SHINING, SHIMMERING, SPLENDID | BLAISE

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RATHER BE THE HUNTER
THAN THE PREY

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DECEMBER 28, 2024

December had already descended upon Hogwarts and the neighboring Hogsmeade, and already Florence was taken aback by its beauty. Each year that she spent teaching at Hogwarts, it was like seeing it for the first time after having been there for some years now. She remembered being new to her teaching position and had expected to see the same thing that postcards showed, but she was not ready for what she did see. It was better than her own school’s winter wonderland, and each year she took it in with the same awed eyes. Hogsmeade was the same way; the Christmas carols heard the moment the group of students arrived at the place. Florence was one of the teachers that had offered to accompany the students over to the location, needing to do a little Christmas shopping anyways. Sure, other professors had come over as well, either for helping out or just for their enjoyment.

Florence found herself wandering the familiar Hogsmeade, her warm jacket tightly tied around her upper body, her snow boots crushing the snow beneath her feet. Of course, a few flurries were falling around her, but not enough that it bothered her, her bright short red hair littered with white flakes that slowly melted. Florence walked until she noticed the familiar face of another professor, the DADA professor that is. She plastered on a smile, “Hello Professor Zabini, enjoying Hogsmeade?” she questioned in a sweet tone, her French accent still thick after the years that she had been in London.

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[blaise leo zabini]

florence violet fortescue

12.XX.2024

Blaise felt old. Physically he was in the best shape he had been in years, mostly thanks to coming hot off a new round at the Hit Department. Mentally he was still sharp, and if anything, the students only challenged that by making him think of things he didn’t believe were possible Dogs eating homework had absolutely zero culpability whilst at Hogwarts yet the excuse was still used. That one had given him an immediate headache and the student a detention with a professor other than himself. What made him feel like he was getting up there in years came down to two completely separate realizations over the last few months: the first being that in one more school term, both of his children will have graduated. The second was that the vast majority of his colleagues at Hogwarts were under the age of thirty. The only way that could have possibly been worse was if the school was hiring recent graduates to reach. At least these ones had some semblance of a career outside of education to use as work experience. None of them were remotely close to what he had accrued at the Ministry though. They had degrees and books, he had criminals that he had put six feet under and ones whose minds he had snapped. Those weren’t things to brag about, but it was hard not to make the comparison.

His individual conversations with the other professors showed that they didn’t really know what was outside of the castle walls. They understood it was dangerous, hell some had witnessed children get murdered. But they didn’t know what they were really dealing with, and that bothered him greatly. Maybe it was his tired, cynical soul finally catching up to him. The years of abuse and violence piling up, only to spill over now that he had a cushy teaching gig. That was why he felt old compared to the rest of them.

That and Hogsmeade did a number on him. Blaise had mostly ignored the magical community after graduating and long into his adult life, simply because he didn’t like the memories it brought back. While he aged and grew, the town had stayed the same. That was to be expected of Hogwarts – the castle probably hadn’t been modified in centuries. Hogsmeade was virtually the same as he had left it when he was eighteen years old and graduating from school in 1998. It was depressing.

Yet he still found himself wandering through the town on the Hogsmeade weekends, occasionally meeting up with old coworkers to get the latest news on the Obliviator squads and how the Hit teams were managing. Nothing had really changed in the last few months though, and that was starting to make him uneasy. Some would call that the calm before the storm. A letter to the Minister was probably needed. Granger knew better than leaving him in the dark when he was the closest thing Hogwarts had to a security guard.

His train of thought, and stroll down the street, was interrupted by his name being called out. “Could be warmer,” he responded gruffly. The weather didn’t bother him as much as he was making it out to be. Practically growing up at the school had made sure that he was always properly equipped to the Scottish climate. “I’m sure you enjoy it much more than I ever will again, Professor Thorpe,” Blaise continued, referring to the fact that she hadn’t been a Hogwarts student. “Ready for the term to be over? Keeping the students still has been getting to me for the last few weeks…” It was like dealing with hundreds of toddlers realizing that they could leave their mother’s side for the first time in their lives. The constant drone of chatter as he gave his lectures and half-assed assignments were aggravating even on the better days. There would be a rude awakening for them once the spring term started up.

