Raylynx's POV
So it happened that shortly before Harry's sixth birthday, I became a Professor at Hogwarts. I arrived two weeks before teaching. I was to teach in Maudrick's old classroom, the one overlooking the courtyard with the fountain. I suddenly recalled Marlene and James falling into the frozen fountain. And I remembered years ago, seeing Lily's red hair and Snape's black hair turning away from each other and Professor Maudrick telling me that it was dangerous to trust Slytherins… I wished I had listened to him. Even though I knew I shouldn't be feeling this way, the regret I felt over not killing Bellatrix and for ever daring to trust that Snape would protect Lily created waves of bitter resentment within me.
"Are you satisfied with everything?"
I turned to see Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway.
"Yes," I answered.
She came and stood by me, looking down out the window as well.
"I suppose this place brings many memories to mind," McGonagall guessed.
I smiled wryly. "Is my nostalgia so obvious?"
"There's a curtain of nostalgia that falls over everyone that lived through the war," McGonagall said. "And it's no wonder that the veil is particularly thick around you."
"It's changed so little," I murmured, gesturing to the window. "Only the people have changed."
Professor McGonagall nodded slightly.
I watched her for a brief moment as she gazed out the window. I remembered how she told me about her lost love in fifth year and I wondered if Elphinstone had made any progress in earning her love. That wizard who was deeply in love with Maggie at the Magical Menagerie had finally succeeded in asking for her hand, and she had agreed. Tearfully, she kissed us all good-bye. The new witch that came in was a rather old and dumpy witch. The Menagerie was now so full of magical creatures that the new witch did not miss me when I was gone. She knew of me and took care of me when I arrived, but she seemed more than content not to question my absences, no matter how long I was away. I took my leave then, knowing that I could probably go back whenever I wanted. It had been a good stint while it lasted, putting me close to Aberforth and Hogsmeade pubs had been the most efficient way of gaining information. More than once, information I'd picked up at the Three Broomsticks or through Aberforth had been crucial evidence for Auror investigations. But I was no longer an Auror. And though I was standing back at Hogwarts again, it was no longer as a student.
"There's a staff meeting tonight at eight in the staff room. Don't forget," McGonagall said, breaking into my thoughts. She nodded curtly at me before turning away.
I entered the staff room at the appointed time. Most everybody was gathered there already. But when my eyes fell on the lady directly in front of me, my heart stopped for a second.
It was her, that gaudy fortune-teller who had met Dumbledore at the Hog's Head years ago and was responsible for the prophecy! I was sure of it. All of the teachers had filed in, with Binns wafting in lazily at the rear. Snape was among them but I failed to notice him brooding in the back, so fixed was I on studying this fortune-teller.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Professors," Dumbledore lifted his arms in welcome. "I trust the summer was a restful one."
"As you see before you, we have acquired two new additions to the teaching staff this year," Dumbledore announced. "Professor Raylynx Kingsley has agreed to take on Ancient Runes and Professor Bereth will be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts."
There were murmurs of welcome amongst the Professors and us new Professors inclined our heads in response.
Dumbledore proceeded with general announcements and establishment of rules.
"Though you may often feel tempted to favor your students with House Points and to take away House Points from other Houses' students, I beg that you resist such temptation," Dumbledore said. "Our caretaker, Filch, has once again provided us with a list of banned items, listing roughly three hundred and fifty items." He smiled slyly before concluding. "On that note, I wish you all the best of luck for another year."
As we filed out of the staff room, I suddenly saw a small ghost wearing a bowler hat zooming down the hallway. As he started to throw meat pies at the portraits, whose subjects began screaming and ran for cover, McGonagall barked out, "Peeves, away with you!"
The ghost turned around and stuck out his tongue at McGonagall before drifting away.
"I see you've acquired a Poltergeist," I remarked.
"He's always been around, I'm afraid," Professor Sprout sighed. "It's only recently that he's amused himself by taking on a physical form. We didn't tell the students, as we figured he would be used as a scapegoat once too often."
