The Last of the Mhyrriad

The Last of the Mhyrriad

CHAPTER THE FIRST

The Unexpected Guest

"Attention please. Attention!" The Great Hall's excited roar of chatter lowered to complete silence at Dumbledore's request.

"Now I have a few announcements to make to commence the year. First, as a school record I believe, this if the first year that no new items have been added to Mr. Filch's Forbidden Items list. Due to last year's events, students are asked not to go within ten feet of the Forbidden Forest, or else to risk expulsion. On a brighter note, we have three new members of the staff. It is my pleasure to reacquaint you with an old alumnus. Oliver Wood will be joining us as our Defense against the Dark Arts professor, as he takes a hiatus from his Quidditch career due to a torn arm muscle." As he said this, a tall, muscular man of about nineteen stepped forward. Oliver had been the Quidditch captain for Gryffindor two years back, and had played for the Puddlemere Reserve team the previous year. Voices (mainly female) rose as the handsome old classmate resumed his seat, but fell at the clearing of the silver-haired headmaster's throat.

"It is also my great sorrow to announce Professor Flitwick's retirement to I believe...Aruba. However, we have another familiar face filling in to teach Charms - Fleur Delacour. She is unable to be with us tonight, but I am sure that you will all see her tomorrow.

Finally, we have a new class this year, to be offered as an enrichment course to students and teachers alike. The newest discovery of magic will be taught in Telepathy and Other Means of Magical Communications, taught by an exchange student whom we are hosting, Cerise Volcane. She has recently graduated from Salem's Academy of Sorcery in the United States of America, here for advanced study of Herbology. Cerise, would you mind coming forward?"

A curvaceous, red-robed young woman glided to the center of the room, next to Dumbledore. Her face was framed in waist-length wavy black hair. Almond-shaped, slightly tilted green eyes and full, plump lips accentuated her honey-tan skin, and she smiled at the crowd, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth. Nodding her head, she took a seat next to Wood's at the Head table.

"With all that ado, let the feast begin." At the last word, gold plates of savory food appeared along the four house and the head tables. A cheer erupted as everyone dug into serving platters strewn with roast beef and chickens, slices of ham, and cutlet of lamb, as well as a vast array of seafood, and an even more impressive selection of side dishes, soups, stews, and almost every food imaginable to the starving pupils.

Oliver became soon engaged in conversation with the beautiful girl on his right.

"Well, I'm from Lanai - that's an Island in Hawaii. Not many people live there; most are on Oahu, where Honolulu is. That's where most of the tourists go, too. There's not much of a wizarding community; I live in the rainforest, next to a waterfall. It's really quite beautiful there, that's why I love herbology so much. Unfortunately, Salem didn't have such a great Herbology department; it was mainly based upon potions, divination and transfiguration. We had a world acclaimed Arithmancy program, too. So you went here, did you? What made you take on the Defense job?"

"Yes, graduated two years ago. I always liked Defense best. Only class I was good at besides Quidditch, if that counts. Had ruddy teachers though. Lupin, in my seventh year, was the only good one. Actually, Gerard O'Malley, in the first three years, wasn't bad. He got killed by a chimera a few years back, though. So then there was Quirrell, worked for You-know-who, Lockhart in my sixth year, a bloody loon. Sorry, didn't mean to bore you."

"Oh don't worry. So who are the staff? I know Albus, but the rest... brief me."

"Umm... okay. Down there, that's Severus Snape. Nasty greasy-haired git. The staff can't stand him, none of the students can either, except for the Slytherins, but they're a bunch of slimy greasy haired gits themselves... not to prejudice you though. He's the Slytherin head of house. Next to him, is Trelawney. She's divination professor, don't see her often. Says we cloud her 'inner eye'. Load of dung if you ask me. Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor and teacher of Transfiguration. Strict, but really kind. Definitely kind, she put up with me all through my seven years, plus she's got the Weasley twins. Sprout, you'll like her. Head of Hufflepuff and she teaches Herbology. Bit of a pushover though, really. I'm sorry, I'm just giving you the student's point of view, never worked with them before as a peer."

"Don't worry. I'll probably see them the same way. And the one there?"

"Professor Vector, of Ravenclaw. He teaches Arithmancy, but..."

The feast soon ended, and the students filed out of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall led Oliver and Cerise out of the Hall and into a long, winding corridor Oliver did not remember from his school days. He smiled as Cerise's eyes darted all over the walls, talking in the moving suits of armor and the paintings along the walls, looking mildly impressed. As they approached a large and magnificent painting of a sea nymph, Professor McGonagall conjured it away to reveal an oak door, intricate carvings adorning the four front panels. With a wave of her wand, she attached a small brass sign to the front of the door.

O. Wood / C. Volcane

"I'm afraid that none of the other offices are in condition for inhabitation, but as this is a duplex suite, I'm sure it will do." She opened the door to reveal a white and cream room, trimmed in Gold leaf, and divided in two by a wall three feet shorter than the width of the room. At the back of each section was another carved door, each with similar intricate designs.

"These are your offices - a sound-proof charm ensures privacy for the two sections. Wood, there is an additional office for you off of the Defense classroom. The doors in the back lead you to separate chambers that share a bathroom. I will see you at eight o' clock tomorrow morning for breakfast. Goodnight." With that, she walked back into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

Cerise and Oliver stood and looked at each other after McGonagall left. After a very awkward pause, Oliver said, slightly nervously, "Well... G'night then." Flashing her pearl white teeth in a relieved smile, Cerise replied, "Good Night." In a voice reminding Oliver of honey, it was so smooth and clear. He watched after her as she walked through the left side office and through the doorway, hips swaying tantalizingly. He continued to stand there a few moments after she closed the door, then recollecting his wits, proceeded to the room on the right.

