Monday, around 4 in the afternoon.


True fact: Aileen had been avoiding the Staff Room. She only braved the place when she ran out of tea, wanted to talk to Myrni, or had to attend a staff meeting. No, she hadn't suddenly turned into a hermit. A particular greasy-haired goblin had been making her life miserable, commenting on the ridiculous imaginary romance between herself and Isaac, bad-mouthing her to the other staff, and saying awful things about her supposed promiscuity.

It was as if karma had reared up to bite her in the behind! She'd teased and hexed and insulted Bombay all throughout her years in school, and now he'd turned the tables and was doing the exact same thing to her. The dour little dwarf just couldn't grow up, Aileen thought irritably, making the way through the corridors to the very room she'd been shunning.

Aileen was adept at avoiding her problems. If she faced them, she faced them passive-aggressively. It was no surprise that she had a few ideas about what she could do to get back at Graham and make him regret ever existing, but so far her plans involved using students. Like Sasha. The first-years. Even Neely. She wasn't quite ready to do that yet. She didn't know if she ever would be. It was almost too bad that Ophelia Grimlish had resigned from Hogwarts, because then she could have pit Opie and Bombay against each other and made them both miserable. When Opie's resignation had been announced, Aileen had felt smug and happy, secure that she could handle anything while Ophelia just couldn't cut it.

But it was really too bad that she'd lost her chance to cook up some drama between those two professors. Aileen let out a wistful sigh as she reached the staff room, opening the door with a little burst of dread in the pit of her stomach.

No miserable, malicious midget awaited her! Perhaps he hadn't heard the news, Aileen hoped, walking in and settling in one of the chairs with a cup of fresh tea. She crossed her legs and smirked. This afternoon, the new History of Magic professor was arriving. No one had missed Professor Lumpkin - the students and professors Aileen knew had been downright thrilled when she'd left. Everyone was curious about who this new arrival was. Would this professor last? Bets and rumors were flying, growing wild as the Headmistress kept mum about the details.

Aileen glanced up quickly when the door opened, a tad disappointed when it was a professor she already knew.

Xiomara Hooch was generally scarce around the castle, but this afternoon, she had to wrangle the Quidditch captains in preparation for an upcoming match.  She'd just flown in from her home in Edinburg when she brushed into the staff room, bringing with her a gusty wet breeze from outside.

She was flush from the frigid flight, her robes and hair damp with cloud.  Her cheeks were pink from the wind.

"Afternoon, Aileen," she greeted briskly.  She was in a good mood, so although she had occasion to generally dislike Professor Reid, they had no immediate quarrel.  Aileen, while perhaps personally flawed, kept her class in ship-shape.  And Xiomara, with nearly sixty years of teaching experience, approved of.  Hooch sometimes regretted not knowing her colleagues better, but she was always grateful never to be swept up in any disputes or dramas.

She deposited her broom in the umbrella rack and stripped off her gloves.  As she undid her cold-weather over-robe, she smiled her small, close-lipped smile.

"You look like you're expecting someone," she said, noting  that the Runes professor didn't have any work spread out before her.  Again, only rarely was Madam Hooch required for meetings.  She taught Flying just once a week and only came to the castle otherwise to supervise Quidditch.  So naturally, Xiomara reckoned Aileen wouldn't necessarily have expected her.

It seemed weekends were becoming increasingly more hectic then his weeks, and Isaac found himself heading to the staff room in hopes of a cup of coffee at an hour much later then one should probably ponder having the caffeinated drink.  There was still no sign of Sasha, something he was trying not to dwell on as he had moved through his Monday classes and Morrigan still wasn’t speaking to him and he wasn’t about to go out of his way to talk to her first.  He had also heard that the new History of Magic professor would be arriving sometime soon and he couldn’t help hoping this person would be easier to take then Professor Lumpkin had been.

He had been avoiding the staffroom for some time, since that day Bombay had decided that picking apart Aileen’s failed marriage in front of everyone was suitable conversation.  As usual Isaac had bristled at the other man’s attitude and rushed to Aileen’s defense and now of course the Herbology professor had managed to twist the whole incident into something perverse.  Not that Isaac was entirely surprised given the source, but he could live without the lewd comments.

Pushing open the door to the staffroom he quickly wished he hadn’t been thinking about that whole incident when his eyes fell first on Aileen.  Dealing with Bombay and his comments was at times worse then being stuck in the middle of a group of squealing first years.  Fixing a smile on his face, he did his best not to show the minor embarrassment and awkwardness the younger man had managed to create.  At least they weren’t alone in the room, and he gave a small smile to Madame Hooch as well.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted as he crossed the room, thankful someone had left the French Press in the staff room as he went about looking for fresh coffee grounds.  “Tea or coffee?”

