Author's Note: Sorry for the crazy long delay! Thankfully, summer is almost here which will mean much quicker updates. Many, many thanks to all my readers and reviewers thus far. Hope you all enjoy the new chapter.
Disclaimer: I once again do not own anything related to Harry Potter.
Chapter One:
The first of September proved to be a delightfully dreadful day. Rain fell from the sky at a steady and consistently annoying rate. Everyone in Hogsmeade village had taken refuge in the pubs and shops.
Outside of a small home, near the outskirts of town, a stray dog sniffed and searched among the garbage bins. Sadly, there were no leftovers to feed its aching stomach. It laid against the side of the house, giving up its search, but refused to venture back into the dismal weather. As though lulled to sleep by the steady beat of the rain, the dog closed its eyes, but it did not get to know the peace of sleep. Not five feet away, a heavy cloaked figure appeared with a loud pop. The dog, frightened by the sound or the presence of the mysterious cloaked figure, yelped in surprise before running away.
"Why must that old bat always be right?" The figure spat into the darkness. Lightening lit up the sky illuminating the figure and two haunting pale green eyes shining from under its hood. Rain had already seeped into the thick velvet of Meladire's traveling cloak. She knew there was no way of reaching her destination without first becoming soaked to the bone. Silently, she began the walk towards Hogwarts Castle.
Silvia, in her prediction that the younger woman would not depart until the last minute, had been proved correct. Thankfully, prior to her departure, the new History of Magic professor had sent all her luggage to the school. That is, all but a small bag which held only her personal effects. The extremity of her tardiness revealed itself when she arrived at King's Cross five minutes after the departure of the Hogwarts Express. "Never in all my years," she mumbled under breath as she continued to trudge up the path. The earth was beginning to turn to mush beneath her feet, and the more chilled her bones became, the more heated her temper rose.
Step by measly step, she neared her destination. Even in all her years as a student, she never thought she had been as grateful to be at school as she was when she entered through the gates. She was walking into the entrance hall moments later.
With a quick flick of her wand, she was dry once more. The warmth of the hall beat against the chill of the rain but did little to lighten her mood. Must look on the bright side of things, she commanded herself. I am here, out of that horrid, damp weather, and I must not let everyone think that a little bit of rain can defeat my spirits. After lowering her hood, she proceeded towards the staircases in hope of getting settled in and changed before the feast began.
"Miss. Meladire," a voice called just as she passed the doors leading to the Great Hall.
She stopped in her tracks and turned to see none other than the Head Master watching her behind half-moon spectacles. "Hello, Professor," she replied with a polite, yet curt, nod of her head. Curtains of white blond slid from her lowered hood and cascaded over her shoulders. "I did not expect to see you so soon."
"Neither did I. The train must be swifter this term, or perhaps its my memory that is slowing." His periwinkle eyes danced their regular gig. Oh how he used to infuriate her while she was a student. He could see straight through anyone. Thirteen years seemed to have had no effect on his all-knowing senses.
"Again, you never miss a thing," she said. "I departed from my home late and chose to apparate near Hogsmeade Village rather than catch the train." That of course was not the whole truth.
"Ah. Than your quick thinking has given you an advantage."
"Yes, sir. I had hoped to get settled before the students arrive." She shuffled the bag she had been carrying from one arm to another. Now was not the time she wished to entertain him with witty banter, a game at which he never lost.
"I trust you know where your classroom and chambers are," the head master stated.
"Yes, sir." How could I forget? She thought to herself. Professor Binns had taught History of Magic for longer than anyone cared to guess. Some would interrupt class by attempting to throw things through him while his back was turned. Completely terrible of them to do so, but it would taste a lie in her mouth to say that she had not joined in with the laughter.
"Right then. See you at the feast." The elder wizard waved her on her way.
Her feet immediately found the right path; up the first flight of stairs to the right, down the corridor, third door on the left. Every stair, door, tapestry, and painting occupied the same place as it had all her years as a student. Meladire swung open the heavy oak door of her classroom. Rows of desks hooked around the room. Each level was stacked upon another leading to her desk. With silent steps she assumed her position as though her first class was already in session. Imaginary students filled the desks and stared at her like an actor on stage. The heavy beating of her heart increased in anticipation. Not allowing herself to dwell on the promise of tomorrow, she continued threw a small door hidden from view by the edge of a series bookshelves.
