Welcome Olphie B. and Elegant P. open

Elliot peered up at the tall walls of the castle as he made his way through the rain. His ankle length, brown traveling cloak and flat cap shielded him from the wet. He paused for a moment, taking in the site before him. The ancient structure emitted  a dull yellow light as the hundreds of candles burned within. The rain water ran down the oak doors he had been in and out of countless times in his youth. It had been decades since he had been to Hogwarts. The ancient castle held many fond memories for the older man, as well as many that were not so.

Regardless, in this moment, Elliot looked upon the castle with kind eyes. The elder man was elated for the opportunity before him. It was just a few weeks prior that he had received his acceptance letter from Headmaster Lear, approving him as the new Professor of Potions. He would cast aside the lime green robes from his previous career as a healer at St. Mungo’s and don the black ones that marked so many within the school. It would be his greatest pleasure to spend his retirement years passing on his knowledge to the next generation of witches and wizards. 

A flash of orange would break him from his reverie, as a finely dressed woman made her way towards the castle entrance. Elliot knew that he was not the only new Professor that would be arriving this day. His old legs carried him forward quicker than one might expect from a man of his age, getting in line behind the many parcels of luggage that floated behind her. He followed her through the door.

“Hello Hogwarts! I’m so glad to see you once more. Your newest Professor has arrived!” The woman announced in a loud and booming voice. 

Elliot removed his flat cap, holding it in both hands before him. His eyes would peer over the round lenses of his glasses, an eyebrow raised as the luggage clattered to the floor. Not the humblest of entrances, but maybe she was just a bit overly excited. The only object left in her hands was a wand and the long, sleek handle of a flying broom. His basic knowledge of the sport would deprive him of what make and model it may be. Elliot was an academic, athletics we’re never his calling. Besides, the old man preferred Muggle football anyways. With a few steps he made his way around the pile to make his presence known.

“Well! Who wants an autograph?” Again, she called out.

Elliot would approach her, cap in his left hand, his right extended in greeting. “Hello. Please allow me to be the first to ask.” His voice would be the opposite from the one before him. His tone was deep and rich, but the words would come out in a soft, gentle manner. A polite smile would cross his face. “My name is Elliot, Elliot Price. New Professor of Potions. Allow me to assume,” he would gesture to the broom in her hand. “Our newest Professor of Flight?”

With very far flung between breaks, Millie took her time in studying and walking around Hogwarts. She quite enjoyed introducing herself to other lost first-years, or even just seeing what there was to see. Multiple times her cat, Honey, was seen following her around, sniffing the old and dusty floors, or chasing after mice. Though, sometimes, Honey would just crawl on Millie's shoulders and sit. And not move. For hours at a time.

Taking a trip through the Small Hall proved useful. Honey was exploring the Gryffindor Girls dormitory, so Millie took what little time she had, and explored the hallway she walked through almost every-day. And, the lack of company was fine at first, but then, it became almost depressing. There was nothing fun about walking alone through a small corridor, when it was currently vacated. Which, while there were people in the hallway, none of which Millie recognized. Sad.

A loud, booming voice echoed through the hall when the door opened. The noise together made Millie jump about four feet off of the ground. It hurt her ear, and then made the girl smack her arms together. Ouch. But what was worst, was that this woman was so loud about it! Who needed a voice about twenty times louder than a dragon?

"Hello Hogwarts! I am so glad to see you once more. Your newest professor has arrived!"

This was not saying very much. Hogwarts went through about twenty different professors every other month. But 'newest' only meant a few positions. Potions, and Flying position. When the Flying professor left to be Head of Ravenclaw, and the Potions professor left for unnamed reasons, this led her conclusion to be final.

The woman's loud voice echoed through the hallway, and she asked something about an autograph? Millie was still confused as to who this woman was, much less about an autograph? She didn't look familiar, but if she was famous in the English Wizard World, then that might've been the only explainable reason.

Then another adult-figure stepped up asking for one? Was this woman famous? Who were these people anyway? There were so many questions and Millie just got more confused. She chanced a glance at her peers, and they didn't show very many answers. For Merlins sake, who were these people?

“My name is Elliot, Elliot Price. New Professor of Potions... “Our newest Professor of Flight?”

