We were seen together more and more often – me and Professor Longbottom. Or just Neville. We were the youngest of the staff, and soon, we discovered that we had some mutual friends, so we could get along really well. It was no surprise that soon the strange despodency that had already begun to get over me was now passed. Once again, I started feeling at home and when I wrote a letter to my family, I could tell them with all honesty that I was really delighted I had decided to come back to Hogwarts.

I have to admit that I had been missing this all the time: those four-poster beds, meals in the Great Hall, the hum of conversations in the corridors, old, creaking suits of armour. Even in my dejection, when I tried to be honest to myself, I realised that I would never, ever want to get back to the Muggle world. Yes, I know that the Muggle world was the one I had been brought up in. I should have felt at home there... but it was not like that. However, I believe that no wizard who had a wand in his hand at least once could ever feel good pretending to be a Muggle.

I had not managed to achieve anything special as a teacher now. However, I got to that point when the students no longer could find anything funny in my name. Moreover, when I strolled down the corridors I could hear unpleasant comments about me less and less often. Nevertheless, this was not without any victims: in the second week of the school year three Slytherins, one Gryffindor and one Ravenclaw already had a detention with me. I did not really want to do that, well, I did not even know how to punish them, but Neville advised I should use this kind of punishment.

"If you don't show them you're not the one to mess with," he said, "it won't ever be finished. You have to show them that in spite of your age, you are the teacher, not an older friend. You have every right to punish them."

When he saw I was hesitant, he added, "Yes, I know, I didn't want to do this, either. I thought there was another way out... you know, a milder one. One that would make the students both like and respect me. But there's none. A couple of Slytherins and Gryffindors were punished as an example, when I caught them putting dragon dung into my gloves... they were a bit sulky for a couple of weeks, but finally they let it go. As of late they even told me that they liked Herbology the most. If I hear something like that from Malfoy's son, I'll burst out laughing, I swear."

I smiled at him and nodded, and when I heard some taunt about my name and red hair for the next time, I made sure to give out some detentions (well, I have to admit they were some boring ones, since the delinquents had to rewrite blurred fragments of their colleagues' essays – but there was some laughter in it, anyways, when one of the Gryffindors found the name of his fellow convicted Slytherin in the header of the essay he was rewriting at that moment) – and for the next several weeks I was left alone.

Slowly, I began to get back my self-confidence. I was not back as a Ravenclaw anymore. I was a teacher whose job was not only to pour some knowledge about History of Magic into the students' heads, but also to educate them. And unfortunately, lots of wizarding families neglect the education of their children at home. Especially when they are those pure blood families.

Do not get me wrong; I did have some pure blood friends, and they really were wonderful people. Even now, as I got back to Hogwarts, I could notice some children bearing the names of old wizarding families. And they were honestly very polite people. Nevertheless, there were other people, the ones that breathed out insolence. I made it a point of honour to eradicate such a praxis. Maybe it was something personal, since I came from a Muggle family... though, I believed that it should be done.

It was exhausting, I have to admit, and after a couple of weeks I was already fed up. However, I did not want to give up so easily.

Sunny September was passed and we welcomed October; along with it, gusty winds intruded the castle grounds. Old windows moaned loudly, yet many students still got out of the building during the breaks or after the lessons – especially when one of the teams planned to train a bit.

Soon, I realised that I had not seen nor played a Quidditch match for a long time already; I wondered which Hogwarts team was now the best. As soon as Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had left the school when I had still been a student, there were two other Seekers: Bartholomew Weep, who turned out to be a complete mistake, so he was soon replaced by Apollonios Grimsworth. He was much better, but still not as good as The Boy Who Lived.

That was when our team managed to take the lead. We did not have a good Seeker, to be honest, but we did have three wonderful Chasers: Angelica Moore, one of them, was our Captain. And I was the Keeper. I believe I was not the worst. Well, I did let in some goals, but some of the ones I defended went down in history... at least the school's history.

I wondered who took the lead now, so I could not help but eagerly await the next match. However, it was supposed to take place in mid-November, so I had to be patient.

It was Wednesday afternoon when I, ignoring the wind biting the cheeks and exposed hands, left the castle. I put the collar on, like back then, when I had still been a student, and having pushed my hands deep into the pockets of my robe, I began strolling along the lanes, listening to the hum of conversations and outbursts of loud laughter amongst the students who surrounded me. Neville did not join me; I could see him planting some exeptionally hideous plants on the bed in front of one of the greenhouses. Already imagining the excitement in his voice at the moment of his telling me about them, I laughed quietly and turned right.