Less than half the size of the classroom, her chambers held no more than the bare necessities. A full bed covered with brown sheets and pillows with golden thread artistically depicting intricate designs stretched to the center of the room. There was also a small table accompanying the bed, a small chest of drawers, and a worn in love seat was pushed against one wall. Surrounding the love seat was several pieces of black luggage and a matching cat carrier. The door to the cage hung open. "Mordred," Meladire spoke gazing around the room. Not so much as a whisker could be found of the silver feline.
Not caring to waste anymore of her time, she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at her bags. Immediately, they opened, and all her belongings hovered around the room. Neatly folded clothing divided into the chest of drawers. Also, small miniatures of a coat rack, rug, curtains, and waist-high shelves began stretching themselves like taffy until they were once again their proper size. Within moments, every bag was empty and hidden beneath the skirt of her bed. A final flick of her wrist untied her cloak from her shoulders and hung it on the rack now placed behind the entrance to her rooms. Now, time to prepared myself for the feast, Meladire thought approaching an open doorway which led to her private powder room.
Steam slowly seeped from the bathroom just as Mordred pranced through the main door to his owner's chambers. Sniffing the air, he followed the sound of the water until he stood outside the shower. He sat, for a moment, and watched the curtain as though it was about to transform into a large bundle of catnip. Then, the cat leapt into the shower and ducked under the damp curtain. A small squeak erupted from within the shower, and the water stopped.
"Mordred!" Meladire exclaimed at her feline's sudden appearance. She shoved the curtain to one side and grabbed a towel to dry herself. "There's water in here. Why don't you act like the cat that you are stay away from it?" She watched as he merely stared up at her with water covering his paws. With an aggrivated sigh, the witch stepped out of the shower and grabbed her wand. A tap to her head instantly dried her hair and with a twist, gathered it into a sleek and shining French twist. Rapid scratching and moaning brought her gaze back to the tub. Two paws appeared then vanished over it edge. "Not quite so easy to get out when its slick, is it?" She spoke a smirk playing on her pale lips.
Mordred merely stared up at her. A single meow escaped his mouth.
With an exasperated sigh, the professor reached in and picked up her pitiful familiar. She held him at arms length until he was once again on the floor. He promptly shook any loose droplets from his fur before slowly making his way out the door. "Useless creature," Meladire mumbled to herself before turning to her reflection in the mirror. Her smooth alabaster skin carried few signs of aging, and she had never fancied plastering her skin with makeup in order to fight them off. She traced light brown shadow round her eye and applied a nude lipstick from the bag she had carried with her before reentering her bedroom.
Mordred had taken up residency on her bed and fallen fast asleep. I wonder what kind of mischief he has gotten himself into already, Meladire thought shaking her head. Long fingers trailed over the fabrics of her robes within the drawer open before her. Keen eyes taking in every detail, she pulled a mass of light brown, almost nude, fabric with black velvet accents at the collar, waist, and wrists. She quickly changed and made her way for the door. The students would be arriving any moment.
"Meow." She turned on her heels to see Mordred standing at the entrance to the lavatory with two black gloves caught between his teeth. He sauntered at his constant slow pace and dropped them at her feet. She picked them up then looked back to the cat. "Fine, I will play along," she sighed slipping the gloves on. Without another word, she shut and locked the door before venturing back to the Great Hall.
Stopping just outside the entrance to the Great Hall, Meladire listened to the load roar of voices coming from inside. The returning students had already arrived and were seated at the four house tables with the staff surrounding the head table. Most were still engaged in conversation. Only a few had already taken their seats. No better way to make an entrance, I suppose, she thought stepping into the bright candlelight of the hall.
Her pace was steady as she made her way down the center aisle. Her heels echoed each step causing heads to turn. Whispers began to spread. However, the new professor never took her sights off the staff table, and the headmaster who watched her as intently as any of the students. "Who do you suppose that is?" One Hufflepuff whispered to another. "Do you think she is here from the Ministry?" A second year Ravenclaw girl inquired to her friends. Once she climbed the stairs and joined the rest of the staff, a firm smirk tugged at her lips. Dumbledore nodded towards a chair between Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey, and she gracefully slid into the space and folded her gloved hands in her lap. Mere seconds later, McGonagall entered the Great Hall with the first years shuffling nervously behind her.
As the sorting began, the memory of her first time in Hogwarts forced itself through the barrier of her mind. She had been as petrified as anyone would have expected. The nerves had set in the moment the Hogwarts Express had lurched from its platform. Dwelling on the past, she felt the weight of the Sorting Hat as it had been placed upon her head and the relief that had washed over her long ago when the hat had shouted, "Ravenclaw." Her attention was abruptly thrown back to the present. She watched as a girl ran to the Ravenclaw table and joined the rest of her new house. One by one, each student took his or her turn sitting upon the stool and was sorted.