The flush to Xiomara Hooch's cheeks, the damp in her hair, and the chill she seemed to bring in with her made Aileen take another sip of her tea, one eyebrow raised, thankful that she was warm and dry and didn't have to deal with the harsh November elements. Why anyone would choose to, she didn't know. But Madam Hooch (she'd always thought of her as Madam) was an odd one.

Aileen returned her greeting with a polite good afternoon, nodding in surprise when Madam Hooch guessed that she was expecting someone. If she was in the staff room, certainly she knew? There was no other reason for a not-quite-professor to venture in here. She didn't consider a flying instructor to be on the same professional level as herself, and thought the staff room should be for professors only.

When Isaac walked in, their eyes met in an awkward moment, and then Aileen quickly glanced away. He offered the two women beverages. Aileen shook her head with a small smile, lifting her teacup slightly to show that she already had hers.

"The new History of Magic professor is supposed to arrive today," she said conversationally, glancing at both of them, though she was dying to know if Isaac might have an idea of who it was. Pathetic? Perhaps. She just didn't have anything else exciting going on lately - besides her younger sister moving in. And besides the return of that cursed dagger. Yes, besides all that.

Holding her heavy damp over-robe out on one arm and using her wand in her other, Hooch cast a quick freshening charm to flush out the chillies so that it wouldn't hang there damp.  She didn't need it's heavy fabric getting musty. 

"Tea would be lovely, but just a spot, Professor Fraiser, just but a spot.  Won't be in long," she said cheerfully to the dashing young Isaac Frasier.  Madam Hooch had always been sympathetic towards muggles.  Her father had been a muggle, although he'd died in the first world war before she could meet him.

She hung up her cloak now and moved over to the notice board to have a quick check.  She spoke as she perused the bulletins and memos and updated rosters.

"Although I shall have to dawdle a bit if we've got someone new to gawk at.  I hadn't heard we'd lost Professor Lumpkin, but I suppose life goes on."  In Hooch's fifty years at Hogwarts, all professors had come and gone.  She was rarely astonished, only becoming flummoxed with another vetaran who'd managed to weather a decade among the students. 

"A warm welcome on a gelid day like toda-"  Madam Hooch stopped short and furrowed her brow.  She rounded half way to look at the other two.  Something she'd read had cut off her thought and she eyed each Professor in turn.

"Sasha Schlagenwiet and Madeline Pratt have been suspended!? What on earth have they done?"  Both were quidditch players - and lovely students.  There was already a disappointed tone in her voice.  Xiomara Hooch was of the school of education that the school was the best place for the worst students.  No where else were they going to learn to live alongside others peacefully.  Timeouts were useless punishments.

Aileen was vaguely surprised at how out of the loop Madam Hooch seemed to be, though she supposed that if the woman rarely had reason to venture indoors, it made sense.

"Something to do with that student werewolf group, as far as I know," she answered, pursing her lips and setting down her cup of tea. Aileen thought the group was a ridiculous idea and agreed with the Headmistress that werewolves should be kept out of the school. What she didn't like was that Sasha had been suspended. Aileen couldn't imagine he'd ever get involved in something so distasteful, but then again, he did start the muggle club.

The werewolf group was worse, however.

"It'll be a miracle if those two ever get caught up with their schoolwork now. With mid-terms around the corner too," she shook her head, annoyed at the situation. She understood Headmistress Snark's reasoning on this one, but it would create extra work for her to try to get Mr. Schlagenweit up to speed on Runes. He was one of her most promising students and she didn't want to see him fail just because he hadn't been able to attend class.

Perhaps there was an upside to this, though. If her sources were correct and Snark really had suspended the students because of the werewolf group,  maybe Sasha would learn his lesson and focus more on his schoolwork, less on SAWS.

Cillian entered the staff room in his usual unorthodox attire - dark jeans a white t shirt and a powder blue suit jacket. He knew it wasn't exactly what a Professor should be wearing but he never felt comfortable wearing the traditional Professor robes. He didn't think anyone would disapprove though, at least not to his face. Everyone always expected Divination Professors to be weird, eccentric or just plain mad. Cillian was none of the above but if it let him wear what he was comfortable in he didn't mind playing it up a little bit.

He rubbed at his eyes and went straight for the coffee. He had been having horrible visions lately. The werewolves had been one thing but at least he knew what that was all about now. He figured the endless dreams and visions of werewolves had something to do with the polyjuice prank at the Halloween Ball. He didn't want to think that it might have been connected to something else more sinister in the greater wizarding world.