One question answered. Perfect. But who was this hotshot professor of Flight? Someone famous? Was she a quidditch player? That would be why she was famous, and a Professor of Flight! But assumptions weren't okay, and asking might've been considered rude, but Millie was a Gryffindor for a reason.To be brave.

So she stepped away from the wall where she was standing, and into the light. It shined brightly on her Amethyst eyes, and unruly brown-ish black hair.

"Excuse me miss, no disrespect, but who are you?" Her voice was pointed to the woman, but the man might've had answers too.

Upon her introduction, a bespeckled man would come to approach her and identify himself as the Potions Professor himself. The smile was kindly, but Olphie could not help but look upon his scarred face with slight disgust. In a millisecond, however, she would force a smile upon her face and accept the man's handshake. She eyed round glasses, then the flat cap that lay grasped in his left hand, before she answered, "Why yes dear, of course I am! I know you'll find that Headmaster Learner made an excellent choice in choosing a former Quidditch superstar to influence these young minds. You say you are the Potions professor? I have to say, with a name like Elleanora Primandproper, I wasn't expect you to look quite so...manly."

She would raise her broom as she spoke these words, as if trying to prove a point. When Olphie completed her statement, though, she pocketed her wand so her hand was free to reach into her pocket for a pre-signed autograph. Olphie was intelligent enough to realize that many students and coworkers would want something touched by greatness, so she had spent a few hours the previous day scrawling her signature on perfectly cut pieces of parchment. Handing the paper to the ugly, yet kindly, old man, she smiled brightly.

It was not even a few beats later that another presence had made herself known, inquiring who Olphie was. Olphie would extend her smile to include the girl as she turned toward her. She had seen this happen before, of course, when fans would feign ignorance so as to pretend that they did not want special treatment. The child was not convincing in her true intentions. The Flying professor reached into her pocket to grab another slip of parchment, and while attempting to hand the slip to the girl, she winked and launched into her loud spiel: "I am Olphie Camille Bercegeay, Professor Bercegeay to you. I am a native of London, one of ten, Hogwarts graduate who lived in the Slytherin House. It was in my third year that the Slytherin Quidditch team was privileged to have me join as their star beater. I would graduate with top marks, of course, and would then spread my greatness to the Holyhead Harpies. I am certain you remember my influence in our unforgettable game against the Magpies, when we won 320-20. Now, enough about me, dear, I know you knew that already. Tell me about you. I am eager to get to know anyone who has the potential to be the next Quidditch superstar."

The sound of his footsteps tapping across the stone-cold floor had now settled in his mind almost as if he had a continuous rhythm banging in his ears. For perhaps a singular occasion, Caradoc was in fact not lost along the way. However his personal schedule had him crossing the castle east to west and three times around. Locating professors and specific students had not been easy in the old Hogwarts keep.

With the list done for the day, the Hufflepuff Head of House had settled on the idea of some light reading. Passing by the library, he picked up an older book he remembered being about medieval debate on wizard's chess. Perhaps not the most intriguing topic at first sight. But he recalled it being written in a funny and critical manner. With his fingers already sifting through the pages as he descended the ever-changing stairs. He eventually found his way down by the entrance of the small hall. Just when he walked down the last steps onto the bronze colored pavement, the doors swung open.

A smiling younger lady had entered, broom in hand and wand swinging. Clearly she expected the crowd to go wild upon her striding in to meet her fans. Not that Caradoc recognised her. And judging by the multiple reactions around him, neither did a lot of the rest inside the hall. A line of luggage followed closely behind and settled itself in her trail. Apparently it had been raining outside.

On that observation, the second figure emerged. This one, Caradoc did know. Elliot Price, the new Potions Professor and Hufflepuff graduate like himself. Though price was several decades his senior. He knew the man from his years back at St. Mungos. Remembering him as a very adequate healer. While the first lady rather made Browne avoid an introduction, the latter individual caused him to appraoch.

With a careful pace he came up closer while he noticed a student already engaging the pair in conversation. With his book still open on page 154, he licked his finger and sifted a bit further before he came withing something of 10 feet. With a determined step, he walked up closer to both of the new professors and offered to shake their hands. "Professor Price , a pleasure to see you again. And professor Bercegeay, how.. you made quite the entrance." Caradoc would smile as he always did. Warm and inviting, though he could not help but wonder what trouble would arrive along with Hogwarts'new guests.

