Rating:: PG
House:: Astronomy Tower
Era:: Multiple Eras
Stats:: Published: 02/02/2002

Updated: 02/09/2002

Words: 22,974

Chapters: 4

Hits: 2,610

Slytherin Pride

Slyth Snake

Story Summary:: Lessons, students, Snape and Peeves. All in the same day. How's a girl to cope?

Chapter 01

Posted:: 02/02/2002

Hits:: 1,596

Author's Note:: contains voting

* * * * *

Slytherin Pride
Chapter One – The New School Year

By Slytherin’s Silver Snake

* * * * *

Hmm… Is it morning already? Cerise Corvus mumbled into her white feather pillow, which was being strewn with dimming light from a half-open curtain; the rest of the room remaining in partial darkness. No. Not morning. Having arrived the previous day – and very late, she might add, Cerise had wanted to go straight to bed; but this had been shot out of the water by none other than an old friend by the name of Severus Snape. They hadn’t heard from each other for about eighteen years, and he had greeted her almost as soon as she’d entered Hogwarts through the main gates, his face as sullen as usual. I don’t know how he could keep it under control like that, she thought, remembering her friend’s composed façade as he stood watching her from the top of the marble stairs. I was petrified. Felt as if I’d suffered a full body-bind. He had then walked her to her private quarters, inviting himself inside her room for a talk in the progress – that’s what she thought. But she had let him. After all, as old friends they had a lot to talk about. Damn him. WHY did he have to keep me talking all night long? He knows that I’m not an early riser! I bet that he did it on purpose! A closed fist reached out in anger and went to thump the pillow behind the one that her head was resting on.

Unfortunately, due to the amount of butterbeer that she had consumed during her and Severus’ late-night and early-morning tête-à-tête, Cerise’s fist blindly missed its target and smacked painfully into the mahogany headboard. “Ow!!” Feeling as if she’d just been a victim of Cobbing in a Quidditch match – and remembering that time in which she had indeed been – Cerise immediately shook her injured hand as she pulled it away from the headboard, turning onto her back as she did, cursing like a Muggle Sailor. Her slightly curvaceous figure was wrapped up in lilac-colored bedsheets, a pale arm drawing them across her pale chest while black ringlets of hair fell lightly over the back and front of her shoulders. Oh well… At least he’s probably having as bad a time as I am… I hope.

Cerise then tumbled back against the headboard, her back propped by several of the feather pillows. Evidently, the house-elves had been busy to clean her room before she had arrived. It’s too bad that they don’t know how to cure hangovers. If I walked into the Sorting Ceremony looking like this, Snape would-! Cerise then froze in mid-sentence, her yellow-gray eyes wide-open, revealing their alarm. “Got to see, got to see,” she mumbled aloud, her eyes darting around the bedroom of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. “Come on. Where is it?!” she shouted, half-rising in the bed; and as she threw the top lilac sheet onto the floor and looked around, she could tell that her room was practically bare; all of the previous occupant’s belongings had been moved out and replaced by hers, which were still in storage in several boxes that were piled around the room. The only things there, apart from the bed, were a pair of wooden chairs, which had been whittled into the shapes of crisscrossed vines, and a table, where a bottle of last night’s butterbeer remained as a reminder of their talk.

Leave it to him to act as if nothing’s happened. Mind you, it’s not as if I want him changed. He sees it as his personal job to badger the entire student population, and that’s what makes him who he is – harsh, sarcastic and one hell of a callous bastard. As she thought about her old friend, Cerise could feel her pulse racing slightly. And he can be quite charming – when he wants to be. Good grief Corvus! You really shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s been almost twenty years, girl! Quickly flicking around the room, her hawkish eyes spotted the small timepiece that was placed precariously on top of the fireplace at the end of the room, opposite the door that led into her office. And don’t forget about that Slytherin ambition.

She then let her left hand drift below the bed, feeling around for a certain object, her raven hair falling down over her shoulders as she crouched over the side of her bed. Now I know that I placed her here last night, so where is it? I wasn’t that drunk-” Her hand then passed over a small wooden object. “-Ah! Got it!” As she let out a small cry of triumph, Cerise’s arm re-emerged from under the bed, holding a wand that was about ten and a half inches long. Made from ebony and a dragon heartstring, it was hard and brittle, but powerful – perfect for curses and counter-curses. Gripping the wand by its handle, Cerise pointed it towards the fireplace. “Accio timepiece!” Almost immediately, the clock that she was after began to shuffle with no help at all, then it suddenly flew off of the mineral ledge, through the bare room and into her outstretched left hand.