I laughed. Certainly the Marauders would have taken advantage of Peeves.
Then, a spindly voice said from behind me. "I offer all new teachers a reading for free. I consider it a natural advantage of teaching together. Would you like to come up to my lair?"
I turned around to see Professor Trelawney, looking up at me with her magnifying glasses and her many beads clinking about.
I saw McGonagall flash her a disapproving look.
But this was the woman who had prophesized about Harry as the Boy who Lived…
"I'd be much obliged," I answered firmly.
McGonagall seemed to sigh, but she took her leave of me without comment, speaking instead with Professors Flitwick and Sinistra as they made their way to their quarters.
I, on the other hand, followed Trelawney up to her abode. It was a most curious office, with poufs and cushions all over the place. In the middle of the room, there was a small table upon which sat a crystal ball.
"Sit," Professor Trelawney said, extending her hand to show me where I should sit.
"Now, what shall we begin with? The crystal ball that sees all, the tea leaves which spell out the truth, or the cards that symbolize all omens, good and bad?"
"Er-" I said, taken aback by her questioning. "I'm not sure… whichever one you'd like, I suppose."
"Show me your palm, then."
"Oh…" I lifted my hand palm-up for her inspection.
Bending over my hand, she traced her fingers over some of the lines in my palm.
She began to murmur incoherently for about half a minute before she sighed rather grandly.
"What?" I said. "What do you see?"
"Death."
I blinked, and then paused. Death? The heaviness of the word weighed upon me for a moment. But then I thought, well, of course. What kind of prediction is that? I mean, everyone dies.
Silence ensued for a long moment while Trelawney seemed overcome by the depth of her own prediction. She held her hand to her bosom, as though grieving for me already.
"Um," I said finally. "I don't mean to press, but by chance, could you tell me something more specific about this 'death'?"
"It is coming ever nearer, the way crows circle around carcass-"
"I- Okay, that's quite gruesome-"
"-Storm clouds lingering on an already heavy horizon, always a veil of doom surrounding your destiny… It is quite sad, but alas, it is my fate to impart such sorrowful knowledge on those who seek my expertise."
"Professor Trelawney," I said, my brow furrowed. "I don't mean to press you- I mean, I know Divination is a bit imprecise, but-"
"It is only imprecise to those who do not possess the Sight!"
"Yes, I know," I said a bit impatiently. "But death is always a certainty. I must ask- who, how, when, why? Could you give me any details as to that?"
"The death of a loved one!" Trelawney said dramatically, her eyes impressively large behind her spectacles. "It may even be your parents, my dear girl! I advise you to write to them, make sure that they are well."
Oh, for Merlin's sake. She's a total fraud!
"Sure, I'll do that. I'll make sure to write them a long, touching letter," I said dryly.
"Or a mentor. Think carefully of your guardian figures," she insisted.
"Anything else?" I asked, trying to remain polite but indicating by my tone that I was ready to leave.
"Let us consult the crystal ball!"
"Oh, Professor, let's not-"
"Nonsense! I see the look on your face, but I assure you there is nothing to worry about. Although I am indeed a daughter of Cassandra, the Great Seer, I will not charge you for a second reading. I am generous enough to offer my services for free for my dear colleagues!"
"Truly very generous, but I-"
"The fog swirls!"
Ten minutes later, I thoroughly regretted taking her invitation. It was clear to me that she was a struggling fraud, and could not see anything but fog in her crystal ball.
She finished by telling me, "You will suffer a terrible, terrible loss-"
"I've already done that," I snapped at her, totally fed up with her.
"Wait, I have not yet told you-!" she called, but I had already left the room. I was totally shocked. Dumbledore is banking on a prophecy made by this woman? There's no way she's a legitimate Seer! This must be a joke.
I headed straight for Dumbledore's office, demanding an explanation as to why he had hired this lunatic and more importantly, why he had forced the Potters and Longbottoms to go into hiding based on this rubbish.
"Dumbledore! What the bloody hell are you playing at?"