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RATHER BE THE HUNTER
THAN THE PREY

[attr="class","next"] Florence was young, she knew this and so did many others, but that didn’t stop her from being better. While she had lived in France all her life and had attended a different school, that didn’t make her any less qualified for the teaching job she currently had. Divination had always been her favorite subject during her schooling, and she had even gone to learn more about it through travel which had led her here, to Hogwarts. While there were a few teachers that were younger than she was, there was quite a handful that were older – with more experience than she could ever muster. Florence didn’t know much about the outside world, or the evil that truly dwelled within it, but she did know of the darkness that plagued many futures whenever she read her tarot or helped a student read their tea-leaves. She had witnessed death, not face to face, but she had been at Hogwarts when the killings had started. She didn’t know of death truly, but she knew enough about it to repeal back from it.

Professor Zabini, however, knew of the darkness that ran the streets and the murders that needed to be dealt with. Florence could never dream of doing his past job, and sometimes she even wondered what made him stop to become a teacher? She could tell that sometimes he didn’t enjoy the students and teaching, or perhaps, that was her looking for something more. But she could tell from his eyes, that he had seen some shit – shit that she could never dare dream of. She smirked at his gruffly remark to her question, “It could be—sadly, that isn’t how weather works.”

“I’ve never been one for cold. It looks prettier falling upon Hogwarts than it did at Beauxbatons,” she concluded truthfully to his remark. She had been in awe of it when she first started at Hogwarts, and yet now it was a thing of the past. She was used to it, but it didn’t stop her from taking it in. “Oh yes, I plan to return to my home in France to see my family this Holiday season, something I haven’t done for a while,” she mused aloud before frowning, “But I agree—I feel as if the students are extra antsy when it comes to Divination, like they aren’t even trying their homework anymore. I had a student tell me they had seen an owl steal their tarot cards, which is a new one…” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I presume you are ready for the term to be over?” she questioned, a perfectly shaped eyebrow-raising as she glanced at him.

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TAG blaise leo zabini

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[blaise leo zabini]

florence violet fortescue

12.XX.2024

If magic could control the weather, like truly control it, then he would have a million and one less things to complain about each day. Poor weather was the root of all evil. Finally he had a job that didn’t require him to go outside in order to do it, a first in his life. While at the Ministry he always complained about the paperwork and being stuck to a desk for an entire day, but he hadn’t realized at the time what he was being subjected to. Now he wasn’t forced to do anything, aside from the occasional night on call for the Prefects or serving out a detention or two. “Very true,” he said, just as gruffly as before, an elongated breath going through his nose before coming back out the same way in a cloud of condensation. There had been colder winters during his school years, but he was also a lot spryer and could easily acclimate to the bitter winds and chill that clung to the castle walls. These days he had the fireplaces in his classroom and living quarters crackling constantly. “Hogwarts does have that sort of charm to it,” he stated. Professor Thorpe compared it to Beauxbatons, saying that the English school looked better in the winter than her alma mater did. He had never been to the French school, but by most accounts it was something else altogether. To hear that it wasn’t up to par in the snow was an interesting detail. There was a chance that meant Hogwarts was the best wizarding school, experts always seemingly at a face-off between the English and French schools.

At least he wasn’t the only faculty member that felt like he was losing his grip on the students. Going stir crazy around the holidays was a part of being young. Unfortunately the magic (pun intended) of it wore off eventually. Blaise disliked the muggle consumerism of it more than anything else, but he was still subjected to it due to his wife’s chosen career path in the film industry. “As long as I don’t have to ride the bloody train back to London, then yes,” he said, rolling his eyes. That would definitely be something the Ministry would pull strings on – call in a favor from Old Zabini, see if he could protect the kiddies on their way home for Christmas. They seemed to forget he had a family of his own and wasn’t exactly expendable like he used to be. He hadn’t been one of those guys in almost twenty years. “The second term typically holds over better, in my experience,” Blaise explained. Though he was drawing from his own memories as a student, instead of as a professor. “But we shall see. I’m interested in seeing how the Ilvermorny seventh years fare against our seventh years.” Blaise had faith in his Hogwarts students, but there was no telling what sort of potential the Americans had. They were all enigmas, learning magic in a different manner than he had his entire life. Yet it was all the same at the end of the day. Teaching to half a class that understood him and half that didn’t had been difficult for the first month or so and he was sure it would smooth out by time the second term rolled around.