Now though, at least for the past week he had been having disconjointed visions. Always the same flashes of images, A large forbodding looking manor with visible spell protection all around it, an unrecognizable blonde kid, probably in his teens looking terrified and a malicious sinister smile on an old and weathered mouth. He hated when his visions were like this. He had no idea what it meant and he didn't think he wanted to. The easiest implications of his visions were disturbing enough already.

He looked around at his fellow Professor's, "Nice to see you Madame Hooch." He was almost surprised when he found the matron of the pitch was still working at Hogwarts when he returned, almost. Then again given the fact that she was nearing a century old and most of that time had been spent at Hogwarts it wasn't all that surprising. He had often wondered if she would have remembered him.

He gave Isaac and Aileen a nod of greeting as well. He didn't really know either of them all that well. Both had long since graduated Hogwarts before he had been in attendance and as one of the youngest members on the staff he felt a little out of place. He frowned slightly at Aileen, "Did they ever prove SAWS actually did it?"

He had been sitting in the staff room reading the Daily Prophet, listening to the conversation going on. Madeline Pratt and Sasha Schlagenweit were two names that he did not recognize, though he knew that Schlagenweit was on his class roster and had not shown up. That explained it, didn't it? He turned the page lazily, putting the paper down after hearing the mention of the new professor and then the discussion about werewolves.

Declan Ó Móráin wasn't sure why they were having a small get together to welcome this new professor, when he knew that there had been no sort of get together to welcome him. It wasn't as though he was jealous or anything though. No, not Declan Ó Móráin. He never got jealous over something so incredibly petty.

"Werewolf group?" he asked, suddenly taking interest. "The one you mentioned- Schlagenweit- he's on my roster. I guess that explains why he hasn't been to class." Must be a horrid trouble maker to get suspended. Perhaps it was best that he wasn't  coming to class. Kids like that caused the most trouble whenever creatures were involved. The last thing he needed was some kid who was too big for his britches torturing whatever animals he was bringing in to teach them about.

"What did that werewolf group supposedly do?" he asked. "I'm a little out of the loop."

Outfit

If she wasn't convinced doing so would motivate Snark to move the thing, Tulojow would have considered sending the woman a thank you not for keeping the staff room on the ground floor.  All she had to conquer were the handful of stone steps up to the main entrance - which wasn't a small feat, largely owing to the lack of handrails or other hand supports.  Most of the time, there was a student or two around that could be sweet talked or intimidated into offering a hand but there were sometimes when they were scarce.

The ground was icy and the cold from the first breath of winter had already seeped through the various fused and missing chunks of her knee.  She didn't trust her footing and had, for the first time since winter ended last year, opted to use a cane.  Because nothing screamed crippled old lady like hobbling along, clutching the curved handle of a cane.  Even with it, she'd still taken the time to cast a quick warming charm on the steps before attempting to climb them. 

She'd considered asking Dilly for a hand but Tulojow had figured the less she flaunted Hogwarts' newest non-student resident under the Headmistress' nose, the better.  The young lady had settled into life in the Hospital Hut relatively well - of course, it was quite different from life on the street so a bit of an adjustment period was to be expected.  Tulojow had yet to have The Conversation with the Headmistress about fostering the young lady but she figured she'd let it come on its own schedule.  Delia was off doing something somewhere and Tulojow was looking for some company that was slightly taller than three and a half feet. 

It was more of a relief to make it to the interior of the building than Tulojow would have liked to admit.  From there, especially with the aid of the cane, it was a short jaunt down the side halls to the staff room. 

"It's absolute nonsense," she offered those collected there, casting a curious glance around at the various individuals in attendance.  For the most part, most were those that were more likely to be friends than foes in the halls of Snark.  She caught the tail end of the current conversation and shook her head.  "Absolutely nonsense," she repeated without hesitation, finding herself a vacant chair to settle in, glancing towards the new Care of Magical Creatures Professor.  "And, for the record, the boy's not involved in SAWS.  I tricked him into coming and he wanted nothing to do with it.  That woman is just grappling for control in any way she can."  At the expense of others. 

As he continued to go through the process of making coffee, he looked over for a moment when Aileen mentioned the new professor.  He’d heard some rumor of another new staff member but had been so caught up in Sasha’s suspension and a weekend of trying to locate him with Jacoba that he hadn’t given it much thought.  Fixing Madame Hooch a cup of tea he brought it to her before settling at the table with is own coffee.  The conversation had quickly turned to Sasha’s suspension and he went quite for a moment sipping his drink and then was allowed another few moments to sit in silence when Cillian and Declan wandered in.  Opening his mouth he was about to defend Sasha to the new Care of Magical Creatures professor when Tulojow seemed to do it for him.