I paused and faltered in my step when I realized that Dumbledore was entertaining a female guest in elegant robes that I recognized immediately as the Minister of Magic. She was flanked by Ahmed and Shacklebolt.
"Ms. Kingsley, so kind of you to join us," Dumbledore interrupted. "May I introduce Raylynx Kingsley, Minister? She is the newest addition to our teaching staff."
I plastered a pained smile on my face as the Minister eyed me curiously. Clearly, she had already heard about me as the trouble-making protester, the deranged woman who couldn't let go of something that had happened over five years ago. On her left, I saw Ahmed raise an eyebrow at me. As usual, his expression was unnecessarily stern. Shacklebolt looked mildly amused, though he was too dignified to give himself away.
"Er- Minister, pleased," I managed to say.
She inclined her head.
"I'll go, shall I?" I said, feeling a blush rapidly spread across my face.
Shacklebolt coughed delicately, hiding his laugh at my obvious embarrassment.
"Wait for a moment, Ms. Kingsley," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Please continue, Minister."
The Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, replied, "I think I have already said everything I came to say, Headmaster. Crouch cannot become Minister with so tarnished a reputation. You, Headmaster, are the only person I think suitable as Minister. Please run in the upcoming election. I pledge my full support to you."
In a light-hearted voice Dumbledore responded, "My dear Minister, I'm really too old to be running around all over the country. This castle is difficult enough."
"Headmaster, please," Millicent pressed. "There's no other candidate who has sufficient enough knowledge and experience as you do. You are the clear choice."
"I'm flattered, Minister, that you think so highly of me, but I shall have to refuse you," Dumbledore said, and his voice was a tad firmer this time.
The Minister of Magic sighed. "I should have known this would be your response, Dumbledore," she said ruefully. "You never were one to take positions of power."
I watched as Dumbledore accompanied her to the door, where she insisted on leaving without further escort.
When the door closed behind her, Dumbledore turned to me.
"Trouble already, Ms. Kingsley? Term has not yet even begun," he said teasingly.
"Why won't you run for Minister?" I asked bluntly.
"Hogwarts suits me better, don't you think?"
"But you're the head of the Order of the Phoenix," I reminded him. "You could expand your efforts. Take charge and-"
Dumbledore raised his hand to silence me.
"As you adeptly pointed out, I am not to be trusted in positions of power," Dumbledore said, and his voice was no longer as amused as before.
I paused before I ventured to ask, "Why would it be that you are not suited to positions of power? Surely, at some point in your life, genius as you are, you must have thought otherwise."
Dumbledore remained silent before me.
Slowly and cautiously, I pressed further, "Are you talking about what happened to your sister? Or what happened with Grindelwald?"
"Both," Dumbledore said quietly. "They are connected, you see." Sitting on a perch a little ways behind him, Fawkes cawed softly. Dumbledore walked up to him and stroked his feathers.
"But, enough of that," Dumbledore said sternly. He sat behind his desk and put his hands together. "Surely you have some business with me, else you would not have interrupted in the manner you did."
"Yes…" I racked my head to try to remember why I had come up here.
Then, I remembered. "She's a fraud! Trelawney, the one who made the Prophecy, she's a fake!"
Dumbledore's amused smile was back and his blue eyes twinkled once again as he peered at me from over his fingertips.
"She's not the most accurate of Seers, no," he agreed.
I stared at him. Then, I lowered my voice and said with utmost seriousness. "Professor, we are speaking of the fortune teller who has predicted the downfall of Lord Voldemort, who may have inadvertently caused the death of Lily and James. Does it not stir you, even a little, to realize that she is a fake?"
"Not all of her predictions have to be true for one or two to be true," Dumbledore pointed out. "Nor is she herself aware of her own genuine predictions. To be frank, I offered her a position at Hogwarts to try to keep her safe. If Voldemort's supporters discovered her identity and found her first, they would have tortured her endlessly for information she simply couldn't recall."
A flash of pain raced through me as Dumbledore's words made me think of Alice and Frank.
