𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥

Dominate yourself

The weekend had been uneventful, as the year had just started, and the students had used those days to settle in the School and to socialize - as far as possible from the teachers, including Blanche. She didn't mind; actually, she was quite glad of having them out of her way for a while after Friday evening's events.

Blanche woke up on Monday morning in a ridiculously bad mood: her first meeting with the students had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Being an adult, she knew that being a target for their jokes was just part of the job; however, Morton's comment had thrown her off nonetheless, and Blanche was aware of the fact that from now on, she'd have to face her - and a multitude of students just like her - every day. Yay.

She needed to be respected, to do her job well. To have her authority undermined so fast had caught her off guard, and that meant she'd have to remedy, somehow. Maybe the severe route really was the way to go; she had reflected and decided that she'd give it a try.

She glanced at her clock, realizing that she had slept through the alarms as she did more often than needed. It was 7:30 am, and since the lessons started precisely at 8 am, she didn't now have enough time to have breakfast.

Damn it.

She got out of bed with a quick hop and got ready, trying to get back a fraction of the motivation that had motivated her until Friday. Collecting her thoughts, she brushed her hair and tied it in her usual braid; that habit always comforted her, for some reason.

During the first period, she'd see the first-year students; she hoped that they'd give her at least a few funny anecdotes to tell at the teacher's table if not some satisfaction. Even when she was a student, the beginners' antics entertained her to no end; as a teacher, they'd probably be even funnier - or at least she hoped so. After all, the clean-up would now be her responsibility. She didn't envy the 1998 staff one bit.

As soon as she was ready for the day, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Gender-bent Snape? No way.

Morton's words were still bothering her. They had struck a nerve. However, she couldn't let the words of a random little girl mess with her or ruin her day, so she brushed them off.

Thinking of Snape so early in the morning gave her a much-needed reality check: he was a total waste of her energy. The way he had effortlessly managed to sneak into her thoughts - literally - was baffling, as well as the negative feelings she had been harboring. The man was unpleasant, cold, and petty, that was it, and Merlin knew how many men like him she had met along the way; she couldn't wrap her head around what irked her so much about him specifically.

After collecting her books and notes, she quickly left her room and headed down the stairs, greeting the portraits on her way. "Good morning, good morning!"

"Mornin' Miss! About time," one of them yelled back. It was one of a fine, robust woman that Blanche had already admired a couple of times: she always winked at her but never said a thing.

That's new.

Hogwarts never ceased to amaze her: it wasn't a boring place for sure, and its familiar corridors recalled the memories of many calm, peaceful years. However, the thing that Blanche needed the most was a serene routine to give her a normal set of habits; possibly a place to call home, or at least a stable residence.

When she arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a few students were already there; they were still shy and awkward, probably yet to get used to Hogwarts' ambiance. She walked down one of the aisles between the three rows of solid wooden desks, briefly admiring the peaceful morning light illuminating the great windows and the walls' arches reaching the high ceiling. The floorboards creaked under her steps as she placed her material on the teacher's desk, standing in front of it to face the students in silence.