His chamber was large and decorated in the same manner as the offices. On one end of the room were two cream couches and a coffee table, in front of a roaring fire. On the other, a king sized elegant mahogany bed swathed in sheets of varying shades of cream. The walls were lined with enormous white curtained windows, edged in gold. Oliver noticed his trunks piled in the far corner of the room. Brown leather and of common design, they didn't match at all with the décor, but then again, neither did he. Oliver wouldn't have minded sleeping in the Quidditch field. Actually, he would have preferred it. As he undressed and readied for bed, his thoughts fell on Cerise. Beautiful, graceful, she fit right in with this environment. But as he thought of Cerise, a funny feeling spread over him, and his heart skipped a beat. Brushing it away, he blew out the candles, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the downy pillows.

***

A/N: Well there it is, the beginning of my very first fanfic. Review Please! Well, at the end in any case because the WHOLE FIC is done! And it doesn't stay this fluffy the entire time, I promise. But a good amount of fluff I think. Also, I need a beta-reader, so anyone interested can E-mail me at [email protected]. Greatly appreciated! And as a little bit of info you don't care about, Cerise is supposed to look like a very tan, Eurasian Scarlett O'Hara. See, I told you that you didn't care. And any gross ideas you have about the origin of her name, yeah, don't even go there.

CHAPTER THE SECOND

A Golden Song

"Oliver. Mr. Wood. Oliver." Oliver felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. As he groaned an opened his eyes, two almond shaped, slightly tilted deep green eyes met his, looking shiny and enormously awake for whatever damn early hour it was.

"Oliver, breakfast is in half an hour. You need to get up." He sat up abruptly. It was Cerise, wearing a short, low-necked bathrobe, and as far as he could tell, nothing else.

"Sorry about waking you up and all that, but I figured that you wouldn't want to oversleep and make a bad impression. The bathroom's over by the back left corner of the room. I'm all done with it, so you can take whatever time you have left. Meaning not much." She was now opening all the curtains so that yellow sunlight poured into the room. Maybe it wasn't as early as he thought. As he sat up, she wove her hand over a glass vase and a bouquet of pink and yellow roses appeared. She set it on the table.

"What? How - how did you do that? You didn't use a wand, did you?" Cerise shrugged.

"I don't know, a sort of talent. I never needed a wand or anything for magic. I suppose it's just a very innate form."

Oliver began to rise out of bed, but stopped as he realised that he wasn't wearing anything. Cerise smirked at his panicked look, and ran her eyes over his bare upper body, then laughed as though she had a joke all to herself.

"I see. Well, I'll just leave you then." And flashing her brilliant smile again, she strode out of the room.

Cerise headed into Greenhouse Six, basket in hand. This was the most dangerous greenhouse the Hogwarts grounds had to offer, filled with plants that refused to just stand there prettily, but had characteristics that severely risked the lives of those trying to control them, or just unluckily happen to wander into their path. Due to the risk factor in keeping them, Salem Academy had disposed of many of the plants about fifty years ago, when several students, as well as the teacher, were mauled by a particularly vicious, oversized Venus Flytrap.

Therefor, Cerise claimed she had come to Hogwarts to study and attempt to tame the wild and lethal vegetation, but that wasn't the main reason she was here. Her task today was to conquer the Carnivorous Razorvinus. In a far corner, she spotted it, a terracotta pot with toothed tendrils waving wildly. Each vine was as wide as her waist, and twice as high as the twenty-foot ceiling, decorated by orange and yellow teeth the size of her fist. In the middle of this dangerous whirling dervish was a black hole surrounded by forty rows of teeth. In the depth of this hole was a single orange blossom, that resembled an orchid, known as the Coeur du Monstre. It was this that Cerise intended on obtaining, though previous attempts had resulted in death - that of the pursuer. But Cerise was not just another witch, and she knew how to subdue the gigantic plant.

Opening her mouth, she began to sing a wordless song. Her voice was not just beautiful, the way a choir of nymphs' might be, but it was magical. Gold dust billowed out of her mouth and the arms of the Carnivorous Razorvinus drooped, the rows of teeth stopped their swirling, and Cerise plunged her arm inside the black hold and summoned the blossom into her out stretched palm. She left one petal so that it would grow back and not harm the plant, but her voice was growing hoarse, and tendrils were beginning to stir again. She dropped the blossom into her basket, and gave out a last wavering note as she shut the door behind her.

Professor Sprout entered the Greenhouse soon after and noticed a pale gold dust on the floor. Bending over, she pressed her finger to the ground then lifted it. The shimmer lingered for a minute, then absorbed into her finger, leaving not a trace. The plump woman became confused. The only others allowed in here were Dumbledore and Cerise. But the first class hadn't even begun, and neither of them had been in here yet, she was sure of it. Putting aside the thoughts for a later date, she drew out her wand and began to water the plants.

Heart racing, Cerise ran up into her chamber. In the corner, a large, half-full, golden cauldron lay simmering over green flames. She pulled out the vibrant orange blossom and shredded it between her fingers, sprinkling it into the solution. The formerly acid-green liquid fizzed, then turned a lavender color. She let out a sigh of relief. Everything was going exactly as planned.