A New Tradition
'So let's see. Oh, Eliot and Helweers, in Ravenclaw. They could not be more clearly fancying one another, and yet, none of them has made a move. I was generous - I know, I know, you disapprove - I made them sit next to each other. But Merlin, those boys are shy. No interaction whatsoever until today. I had them work on their speed and do a series of transfiguration spells - naturally, Eliot transfigured Helweers' sit into a pencil by accident. Helweers fell, he hurt his head, and I sent Eliot with him to the hospital wing. From what Poppy told me, it could be the beginning of something...'
'And then, sixth dissertation of the year. One of the fifth-years wrote that "as Voltaire said, the art of citation is that of those who cannot think by themselves, thus I will not be citing anyone in this essay." One of yours, of course. She was so pleased with herself, I couldn't find it in me to be angry.'
'A classic. Nip it in the butt. The worst thing is, he had gotten it right the first time. Then he crossed it. Then he crossed it again. And again. And settled on butt.'
'So I found those first years completely still, beyond quiet. I turned back and asked the prefect what had happened to them, and she confessed she had told them that her cat - it was on the couch - was me, and that I was watching them. They looked terrified. It was grooming itself! It wasn't even brown!'
'Also you were right. Pomona truly believes that she has a chance at winning the Quidditch Cup this year and she's transformed into a true fanatic. Worse than me. Filius is genuinely afraid.'
'And so am I to be honest. She has a whole army of stubborn plants at her command. If I vanish after a heated sports argument, they'll know who did it.'
She put her hand on the tombstone, squeezing it affectionately. It was cold; the marble shone gently under the sun. Fresh flowers were at her feet.
She smiled.
'That's all for today, Severus. I'll see you next Saturday.'