The last time I'd gone to St. Mungo's, the nurse had told me not to come around anymore. "What does it matter," he had said, "if they don't even realize you're here?"
I tried to keep my focus on the here and now. If I wanted to get any information out of Dumbledore, I couldn't afford to be distracted.
I pressed harder, asking, "What is the likelihood that she would chance upon the one true fortune of her life as the prophecy concerning Voldemort and Harry?"
"What indeed?" Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully.
"Headmaster," I said, finally showing a little of my frustration. "Shouldn't we be on the move? I thought that my being here would require engagement of me. I thought that you would make use of me."
"We cannot make our move until Harry arrives at Hogwarts. We simply do not have the information. We must know more about why Harry survived and about whether Voldemort is alive or not and if so, in what form, before we know how to move," Dumbledore said. "I am, of course, gathering research where possible about Voldemort's past. But so far, nothing is close to being actionable. Unless... unless there is something you wish to tell me." His bright blue eyes surveyed me. He wanted me to tell me what I knew. I looked away and steeled my mind from his gaze but a thousand memories rushed into my head. Sirius and the time I spent with him before everything went to pieces, Regulus and the locket and the cave by the sea, Sehtzer and the Vampires' Lair and that strange tree in the middle of the lair, my mission as an Auror to fight in the Department of Mysteries and then in Albania to hunt down that Unspeakable who had worked on life prolongation, Slughorn and his memory of Tom Riddle, Pendragon and the King's Wand and the Serpent sleeping beneath Hogwarts, Ollivander and the Elder Wand and the King's Wand, Borgin and Burke and Hepzibah Smith's Treasures, a person named Gaunt who had once lived in Little Hangleton, and then for some reason- that figure of a man standing before the staircase in Hogwarts, standing before the painting of Barnabas and the trolls, so many years ago… None of it made sense. I knew, I knew, I was missing something- some important piece. But I couldn't explain it, not through words, anyway, and some part of me still hesitated to tell Dumbledore all that I knew. What if I told him something that would help us prepare for Voldemort's rising, but would hurt Harry? I couldn't give Dumbledore that information without knowing how to protect Harry first. And then there was that pact of old magic that came with holding the King's Wand that silenced me. Just as I could not tell Ollivander of how I had obtained the wand, so I could not tell Dumbledore about the sleeping serpent or the giant squid or anything that revealed the parallel history unfolding alongside ours…
Slowly, I shook my head. "Nothing, Professor," I said quietly.
"Well, I hope you will find your second stay at Hogwarts even more lively than your first," Dumbledore said, by his tone steering the conversation to lighter waves and cutting off any further questions from me. "I reckon you will be a most formidable match for even the worst of troublemakers, seeing as you were one yourself."
"I was not," I protested indignantly, and the childish indignation broke through the walls of seriousness that had stood so solidly between us just a second ago.
Dumbledore smiled and for a moment, it felt as though he were Headmaster and I his student again. I remembered having long conversations with Dumbledore during our Occulumency lessons and how he had always arranged for my safety during the summers. I longed to trust him as I once had, because it made me feel that the world was full of wonder and yet kinder and safer. But the feeling faded just as quickly as it had come, and I respectfully took leave of Dumbledore.
"Well. Class." Merlin's beard, I sound so awkward. I could not believe it was possible to be this awkward again so after so many years of fighting it, but here it appeared again- in full force.
I cleared my throat. "Welcome to- well, as I'm sure you all know- Ancient Runes. My name is Rayl- er, Professor Kingsley."
Some fourth-year Slytherin in the back smirked and I even saw a few in the very front ow trying to hide their smiles.
My heart rushed with gratitude for the Hufflepuffs waiting patiently for me to get on with my introduction, though they too looked a little dumb-founded at my inability to string together a coherent sentence.
"Right, then," I said. I paused, realizing that that was also not a full sentence. I rephrased aloud, "Without further ado, let's begin."
It was to my utter relief when I realized that as soon as I actually started to talk about Ancient Runes, the nervousness faded away. It was almost like talking to myself as I traced my fingers over these familiar runes and drew subtly from my experience with magic circles and from Sehtzer's runic language.
