Post by Karlynne on Mar 5, 2005 0:28:14 GMT -5
Aan Alex: De Zon Zal Opnieuw Schijnen
Death’s Lullaby
If there is a tedious, tiring element to the duties of Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry it is hiring qualified professors. At the end of nearly every school year I find myself having to fill one, two, or more positions from a pitiful pool of applicants.
This summer I only had to look for one. I needed an astronomy teacher and thank the gods it is the easiest of all positions at the school. Most of the material is taught directly from the textbooks and although there is an occasional night of stargazing, for the most part even the most inexperienced teacher can quickly get caught up in the subject.
This time I was fortunate to have four applicants for the job. The first two were qualified but due to the fact they had just graduated from Hogwarts a year ago, I felt they would be unable to garner the correct expertise needed to keep their former housemates and friends in line. I urged them to try again in two years and they left satisfied that it wasn’t their knowledge that had rendered them unacceptable but their age. With the confidence of youth, both former students left to blaze their trails elsewhere.
The third applicant would have been perfect as she was not only a former professor but also exceptionally knowledgeable about astronomy. The only major drawback was she was blind. Normally it is an area we could work around but astronomy class was not only held in a tower but the night classes would become nothing more than teenage snogging sessions.
The fourth applicant, Mary Simon, was currently singing in a nightclub in Hogsmeade. She had requested an interview during the thirty-minute break she had between sets while working. I didn’t mind, as I hadn’t caught a show at the Blue Note Club in several years.
I regaled Minerva with a couple of rather colorful stories of the activities that went on in the darker areas of the club. She decided to accompany me on the interview.
She was now Deputy Headmistress so I could not deny her. The gleam in her eye told me only a fool would try. The love of my life knew I would never stray or even let a whisper of infidelity enter my mind but there is no point in tempting fate and my description of the hostess’ dress was the determining factor in Minerva’s decision to join me for a drink.
It was a lovely June evening when we embarked on our stroll into Hogsmeade. It was only nine but Mary took a break at eleven, which would give me plenty of time to observe her while partaking of a drink or two. Her professional name was Marie Simone. I hoped she lived up to the alluring change of moniker
The Blue Note Club was larger than it appeared. Several enlarging charms allowed several hundred patrons to sit at tables and booths without feeling crowded. Minerva and I chose a table at the very front but off to the side so we would be tucked into a corner and out of the way. We had an excellent view of the stage however.
A scantily clad waitress came over to take our drink order. Minerva was wearing her most fierce expression. Missy Lothario, a former Hufflepuff, was our server and her school robes had never given a hint of the legs she owned. Her waist was cinched into a rather form fitting robe that emphasized her well-endowed bosom. I could see the lecture on Minerva’s lips and I winked at her. She narrowed her eyes and turned away from Missy slightly. I knew Minerva would speak with her at some point tonight.
I want you to know that I never glanced at her chest even once while she bent over the table to place our drinks on the table. Minerva had an approving look in her eyes as she trained them on me. Never accuse me of being an idiot. If a man reaches the ripe old age of ninety without knowing where to place his gaze when his old lady is eying him, he deserves whatever justice she deems appropriate. I had seen ninety over forty years ago so not only did I keep my gaze on Minerva, I also reached beneath the table and covered her knee with my hand.
Truth be told, no woman could hold a candle to Minerva. She was all I ever dreamed of having and so much more. But I am straying from my story.
The lights dimmed just a few minutes after we had been served our drinks. Several beams of light were cast on a small stage and the most dazzling woman I had ever seen since I met Minerva appeared.
Mary Simon was a blonde angel. She was tall and curvy and sat seductively on a stool while she sang. She wore a deep blue silky robe that revealed more than it covered. Her voice was incredibly soft and I knew nearly every man in the room was drooling in his firewhiskey. Minerva watched her with that critical eye that women give each other.
I sat entranced. I made myself blink on occasion and several times I raised Minerva’s hand to my lips to let her know that I still considered her the cream of the crop. Ninety minutes after she began singing I could sense she was singing her final number. Applause followed her off the stage. She made her way around the room, greeting familiar faces and nodding at others. She ended her journey at our table and requested five minutes to freshen up.
I had risen when she approached and quickly agreed. She appeared much taller standing in front of me. Resuming my seat I turned a hesitant eye to Minerva.
“She’s the only remaining qualified applicant but do you think she could teach our male students to keep their eyes focused on astronomy and not her?” Minerva was folding her napkin on her lap and I waited for her to look up at me.
“We don’t seem to have that problem with Transfigurations so I am certain the young men will behave in like manner,” I answered suavely. I can be quite the charmer when I try and was rewarded with a stunning smile.