Turning the clock so that she could see its face, Cerise closed her eyes, thin fingers running delicately over the engraved images that were on the opposite side. There’s the first snake- Cerise stopped feeling the lower half of the clock and moved her hand up. And there’s the other one. She then let out a small laugh. “It’s hard to believe that I’ve had this clock for so long without it breaking. Must have been at least seven years. Now I know that I am getting older! Perhaps I should let Severus look after it from now on.” She then grasped the clock around both of its side-handles and sighed. “And yet, it’s the only thing of theirs that I have left.”

The people in question were her parents– whom she tried not to think about. They may have ‘died’ when she was still at Wizarding School; but since she was descended from an old and aristocratic family of wizards, Cerise Corvus had been well provided for, both in her parent’s life and after their death. How else would have I been able to afford a Firebolt? She then paused and looked at the aforementioned broomstick that was propped up against the wall and far-away from the fireplace, remembering one morning when she had innocently opened that day’s edition of the Daily Prophet so long ago, only to have her life torn apart; rumors about her and her family had then started flying, and they weren’t helped by the fact that she was adept in the use of curses and knowledgeable about all nasty, dangerous and rare sorts of dark creatures. Add on the fact that she was also capable in Potions, and it add up to a nasty concoction of insults and reprisals. Fortunately, some of her friends in her house had understood. It had taken her a long time to stitch her life back together again, not to mention a lot of self-assurance. “But that’s a story for another time.”

Cerise’s eyes then blinked to pull herself out of her stupor, and as they flickered open, Cerise saw what was on the front of the clock. Sighing in exasperation, she turned around and let her legs dangle out of the sheets and over the side of the bed. “Oh flaming salamanders! I don’t even have enough time to get properly dressed!” Her worrying had been justified; the Sorting was due to start at six o’ clock, and she had to be in her seat at the high table by five-thirty– teachers had to be in the Great Hall thirty minutes earlier than the first years for the Sorting, just so that they could get things settled down amongst the other years, who would arrive at a quarter to six. It was now, thanks to Severus’ talking and the extensive amounts of butterbeer, eight minutes past five; leaving her with twenty-two minutes to get fully changed and to work her way downstairs from her office that was on the second floor –which was further than it seemed. This calls for drastic action!

Springing out of the bed, she didn’t have to think twice about what to do. As she ran hurriedly across the bare floor, the bedspread that she was holding across her body fell down and dragged itself at her feet. Cerise unceremoniously kicked it out from under her feet and out of her way as she pointed her ebony wand at the fire. “Incendio!” And as the spell lit up the fireplace with tongues of red-hot flame, she scuttled across the room to the box that was nearest the door. Ripping open the cover and peering inside, she ended up pulling out a hairbrush, which had been decorated in bronze and a deep-red hair ribbon, both of which she set to one side before pulling out a pair of small-heeled black shoes, which she placed on the other side of the box. Reaching in again, but just a little bit deeper, Cerise used both of her hands as she pulled out of the box a neatly folded and light under-robe that had been dyed an inky-blue.

Standing up, she slipped the under-robe over her head and it fell down, covering her assemblage of a black bra and matching underwear. I know that I should change properly, but I’m in too much of a rush, Cerise thought guiltily, as she walked to one side and slipped her feet inside of her shoes. Quickly bending over and folding her formidable height, she plucked the hairbrush from the floor. Running it through her hair with her left hand as she rose back up, she thanked the fact that the company had added a charm to it to make it instantly untangle knots and clumps of hair, and to leave it looking silky smooth. Several minutes later, when she realized that she was still clutching her wand in her opposite hand, Cerise turned around and walked over to the fireplace, placing the wand on top of the mantle. Now that she could look closer at the fireplace, she could tell that it was made from some sort of mineral. The supporting buttresses were cylindrical pillars, and supported a plain mineral mantle, which had been polished down to a smooth finish.