"Now, in modern language, this rune is translated to "protection," but actually, it has far more dimensions than just the basic definition of "protection". You see, the notion of "protection" itself spans vertical and horizontal dimensions, thus sparking further questions as to what it truly manifests into. So, we must ask ourselves what type of protection the rune seeks to symbolize and then, we must ask ourselves what the intended range of protection is. See, with our Latin-based spellcasting, we hold these things in our minds as we cast spells. We intuitively imagine the range of the shield when we say Protego, and parallel to that intuition, the rune itself, in the absence of further visualization, inherently has the same ambiguity contained within its structure. Naturally then, what is left for us to decipher on this page illuminates such unknowns, the way circumstances determine what we mean by Protego and the subsequent study of such circumstances illuminates the structures of intended spellcasting. You understand, then, that Runic language allows us to visually map out these different circumstances- Imagine the guides and inferences we can produce from this. It's utterly incredible. There is a good example on page 394, though it is a very basic circle, intentionally using a restricted spell so as to minimize possible interpretation…"
I didn't even notice when, only about five minutes in, the students' smirks slid off their faces and they began to frantically scribble down notes on what I was saying.
Finally, with a few minutes remaining, I asked, "Any questions?"
Dumbfounded faces looked back at me.
"Er…" I faltered. "Was that unclear?"
One student put up her hand.
"Yes?"
"You keep talking about ambiguity. How are we supposed to study that?"
"Well, you understand the essence well enough to understand how different circumstances might influence its meaning," I said, trying to speak slowly and clearly. "Think of it simply: It's what we do with everyday language. You know the difference between "here" and "hear" or you understand "sanction" despite it's having two different meanings because you analyze it in relation to the context it's being used."
She blinked.
"So… how will this appear on an exam?" Another student asked more bluntly.
"I'll give you the circumstances needed to interpret the rune," I said brightly.
Again, there was silence.
"Well…" I said, trying hard to lapse into my awkward self again. "That's all the time for today. Unless there are further questions, I guess- I mean, class is dismissed."
As the students packed up their books and left, I heard several of them grumble, "Damn, I just wanted an easy O. I shouldn't have taken this class."
I heard the same sentiment throughout the next two classes- for both sixth years and seventh years. I heard one student say to another, "What the bloody hell is she talking about? Magic circles? We've only done Runic symbols." I tried to hide my blush and keep a dignified pose as I strode out. My feet instantly started to turn to the portrait of the fruit bowl before the kitchen, but then I realized that I couldn't be caught by my students in there. Instead, I sullenly headed to the teacher's break room.
I ran into Flitwick, who was on his way out.
"Rough first day?" Flitwick asked.
"No, no," I said, trying to smile as I hurried inside.
"Gah!" I let out a shout as Binns glided right through me.
I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured down my back.
"Do watch where you're going."
I turned around to see Professor McGonagall right behind me, eyeing me quite skeptically.
She entered the teacher's room behind me, closing the door.
She turned to face me. "How was it?" she asked.
"It was fine," I said airily, delicately taking out a mug.
I saw McGonagall's slight smirk and knew she saw straight through my poorly executed façade.
I unceremoniously put the mug down, nearly slamming it, and fell back into a chair.
"Professor, they hate me!" I moaned.
"There, there," she said dryly, not at all sympathetic. "I'm sure they like you just as much as you liked us when you were in their shoes."
"How do I know if they understand what I'm saying?" I asked.
"Over time, you will become attuned to the varying degrees of utter confusion on students' faces," McGonagall said, whirling her wand neatly. A mug tipped gently from the cabinet onto the counter and tea began to fill the mug.