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RATHER BE THE HUNTER
THAN THE PREY

[attr="class","next"] Florence had always enjoyed the warm weather, much like what Blaise wished upon the world right now, but the only way to get what one wanted—was to do what birds did, and fly somewhere that didn’t have winter. She enjoyed the snow, but she hated the cold that came with it. That much she could agree upon—if the winter months brought snow and warm weather, she would be one content young woman. The ginger smiled brightly, “Yes—yes it does,” she agreed just as quickly as Blaise had started it. Her school had its charm, but she always thought that Hogwarts held something more—it felt more like a home than a school, something that her alma mater lacked. While she loved Beauxbatons, there were many times that she and her classmates had wished to taste what Hogwarts was like. Sometimes she even wondered why many experts always failed at saying which was better, the English or French school. Maybe it was because they were both amazing in their ways, but in her mind, Hogwarts may have won.

Florence let out a soft chuckle, “I take it you dislike the train? I don’t mind it—better than the damn flying carriage.” Her words were truthful if it came down to it, she had rather of rode a train to school than taking the carriage ride, but maybe that was because of her dislike of heights. She didn’t fear them; she didn’t trust them. She nodded her head, “I have noticed that the last few years I’ve been a professor. They seem determined to finish out the term and be done with it for a longer holiday. Plus—it’s the last chance at a good grade,” she said with a smile.

“Are you having trouble teaching the Ilvermorny students?” she questioned with a curious glint in her eye, “I had a bit of trouble in the beginning, but that glossed over a bit, and they got in the swing of things. Though, my class is merely an elective…so I can’t have a say in their abilities,” she said with a soft smile on her face.

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TAG blaise leo zabini

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[blaise leo zabini]

florence violet fortescue

12.XX.2024

Did he dislike the train? Kind of. It was old school and inefficient, and based on his time in the Ministry, a huge security hassle that could be easily avoided if parents were allowed to apparate to and from the castle to pick up their children. Blaise would have preferred to do that with his kids, but rules were rules and sitting idly by when other kids were being murdered by their peers or blown up on their way home. Nope, the train was completely safe and a great way to send their children to home for the holidays. “I’ve been put off by it more and more over the last few years,” he explained, not trying to hide the disdain he had for it. He could go on and on about the frustrations that came from getting the call that he was needed because ‘more children were dead’ or the sorts. Professors at Hogwarts could only see a glimpse from it, but the ones currently employed there weren’t trained to be security guards and rightfully so. “Don’t believe I need to elaborate on why that it is. We’ve all seen what can happen. Students are soft targets, and placing them out in the open like we’ve been doing isn’t smart at all,” Blaise shrugged at his colleague. The Minister should have known better than to keep the charade up. He was sure that it had to do with not wanting to cause a public panic. Taking away normal day to day activities because they were suddenly unsafe was equal to giving up. He understood that. But dangling soft targets out there for any dark witch or wizard to take a bite like they were? That was irresponsible.

“Not at all. It’s up to them whether or not they want to learn. In my experience, having trouble teaching means you failed somewhere along the line with your students. The ones that don’t care won’t learn, and the ones that do, will. Simple as that.” That was a tactic they had used when training new hit witches and wizards, and he had tried to bring into the Obliviator department as well. It didn’t always work for the latter, but the hit squad loved it. Weeded out the weak willed ones that couldn’t do what they were asked to do. Unwavering minds is what they needed. Teaching the students was similar, in a way, and he knew which ones valued his class and those that didn’t. It was all over their faces whether they knew it or not. “I can’t speak for other classes though. That’s simply what I’ve observed in my careers and have seen in my classroom as well.”