Divination IC Open Professor's Office

Rumours were circulating around the castle, rumours of a new professor. Well, two actually, but she was focused on the one a the moment. She’d heard about a new Professor of Divination, the subject mostly consisting of tea leaves and crystal balls that were pretty much useless, and the occasional deadly, earth-shattering prophecy.

Renelle hadn’t had the chance to take part in one of these delightful lectures just yet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t wish this new staff member a very warm welcome. In fact, one could say her duty as a prefect. She was very noble that way.

At least, that was her excuse when someone asked her why she was heading to the Divination office. A knock on the door, and she pushed it open, peeking in a bit hesitantly. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She was really bored though. And when Renelle was bored, she tended to do stop thinking before doing rash stuff.

Sitting at the desk was a woman the Ravenclaw presumed to be the infamous Professor of Divination herself. Perhaps in her twenties, the woman possessed dark hair and eyes, along with fair skin. Honestly kind of pretty, she had to admit.

Well, no turning back now. Stepping inside the room and shutting the door behind her, Renelle took a seat as asked. She glanced at the overly purple book the professor seemed to be reading, then looked up and forced a smile that was really more like a grimace. “Nice book. What’s it about?”

Interacting with @Sereia Clairmont

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Sereia's Calming Presence is in effect

Sereia looked at the book. "Oh, this old thing? It's Mastering the Tarot by Eden Gray," she said. The cover was a blinding shade of purple, pink, and red (an awful combination, really). The corners had white paper rips showing from age, all folded in awkward ways depending on how it had been treated. Sereia had found the book in a second-hand store so its condition could've been much worse.

"I've been quickly reviewing the course content and refreshing myself. It's been a while. This book needs a better cover, though," she chuckled.

"Anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you. Professor Clairmont." Sereia nodded her head in greeting. A handshake seemed too formal for the occasion. "What's your name?"

The girl was certainly well-dressed and a shiny badge was attached to her robe. Prefect, it said, and a blue one. Which of the houses was blue, again? Sereia was sure it was Ravenclaw. Sereia was staying in Slytherin, that green house with the snake symbol. With the rush of moving her equipment in, Sereia hadn't the chance to review the school's history. The girl, however, looked quite young for being a prefect.

"Oh, excuse my manners. Did you want something to drink or eat? I've got a few snacks in the drawer, but tea might take a bit. Water, I can do immediately."

Well, at least they both agreed on one thing. The book was seriously old, and whoever had chosen the colour scheme might have just gotten a concussion or something. There was literally no other explanation for those shades getting mixed together.

“Sounds fun.” She lied. Looking around the office more carefully, she observed that it was surprisingly not too badly aged (the same could sadly not be said for the stairs leading here), though so many things were strewn across the desk in what appeared to be no clear organization system that she found it difficult to believe one could find anything in this mess. Very nice. Definitely her kind of place.

Returning the polite nod, “Renelle Dalton. Pleasure to meet you too, professor.” The Ravenclaw hadn’t really interacted much with the previous Divination professor, and was thus brimming with curiosity about what sort of people would choose devote their lives to fortune-telling by tea leaves. And in a school, no less! The second she graduated, the girl was planning to leave this place and never return. She’d only been here six months and was already sick of it!

So what could have possibly driven this young woman to accept the position? She was going to find out. “Erm, water sounds good.” Something about an adult playing waitress to a student felt weird, but downright refusal might be perceived as rude. She sat up a bit straighter. “So professor, if you don’t mind me asking, are you a Seer? It just seems to go with the job, you know?” And being bonkers, but saying that didn’t seem like the best way to make a good first impression.

Interacting with @Sereia Clairmont

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Sereia's Calming Presence is in effect

Renelle Dalton, prefect of Ravenclaw. A pretty name. Sereia got up from her chair and poured some hot water from her bottle. It was one of those silver bottles where you could use the lid for a cup if you lacked it. While its original purpose was for camping trips, her boyfriend insisted she bring it because "you drink so much water. Why would you want to make long trips to the kitchen often?" He was right.

As Sereia twisted the cap closed, she said, "I hope you don't mind that its hot. I don't keep cold water on me unless it went cold during the day. The bottle is insulated really well, though, so it stays hot all day."

She passed her the cup and hummed at the question. Right, the Seer talent. Her father had it; her grandfather had it; her great-grandfather had it. It would be natural to assume she had it as well. Her father raised her with that expectation, too. It wasn't something that people asked her often, likely since she moved away from being involved in the wizarding world and living her life surrounded by Muggles. To them, she was just a young woman living with her boyfriend, previously worked in childcare. She was like every other young woman in England.