“Sasha is one of the best students in this school,” he added, hesitating for a moment before doing something slightly uncharacteristic and going out on a bit of a limb.  “She’s been looking for any excuse to be rid of him for sometime, that’s hardly a secret.”

Analiza had been someone he viewed with mild annoyance during his school days and over the months since school had started the slight animosity had only grown.  He knew he had to tread relatively carefully or his job could be on the line, but his own personal involvement was making that increasingly more difficult.   The fact that a weekend of searching for Sasha’s whereabouts had turned up nothing also had him dreading the worst.  He also found himself growing tired of hearsay where this topic was concerned.

Hildegarde had moved everything from her cottage in North Yorkshire to Scotland within around two days; Archer had helped her with the heavier items, but she'd mostly done the packing herself. Arriving at Hogwarts with a brutal click in her heeled step, Hildegarde walked down the corridor towards the staff room. Her walk was subtly domineering - shoulders upright and square, a brisk speed. Everything about her radiated a sense of refined superiority; she was everything one could imagine in an ancient French aristocrat. Wiser than words, but sparing with it. She already knew of many of the staff within Hogwarts, and had met some of them on occasion, but this was new territory. Hildegarde had struck down many a Ministry worker with her boldly respected acid-tongue, but this was a whole new establishment. The generation here probably had heard of her through parents and even grandparents, but she was relatively unknown. However, Hildegarde held some comfort in her ability to make their relatives shudder.

Placing a hand on the door, Hildegarde quietly opened the latch, entering the room with a reserved and calculated smile. Shutting it behind her delicately, she turned to the group of teachers, giving them a nod. Placing both hands together, she gave another vague smile, recognising some of the faces already.
"Good afternoon everybody, I'm Hildegarde Austerlitz, the new History of Magic Professor."

Her voice, although not immediately threatening, was laced with a sharp English accent; not completely monotone but animated by a sense of quiet authority.  It would be unfair to say that Hildegarde had a cruel voice, but there was indeed an icy element. She already recognised Aileen Reid and a handful of others, looking around the room and taking a few steps forward. An introduction was always key to one's initial perception.

Myrni Levartian was running late on this particular day. It was an affliction that had started off small by running a minute or two behind schedule early on in the day, but had quickly managed to snowball into a horrible deficit by late afternoon. And for a woman who lived most of her life by the numbers, she had failed miserably on this particular day.

During her free period, she had foolishly believed that she could Apparate to London to spend an hour with Nathaniel and be back in time to meet up with Aileen in the staff room to help welcome the new History of Magic professor. But not surprisingly, Myrni had lost track of time while in her fiancee's company and would probably stayed longer had she not caught sight of a clock.

Once back on school grounds, she rushed to the Arithmancy classroom to drop off her coat and extra items she had been carrying before heading back down to the staff room.

"Blast!!" she exclaimed under her breath and she rushed down the stairs, almost methodically taking two and three of them at at time (in alternating succession). Descending to the ground floor, Myrni practically sprinted down the hall until she reached the familiar door to the staff room. It may not have been an ideal place for many of her fellow professors to convene in her time at the school, but she never minded it, especially when others were there to keep her company. Even the less-than-pleasant professors like Bombay were at least interesting and perfect subjects for observation. Perhaps this new professor would pique her interest as well.

Myrni flung open the door and rushed inside, without much thought to what might be in her way on the other side. She had taken no more than a few steps when she was promptly met with an obstacle--something that seemed to stop her forward movement so abruptly much like a brick wall but also caused her to bounce backwards, nearly causing her to trip over her own feet.

Luckily though, Myrni maintained her balance and righted herself, though the look of pure mortification on her paled face made it clear to anyone that she would have rather been bounced right back out the door through which she came.

"Oh......my...." she managed to finally say, feeling like she was falling into a vortex of silence. Her eyes immediately flew to the face of her unsuspecting victim, who she gathered from the process of elimination (since all the other eyes in the room belonged to individuals she had at least met in her short tenure at the school) was sure to be the new professor! "Sooo sorry....oh my," she repeated. Finally, she added in a helplessly small voice, "Please forgive me!"

It was silly, unnecessary, and personally an affront to his reputation as a researcher.  Of course Graham had nothing better to do than greet every single teacher who flew in and out of Hogwarts' doors.  He'd give this one two years, tops. It wouldn't be long before Graham would be the only one left.  Of course, then he'd lock all the students inside, save maybe a select few, and set them on fire.  See how they liked flames, then.


