3 Jan 2010
7:08pm

Figaro was rushing up from the Hufflepuff Commonroom and moving at a trot.  The feast would be starting up soon and he wanted a good seat.  As he ascended the stairs, he could hear the noise of the entire school in the Great Hall.  He slowed towards the top of the stairs and was looking down and tying his tie when he came up into the Entrance Hall.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he paused.  There was a presence.  Unlike one he'd felt for a very long time.    It felt like time stood still as he raised his eyes to the figure standing by the entrance to the Staff Room.

And he froze.  Hands paused in a half-windsor at his chest, his weight awkwardly balanced in mid stride.  And his gaze.  Locked.  Locked on a man he thought was gone for good. 

Professor Declan Ó Móráin.

It couldn't be true.  Professor Hagrid was here now.  And life was merry and bright and worth living.  But this...

It was almost time for the start of term feast. Declan already had his classroom ready to go, and had been visiting with professors in the staff room. Just as he said his goodbyes to make sure everything was ready and prepared for the feast and stepped out into the hallway, he caught sight of a particular student.

Declan watched as Sellaphix stopped mid-stride and stared at him. Declan stared right back at the sixth year, mouth in a thin, flat line. He was not amused by Sellaphix's almost constant antics. The boy needed a harsh wake up call. He was the reason it was a shame they'd banned corporal punishment.

"Evening, Sellaphix," he greeted. "Are you quite alright?" Declan asked, quirking a brow at the Hufflepuff. He tugged at the sleeves of his robes and tilted his head dangerously at the boy. "The Staff Room is not a place for students to loiter. I should hate to start off the term by deducting points from Hufflepuff prior to the first class even starting." His tone of voice, however, indicated that he most certainly would not hate it- that he would, in fact, quite enjoy it.

The dark look from the Figaro was perhaps his darkest ever.  Rich with contempt, fear, and an uncomfortable inability to look away from the strange, small wizard who'd made something awesome really bloody horrible. 

When he spoke a chill went up his spine and the hex that had rooted him on the spot lost its power.  He swallowed the lump in his throat and straightened up.  A thousand retorts were bottlenecking to get out of his mouth but he couldn't give O Morain the satisfaction of a reprimand. 

His voice broke on the first word.  "Lov-," he coughed and started again, slightly blushed at the embarrassment of a boyish hiccup at such a crucial moment.  "Lovely to see you, sir.  Back for a visit." 

Right.  Right?  Had to be.  He prayed it was true.  Because it would really harsh his mellow if he was back to teach.

He had forgotten the strange sense of satisfaction that he received from watching students squirm- especially ones like Sellaphix. Though gaining custody of his son had loosened him up considerably, it seemed that his stiffness toward the students was just as rampant as ever. Declan crossed his arms over his chest as Figaro asked whether Declan was back for a visit. Oh ho ho, would Sellaphix just love that? Most of the students probably would. He'd always shown favoritism toward his old house... But it wasn't Declan's fault they were actually competent and that Hufflepuff/Gryffindor were not.

"Actually I will be resuming my previous position as Care of Magical Creatures professor. It seems that the-" Declan paused, and cleared his own throat. No, calling Hagrid the giant likely would not over well. "Mister Hagrid has left Hogwarts." He would not, however, call him professor. "I am not aware of the reason, nor does it matter in the long term. What matters is that you arrive to my classroom on time on Tuesday."

"On the off chance that your previous instructor was lax on the rules and regulations- I should like to remind you that I am not. The doors will be locked at exactly two thirty and if you are not in attendance you shall lose points and it shall negatively affect your grade. Whatever Hagrid's grading policy might have been, now that I have resumed charge of the classroom it has no bearing on my own decisions nor upon your final grades." Chances were the giant had no idea what he was doing anyway. (Though Declan might not be a purist any longer, he had been raised that way and some prejudices would always stick with him.)

Fig felt a bit sick.  Or was that the billywigs stings and sweets from the train? 

But the harsh reality staring back at him through black-rimmed glasses would have been enough to turn his guts over inside him.  He didn't hate O Morain.  But he was a righteous git who enjoyed making life in Creatures a miserable one, especially for Hufflepuffs.  Figaro had always preferred the outdoor class as his rowdy hour and now? It was a-pooped on.

O Morain's smug tone was enough to tell Figaro that things were going to be no different, that he knew as well as Fig did how the world worked.  Barf.  O Morain's warning about points and marks and how things would suck now did not fall upon deaf ears.  Figaro's face remained dark and a frown had blossomed there above his chin.  He bit his lip to hold his tongue.

"Looking forward," he lied in a monotone.  "I have to go."

He didn't jet off just yet though.  He stared a moment more a the man who was going to ruin his Tues's and Thurs's.  And then he slowly crossed the hall to the sound of applause inside the Great Hall.  They were all fools.  Didn't they know what was going to happen?