Thinking about what to place there once she had time to decorate and unpack, Cerise looked back at the clock that she had left on top of her unmade bed. Philosophizing about the time that she had been late when she was still in school- and it wasn’t a pleasant experience, at last not for her, Cerise hurried back over to the box and looked inside; a black professor’s robe that she had bought in Diagon Alley was staring back at her. She grasped the black hair that fell just behind her neck in her left hand and tied it with the crimson hair ribbon, finishing it off with a double-loop before pulling it into a bow. She then reached down into the box and pulled out the professor’s robe, her tied-back hair falling languidly at the base of her neck. She changed into it, and as she was fastening it, Cerise walked back over to the fireplace to collect her wand, which she slipped inside the robe’s inner pocket. After this, Cerise pulled out from the box its last piece of clothing; a long black cloak from Madam Malkin’s. At least we have one thing in common, apart from our aptitude for complex potions and all manner of curses, she thought. We have the same taste in apparel. She laughed, slipped it on and remarked on the fact that the cloak was actually quite comfortable, not to mention the fact that she felt warmer.

Cerise then sighed and looked back at the clock. “I hope that they don’t think I’m a bad timekeeper,” she said nervously. “But I guess that I should be thankful that Professor Nubei still isn’t here.” She then paused, thinking that what she had just spoken was a horrible thing to say about her former head-of-house. “… Oh forget it; besides, he’s going to have to be there. It’s compulsory for all staff to attend the Sorting.” Cerise then grinned, the fire in the hearth still burning brightly. “Imagine the look on his face if the only spare seat for me is right next to him. He’ll have to talk to me, since there’s no one else, and all those students he’s angered will start to whisper. I guess that we’ve both come a long way.” When Cerise said this, she meant it. “The least I can do in return is to keep an eye on him- just to see if he’s okay. But he won’t like it.” She grinned yet again as she pointed her wand towards the fireplace. Muttering words, Cerise turned around once the fire had magically died out and looked straight ahead and into the wall.

I may look strange, having to get changed without the aid of a mirror, but overall, I’m pleased with the results. Now Cerise, NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!! Now that she was fully changed and had mentally reminded herself about proper timekeeping, Cerise opened a small container that lay at the bottom of the now-empty box and pulled out a small vial filled with pink liquid. Swallowing the potion as she placed the vial next to her lips, Cerise stuffed her wand into one of the pockets of her professor’s robe and ran over to the door that separated her bedroom from her office. Placing the now-empty vial of Head-Clearing Solution onto a side table next to the door, she opened the door, entered her office, thanking the fact that it had also removed the taste of butterbeer from her mouth; and from there she opened the door that led onto the second-floor corridor and shut it behind her before rushing down to the Great Hall.

* * * * *

Once she had arrived in the Great Hall, Cerise noticed that she had arrived with a few minutes to spare, and as she walked over to the high table, she saw that Dumbledore had already arrived and was patiently sitting at the center of the high table, waiting for the Sorting to begin once Minerva McGonagall arrived with the first years and that he was smiling at her from over the top of his half-moon glasses. Walking further on between two of the long tables, Cerise stared up at the ceiling, which had been enchanted to look like the sky outside. Amazing, she thought. I must have seen it constantly during my time here. And now more than ever, I can appreciate its beauty. And as she was thinking while walking between the tables, the candles were illuminating Cerise’s face. Her nose was aquiline, while her skin was smooth and of a pale complexion – evidently, she didn’t set foot outside much. Two yellow-gray eyes were gazing up at the ceiling in wonderment, just as she reached the end of the tables.

As her gaze focused on the high table, Cerise noted that sitting down on either side of him were the other professors who taught the various subjects that Hogwarts had to offer, such as Potions, Charms, Herbology and even Divination – at which Cerise scoffed inwardly. On Dumbledore’s left side was Professor Flitwick, who she remembered teaching her Charms. Cerise noticed that although he was the smallest one of them there, he was quite excited about what was happening, as shown by the small wave that he offered her.

Waving back as she was walking up the steps to the right-hand side of the high table, Professor Corvus noticed that she wasn’t the last to arrive. Of course, McGonagall didn’t count, since she had to sort out the first years, and Hagrid had sailed them across the lake, so he would arrive at about the same time as the rest of the school’s students – five forty-five. A woman then motioned to an empty seat that was next to her, seeing that she was wondering about where to sit. Her eyes were seemingly gazing towards the doors, under a mass of flyaway gray hair. Must be Professor Sprout, Cerise thought, noticing that a figure clad in black was sitting next to her. Severus had arrived before her and had occupied a seat at the end of the table. Momentarily glancing at her with a sour expression on his face, she noticed that he was looking pleased – even though he wasn’t smiling. And I see that you managed to get yourself here on time.