Minerva began pointing out various acquaintances that sat at other tables. George Lewis, Deputy Minister of Magic, sat across the room from us. He obviously had arrived immediately following work. He still wore his ministry robes. He shared a table with Gregory Baird, Head of the Department of Policies and Regulations, wearing burgundy robes that clashed with his carroty hair, and August McNary, Chief Auror, a stout man friend, and dressed in his blue auror robes. I knew they would claim they were there on business but it would be a bit of a stretch for their wives to believe. Sitting as a trio gave them a veneer of respectability.
Donald Stanley, owner of the Blue Note Club, sat at his personal table in the back. He sat alone but was approached several times by various gentlemen with slips of parchment in folded in their hands. I would give a thousand galleons to find out what was written on those slips but Stanley was a slippery character. The bits of parchment disappeared within seconds of him glancing at it.
I didn’t get the opportunity to observe anymore. The beautiful woman in front of me was rubbing my leg with her foot. Our relationship was for our eyes only so we could not behave in any manner that would raise a suspicious or even unsuspicious eyebrow at us. Minerva’s expression was purely professional but her foot was beneath my robes now and climbing higher. I was never so happy for tablecloths. I knew we were hidden from the public eye but there were some activities I preferred without an audience nearby.
Her foot had reached my knee when Mary returned. I was grateful for the opportunity to rise again but the smirk on Minerva’s lips was dangerous. I grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and placed it between Minerva and myself. Minerva took out her wand, elevated, and moved her chair a few inches to the left. This gave Mary room but also landed Minerva’s foot in my crotch. Her smirk grew along with an increased swelling of my own.
I let Minerva carry out almost the entire interview. The blood flow to my brain was severely depleted and I had enough on my plate to refrain from moaning and to keep still. I already knew we would hire her and Minerva went through the formalities but I could see she was pleased.
Mary invited us to remain for the second show and normally I would have declined but Minerva’s foot had wrecked havoc on my control and it was necessary to stay seated. I accepted after receiving Minerva’s wicked nod and wondered what else she had up her sleeve.
If I had paid closer attention I may have noticed that the tension in the room wasn’t exclusively sexual. It took the entire second show before I could safely rise up and leave. I should have remained.
The following morning The Daily Prophet, our wizarding newspaper, had headlines announcing the death of Donald Stanley, owner of the Blue Note Club.
Death’s Lullaby
If there is a tedious, tiring element to the duties of Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry it is hiring qualified professors. At the end of nearly every school year I find myself having to fill one, two, or more positions from a pitiful pool of applicants.
This summer I only had to look for one. I needed an astronomy teacher and thank the gods it is the easiest of all positions at the school. Most of the material is taught directly from the textbooks and although there is an occasional night of stargazing, for the most part even the most inexperienced teacher can quickly get caught up in the subject.
This time I was fortunate to have four applicants for the job. The first two were qualified but due to the fact they had just graduated from Hogwarts a year ago, I felt they would be unable to garner the correct expertise needed to keep their former housemates and friends in line. I urged them to try again in two years and they left satisfied that it wasn’t their knowledge that had rendered them unacceptable but their age. With the confidence of youth, both former students left to blaze their trails elsewhere.
The third applicant would have been perfect as she was not only a former professor but also exceptionally knowledgeable about astronomy. The only major drawback was she was blind. Normally it is an area we could work around but astronomy class was not only held in a tower but the night classes would become nothing more than teenage snogging sessions.
The fourth applicant, Mary Simon, was currently singing in a nightclub in Hogsmeade. She had requested an interview during the thirty-minute break she had between sets while working. I didn’t mind, as I hadn’t caught a show at the Blue Note Club in several years.
I regaled Minerva with a couple of rather colorful stories of the activities that went on in the darker areas of the club. She decided to accompany me on the interview.
She was now Deputy Headmistress so I could not deny her. The gleam in her eye told me only a fool would try. The love of my life knew I would never stray or even let a whisper of infidelity enter my mind but there is no point in tempting fate and my description of the hostess’ dress was the determining factor in Minerva’s decision to join me for a drink.
It was a lovely June evening when we embarked on our stroll into Hogsmeade. It was only nine but Mary took a break at eleven, which would give me plenty of time to observe her while partaking of a drink or two. Her professional name was Marie Simone. I hoped she lived up to the alluring change of moniker
The Blue Note Club was larger than it appeared. Several enlarging charms allowed several hundred patrons to sit at tables and booths without feeling crowded. Minerva and I chose a table at the very front but off to the side so we would be tucked into a corner and out of the way. We had an excellent view of the stage however.