"I just want them to appreciate Ancient Runes as I do," I said. "But they only care about getting an easy grade or-or-"
"Raylynx," McGonagall said sternly, lifting the mug from the counter and turning to face me. "You can only give them the opportunity. That is the best that a Professor can do. Show them what Ancient Runes can be. But know that no matter how well you present it, the students must take it upon themselves to open their eyes without prejudice. Yes, it is frustrating and demoralizing to see your subject go unappreciated and I suspect that is truer of elective subjects than standard subjects, but nonetheless, you cannot take your students' disinterest as an indication of your failure. You can only try. From student to Professor, that aspect does not change." So suck it up, her tone said.
"And at least, when your students mess up, it's only a jot of misused ink. I somehow recall that when my students messed up, they set everything on fire."
And with that, Professor McGonagall left the staff room.
After I finished my cup of tea, I made my way back towards my classroom to set up for my next class. I was taking the stairs up to my classroom when, on the level just before mine, I heard something in the corridor that made me pause.
"You're a little blood traitor, aren't you? Just like your parents. And you're a freak! I saw you- changing your face like some monster-"
I leapt out from the staircase, where I saw an older Slytherin boy shoving a first-year Hufflepuff boy against the wall. He gave him one last shove before turning away.
"Freak," he muttered again.
"I don't think so," I said, through gritted teeth. "Stop!" I appeared from the staircase.
The Slytherin boy turned back and looked at me with a mixture of contempt and anxiety.
"Name?" I said sternly.
"For what?" he asked aggressively. He must have been a fifth or sixth year, as he was nearly my height.
"I didn't do anything," he challenged.
"I saw you. Name!" I said strictly.
"Gibbon," he said sullenly.
"Well, Mr. Gibbon, you have just cost your House-"
"Excuse me," a sarcastic voice rang out behind me. "On what grounds do you purport to punish my student? He did nothing wrong, from what I saw."
The very blood in my body tightened at the sound of that voice.
Slowly, I turned. My eyes met with Snape's.
He saw the undeniable hatred in my eyes. For a moment, his eyes widened slightly, but then they narrowed immediately as he sneered at me.
"Perhaps it's you who cannot seem to comprehend what bullying is," I said, tight-lipped.
"Mr. Gibbons, I suggest you move on to your next class," Snape said, his eyes locked on mine but speaking to the students. "And you, Ms. Tonks." The young girl scurried off and I swear for a moment, her hair flashed pink as she ran off, but I wasn't sure if it was her actual hair or just the sunlight reflecting off of it in the corridor. Gibbons slowly, almost defiantly walked away as well.
As soon as Gibbons was out of the corridor, I also pushed roughly past Snape and went back to the staircase. My heartbeat thundered in my chest so hard it was physically painful. All I could hear was a high-pitched buzzing as I hurriedly climbed the stairs to my office. You were supposed to protect Lily. You were supposed to love her. You were supposed to save her.
The first couple weeks passed a blur. I found teaching difficult. It was not in my natural personality to be so outspoken and articulate. I was far better at performing Ancient Runes than teaching it, especially because so much of what I learned had not been learned in schoolbooks. It was also extremely discouraging to see so many students treat the subject as a total joke. But I persevered and I found bright spots. For one, Bill Weasley was genuinely interested in Ancient Runes and sometimes spoke to me about the possibility of becoming a Treasure Hunter or Curse Breaker or something of the like. For another, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were always encouraging and I made good friends with the Astronomy and Arithmancy Professors, Professors Vector and Sinistra. But other things didn't change. I still wrote to the Daily Prophet about Sirius, only to receive unending silence. I wrote to other newspapers as well, though only the Quibbler would ever publish anything I had to say. Still, news spread of my "political views" and students and Professors alike treated me with contempt. More than once, Professors Vesper and Sinistra had begged me to keep silent, saying it was bringing up old ghosts that nobody wanted to hear about anymore.
One morning after the Quibbler had published another of my pleas, I came down to breakfast to see Professor Vesper's face staring exasperatedly at me. I tried to evade her view as I sat down a few seats down at the teacher's table. The owls came fluttering in just after I took my seat, and my owl came by, dropping a letter before me. I stroked his wings gently before he took off for the Owlery. It was a reply from Lupin. I had sent him a letter to update him on where I was and asked him to come to Sola's wedding with me. The letter started off in a teasing tone: Dear most esteemed Professor Kingsley… I laughed at the false pompousness and then smiled when I saw that he had accepted my invitation to Sola's wedding.