Cerise then tried to think about what to say as she began to feel tongue-tied; one wrong thing, and she’d seem like a fool. This would defiantly be my Boggart’s ideal form, she thought, as she started to introduce herself to the various staff members who were looking between her and the doors while they conversed. “Umm. Hello? I’m Professor Corvus, but I’m guessing that you already knew that?” Snape then nodded, as Professor Sprout’s patched hat wobbled on top of her head. “Of course I do, Cerise,” she announced, as Cerise noticed that the Potions Master was eavesdropping on the conversation, a sour impression on his face as he stared towards the doors at the end of the Great Hall- evidently Severus, Minerva or Dumbledore himself had told them her name beforehand. “Cerise, please take your seat before you truly are late.” She paused, trying to hold back the temptation of elbowing her friend in the ribs in return for his comment. I’ve really put my foot in it. Perhaps I should just keep quiet from now on. She then pulled out the padded wooden chair and sat down amid the Herbology professor and the Potions Master. “Thank you, Professor.” Professor Sprout turned to face Professor Sinistra, as Severus continued his conversation. “Well hello there, Cerise. I see that you didn’t fall pray to the perils of butterbeer?” he enquired, his voice betraying the fact that he knew the answer to his own question, and she illustrated this to him.

The Potions Master’s face suddenly turned cold and spiteful, his black eyes gleaming dangerously even though he seemed pleased with himself. “Let me assure you that if you had been anyone else, I would have done something far worse than offer you a mere bottle of butterbeer – ” Corvus’ laughter interrupted Snape’s line of conversation; it was as if cherry blossoms were floating along on a cold winter’s wind. “ – Make it more like several bottles, Severus. Were you really that jealous if someone else got the job you apparently covet so much?”

Severus’ face grimaced, and he was about to make a cutting reply when all of a sudden the double-doors at the end of the hall were flung open amidst rafters of talking students, as well as the loud and merry voice of Hagrid, the gamekeeper and teacher of Care of Magical Creatures. As the students filed towards their respective tables, Cerise thought that several of them were staring at her. Evidently they think that a new face is interesting, she thought. Oh well, I’d better put up with it for now. Anything new is bound to be of some interest. She turned back to face Severus, but noticed that her friend was no longer talking to her. Oh right, she thought. Excuse number three. Act as if everything is normal. And being honest, she thought that he wanted to give out the impression to both the faculty and students that there wasn’t anything untoward between the two of them, not even a good friendship.

She then turned her attention towards the students. At the Gryffindor table, which was surrounded by floating candles, she could pick out a boy who was possessed of a set of ruffled black hair and green eyes. He was sitting next to a girl with bushy brown hair, who was seated opposite a boy with red hair. This boy she could easily recognize. “Oh great,” she breathed under her breath, as Severus realized whom she was staring at. “What’s the matter this time?” he asked, not turning his head to face her. “Don’t tell me that you don’t want to stand up when Dumbledore introduces you.” Cerise pouted as she saw another two heads of red hair. “You didn’t tell me that there were a whole flock of Weasleys here!” Severus paused before continuing, “Well then, surprise.” Cerise glowered at her friend, “Severus! It isn’t funny!” The Potions master ignored her indignation and looked over at the Gryffindor table, his gaze falling on the black-haired boy; although he disliked the Weasley as much as, if not more, than Cerise herself. She could tell that he hated this boy; hated him with a vengeance. Then she realized who that boy was. “Is that him?” she asked. “Is that Potter?” Severus barely nodded as he continued to stare over at the Gryffindor table.

Looking over at the table, Corvus noticed that Harry and his Weasley friend were returning her and Severus’ inspective gaze. He looks so much like his father, she thought. She immediately shot the two boys a quizzical glare that caused them to turn their attention back to the table, and as Harry and Ron looked away, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor drifted into a dream-like state as she remembered her own parents, recalling what she felt like once she realized that they had died when she was only in her fifth year. Time drifted on as her fingers tapped together in a focusing gesture, recollecting all of her years spent at Hogwarts into a few miniscule minutes. Although Harry had lost his parents much earlier, she knew what he would feel like whenever he would try to remember them- and it wasn’t something you could just brush under the carpet, like she had tried to do. They knew what they were doing. It’s their fault that they died, not mine.