Not one, but two new teachers? Angellica had to get to know them, to learn about them, how they were, and what they would be like. She felt that getting to know a person helped make things easier. As a student that went beyond Exceeding Expectations most times, it was in her interest to get to know the faculty. It was easy to accomplish homework, but to tailor it to a particular audience, that was something that set her apart. It didn’t matter what she thought or how she felt, she needed the grades, needed to prove herself adaptable, and this was the perfect opportunity to truly ensure this. Authority was best when on one’s side, and Angellica had no reason to turn anyone against her. These people held her future at the end of a quill, and getting along with everyone was more than necessary. It was a trait that might have been closer to Slytherin, but the Ravenclaw’s quest for knowledge was too deep to ever place her in the silver and emerald as her father had been sorted once upon a time.

The rain was a bit of a shame. It meant there was a greater risk of having to share the professors’ attention with others. Not many found things to do outside the castle in the rain, and though she did many nights a week as a member of the Quidditch team, this was not one of those sessions. The small hall wasn’t the biggest of rooms, but it was the place where most gathered to meet new people. While figures made their way in and out of the room, she studied in the corner. It wasn’t uncommon for Angellica to be quiet, she’d been taught to take little room, though it wasn’t something she had intended for herself. There were other ways to hold a presence, and though some might find calling attention to themselves was a manner in which to do so. From what she could gather, Olphie Bercegeay was as entitled and boisterous as the news made her to be, but it wasn’t a problem, it just meant if she made things enough about her, it might help her. Shallow people didn’t require much depth after all.

The other arrival was older, more mature looking and honestly, Angellica didn’t care what he looked like, she just hoped he could sate the thirst she had when it came to Potions. After a few brews, it had quickly become one of her favored subjects at school. Although it was slightly disappointing to watch the man ask an autograph of the other professor, she could only hope it was a ruse. It didn’t matter though, the blonde had plans to befriend both professors.

“Merlin’s Beard, Olphie Bercegeay?!” the shock and grin on Angellica’s features was easy. "I mean Professor Price, of course." Nearly a decade of feigning pleasure for Christmas presents had taught her a lot in the ability to display emotion she had no source for. “I’m Angellica Rowley, I’m a beater for Ravenclaw,” she said holding a parchment to her chest and grinning, platinum blonde curls bouncing. It wasn’t hard to play vapid when she looked the part. “It’s such an honor to meet you professor, and I would definitely love an autograph!” Later she could regret her words in the shower but until then, she wasn’t about to ruin a chance to make friends with the new professors.

“And you must be Mister Elliot Price,” she turned to the man that had introduced himself. She had of course researched all the new members of staff. If only to have something to talk about. “If memory serves, you are a Potions Master, and were employed at St Mungo’s until recently. Healing is a most fascinating branch of Magic, selfless to say the least,” she nodded, her voice more quiet than it had been with the Quidditch star. “You must have a lot of wisdom to bring to us,” she offered, a genuine glimmer in her eyes. Potions was her favorite class, but healing wasn’t exactly a field she thought she had interest it. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, a means to help those on the team that might be injured, or more importantly, herself. Knowledge was power, to heal was a very intimate type of magic.

Was it Christmas? Not only would she get to meet the latest additions to class, but a Head of House was around? Well, this was definitely the young girl's lucky day. "Mister Browne," she grinned. "It's so wonderful to see you here, well of course you are, greeting the new professors. Hufflepuffs are loyal and unafraid of toil." Honestly, it seemed he'd have to be very much of the latter to deal with the new Flying Professor.

What the hell was a 'Holyhead Harpie'? What was this woman hinting at? An entire egotistical life filled with more self-admiration than one knew to deal with? Yeah, but no. The woman, Professor Bercegeay, handed Millie a slip. She looked at it, and realized something; Quidditch.

Of course! It made so much sense. The previous capitain, Gwenog Jones, was apparently really conceited and vain, or so Millie had heard. Perhaps this is where the Professor had got it from. Oh well, only more questions, and no answers. Or, none to be seen in the near future.

