Remy smiled contentedly as she collapsed on the sqaushy couch the staff room offered to it's select members. It was the first day of school, her first full day back in her old school after the comfortable night. The clock on the wall read ten thirty, and she'd just got in from lecturing her new students on their new timetables, and exam results. As head of Ravenclaw house she was responsible for the distribution of timetables to the OWL and NEWT students and to overlook their grades. Thankfully, being the house it was, most of the students had achieved their expected grades and she hadn't had much work to do, apart from the obligitary, 'What are you planning to do with your life after this? So what subjects will you take?' questions. Thankfully; except for one.

Juliette Black, one of the trio legendary at Hogwarts for fighting- including the Chosen one himself, Neville Longbottom, was in her house. It was something Remy didn't understand. She knew she would be in Ravenclaw because she had not a scrap of heroics in her, but Juliette seemed willing enough to put her life on the line for her friends and for justice. Obviously, however, the wit and sense of scholarship was stronger in her than the bravery that shone. So she had quite high hopes for her midget student.

Now, however, it was time for a coffee before her first class after the morning interval. Remy set down her chained Chanel bag and her navy swing jacket and walked over to the cafetiere. It seemed to be magic, she was certain- or just muggle mechanics without electrical means (for she knew it would be ridiculous to put electronic widgetry into a cafetiere. She poured herself a mug (thankfully not the goblets they drank cold drinks out of) and walked over to the sofa, noting the quiet in the staff room; not another teacher was there. Was the fact she was there a bad thing? Did it show the other teachers were somewhat more dedicated than she was?

The answer for Remy was probably yes, but if she was going to keep this job- which was possibly for life- she would do it on her terms, not the terms of anyone else. She made it to the sofa and gracefully folded her legs under her, kicking off her high heeled shoes so they landed in a small pile at the edge of the rug which crept up, nearly connecting with the sofa. A small smile crept onto her lips, she was warm and happy- the first time she'd felt so in a job. Ana was safe, down in the kitchen with the kindly house elves during the working day. A maternal urge almost made her snap to her feet and go visit her offspring immediately, but she had to stop. She trusted the house elves implicitly and admired them. They would keep her daughter safe, no matter what. Besides, she'd seen her just this morning- the happy face of a toddler enjoying the new, colourful surroundings of the head of Ravenclaw's private office and adjoining rooms. She almost cooed at the memory- so amazed she was that she and that upmost twat could have produced something so wonderous, enchanting and amazing.

Abandoning the thought unwilligly, Remy sipped her coffee- one sugar, black- and reached into her bag shakily, trying not to spill the dark liquid onto her silken dress, and pulled out her copy of The Great Gatsby- her favourite muggle book, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Having studied muggle studies at university she'd been given a reading list of famous and great muggle novels, which she had all but devoured. She'd read it before anyway, when at home in the summer with her parents, her father always indulged her in his normal world, including giving her his favourite literature. Being the hopeless romantic she had been at the time, it immediately became her favourite and now it served to act at how a love could fail, and it always reignited that small candle of hope in her heart. The hope that it would happen again to her.