When all had been finally sorted, Dumbledore stood behind his golden owl stand, preparing to give his infamous beginning of the year speech. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," the headmaster began in his normal cheerful voice. "I have just a few words to share with you all before we become too engrossed in the glorious feast that has been prepared.
"This year, due to recent events, we shall be playing host to the dementors of Azkaban." Gasps and whispers erupted throughout the hall. "On a more delightful note," he stated quickly changing the topic, "I am pleased to welcome three changes in staff this year. At the end of last term, Professor Kettleburn and Professor Binns handed in their letters of resignation. I am proud to introduce Professor R.J. Lupin, who has graciously accepted taking over as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." A small applause arose, and she heard the scraping of a chair as the professor stood. Curiosity flashed within Meladire's gaze as she peered down the long table. Lupin, she rolled the name around in her mind. As he bowed, brown hair streaked with gray fell into his eyes. He took his seat, and the applause died completely. "Also, please help me in welcoming our new History of Magic professor, Calista Meladire." She stood with eyes downcast. The applause continued, and she lifted her haunting gaze to her future students. Like Lupin before her, she bowed, not quite as deep, then resumed her seat. "And our Rubeous Hagrid will replace Professor Kettleburn." Dishes clattered away from their proper setting as the groundskeeper also stood for applause. "Good luck to you all. Now, let us enjoy our magnificent feast," the headmaster concluded. Immediately, platters piled high with any food one could imagine appeared on the five long tables. Soon, plates and goblets were filled to everyone's desire. Chattering, once again, filled the hall as students and professors told their adventures over the summer holiday.
"It is about time we got some new faces around here," the school nurse said eyeing Calista.
The younger woman shot her a quick smile and took a sip from her goblet.
"Did you attend Hogwarts?" Madame Pomfrey inquired.
The new professor set her glass on the table with a small clink then replied, "Yes, I was in Ravenclaw." She answered the next question before it had a chance to be asked.
"Is this your first experience teaching?" This time the voice came from her left where Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw, sat.
"Yes, it is," she replied picking up her golden utensils. Her plate was full, and breakfast was a forgotten memory.
"Well, the first day is always hardest," Flitwick advised already munching away.
"I'll keep that in mind," Calista said. After a moment, when the conversation did not continue, she began taking part in her dinner. Each morsel was cut clean with her knife, and not a drop showed on her napkin. Once everyone had ate and drank their fill, students were led by the prefects to their dormitories. Soon, the professors began to leave as well.
Some hurried off to the privacy of their chamber, while others walked slowly with one or two colleagues in toe. "Professor Lupin," Calista said just as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor passed by her place setting, "I don't believe we have been formally introduced." Shock by her forwardness flashed across his face. A black clad hand extended itself to the werewolf. "Calista Meladire."
"Remus Lupin." He took her hand loosely within his.
Her eyes found and traced the fresh scratches that decorated his hands. "Pleasure." She released his hand and began making her way out of the hall with her new colleague close by. A moment of silence passed. Green eyes flickered to the new professor alongside her who had just opened his mouth to speak. "Yes, this is my first time teaching. I also attended Hogwarts and was sorted into Ravenclaw." Her words were quick and heavy articulated. "Any other questions?" Calista asked turning to him as the reached to base of the staircase. His face was completely blank. "Well, professor, tomorrow is going to be a big day for the two of us, so I am going to bow out and call it an evening." The left corner of her mouth stretched into a smirk. Green irises bore into Lupin's pale blue ones, and the witch caught herself wondering when his eyes had lost any sign of a spark. Bringing her thoughts to a screeching halt, the witch uttered a quick "good night" before turning on her heel and ascending the stairs towards her chambers.
Before she was able to enter her rooms, a blood curling sound made her blood run cold. "What in the name of Merlin-" Calista cursed as her gaze swept the room in search of the source. A second time it sounded. It was coming from within her chambers. Stretched across the floor beneath her door was dozens of cuts in the wood. Then, two dark paws popped out from under the door as the screeching, for there was no matter word to describe it, continued. "Mordred?"
The paws immediately stilled.
"Why do the Fates torture me with such a useless feline?" The professor sighed as she unlocked and opened the door. Stretched flat on his belly with fixed amber eyes upon his own. "Meow." In an instant, he was up and sprinting out the door on another adventure. Shaking her head, Calista shut the door behind her as she entered her rooms. She shook her head thinking, and the term has only just begun.