Then another teacher appeared. This one, Millie sort of recognized. It was the head of Hufflepuff. The professor seemed to be the only person here who had a bit of sense. Even with Professor Price asking for an autograph. More people were appearing and this was getting quite overwhelming for the Gryffindor. Her fingers clutched around the red cloth that was in her pocket. Realizing this, she made a reminder to take it out, and put it back in her trunk.

Another person- this one her age- appeared. She seemed a lot more experienced in the three professors, and Millie furrowed her eyebrows. Who even bothered to look up all this information? It was ludicrous that someone would bother to care so much. With the Quidditch thing, she could understand, but with the other Professors? Nada.

She turned her attention towards Professor Bercegeay, and looked up at the woman. "So you were a Quidditch player? I don't recognize you, miss. But I didn't grow up here, so that might be why." This was only a half-truth. She did grow up in England, but she also grew up in America. Maybe this woman really was famous, but, Millie felt like she would've recognize a famous Quidditch player.

Then again, maybe not.

Elliot’s eyes would narrow as the new Professor of Flight began to address him. Apparently a life as a Quidditch super star had washed away any sense of manners or social niceties. First, he would notice her eyes flick to either side of his face. He did not blame her for noticing the scars as it would be almost impossible not to. However, Elliot was an extremely observant man, the flash of distaste in her eyes would betray her internal thoughts. If she believed that his age had dulled his accute sense of observation, she was sorely mistaken. Second, she would go on to mispronounce Headmaster Lear’s name. He internally questioned how she could have received the position without even knowing the mans name that hired her. Then, she would mispronounce his own name, even though he had just clearly introduced himself. And lastly, the women did not even have the social grace to give her own name. With a deep sigh he would take the autographed picture from her hand. Olphie Bercegeay. 

“I’m sure Headmaster Lear...has made an excellent choice.” Elliot’s smile would have long since faded. His once kind words turning sharp as his sense of cordiality dropped. He was man that wore his emotions on his sleeve, not that he deemed this woman capable of picking up on...anything. “And now for the second time, my name is Elliot Price and I will bid you a good evening.” He would turn away from Professor Bercegeay to see a young student with shoulder length dark hair approaching. Elliot’s previous scowl would be replaced with his warm smile once more. A smile that would grow as the girl clearly didn’t have a clue who the woman was.

As his eyes moved up from the student, they would fall onto a familiar sight. It was none other than his former colleague at St. Mungo’s, Caradoc Browne. Elliot’s hand would rise to meet his in greeting. “Professor Browne. The pleasure is all mine. I was thrilled when Headmaster Lear told me you were working here. Hufflepuff is in good hands.”

A flash of blonde bouncing curls would catch his eye next as another student approached. She must have done her research as she seemed to already know the new arrival’s names. He would extend his hand to her in greeting, his eyebrows raising slightly as she rattled off a few facts about him. “A pleasure to meet you Miss Rowley and although I do appreciate your manners, please just refer to me as Professor Price. I can see you are someone who enjoys being well informed. I am indeed a Potions master and have spent the majority of my life working at St. Mungo’s.” Elliot noticed the glimmer of passion that sprinkled through the young girl’s eyes as she spoke. She seemed to have a healthy thirst for knowledge and it was just that exact reason he had chosen to teach. “The healing arts are a calling, one that I received many years ago. It was my life’s greatest pleasure to use my gift to help those in need, but now I am called here. I will do my very best to depart my knowledge unto you and the other students Miss Rowley. I can only hope it will be enough to satisfy you.” He finished his statement with a wink.

The fans were swarming, and to any passersby, it would be clear that Olphie was relishing in such attention. Olphie would not regard Elsa's goodbye biddings, quite grateful that she could avoid any more interactions, as she was scared that she could catch ugly. He seemed to be idiotic, too, given that he mispronounced Headmaster Lark's name and felt the need to think his name was not Elsbeth Princess. It was unfortunate that no one more qualified had applied for the Potions Professorship, but, when she was inevitably needed to step in, Olphie knew that she would be willing to juggle both the Potions and Flying positions. Potions was easy enough; you just needed a spoonful of sugar and the medicine would go down, or something like that.

