the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 7: Lost Causes

Hey hung up old Mr. Normal,
Don't try to gain my trust;
'Cause you ain't gonna follow me any of those ways,
Although you think you must;
We're not gonna take it...

- "We're Not Gonna Take It" The Who, 1969

The secretary who'd been sent to fetch him led Remus across the grounds between the buildings, her stumpy heels slipping across the cobblestones until they'd made it to what had to be the oldest, finest building on the entire campus.

"This is Castle Hall," she said, indicating the great round drive that went right past the building's front steps and connected down to the road below. It was probably the place where the driver who'd picked him up from the train station should've dropped him off.

"The Great Hall is just behind," she added. "You'll be having all your examinations there."

Walking up Castle Hall's front steps, she held the door for Remus. Inside the floors were made of stone like an actual castle, with walls of deep wood decorated with black and white photos presumably of the campus buildings in their prime.

"The Headmistress' office is up on the third floor," the secretary said, "now you go on."

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply nodded his head, turning to the grand staircase just ahead of him. The second and third floors of Castle Hall were much like the rest, vast hallways filled with decorative furniture that looked so delicate they'd likely disintegrate if anyone so much as sat down in one of the chairs. No one was around, it being the middle of the first day of lessons, but once he'd made it to the third floor Remus was able to see out across the front berm where students were mtrickling out of their respective school buildings, each heading to their next lesson of the day.

Luckily, the hall was easier to navigate than the rest of Hawkings, and he found the Headmistress' office easily, thanks to the decorative plaque that read; Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, O.M. First Class. The front of the door was carved in the image of a golden lion paused mid-roar with a single decorative knocker inset above the lion's head. Remus gripped the knocker and banged it hard.

"Come in," a voice called, and he turned the door handle, walking inside. He stepped into a vast sitting area with vaulted ceilings and rich burgundy wallpaper. A fire was burning in the fireplace grate, making him instantly too warm, and the room was made up with a velvet sofa and a few scattered arm chairs all decorated with the rich maroon patterning of Hawkings' colours. Luxurious paintings hung on every wall and a statue of a grey tabby cat sat on the fireplace's mantle, staring at him with yellow eyes like a watchful guardian.

Beyond the sitting area was an office filled up by a great oak desk and walls lined with books and various other items that looked like they were either very old or very rare, and in the middle of the office, sitting behind the large desk, was a stern-looking woman with a mouth drawn as thin as a pin. She had black hair streaked with grey, tied up into a severe bun on the top of her head, and wore a set of green robes that made her look more like a wizard than a teacher.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, looking up from the neat pile of papers she had in front of her, "please, come sit."

Remus had never liked being called 'Mr. Lupin', it was a title reserved for his father or scoldings, but since he suspected the incoming conversation to involve both, he approached the Headmistress' desk and sat down in one of the cushioned chairs across from her, school-bag across his lap.

Headmistress McGonagall set down the paper she had been reading, face-down, and sat back in her chair with her arms across her lap. "Hello Remus," she started, "I am Headmistress McGonagall. Firstly, I would like to welcome you to Hawkings School."