Into the Eagle's Nest... || House Ravenclaw

Clad in a deep blue frock, emerald-eyed Etain gracefully led her charges up the stairs, toward Ravenclaw Tower. No directions were asked, given, or needed; the ebon-haired woman knew the path by heart. In graceful silence, her steps were purposeful, almost formulaic, and she charted a path through the castle and ascended the steps with in reflection. Memories of conversations, or laughter, of debates, and an argument or two drifted past her thoughts.

It wasn’t all pomp and circumstance. Etain recalled taking the position with a degree of hesitation. She’d been a part of Magical Law Enforcement for two decades; ironically, this felt outside her area of expertise. There was some degree of ambivalence regarding the appointment; in fact, her main reason for even taking it was what had happened before they had all been caught. Had she been here, retribution would have been quick, but then Azkaban was a perfect place for the lot of them. There was no sorrow, not even a hint of pity for the lot of them.

What made it worse was knowing that her children had been here when all this was going on. Gwendolyn had long graduated, followed by Peter, both now married with a budding family. But Aidan, Victoria, Vailintín, and Gwyllim were still here. As a matter of fact, despite the seventh year and two fifth years having drifted conveniently to the back, Gwyllim had been sentenced to Hufflepuff—she recognized the whispering. The Gàidhlig was distinct; strong stresses on the first syllable, guttural and throaty sounds here and there. If she had to make a logical guess, Etain reckoned they were trying to ascertain why she was here and not delivering judgment on some cabal or another.

Reaching the bronze knocker, she stood there in expectation, knowing what would come next…

“What word in the English language has this peculiar property? The first two letters signify a male, the first three letters signify a female, the first four letters signify a great person, and the entire word signifies a great woman.”

Etain quirked a brow, lips pursed. Really?

“Heroine.” She answered and smiled as the door opened into the common room.

It was still as open and airy as she remembered it. While adaptability was a good thing, there was a certain comfort in the familiar. Twin orbs of piercing green glanced to the left and right, while ears listened everywhere for everything. Turning around, she stood before the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, watching everyone file in and take their seats before addressing the student body.

“Good evening, I am Etain Momhár Battersea, and until such time that my… appointment… here has been concluded, I will be the Househead and Transfiguration Professor here at Hogwarts.” Came words with a soft, melodic quality, sharing quality with Ulster Scots, yet Irish with a distinct academic quality. “If needed, my door is always open for the House, which I was a part of in my youth.”

She surveyed the room. “Are there any questions?”

Everleigh followed the small crowd up the stairs towards Ravenclaw Tower. After their new Head of House answered the riddle, a good one to be sure, they all hustled into the common room for a brief house meeting. The blue furniture, huge windows and bookcases of books were a welcome site. She hadn’t realized just hoe much she had missed this.

“Good evening, I am Etain Momhár Battersea, and until such time that my… appointment… here has been concluded, I will be the Househead and Transfiguration Professor here at Hogwarts.” Their new House Head said in greeting. “If needed, my door is always open for the House, which I was a part of in my youth.”

Well that was refreshing. It seemed that so many House Heads hadn’t been in the house they were in charge of. “Are there any questions?”

Well, yeah. She had about 50 circling around in her head at any given time. “Yes, Professor, the Head Mistress mentioned a Spellcasters club and Wandering Wands. What will those be exactly?” She didn’t much care for sports, so having those gone was not an issue for her.

Did she like the old Head. No, he was a pompous ass with secrets that ran a mile deep. Of course, she had read the Daily Prophet when the Ministry came in and cleaned house. Ousting him and many of the Professors. Ever had been nervous that the castle would have to close, but to her delight she was standing in the Ravenclaw Common Room, right back where she belonged.

Today was starting to feel like the longest day of his life.

It had been nonstop since Cassian left his home in Temple Meadows to board the Express at 10 am. He'd reunited with his girlfriend, spent a long train ride moving across the English countryside, sat through a feast that had been a big let-down when compared to what he'd prepped himself for, and now all the boy wanted to do was sleep. In general, he wasn't one for late nights, favouring instead early mornings.

That wouldn't be on the cards, though.

Even if it didn't seem like the professor was trying to have an impromptu meeting the first night back, Cass knew he'd still have patrols. After patrols, he had plans on the roof with Rosie, a tradition they'd started the year she'd started attending Hogwarts. With only one 'return to school' remaining ahead of them, it was starting to look like a tradition they'd graduate with.

The boy just needed a small nap, then he'd be right as rain and ready to carry out the duties he'd returned for. Cassian wasn't a stranger to his prefect badge and the things it required, but it was the first return that had been so...emotionally charged and otherwise draining.

It was safe to say he hadn't stopped from the moment he boarded the train.

Following the others into the common room, Cassian slumped onto one of the available couches, allowing plenty of room for anyone else who also needed to just...melt into the furniture. He didn't know how he'd get up to his dorm--or how he'd get back down later. Right now, the sixth-year wasn't trying to do very much thinking.