"Well," she sighed, "One can say it goes with the job. It's a natural thought process. It's a touchy subject with me, though, and would prefer... not to talk about it."

It reminded her of when she was seventeen, still with brown hair and no visions. It was crazy to think that was already seven years ago. So, why did she take this job if it was really only opening fresh wounds?

"It's nice to be doing something I love, though," Sereia said. Whether she meant the subject or teaching, it would be up to Renelle's discretion. Maybe it was both and she hadn't realised it, yet. Though, working with teens was a significantly different experience than taking care of toddlers.

"You're young, so you probably don't have an idea of what you'll do in the future. So my advice is to try everything now." Sereia shrugged. "Maybe the things you thought you would never like would end up being the thing you most enjoy."

“No problem at all. Hot water’s cool. Er, I mean the other kind.” Taking the cup, she took a small sip, mostly out of politeness. True, Renelle preferred colder beverages most of the time, but she wasn’t in a restaurant.

The professor appeared to be deep in thought, and she kept silent, waiting. She couldn’t say she was a very patient person normally, but she wanted to make a somewhat positive impression. And not get into trouble.

She was sorely disappointed by the information yielded, however. Prefer not to talk about it? That answer was hardly worth the trouble she took to get out of the common room, go down endless flights of stairs, painstakingly navigate the corridors in a noble quest to locate the Divination classroom, then drink that horrible water!

Really, was all that for naught? Now she knew why so many good wizards turned to the dark side. They really had had no choice. “Oh, all right then.” She looked down at her cup of water sadly.

The Ravenclaw perked up again when the professor spoke once more, and was let down rather quickly when she realized it was a whole other topic. Oh, well. Might as well move on and talk a bit more. After all, she kind of doubted she would be able to find this place again anytime soon.

She nodded half-heartedly at the incredibly cliché advice. “Right. Thanks.” One would’ve thought that someone who claimed to be able to tell the future would have more wisdom stored up, but maybe she had been wrong in that regard. Clairmont didn’t seem to be that old herself, so perhaps that had something to do with it.

At any rate, she doubted she had much to gain if she continued to stay here. Setting the cup down on the desk, she stood up. “Oh, look at the time! Really time for me to get going professor, it’s been a pleasure. Er, perfect stuff, you know?” She paused, then added. “Anything I can help you with, totally ask!”

Interacting with @Sereia Clairmont

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Sereia's Calming Presence is in effect

Sereia had a tingling sensation in her bones [Sixth Sense] that Renelle was not at all pleased with her hot water offer, nor was she pleased with a lot of the things she just said. God, was she getting too old already? She was only twenty-four! Then again, maybe she spent too long immersing herself in Chinese culture. The English traditions were quite bland, truly.

Whether or not she admitted to the Seer question, Sereia felt it was not a battle she could win. From stories she heard, those who admitted to being able to See were ridiculed, mocked, and not taken seriously. People would ask them to read their future as if seeing the future hadn't always been such a traumatising burden to shoulder. But if she admitted to not being a Seer, she would not be taken seriously, both because of her name and as a teacher. A Clairmont had always been a Seer until now, so where did she go wrong?

(Having a Muggle mother, one would say. But her father never had blood prejudices, so why should she?)

Sereia looked up at her (non-functioning, might she add) clock and chuckled. "Of course, go do what you need to do. Have a good one!"