* * * * *

“Professor Corvus? Are you feeling alright?” a voice asked in concern. Professor Sprout was looking at Professor Corvus from her position next to her, her patched hat slightly tilted to one side on top of her gray hair. Cerise let out a sigh; it was then that she noticed that several minutes had passed since she had gone into a trance, and that Professor McGonagall was waiting in front of the table with a pack of nervous-looking first-years, while sitting opposite an even sourer-looking Professor Snape (if such a thing was possible) was the large form of Hagrid. Looking between the three, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor slumped her shoulders. “I was just thinking, that’s all.” Hagrid laughed as McGonagall placed a small wooden stool in front of the first-years, after which, she placed on top of it an old and dirty brown wizard’s hat; the sorting hat had arrived, meaning that the ceremony was about to start. “Don’t worry! Y’ got nothin’ t’ be concerned about when Dumbledore introducers yer’!”

Cerise slumped in her chair as a hushed silence fell over the hall, thanking the fact that since she wasn’t sitting next to Hagrid, he had no chance to slap her hard across the back in a misguided attempt to cheer her up. That wasn’t what I was worrying about, she thought, letting her eyes float over towards the Slytherin table’s cooling green flags as almost everyone’s eyes fell on the sorting hat. She knew what was coming next, and she was proved right when the dusty old hat twitched on its chair. A strange-looking representation of a mouth opened just near its brim, and then the hat began to sing…

“Oh I may not be so clean
And not look all that swanky,
But there’s one thing for certain
I’m not at all that manky!
The famous sorting hat is here
And it’s my job presently to see,
where exactly you’ll be placed
In Hogwarts Wizardry.
Perhaps you’ll be in Gryffindor
The home of the brave and true,
Underneath their flag
Is where I’ll be placing you!
Maybe you’ll be in Hufflepuff
And under the sign of the badger
You’ll be sure to thrive!
But you’ll find yourself in Ravenclaw
If you think you’re clever,
Underneath the claw of the Raven
You’ll be floating like a feather!
Or maybe you’ll be in Slytherin
If you have ambition,
Placed under the green and silver snake
Wily cunning is your tradition!

Almost as soon as the hat had stopped singing, the room burst into a wildfire of applause. Clapping her hands together, Cerise tried to stop herself from laughing, her face a long smile as the hat bowed to each of the four tables and then finally at the head table. Looking next to her, she could tell that Severus was clapping, but that he had a slight smile on his face as he waited for what was to come next. Still, that’s something I suppose, Cerise thought, as McGonagall stepped forward with an open scroll dangling from her right hand and began to read off the student’s names one by one, starting alphabetically. “Aden, Thomas!”

Looking on, Cerise watched as an average-sized boy emerged from the throng of first-years. Walking over to the stool, the boy sat down and waited as McGonagall moved to place the sorting hat over his head. Even before being placed fully on the boy’s head, the hat had already reached a decision. “GRYFFINDOR!” The boy then stood back up amidst applause from the hall, and especially the Gryffindor table. Walking over to where they were seated, Thomas Aden was quickly greeted by his new housemates as Dumbledore watched the events unfold from his chair at the center of the high table.

“Connor, Nathan!” yet again another first-year stepped forwards after taking a breath that was purely for the hope of luck. Noticing that the various Professors and Dumbledore were watching him from their position on the high table, Nathan Connor quickly sat down on the wooden stool and waited for the Sorting Hat to be placed on his head. “Hmm. I see that you have the thirst to prove yourself,” it announced aloud. “This means there’s only one place to put you, and that’s in SLYTHERIN!” Nathan Connor jumped off of the stool and went to join his new housemates at the Slytherin table, and was subjected to a tremendous amount of backslapping. Cerise watched on as a ‘Laurel, Elena,’ was placed in Ravenclaw; while her friend, as he sat next to her, carried on looking with his usual sour expression as a boy called Adam Griffith was placed in Hufflepuff…

* * * * *

… The list went on and on until the first-years had been sorted; the four houses had received roughly the same proportion each of the first years, and after a ‘Zora, Gail’ was made a Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall went to sit beside Dumbledore at the same side of the high table as Cerise, then she picked up a small metal rod, which she used to strike the side of a bronze bell. “Quiet please!” Immediately, a hush fell over the Great Hall, and all eyes turned to Dumbledore as he rose from his chair to address the students. “First of all, I’d like to offer a hand in salutation for all of our new first year students here at Hogwarts. And to all of those who aren’t in the first year, at least not anymore, I would like to say welcome back. I hope that you will all place much effort into your studies.” At this, Cerise noticed that the girl who was sitting next to Harry Potter nodded.