“Good evening, I am Etain Momhár Battersea, and until such time that my… appointment.

It was unfortunate to lose his head of house so close to the end of his Hogwarts career. The relationship he'd spent years cultivating and the trust were all burned away in one summer. Now he was left knowing this new character taking the stage, and it filled him with a weariness he knew he would have to shake if he was going to have a decent year.

He didn't have questions, not tonight. Maybe when his brain was functioning again and he'd gotten enough sleep in him.

"Don't suppose you'll be allowing hot chocolate nights up here?" Okay, maybe he did have a question.

Elias sank into the blue couch. His robes stuck to his skin, damp and cold from the boat ride. Everything still felt unreal - the sorting, the disappointing sandwiches at dinner, walking up those moving staircases.

The common room had tall windows and books everywhere. Shelves and shelves of them, more than he'd ever seen in one place. Bronze details gleamed by the fire. The ceiling was high and painted with stars.

He was at Hogwarts now. His robes were blue and bronze.

The professor was talking about being their new head of house. The older students were asking questions but the words kept slipping away from him. Everything felt fuzzy and slow.

That eagle knocker had asked a hard riddle to get in here. Something about a word that meant different things with different letters. He'd barely understood it. Would all the riddles be that difficult?

The fire burned in the hearth. Someone mentioned Spellcasters Society and Wandering Wands. Those sounded better than flying around on broomsticks, at least.

Safer.

A yawn stretched his jaw wide. His eyes watered when it finished.

Hot chocolate sounded really good right now. And his bed, wherever that was.

Somewhere upstairs was his trunk. All his things - books, clothes, the photo of his parents. There would be other boys up there he'd never met before.

Tomorrow there would be magic lessons. Real ones, with wands and spells that actually worked. He'd sit in classrooms where famous wizards had learned. Maybe find the library and all those books.

If he could stay awake long enough to find his bed first.

The fire was warm. Cast shifting light on the walls. The couch was soft, much more comfortable than the hard bench at dinner. His eyes kept trying to close.

"What time is breakfast?" The words came out mushy. He had to try twice to get them right.

Her eyelids weighed as much as lead, and the gentle, musical voice of her Head of House was a soothing lullaby she was fighting against with every ounce of will. She tried to focus, to listen to the refined words about being part of the house as a child, but her head kept nodding. The emerald-eyed woman was recognizable, but Catherine could not remember from where. She blinked once more, a silent, agitated apology, hoping that no one had seen her fight with sleep and that the new professor hadn't somehow seen her. She just wanted to go to bed.

Half-asleep, the new professor, Etain, was a stunning blur of dark blue and a clump of dark hair. Etain's voice, though lovely, was a siren's song to the land of dreams, as opposed to the dynamic of chaos that usually defined Catherine. She was a hurricane on the verge of being lulled into a gentle breeze, something she found disturbing and maddening.

When the new Head of House asked for questions, it was the sole thing that pierced Catherine's befuddled head. Her eyes snapped open, a silent promise to herself not to sleep in public, a promise she was determined to keep. She met the professor's eye, a split-second, panicky realization crossing her that she had everyone's attention. She quickly blinked, which she hoped was a sign of distress for her distraction, a plea to be left alone. She just wanted to go to bed after her long journey to the castle and the feast.

“Yes, Professor, the Head Mistress mentioned a Spellcasters club and Wandering Wands. What will those be exactly?”

“My… understanding… is that the Spellcaster’s Club is a club for students to come together to share and practice spells. At least that’s my understanding. As for Wandering Wands…” Etain pursed her lips. She had read and reread everything just to be sure she knew what she was getting into. However, some stuff wasn’t all too clear-cut. “Wandering Wands is much akin to Scouts or sorts. I think Professor Bourne would be able to tell you better.”

"Don't suppose you'll be allowing hot chocolate nights up here?"

“They were discontinued after I graduated?” She quirked an eyebrow toward Cassian. “Well, that simply will not do. Hot chocolate nights will resume and will continue so long as I’m Househead. You have my word on that.” Etain scratched her chin for a moment. “And… should one have a recipe or three and wish to submit for variety, they’re most certainly welcomed to do so.”

"What time is breakfast?"

“In the morning,” Etain heard a collective groan from the back, with at least one hand covering their face. The emerald-eyed woman cast the briefest of glances toward the trio, one of which was giving her twin brother a wicked glare. “Between five and six, so I’d recommend getting plenty of rest.”

She looked at everyone there for a moment.

“I know this evening has been a little anticlimactic, but in the coming weeks, the hijinks, such as they are, should be largely resolved. If there’s nothing more to be said and you’d like to stay up a little longer, you may do so. Otherwise, a lack of rest robs one of tomorrow’s strength. So, for those that need it, I’d recommend turning in for the evening.”