A scantily clad waitress came over to take our drink order. Minerva was wearing her most fierce expression. Missy Lothario, a former Hufflepuff, was our server and her school robes had never given a hint of the legs she owned. Her waist was cinched into a rather form fitting robe that emphasized her well-endowed bosom. I could see the lecture on Minerva’s lips and I winked at her. She narrowed her eyes and turned away from Missy slightly. I knew Minerva would speak with her at some point tonight.
I want you to know that I never glanced at her chest even once while she bent over the table to place our drinks on the table. Minerva had an approving look in her eyes as she trained them on me. Never accuse me of being an idiot. If a man reaches the ripe old age of ninety without knowing where to place his gaze when his old lady is eying him, he deserves whatever justice she deems appropriate. I had seen ninety over forty years ago so not only did I keep my gaze on Minerva, I also reached beneath the table and covered her knee with my hand.
Truth be told, no woman could hold a candle to Minerva. She was all I ever dreamed of having and so much more. But I am straying from my story.
The lights dimmed just a few minutes after we had been served our drinks. Several beams of light were cast on a small stage and the most dazzling woman I had ever seen since I met Minerva appeared.
Mary Simon was a blonde angel. She was tall and curvy and sat seductively on a stool while she sang. She wore a deep blue silky robe that revealed more than it covered. Her voice was incredibly soft and I knew nearly every man in the room was drooling in his firewhiskey. Minerva watched her with that critical eye that women give each other.
I sat entranced. I made myself blink on occasion and several times I raised Minerva’s hand to my lips to let her know that I still considered her the cream of the crop. Ninety minutes after she began singing I could sense she was singing her final number. Applause followed her off the stage. She made her way around the room, greeting familiar faces and nodding at others. She ended her journey at our table and requested five minutes to freshen up.
I had risen when she approached and quickly agreed. She appeared much taller standing in front of me. Resuming my seat I turned a hesitant eye to Minerva.
“She’s the only remaining qualified applicant but do you think she could teach our male students to keep their eyes focused on astronomy and not her?” Minerva was folding her napkin on her lap and I waited for her to look up at me.
“We don’t seem to have that problem with Transfigurations so I am certain the young men will behave in like manner,” I answered suavely. I can be quite the charmer when I try and was rewarded with a stunning smile.
Minerva began pointing out various acquaintances that sat at other tables. George Lewis, Deputy Minister of Magic, sat across the room from us. He obviously had arrived immediately following work. He still wore his ministry robes. He shared a table with Gregory Baird, Head of the Department of Policies and Regulations, wearing burgundy robes that clashed with his carroty hair, and August McNary, Chief Auror, a stout man friend, and dressed in his blue auror robes. I knew they would claim they were there on business but it would be a bit of a stretch for their wives to believe. Sitting as a trio gave them a veneer of respectability.
Donald Stanley, owner of the Blue Note Club, sat at his personal table in the back. He sat alone but was approached several times by various gentlemen with slips of parchment in folded in their hands. I would give a thousand galleons to find out what was written on those slips but Stanley was a slippery character. The bits of parchment disappeared within seconds of him glancing at it.
I didn’t get the opportunity to observe anymore. The beautiful woman in front of me was rubbing my leg with her foot. Our relationship was for our eyes only so we could not behave in any manner that would raise a suspicious or even unsuspicious eyebrow at us. Minerva’s expression was purely professional but her foot was beneath my robes now and climbing higher. I was never so happy for tablecloths. I knew we were hidden from the public eye but there were some activities I preferred without an audience nearby.
Her foot had reached my knee when Mary returned. I was grateful for the opportunity to rise again but the smirk on Minerva’s lips was dangerous. I grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and placed it between Minerva and myself. Minerva took out her wand, elevated, and moved her chair a few inches to the left. This gave Mary room but also landed Minerva’s foot in my crotch. Her smirk grew along with an increased swelling of my own.
I let Minerva carry out almost the entire interview. The blood flow to my brain was severely depleted and I had enough on my plate to refrain from moaning and to keep still. I already knew we would hire her and Minerva went through the formalities but I could see she was pleased.
Mary invited us to remain for the second show and normally I would have declined but Minerva’s foot had wrecked havoc on my control and it was necessary to stay seated. I accepted after receiving Minerva’s wicked nod and wondered what else she had up her sleeve.
If I had paid closer attention I may have noticed that the tension in the room wasn’t exclusively sexual. It took the entire second show before I could safely rise up and leave. I should have remained.
The following morning The Daily Prophet, our wizarding newspaper, had headlines announcing the death of Donald Stanley, owner of the Blue Note Club.