“And while we’re on the subject of welcoming new arrivals-” She then sighed as Dumbledore continued his announcements, but remained calm. Oh great, he’s going to introduce me. Why would it have to be now? However, Dumbledore didn’t notice the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as she squirmed inwardly, “-I would like to extend a welcome to a new teacher who has joined the staff here at Hogwarts. Her name is Professor Corvus-” Here, Dumbledore gestured towards the place where she was sitting, “-and she has kindly agreed to fill in the empty post of Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Dumbledore smiled as everyone’s eyes concentrated on Professor Corvus. Mutterings were mixed with varying amounts of applause between the four tables, who’s occupants seemed to notice that Professor Snape was actually bothering to clap, albeit slowly, and with a dour expression upon his face. But she knew that this was just a show of face.

Looking around at the four different tables, Cerise thought that Dumbledore’s voice always seemed so sprightly, although he was bordering on being one hundred and forty years old. Just please don’t ask me to stand up, she pleaded inwardly, her fingers tightly clenching the portion of her black professors’ robe that was covering her thighs. “And I trust that you will make her feel welcome; after all, it was a hard job persuading her to come here after her retirement.” She breathed out irately. RETIRED?! I am not THAT old! However, her anger was quickly replaced by a sigh of relief when Dumbledore didn’t ask her to stand up; but then, she caught a sparkle in the corner of his eyes, and she reminded to thank him later for not prompting her to stand as she was introduced – at the same time forgetting about the remark that he had made about her retirement. She knew when to let something pass by. The professor then slumped back into her chair, trying to ignore the remaining pairs of eyes that were still staring at her. “And now that we’ve no more matters to discuss, I believe that it is time to eat.”

And as Dumbledore clapped his hands together, food magically appeared on the plates. There was pumpkin pie, iced-buns and even jelly and ice cream for the students and staff members who weren’t worried about their sweet tooth. Mmm… food. She looked at what had just magically appeared on the staff table; there were the aforementioned sweets, but there was also goblets that had been filled with their owners favorite beverage; as well as that, there were two plates of chicken legs and wings, as well as toast, potatoes and mini fancy cakes. Damn. It feels good to be a teacher. A cold voice then echoed from her right-hand side, “I see that you are pleased with what’s on offer today.” The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor picked up her goblet of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky and raised it to her lips. “Severus, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d hazard a guess and say that you weren’t enjoying yourself.” The Potions master scoffed as he tapped the fingers of his right hand on the table, “But you do know better than that, don’t you?” Severus picked up a small chicken wing; and as he placed it on his golden plate, he raised his eyes to temporarily glance at his most-loathed student, Harry Potter. “Perhaps, perhaps,” Cerise nodded sagely, her hair falling forwards as she thought about times past when she had been sitting in the very same room. “So. Here we are again, only now we’re both sitting at this table after all that’s happened. Who’d have thought it?”

For a brief moment, she thought that her friend wasn’t going to dignify her with an answer; but then he did, albeit in the form of a small laugh as he took a sip of whatever substance was in his goblet. “I guess so,” he replied at last, trying to make it look as if they were just engaging in normal conversation; as adults were prone to do when round the dinner table. Just then, she heard a voice echo from behind her. “Well, if it isn’ little Miss Corvus! An’ she’s back at Hogwarts!” The professor’s face tried to remain composed as a heavy-set man waited behind her, his bushy mane of hair and a matching beard easily recognizable. “Hello, Hagrid,” she said simply. “I see that you’re still here.” Hagrid nodded and Snape carried on eating the food that was placed neatly on his plate. “You know me, Cerise,” he replied, looking past the professor and onto the table. Well if that’s all that you’re after, why didn’t you say so? Corvus then laughed. “Hagrid, if you are going to ask me if you could take the chicken wings, legs and plate from over there, then by all means please help yourself.”