The first newcomer was an old man, not nearly as ugly as Elegant. He had potential, especially if he believed in using a little foundation to cover up those a few visible blemishes. Olphie wondered if the old man would be willing to delve into the world of make up. Given his ancient appearance, she wasn't sure if he was quite as progressive as children were these days. She smiled genially when he acknowledged her, though, knowing that she could enquire about his make-up habits later, for this moment was about her, and her alone. Oh, and Elsat, of course. He probably needed some love, as he likely rarely got any due to his hideous appearance. Olphie flashed him a sorrowful smile as she looked at the slightly less old man, saying, "Yes, yes, thank you dear. And what is your name?"

The two students were a different matter; Olphie could see that they had potential, given their eager natures. Olphie gazed upon the less bouncy one as she wondered if Olphie was a Quidditch player, claiming that she did not recognize the great former reserve of the Holyhead Harpies. "Dear me, yes, I daresay that not growing up here could inhibit one's knowledge of important topics," Olphie said with a wink. She knew the girl's true motive, trying to pretend as though she did not know the Harpy so as not to seem like a suck up. She was ambitious, smart; though her robes identified her as a Gryffindor, Olphie knew that the hat must have made a mistake and should have placed her in Slytherin. The girl would be a good mentee. With brains like that, the fake-Gryffindor would likely be able to bash other Quidditch players on the pitch when the referee's eyes were looking elsewhere, which was Olphie's favorite tactic. The should-be Slytherin's memory seemed to be lacking, though, as Olphie had thought she had told her that she was a Quidditch player already. Either way, she was blessed to go against her humble nature to talk about herself occasionally. The Flying professor could say her story once more. "As I said, dear: I am Olphie Camille Bercegeay, Professor Bercegeay to you. I am a native of London, one of ten, Hogwarts graduate who lived in the Slytherin House. It was in my third year that the Slytherin Quidditch team was privileged to have me join as their star beater. I would graduate with top marks, of course, and would then spread my greatness to the Holyhead Harpies. I am certain you remember my influence in our unforgettable game against the Magpies, when we won 320-20. And what is your name?"

She craved the girl's name, needed her identity confirmed if she was going to be a proper mentor. It was amazing how things always fell into Olphie's lap like this. Not even a few minutes at Hogwarts and she was already influencing young lives!

The other, more energetic girl showed promise as well. Olphie hated taking her away from the fanless Alouette, as he likely had never had a fan before, but the girl had identified herself as a beater and an Olphie aficionado. She nodded at Elegant apologetically, in part for his scars, in part for the fact that she was taking Angel Radley away from him, and said boisterously, "A beater, dear? Why Miss Rowling, I was a beater! Have you enjoyed the position? I daresay that I cannot wait to step back onto that Quidditch pitch, it is of fond memories for me, of course."

With this statement, Olphie would raise her broom above her head once more, gleeful to talk about her favorite sport. She was lucky to be back at Hogwarts with all this potential. She loved the Harpies and would miss them, but Olphie's heart remained in helping shape Quidditch potential into perfection.

Thank god for Professor Price. Though, she did have quite the confusion about him. He seemed to share Millie's doubts about this teacher, and seemed to be the only one who wasn't insane here! Not to say that Professor Browne or the Ravenclaw girl were insane. Millie wouldn't go that far.

"… And what is your name?"

Millie looked over at the woman and blinked rapidly for a few minutes before realizing she was talking to her. She suddenly felt an urge of awkwardness. For, she really did not want to continue this conversation, but if she left a bad mark on the Professor, her grades could suffer. Could you even get a grade in Flying? Even so, she was not about to take any chances.

"Uh, Euphrasia Millie, miss. But I can see you aren't very good with names," Millie stopped a moment to recover her middle name. "If its easier, miss, my middle name is Destiny." Such an interesting name for such an interesting child.

As Professor Bercegeay turned to talk to the Ravenclaw, Millie was overcome with such a bout of helplessness, she almost started laughing. If she were to be stuck her for the rest of her life, talking about Quidditch for a team she didn't know, she might as well make the best of it. Hopefully someone could make sense of this situation.