The thought brought a brief smile to his face, one he was sure to vanish when he opened the staffroom door to see Myrni Levartian's bum.  The woman was off-balance, righting herself, and Graham was forced to severely restrain his thought to tip her just over the edge.  As the woman took her seat, a still recovering from her mortification, Graham merely raised an eyebrow as he walked toward the new professor.  She seemed curt, icy and well-versed in the art of giving detentions.  Graham liked her.


"Graham Bombay," he spoke crisply, extending his hand, "Professor of Herbology."  He sized her up, glad for once that he could make level eye contact with one of his colleagues. Of course she was one of Snark's hires.  As Reid had proved, that didn't always mean the best of things.  But it was nice to see a face that Graham didn't have a history with.  Fresh start.  Maybe this one would stay.  He hesitated, almost adding a welcome.  But to act civil, in front of Reid? Never.  He gave a gruff nod in acknowledgement before settling against the wall, arms crossed in front of chest. 


He had done his part--now to stay the expected few minutes, then leave. As much as he loved to bait Reid andFrasier, he wasn't going to give a poor impression of himself to the new professor.  Besides, Nagde and Hooch were present.  Despite all, he liked them.  They had a way of diffusing the petty jealousies usually rampant within the staff room. 

It was clear most classes had just now concluded for the day and that Xiomara had arrived at the crux between work and play because all the professors had convened into the staff room apparently all at once.  If this welcome for the new professor(s?) was planned or coincidental, either out of professional respect or out of morbid rubber-necking, it was nearly unaninmous! 

Xiomara gave friendly looks to those colleagues who offered eye contact.  But this thing about Madeline and Sasha was distrubing, especially when Isaac and Madam Tulojow confirmed her own suspicion - politics.

Then, after only a short wait, the new professor appeared.  Xiomara cocked her head, momentarily startled to see another older witch sporting her short, white hairdo.  But the other witch was perhaps a generation younger, shorter and definitely more indoorsy.  And then the name rang its own bell.  "Austerlitz," she repeated.  She'd written books and Hooch had heard of them. 

Tabling the topic of Sasha, SAWS and Pratt, Madam Hooch spoke up, over the ruckus of poor Professor Levartian bumbling in. 

"I'm Hooch and I'm the Flying instructor.  Might not see me often, but that's normal for me."

She moved away from the bulletin board and walked slowly.  Oh goodness.   Bombay! He was a little stinkweed, but she forgave him for it.  He held a terrible secret that deep down he was a good man who liked his job.  She'd take his secret for the grave.  She squeezed his elbow as she walked past him.

But then - she re-noticed the be-spectacled new wizard.

"Wait! I've found a new one!"  She bent over a little and peered at him with her gold hawk's eyes.

"Who are you, sir?" 

Cillian peered over his mug of coffee at the other Professors. He wondered if he would ever feel right around them. He was already skeptical about whether or not he was going to cut it as a Professor (Thankfully though, despite Knight's speech in his first class he had actually been fairly alright so far) but he doubted he'd ever fit in with the lot. It had a lot to do with the fact that he was younger than everyone on staff by almost ten years (granted he had no idea how old Declan was)

He thought about the discussion regarding the suspended students. He had been fortunate enough to have taught Sasha before the suspension but he wasn't even acquainted with Miss Pratt. He doubted that either of them really deserved the suspension. The whole situation made him miss Dumbledore, no one was ever suspended under Dumbeldore's watch and even when the school had been run by Madame Umbridge for a year still no one was suspended and she had done everything she could to make people's lives miserable. He didn't personally have anything against Snark, she had been the one to tracked him down and finally convince him to become the new Divination Professor. At the time though he wasn't exactly aware of how strict she could be.

"Is she really allowed ta suspend a student jus because she doesn' like 'em?" He glanced up at Tulojow, Madame Hooch and Isaac who were defending the unfortunate students, "I've only bin able ta teach Sasha in a handful o' classes so far an' he definitely doesn't seem like anythin' but a hard working bloke but surely she had ta have somethin' over their heads ta be able ta jus' oust them from school, no?"

He nodded to the wizened old woman as she stepped in. It made him wonder if there was a single History of Magic teacher out there wasn't in their sixties or older, not to mention it made him wildly curious as to how they managed to convince Professor Binns to finally leave his post considering even his own death hadn't stopped him from teaching.

"Me name's Cillian Cuthbert, I teach Divination. I've only bin here fer about two weeks though." Cillian offered his own introduction to mix in with the other Professor's. He pulled a face when Madame Hooch made a big spectacle about Declan being new as well. The other short statured Professor had arrived only a week after Cillian did. Perhaps he was just as invisible at Hogwarts as an adult as he had been as a child.