Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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Faster than a flash and yet as graceful as a breath in the wind, the one and only Imelda Reyes descends on her broom in front of us.
Like a reflex I light up at the sight of my long-time friend. "Could it be?! Do my eyes deceive me?! Is that Puddlemere United's own Star Chaser, the Imelda Reyes?!"
I cup my mouth with my hands and attempt to make a sound like a raging crowd.
"She's got the quaffle!" Crowd sounds. "She shoots!" Crowd sounds. "AND SHE SCORES!'
Imedla's pride shines even through her eye roll. "I thought it was you I spotted from the pitch!" she hops from her broom and hugs me tightly.
Professor Weasley interjects, "I'll let you ladies catch up. I best return to Professor Black – he's needed much help preparing for this transition, as I'm sure you can imagine."
Before she leaves, she turns towards me and assures my jumping nerves, "You can relocate here any day that's convenient for you before start of term. I've asked Deek to attend to you, should you need anything. Send for me if you have questions. Welcome home, April dear."
With a comforting squeeze of my arm, she apparates into thin air and is gone.
Imelda squeals with joy. "Can you believe this? I guess my cynical arse could learn a thing from your perma-positivity, nauseating as it may be."
"What do you mean?"
She gestures all around us, and looks at me like I'm stupid. (I'm not unused to this expression).
"Me. You. Hogwarts. Professors."
Of course. "I guess the reality of it hasn't really sunk in for me yet."
"It will. It's real! And who'd have guessed we'd come on so soon in our careers. Professor Weasley told me she deliberately wants to add some 'younger blood' to the faculty. Said our graduating class was a particular stand out to that end, which...obviously." She makes a sweeping gesture as though presenting herself to the world.
"Of course," I say, overly respectfully, playing into her grandeur. I've gotten used to the fact that validation is her primarily love language.
She relents, "I mean..I guess there's you, too. You're not UNremarkable."
"Thanks a lot," I say flatly. I know she's kidding. However, I've yet to test my theory that it causes her actual physical pain to give real compliments.
"Anyway, she thinks we'll relate to the students better or some drivel like that. I'm just glad I'm still in my prime – these kids won't be able to keep up with me. No better way to learn."
Imelda is beaming. I can see the pride through her eyes, and the hope she has for the potential in her new position. "I'm really happy for you, Imelda. This is a perfect fit for you. Wait – aren't you still playing competitively?"
"Thanks, Gryffindor. And yeah! They're willing to let me try to do both. Said it's a 'trial period'," she gestures air quotes sarcastically with her fingers, "but they'll see it won't be a problem. They don't know who they're dealing with."
"They sure don't!" I'm beaming, so happy for her happiness. I've always been delighted by Imelda, who has and always will be one-hundred-percent, unapologetically Imelda. Her sarcasm and confidence have only ever endeared me to her (once I figured out what makes her tick, of course).
Her energy shifts with a surprising level of sincerity I've rarely seen from Imelda over the years.
"And congratulations to you, Gryff–" she stops herself. "--April." Her mouth seems almost as awkward saying my actual name as my ears feel hearing it from her. "Your students are in for a treat. I've never seen anyone use transfiguration as beautifully as you plus...all your extra...woo woo."
I laugh at the silly gesture she makes at the end of her thought and I'm glad we didn't have to sit in too much sincerity together. I've had enough change for one day.
I ask, "was that supposed to be some kind of ancient magic thing?"
"Well duh! How am I supposed to know how it actually works?" She laughs with me and my heart feels at ease. I'm glad to know I'll have my friend here if I need one because I have a very strong feeling I'll need one. After a moment of quiet between us, as if we are both waiting for the gravity of our future here to drop out from under us, she mounts her broom once more.
"I better get back to the pitch. No time for improvement like the present! See you around, yeah?"
"Of course," I say with a half-smile, my nervousness undisguised.
"Relax, Gryffindor. You were made for this. Everything is going to be great."
"Oooh, look who's whipping out the nauseating positivity now!" I jest.
"Don't get used to it."
She winks as she kicks off into the air towards the quidditch pitch and is gone. I truly am so pleased for her. Given her near-celebrity status as Slytherin's quidditch captain in years six and seven, and her unprecedented walk-on offer as Puddlemere United's youngest chaser after graduation, she's sure to build a legacy quidditch program here.
I feel a tug on my jacket, "Is there anything Deek can do to help Miss April?" I am ashamed to say I almost forgot he was there!
"Oh, Deek. I wouldn't know where to begin."
We sit in a moment of quiet, my mind racing as Deek eagerly attends my side, as supportive as ever. Comfortingly, he offers, "Deek feels Hogwarts will be in good hands. Professor Weasley is so very good to Deek."
"That's true." I can hardly focus as I consider the impending time frame and the implications of everything I learned in the last few minutes. As a niggling sense of panic begins to rise inside me, I am relieved as my pragmatism kicks in like clockwork. It has never failed me in an emergency, and for that I am grateful.
I am great in a crisis, at least there's that.
"Alright. So. Thinking out loud, here....a week is hardly any time at all. I'll visit the Ministry tomorrow, collect my things. I'll utilize the week's end for class preparation." I do some quick calculations of days and dates in my mind and my stomach sinks.
"Ugh the centaur colony's New Moon ritual could conflict with the first day of term, maybe even the sorting ceremony." I brush it off almost as fast as it dawned on me. "It's fine, I can do both."
I'll have to do both, somehow. But that's next-week-April's problem.
Addressing my helper directly, I confirm, "Deek, I think I will very much need your help. Call on me Wednesday, will you? Evening. I'll prepare some of my things. I'd like to see my room, tend to the vivariums. Gosh it's been so long, and–"
As I tie up the loose end of my thoughts a small spark of genuine curiosity lights in my mind.
"Oh, Deek? Professor Weasley mentioned Professor Sharp made a recommendation for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor but she distracted herself before she told me who it was. Do you know?"
"Oh yes! Deek overheard Professor Sharp make his case to her. It was most convincing, though Deek don't know if the offer has been officially extended. Deeks memory is he's an old friend of yours, Miss April. Mister...
My heart all but aparates from my chest as Deek says what I can already feel to be true in my bones.
