! I'll never get my NEWTS like this." She lamented.
Her friend merely rolled his eyes, brushing his long hair off his face.
"Stop being so dramatic, I swear to Salazar, you're just like Bella. Listen, you're the best Potions student in our year, or in Hogwarts, for that matter."
Narcissa shot him an angry look.
"Besides you, you mean." She said bitterly, earning another eyeroll from Severus.
"Don't compare us. I have talent, sure. I experiment, sometimes recklessly. You have talent, but you also have something else: you research, you consider all variables. I'm just too bloody lazy for that." He countered.
"Yeah, bloody right. If you're so lazy, how did you come up with the two extra turns?"
"Two extra counter-clockwise turns."
"Argh!"
Narcissa could not contain a smile at the memory. Her study sessions with Severus, often drawing late into the night, were some of the highlights of her time in the castle. Only he understood how fascinating she found potions to be.
Now, standing in the Great Hall, she felt all of the good memories from her years as a student return to the forefront of her min. Despite the darkness growing beyond the castle walls, her time at Hogwarts had been a happy one.
"Reminiscing, I take it?" said a voice from behind. Narcissa turned to see Minerva McGonagall walking up towards her with a knowing smile. The blonde nodded.
"Sometimes it amazes it how it is still the same. The same today as it was in your time as a student, as in mine and as in so many more." The Headmistress commented.
"Yes," Narcissa agreed. "I find it quite… comforting."
Minerva looked intently at her former student, her soft smile never wavering. She took a few moments to speak again.
"I am very happy to have you back, Narcissa." She said truthfully, smiling at her newest hire's confusion.
Narcissa was momentarily taken aback at the statement; but she could clearly see the honesty in the older woman's eyes.
"Thank you, Minerva. It feels good to be back." She said, meaning every word.
"Minerva, the train has just arrived at the… Oh, Professor Black." Said a voice approaching from the other end of the Hall. Narcissa froze in place, and Minerva turned to greet the newcomer.
"Right. Thank you, Miss Granger. I shall call the others, we must get into position." Minerva said, immediately walking away, leaving the other two professors alone. The two women merely looked at each other for a few seconds.
"Professor Black…"
"Professor Granger…" they both began at the same time.
Narcissa looked at the young woman, noting how much she had changed in the past few years. Her hair was shorter than she remembered, falling a little below her shoulders, cascading in curls that seemed to be a lot more manageable than they had been earlier in life. Hermione had certainly developed into a strong, grown woman – she was a far cry from the teenager Narcissa remembered. Narcissa also realized the young professor looked much healthier than she had been during their unfortunate encounters during the war. Though the observation was obvious, Narcissa was glad to see the gaunt, terrified expression of a war survivor replaced by a healthy, confident glow.
Hermione also conducted a similar examination of her newest peer. In many ways, the blonde had not changed at all – she still possessed a commanding, confident posture and demeanor; her robes still looked quite expensive and impeccably stylish. Her skin was still quite pale, though a healthy glow made it look fair as opposed to the sickly complexion Hermione had come to associate with the Malfoy matriarch. Narcissa's hair was also longer than she remembered; the silky strands ran, mostly straight, though with some waves to them, all the way down to the small of Narcissa's back.
"Have you found your quarters acceptable?" Hermione asked, clearly not comfortable with the silence they had found themselves in. Narcissa nodded.
"Yes, quite acceptable. In all honesty, they are significantly better than what I expected." She replied, making an honest attempt at conversation.
"Oh? I must say that surprises me; I would have thought that the dungeons would seem a bit…inhospitable." The brunette confessed, happy that Narcissa was receptive to her conversation. She hated the silence; it gave her thoughts an opportunity to run wild.
Narcissa smiled at the Gryffindor's comment.
"It is a common misconception," she said "but my accommodations resemble the Slytherin Common Room; it is quite comfortable. It brings me memories of my time as a student."
Hermione smiled; she knew the feeling well. Her own personal quarters were closely modelled after the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Ah, I understand. I believe you have an "inside view" of the Black Lake as well then?"
The blonde nodded in confirmation. She seemed to be about to respond, when suddenly she stopped herself, her expression pensive. Hermione was about to interject when Narcissa finally spoke, changing the subject completely.
"I hope you have been keeping well, Miss Granger." She said.
Hermione contemplated the blonde for a few moments, a little surprised by the sudden turnaround. Narcissa looked to be sincere.
"Thank you. I have." She said simply.
"Good" Narcissa said, seemingly struggling with her words. "I had hoped… I hope that my employment here does not cause you any undue stress." She finally finished, her expression betraying a flash of deep guilt.
The young professor bristled initially, but quickly took in the sincerity of Narcissa's words to heart. The blonde seemed truly and sincerely worried.
"Oh, no, please don't trouble yourself. It's not an issue, I promise." She said confidently.
Narcissa seemed momentarily reluctant to believe her, but did not have the time to formulate a response, as they were startled by the Scottish timbre of Minerva McGonagall's voice echoing through the hall, reverberating off the walls.
"All staff, please assemble in the Great Hall. Our students are on their way."