THE OFFICE IS NOW OPEN

Archer Theodore Duncan was still shaken by the events of yesterday. One might simply call seeing a visage of the Grim Reaper in his cup of tea nothing more than a catalyst for superstition, but part of his body itched for him to pay a visit to the Divination professor he had never-before-acquainted, Professor Sereia Clairmont, who had only came to Hogwarts in the winter months. He must have seen her before, though now, stood in front of the rickety stairs that lead to the Divination office, he found it troublesome to make out her facial features, especially of someone he might have only seen once or twice around the Great Hall, which, in itself, was full of a myriad of people he could study. Mention of the Great Hall, where the incident of the day prior had occurred, shook Archer back to the present. Gathering his breath, if not in preparation for the meeting then in preparation for the climb. Setting on foot onto the stairs, followed closely by another, Archer’s hesitantly gait quickly turned steady, then even hurried. He paused in front of the door. There was still time to dismiss the tea leaves as a coincidence, as nothing more but a notion that caused nothing but trouble. But as they say, “curiosity killed the cat”. Today though, the young Slytherin was not only curious, he was in distress- visible distress. His hair was dishevelled, unlike its normal clean trim, his tie was somewhat loose, and he certainly had not enjoyed a good night of sleep.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, Archer ratted on the door and braced himself. When no reply came, he took it as signal that there was still time to turn back. The professor would simply dismiss him as a prankster, and even that, might be better than the truth, whatever it was, whoever’s death it involved. Yet still a part of him propelled him to knock once more, more insistently and much harder. When the professor finally called “Come in!” out to him, Archer gently opened the door, trying not to show his distress. He quickly observed the office, as he would any new space. It was in a much better state than that of the stairs, newly decorated since the last professor, with frames on the wall and a clock that was apparently broken. The desk itself was a mess however, with pens strewn across it and even more jammed into cup holders. Notebooks and tarot cards were scattered here and there. Blinking at the mess, Archer did his best to adjust as his eyes landed on the professor, who had just been reading a book, with a cover that was of a far too bright purple, combined with pink and red, which only worsened the colour. She herself had the wavy brown hair he remembered from the times he had seen her, but the brown eyes and rosy cheeks were a new observation. Smiling, she inserted a bookmark into the book and closed it, saying ‘Hello! Take a seat. How can I help you today?’

Sliding into the seat opposite to Professor Clairmont, Archer extended his right hand per usual, ‘Archer Theodore Duncan, first year Slytherin. I don’t believe I have ever had the honour of making your acquaintance, Professor Clairmont, but-’ Archer swallowed uncertainly, ‘-but times now call for such a meeting, despite my wills against it.’ He paused, his honey-brown eyes, specked with gold and the occasional olive connecting with the professor’s, ‘I would hate to ruin a perfect Monday afternoon, but I have some discomforting news.’

@Sereia Clairmont

Note: thank you Pear for the spectacular banner!

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Sereia's Calming Presence is in effect

Ah, Mondays, the bane of everyone's existence. The days were flying by and it was seriously crazy to think Sereia had now spent almost three months at Hogwarts. Her first few days had her thinking teaching was the wrong path but she knew it was perfect. She loved it. Although, someone should've added to the job description that she'd be whipping up impromptu readings for curious students and dealing with dramatic proclamations of death.

(She never minded it. Yes, it would be helpful to get a heads-up before being called to do a reading so she could have some materials on her, but even the small things like tea leaves and rain drops could be used for predicting the future. Sereia was never truly caught off guard.)

Today was a bit different, however. When the boy entered her office, he had this air of uneasiness hanging around him. Archer Duncan was a bit too young to be taking her class, so she wasn't sure what could unnerve him if he didn't know basic divination methods. Discomforting news?

Setting down her book, Sereia cleared her throat and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Archer. Please, take a seat. Did you want anything to drink? I've got hot water if you wanted." Renelle didn't enjoy the hot water but Sereia hadn't many visitors since. Once she had a steady stream of those who wanted cold over hot, she would consider supplying it in her office. "Everything alright? What's got you shaken up?"

Archer shifted uneasily as Professor Clairmont set down her reading material, suddenly regretting his decision to inquire the professor - one he barely knew - on a matter that was quite personal to him, as any death related to him or family should be. She smiled comfortingly, 'Nice to meet you, Archer. Please, take a seat.' The Scottish Slytherin nodded swiftly, delicately sliding out a wooden chair and obliged. 'Did you want anything to drink? I've got hot water if you wanted.' Archer cleared his throat self-consciously at the mention of water, and indeed found it slightly dry. 'I would like a coffee if you have one,' glancing around the room, which had no coffee-making devices in sight (though that might have not meant anything, considering the cluttered the space was), 'If not, hot water would be wonderful, thank you.' Despite the rapidly warming weather, the lad felt a shiver down his back.

'Everything alright? What's got you shaken up?' Archer swallowed and paused before answering. Honestly, the subject made him uncomfortable, despite the reading he had done within the grand realm of death, from classical mythology to philosophical renderings. Now that it felt in the flesh, he could not bear the thought of it, could not bear to speak of it, could not bear to share it. There was a chance it wasn't the Reaper. There was a chance it had not meant anything. There had to be. 'Does it mean death is near if I see the Grim Reaper in my tea leaves?' He asked finally, his voice catching on his words.

@Sereia Clairmont

Thank you for your patience! (Also sorry about the short reply.) And all my gratitude for Pear for this magnificent banner.

Fab new pfp btw.