Homemade Ghosts | s. snape

1.5

| 1.5 |

I arrived at the all-staff meeting the next morning after having done some Glamor Charms to hide the fact I was severely hungover.

It had taken me some time to get my wits about me the next morning. Waking up in a foreign bed with a pounding headache and slightly hazy memories as to how I had gotten there had put me into a bit of a weird mood.

As I sat stiffly next to a particularly chatty Flitwick, I made a note to myself to grab a tonic from Pomfrey. She would have to carry something like that, right? Charity, Aurora, and I couldn't have possibly been the first staff members to get blitzed in Hogsmeade.

It was good that I had made it on time to the meeting. I had missed breakfast.

Charity and Aurora were sitting near me, too. Charity mumbled something about trying not to vomit, although Aurora looked just as well-put together as she had when she knocked on my door last night.

The room felt much more crowded than it had the previous day, made even worse by the pungent onion smell Aurora had whispered to me was coming from Quirrell's turban. It wasn't really doing much to remedy my queasiness.

Dumbledore hadn't yet arrived when McGonagall began the meeting. She went over the school's professional guidelines regarding discipline and House points, rules we had to enforce for the students, procedures for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, etc. By the time she'd finished with her announcements shortly after Dumbledore had entered the room, I was dead bored.

McGonagall sat down and Dumbledore went to stand in front of the group. He smiled around at us.

"Welcome—" He said this as he smiled directly at me and then at Quirrell. "—and welcome back. We have two additions to our list of professors this year. Quirinus Quirrell, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He graduated Hogwarts in nineteen eighty-six and has recently returned from a grand tour gaining firsthand experience in the Dark Arts."

The staff applauded a pale-faced Quirrell. He barely smiled and, instead, stared bashfully down at his hands.

There were so many people in the room that I hadn't noticed until then that Snape was sitting in the corner, partially obscured by the enormous frame of the gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. He, Snape, was giving a half-assed golf clap and looked very unhappy.

Aurora noticed me looking at him. She looked like she was about to say something, but Dumbledore was also looking at me now.

"And, of course, our new Ancient Runes professor, Hazel Eliot. She graduated from Ilvermorny in nineteen eighty-two and has spent her time since doing significant research into runic artifacts for a firm located in New York City."

There was the same reaction from the crowd for this, although McGonagall smiled a little more than she had with Quirrell. Snape, however, had apparently reserved his most unenthusiastic golf clap for me, and he was looking at me with unconcealed disapproval.

I felt so special.

Dumbledore embarked on a spiel about how we oversaw educating young minds, and that he wanted us to strive for excellence. It was boring, but blessedly short.

And then he paused, allowing a heavier atmosphere to settled over the group.

"This year, the third-floor corridor on the righthand side is strictly out of bounds—to non-authorized staff, but especially to students. I implore you to alert me immediately if you witness any students or otherwise suspicious activity near this corridor."