I taught a full slate of classes that day, ending with my seventh years. I had inscribed a version of the Protection Rune on the board- a simple version. As I gazed at the pattern, I thought briefly of Sehtzer and then of Sirius, that night I had inscribed it on his chest and we had kissed…
"Professor Kingsley, can you move? You're er- you're blocking the view."
That evening, I had just entered the Great Hall and was making my way to the teacher's table when I heard Snape's greasy voice in the hall.
"And that will be ten points from Gryff-"
"Excuse me," I said stolidly, hurriedly butting in. I recognized the Gryffindor student as Charlie Weasley, now in his young second-year. For being so young, he had a stocky stature and it looked as though he had managed to land a fist on the Slytherin boy in front of him.
"I don't believe you're needed here," Snape said quickly to me.
"Mr. Weasley," I said, turning to Charlie. "What happened?"
"He insulted my family, Professor," Charlie explained.
"He punched me!" the Slytherin student said indignantly, holding the side of his face.
"Violence is never tolerated," Snape said. "Ten points from Gry-"
"Bullying is not tolerated either," I interjected. "Apologize to each other. Now."
Charlie hesitated, but said grudgingly, "I'm sorry I hit you."
The Slytherin boy's face contorted in angry at the shame he felt in being forced to apologize. As though reading his mind, Snape sighed and drawled, "As morally righteous as you take yourself to be, Professor Kingsley, we Professors do not take it upon ourselves to treat our students as though they were infants. Punishment will suffice. Now, if you would allow me to-"
"Mr. Weasley has apologized. I think that will suffice- at least for Gryffindor. Now, then, run along," I said. The students both left us.
"So petty of you," Snape spit at me. "You act like a child."
"Be grateful I do," I retorted.
"Though I expect nothing less from someone who still insists on defending a mass murderer," Snape replied.
"Don't push me, you two-faced snake," I growled in a low voice.
"You cling onto insane hopes like no other, stubborn even in the face of overwhelming evidence. You must remember when Sirius Black nearly killed me."
"You mean when James Potter saved your life?" I shot back.
His upper lip curled into an angry sneer.
Aware of students starting to watch curiously as we stood mere inches apart, fiercely hissing and whispering insults at each other. We abruptly broke off our antagonistic conversation and each took our leave in opposite direction, our faces tense with anger. The poor Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who had Snape next were alarmed by his horrible mood and my fifth years struggled to understand why I was quite so angry about grammatical possibilities for linking two Elemental Runes.
Dumbledore and McGonagall had been watching from the other end of the Great Hall. Dumbledore looked a little amused, though there was a slight tension and sadness in his expression, while Professor McGonagall scowled, totally irate.
"They're worse than the students," McGonagall said. "Petty and borderline uncivil. I will have to have a word with Raylynx. She must learn to control herself. Not just with this, but with her writing too. How long has it been since the imprisonment of Sirius Black? And still she writes…"
"Leave that be, Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly. "It'll come to no harm."
"What was your purpose of bringing her here, Albus?" McGonagall questioned. "I realize we needed an Ancient Runes Professor and no doubt, she's qualified, but… You haven't sent her on any missions. I assumed she was a natural ally. I was… surprised when you appointed Severus and not Raylynx to accompany me in identifying Bob Ogden. Do you not trust her? Is it because she disappeared all those years during the War?"
"It's not a matter of trust," Dumbledore said. "I would simply like her to have a bit of a break. After all those long years at war… let her experience adulthood in its simplicity."
And though Dumbledore didn't say it, McGonagall knew he was referring to the possibility of even longer years ahead.
She sighed. "Yes, as you say, Albus. I suppose it will have to be on me to keep the House Points fair."
Dumbledore chuckled. "What would Hogwarts be without you, Minerva? I shudder to think."
a/n: Hope everyone is safe and sound!
