Grading Papers (Kiessa)

[Sebastian Harris]

"Return to your dormitories!" shouted Sebastian. A few fourth-years who had been passing by his office exchanged dirty looks with each other. Sebastian, however, was not one to be intimidated. "It's past nine o'clock!" he said, giving them another warning. "Either turn around or we all take a visit to your Head of House." Furious but defeated, the students turned around and left, the last one being careful to give Sebastian a look of pure loathing before heading back to where they had come from. Hearing the echo of their footsteps grow silent, Sebastian got back to his work.

Essays was the name of the game tonight. A full roll of parchment about the discovery of bezoars and their uses against poisons, with or without being a key ingredient in an antidote, had been assigned to his students three days earlier. Most of them, he suspected, were now harboring ill feelings towards him, after having set such a long essay so close to exams. It was little concern to him, though; he was there to teach and instruct. If he was forced to sacrifice friendship with his pupils for the sake of their education, he would do it in a heart beat. And though they most likely had detested writing the essay, some of them had done rather well. If that kind of work ethic continued, most of his class would pass their exams and see him next term, if they so chose in the case of the fifth-years.

A knock against wood broke his concentration. Blinking, he stopped writing for a moment and looked up at the young witch who was now standing at his open office door. "Good evening," said Sebastian politely. "May I help you?"

[Kiessa Fiores]

Dignity was not something Kiessa had been blessed with (or cursed with, in her mind). She had noted when she was very young that when people grow up, the become less happy and less fun. The serious aspects of life were heightened and trials were commonplace. She understood that some people liked the drama and the tears, but she preferred fun. Life was wasted on those who took it to seriously. Kiessa was not one of those people. She lived every day to the best extreme and kept her outlook cheery. If you were going to live, you might as well enjoy it.

That is why Kiessa bounced merrily down the halls of the castle now, broomstick over her shoulder and blonde hair flying widly. She had been flying around the Quidditch pitch for the past few hours, enjoying the mysterious feeling of flying around in the semi-dark. But no matter how much she enjoyed flying, she did have a limit.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly bumped into a group of students, looking like they were set to kill. They had been whispering as she approached, but they fell silent as Kiessa continued skipping past. She did, however, catch the words "Professor Harris" and "Venomous Tentacula". Figuring it could mean no good, she headed towards the Potions Professor's office.

She knocked against the door frame and her dimpled smile spread across her face. When Professor Harris acknowledged her, she tilted her head to the side. "I just came to warn you that some fourth years are plotting your murder."

[Sebastian Harris]

Smiling slightly, Sebastian looked back down at his work. "Oh?" he said, sounding slightly amused at the thought. "I would think that they would want to get back to their common room. You know, before I really lose it and start jinxing anything that moves."

He looked up and saw Kiessa's face more clearly. She looked familiar to him and he was just now seeing it. It was a few moments before the realization of where he had seen her hit him like a ton of bricks. He had seen her throughout his career of faithfully reading the Daily Prophet: she had been photographed as an athlete and as one of their writers many different times. "You're Kiessa Fiores, aren't you?" he said, smiling even more now. "This is an honor. I love your column," said Sebastian as he stood up from behind his desk and extended his hand. "What on earth are you doing at Hogwarts?" Now that Sebastian thought about it, he hadn't seen her column in awhile. Someone else had been writing for the Prophet, and he had just assumed someone was filling in temporarily.

((OOC: I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this has taken so long!!! I've had a lot of bad stuff going on in my life lately.))

[Kiessa Fiores]

Kiessa nodded at Sebastien's comment about the students. It really wasn't the best plan, to go around plotting against teachers. It was actually downright stupid. Professors went through school too and learned a lot more than fourth year level spells.

And then a look crossed Sebastien’s face that she had trouble deciphering. Surprise, maybe? The potions professors question about her identity cleared that up. Of course someone was bound to recognize her; previously being a star Quidditch player and sports columnist for the Prophet. “Indeed I am,” Kiessa acknowledged the question with a modest shrug, then returned the handshake jovially. At the man’s next question, she assumed a quizzical expression. “Didn’t you know? I’m the new flying instructor.”

[Sebastian Harris]

Sebastian blinked. "No, I hadn't heard anything of the sort," said Sebastian, clearly surprised at this. He couldn't help but wonder why she had left such a promising job at the Daily Prophet to teach at Hogwarts. It was a noble profession, but even he knew that having the role of "teacher" was not the most glamorous job in the world. Very difficult and sometimes held in the same esteem as babysitting (much to Sebastian's annoyance).

"Please, make yourself at home," said Sebastian, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Flying instructor, eh? Welcome to the rat race, then. Not to badmouth the profession, but what in the name of Merlin did Joseph Witchard promise you, a writer, for you to leave the Prophet and get you here?" The essays now lay forgotten on his desk, ready to be reviewed later that evening. He supposed that it wouldn't hurt to take a break and entertain for a little bit. Just this once.

((OOC: Again, sorry about the long wait!))