I did not even realise when I got to the parts of the school grounds where I could meet almost no-one. Not even a half of the afternoon break had passed, so I did not have to be afraid that I would be late for my own lessons, nevertheless, I could not help but feel a bit uncomfortable.

Soon, though, I heard someone's steps, and I looked around, deciding to leave if I was not welcomed there. The person passing me by, however, seemed to have not even noticed me. Her steps were fast and energetic, as always, her lips pressed together so hard that they created just a thin, horizontal line.

I was certain that Professor McGonagall was really worried. Wondering what could have caused it, I reached my hand out to her, but she, lost in her own thoughts, just passed by in complete silence and turned into the nearest path. Frowning a little, I followed her, ready to help her, if it turned out to be necessary.

Noticing that she came to a halt at some point, I stopped as well, making sure that no-one would be able to notice her. I had some strange feeling that I should not be there, but at the same time my curiosity simply did not let me turn back and leave.

Both of us waited like that for a couple of minutes, and I had already begun thinking that Professor would turn back and head to the castle when some hooded figure approached her and apparently nodded in greeting because soon McGonagall returned the gesture, saying something that sounded like "finally".

"I've already started worrying that you wouldn't come," she said, frowning even more; if she looked at me like that, I was sure I would just run away. Maybe that should have made me realise I was not allowed to be there and eavesdrop, but at the same time I could not force myself to move, knowing that if I made any noise, I would definitely be noticed.

"I was stopped by... urgent matters in London, Minerva," replied some cold voice, coming from beneath the hood. "Besides... I believe you are aware of the fact that being here does not give me any pleasure."

Something about this man's voice – because it was a man, for sure – made me want to cast a spell on him. However, I managed to control myself. Though, I did feel some satisfaction when I saw that McGonagall was smiling.

"Just like talking to you does not give me any pleasure," she responded, "but I am aware of the gravity of the situation."

"Let's talk business, then, shall we," snarled the man, moving nervously. I was under a strange impression that he was willing to ignore the gravity of the situation McGonagall mentioned. "I don't have all day."

I had never heard anyone addressing Professor McGonagall like that. I had always respected her a lot, therefore I could not help but feel irritated when I saw the way the stranger treated her. I realised I had a wand in my hand, my fingers clenched tightly around it, but I did not let myself to cast any nonverbal spell.

No, I have never heard this cold male voice, I thought when I tried to recognise the hooded person. It was someone whom I had probably never met before. However, he seemed to be some acquaintance of McGonagall's, though I would not call their relationship any kind of friendship.

"Are you completely sure it's him?" asked McGonagall, and now, I could hear a mixture of concern and uncertainty in her voice; it was a tone that surprised me entirely. It simply was not like this woman.

"Absolutely. You are not accusing us of incompetence, Minerva?" The man moved slightly once again, but McGonagall did not let herself get provoked. She was still staring firmly at her interlocutor, until he continued. "It's him, no doubts. One of our men keeps following him... however, we cannot be too careless. I have a feeling he has already sensed us... and you know that it's not just any wizard."

McGonagall put her hands on her hips and cast her eyes down, lost in thoughts. Even from this point I could see her chest moving fast because of her heavy breathing. It seemed that this information did not make her happy.

"Don't stop. We have to be completely sure it's him... and that he won't get away form our grasp. And no-one can know what you are doing, is it clear?" She looked up at the man in front of her quite fiercely.

He, however, only laughed sarcastically.

"Do you really think we are idiots?" he asked, moving to the side. "We do know our job... and if I wanted to die, I know many other ways."

"I don't care about your life," responded McGonagall, and the muscles of her jaw twitched slightly. She was definitely irritated. "It's not that easy. If you make him angry, he might take his revenge here... and I am not going to let anyone hurt my students."

"Then you'll give your life for them," the man sneered once again, right before he turned back and left towards the Forbidden Forest, and McGonagall did not even try to stop him.

That was when I realised that I was an unwanted observer. If Professor passed by, she would definitely notice me...

"Here you are, Darcie!" I heard, and my heart jumped.

It was not, however, McGonagall's voice, so I probably should some kind of relief. I sighed and trying to pretend that nothing had happened, that I had not just been eavesdropping, I turned back towards the other.

"Neville," I replied and forced myself to fake a smile. "You seemed to be taking care of the plants..."

The man nodded, and a soft blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Did you see? Well, come with me, I'll show them to you, you definitely should take a closer look. I prepared them for the next classes with the third year..."

At least half of his words, even though they reached my ears, did not make it to my mind. However, it was a good moment to leave the spot where I had been standing until now. I could only nod and follow Neville, turning back just once to look over my shoulder, but when I did, McGonagall was already gone.