Hagrid’s hands took the plate of chicken wings that was lying next to Cerise as he bent over the table; and as he did, Severus took a few more wings before Hagrid disappeared with the golden plate. “Ta’ very much! And I hope that the students don’t give y’ a hard time in yer’ first lesson!” he replied, as he made his way back over to the opposite end of the table. She watched Hagrid as he sat down and began to eat one of the chicken-wings that was on the plate. “What does he mean, ‘give me a hard time’?” She then took another swill of the beverage in her goblet and began to use a knife to slice through a roast potato. Professor Sprout laughed, almost falling off of her chair, while Severus was taking another sip from his goblet, which was silver and had been engraved with snakes. “Are you proud of your house then?” she asked him. The Potions Master gently placed the goblet back down on the table. “Of course I am,” he replied in a teacher’s voice; as if he was answering a stupid question. Seeing that he wasn’t about to talk anymore, Cerise let him be as she carried on eating her meal.

* * * * *

About twenty minutes later, her plate was half-full; Cerise hadn’t been as hungry as some of the students, who were on their third or fourth helpings. I hope that they don’t grow extra folds of skin from all this food, she thought. Otherwise, I’ll be most disappointed in their gluttony. And ten minutes after that, she had finally had enough and decided to resume her conversation with her friend. “So you’re proud, are you? Proud enough to bias yourself as a teacher?” she asked innocently, knowing that Severus wouldn’t rise to the bait; still, it would instigate some conversation. Her friend, as expected, didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m not going to fall for such an old trick,” he replied calmly. “And I know that you’ll be just as auspicious. You forget that I know how much you can’t stand the Weasleys. As soon as he puts one foot wrong in your lesson, it’ll be ten points from Gryffindor.” Cerise snorted into her goblet as she picked it up, “Severus Snape. Are you, of all people, accusing me of preferential treatment?” The Potions Master shook his head, his shoulder-length greasy hair moving ever so slightly. “I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s all just a matter of fact. I was merely stating as I find.”

Cerise was getting tired of their wordplay; ever since they had been students and friends, they had also been competitors in almost all of their subjects. Who could correctly make the best potion? (he could). Who was the best at courses and counter-curses? (they were about equal, although she came out on top in the final exam for Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts- much to Snape’s friendly chagrin). Who was the best Quidditch player out of the two of them? (She was - much to Snape’s annoyance). And who was the best at annoying the group of four Gryffindor students? (That would defiantly have to have been him). It was much to her delight when the feast was over and Dumbledore stood up to deliver his final notice. After the small staff meeting that would follow when the students had all left the hall, she was looking forward to decorating her office and her private quarters. I’ll be dammed if I let it remain like that, she thought. And I have the perfect thing to hang from the wall. Cerise then rubbed her hands together. That should shut him up.

Her thoughts were then interrupted by Dumbledore, as he spoke aloud now that everyone was silent and had finished their meals. “And now I have a few notices to give to you before we all go to bed.” The students looked on as Dumbledore continued, “Firstly, the Forbidden Forest is off-grounds to all students. This means all of you, as some of you – not naming names – should be aware.” Corvus snickered at that, as Severus’ eyes glittered. Obviously, they were remembering the time when Professor McGonagall had caught them there during the Yule Ball in their sixth year at Hogwarts. “And needless to say, the use of magic between the corridors of the classrooms is forbidden. Anyone who breaks this rule will find that they have a detention given to them by their head of house.” Corvus noticed that her friend’s black-obsidian eyes were yet again gleaming; He must hate everybody, she thought humorously. I can still remember the time when I got caught for using that curse on that stupid Hufflepuff girl a couple of years below me. She looked around, feeling just a tiny bit guilty. So what if it was a Scalping Curse? She deserved it.

As she was thinking, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor continued to listen to Dumbledore’s announcements. “Trials for the Quidditch teams will be held during the second week of the term, as will the first-years flying lessons.” As soon as Dumbledore had stopped speaking, she noticed that almost all of the staff’s faces had become fixed smiles; and realizing that she was looking puzzled, Severus decided to fill her in. His message came out in two words of apathy, which were hardly audible, “School song.” Cerise let out an ‘ah’ of realization and prepared herself for what was to come next. If it was still the same as she remembered it, she would have to try to practice lip-sync much more often. Just then, she saw golden letters align themselves into some sort of verse; seemingly, all of the staff members appeared to disagree with Dumbledore’s delight in this little ritual. They conducted themselves with less gusto than Dumbledore, who seemed to be enjoying the occasion as the entire hall bellowed out the school song…

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts
Teach us something, please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest
And learn until our brains all rot.

