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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm skipping every-other-step down the stairs on my way to the Great Hall for dinner hour. Imelda is finally back from a few days out training with Puddlemere United, and I'm so looking forward to catching up with her that I forgot to grab my robe on my way out the door. Classic April move especially considering how the rest of this week has been – an absolute whirlwind. Oh well.
During other meal times this week I've genuinely enjoyed discussing teaching techniques with Professor Ronan. His classes were always my favorite and I've found his advice to be incredibly useful. I have not so much enjoyed the steely-or-maybe-just-concerned eye contact from Sharp I've endured during breakfasts and dinners. But I've definitely been relieved that Sebastian simply...hasn't attended any meals.
I burst through the Great Hall doors eager to enjoy Imelda's fast pace and wit, and thankfully only a few eyes seem to notice since dinner is already under way. As I pass the tables of students I overhear some of their chatter.
"Headmaster Weasley is so much more fair than Headmaster Black," says a curly-haired Hufflepuff third year. "She only gave me an hour's detention for setting off Dungbombs in the girls' West Tower lavatory! Last year, black gave me a full week."
I roll my eyes. Was I that benign at thirteen?
I recognize a proud Ravenclaw with long, straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Anneli Roka. She's in my sixth year Transfiguration class, eager to cover human transfiguration this year. I hear her say, "Professor Reyes told me I have a real shot at Quidditch Captain," and I stifle a laugh. Either she's an excellent flier or she's lying through her teeth, I think to myself. And I'm banking on the latter. Imelda is notoriously extra hard on fellow females.
Speaking of, I catch Imelda's eye and wave as I overhear a particularly distasteful first year Slytherin mocking, "...and then he said 'mastery in defense against the dark arts is a mastery of oneself,' whatever that means. Think I'd prefer old Professor Hecat to this Sallow lunatic."
Sliding into my chair next to Imelda, I lean over to hear and say under my breath, "What a little asshole, that one," nodding my head in the Slytherin first year's direction.
"Ugh, that Will Guppy? Couldn't agree more," Imelda says, giving me a quick squeeze on the shoulder.
"Welcome back! How's things at PU?" I ask, ravenously digging into the plate of hot food before me. I seem to be forgetting about lunch these days, so I have a hefty appetite. It's only after a couple very unflattering bites that I realize, for the first time this week, Sebastian is here and he's looking at me from where he's sitting, almost precisely across from me in the slight U-shape of tables on the faculty landing at the front of the hall. Great.
Suddenly much less hungry, I chew a bit more delicately and try to ignore his eyes.
"Um literally nothing has changed with the team," she says quickly. "Tell me about YOU! How was your first week"