And like so many years before, everyone finished the song at different times. Several members of staff (including Professors McGonagall, Corvus and Snape) had finished almost as soon as the last syllable had left their lips, waiting for everyone else to finish so that they could finally retire. As the Headmaster was amongst the last to finish, Cerise could swear that Dumbledore was almost crying. Don’t tell me that he actually enjoys this? Now THAT is weird, she thought to herself, as the golden lettering curled back into Dumbledore’s wand, back from where it had emerged. “Ah, I just love to do that year after year-” At this, Severus and Cerise quickly exchanged glances, as did some of the older students and other faculty members. “- But that’s enough of that! It’s time to go to bed, so off you go! And first-years should follow the prefects of their houses, who will explain the rooming details.” Dumbledore then sat back down in his chair and proceeded to converse with Professor McGonagall.

Finally, after what seemed shorter than ten or so minutes, the faculty were left alone in the hall. Ah. A little piece and quiet, thought Professor Corvus, as she reclined back in her chair. “Professor Corvus…” Cerise then smiled, forgetting the fact that someone was calling her name. In fact, I wouldn’t hesitate to say that it was better than I would have expected. I didn’t even blush. Not even once. Yet again, the voice called out, “Cerise.” Corvus lifted her had to one side. “Yes?” Seeing that the other staff members had already left the table and were walking down the Great Hall, she almost jumped out of her seat. “Don’t worry about it Cerise.” Dumbledore said from behind her, a slight tired appearance etched on his face. “Even I was a trifle nervous on my first day.” Cerise pulled back in the chair and stood up, sliding it back underneath the table. “But I bet that you got pretty accustomed to it.” She didn’t know why, but when she was around Dumbledore, Corvus felt as if she could relax; not having to be Ms. Penitent-about-my-family all the time was actually quite a relief for her, “One could say that.”

Dumbledore then turned and walked down the Great Hall, bringing Professor Corvus with him in tow. “So Cerise-,” he began, as they walked between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. “- forgive me for mentioning this, but how do you find yourself holding up nowadays, after what happened to your parents?” Professor Corvus paused; usually, she would have told the person who had asked her that to ‘push off’. Either that, or have made remarks about their parentage. But Dumbledore had done much to help her, just like he had for her friend. Even though the both of them had been the most dubious of characters with a dark past, they had both been helped from fully walking down that dark path, and both were now working at the same school.

“I’m coping,” she finally replied. “And Albus?” Dumbledore looked on sagely; he had that appearance that would lead you into trusting him, which she thought was a stroke of genius. “Yes?” Corvus then bowed her head and smiled like a child. “Thanks for the help back then. And I hope you heard that, because I’m not going to repeat myself.” Dumbledore laughed. “I see that you and Severus still retain your Slytherin pride,” he stated. She nodded in agreement as hr eyes scanned the green and silver that dominated the Slytherin table. “I don’t think that he ever lost it. I believe that most of the students in his lessons would do well to remember that you really should let sleeping snakes lie. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.” Dumbledore paused, then the two carried on walking down the hall. “I guess so. And while we’re still discussing matters, perhaps you’d like to take part in a new event that some of us are devising.”

Intrigued, she was about to ask Dumbledore what he had meant; but was cut off. He had obviously just realized what he had said, “Oops. I really shouldn’t have said that. Just remember that you didn’t hear anything of the sort from me?” He then winked as they walked out of the Great Hall. “Don’t worry, I’ll use a weak memory charm. So what are we going to do once we reach the staff room?” Dumbledore informed her of what they would talk about, “It’s no inquisition, if that’s what you’re worried about. All the Professors, including you, will receive timetables of the school year, after which we can finally retire to our quarters.” Dumbledore and Corvus then paused outside of a wooden door that led into the staff room. “And I know that you will enjoy your time here. So try to do just that, after all, we are only as old as we feel.” As Dumbledore laughed and opened the door to the staff room, Professor Corvus followed him inside, a single and perhaps inappropriate thought flicking about her head as she wondered which class would be her very first. That was a very large meal.

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