predation (alexandra)

[MONA CHARBONNEAU!]

It was approximately seven-thirty in the evening, and Mona Charbonneau had taken her seat at the professor's table at the head of the Great Hall some thirty odd minutes beforehand. Students were seated at four long tables for her and the others to survey, food appearing on golden chalices and serving dishes as if out of thin air. Long since had they scarfed down the last of the meats, puddings, and vegetables doused in gravies, and a bit of something sweet was now in front of the collective school. Treacle tarts, cakes, biscuits, trifles with toffee sauce, crumbles and pots of coffee, tea, and chocolate... just about everything imaginable that was remotely sweet.

Mona was not normally the type of woman to indulge herself, eating light to keep herself fit and fitting into her clothes. But, tonight, she was feeling lucky, almost dirty. She had her position as the Arithmancy professor for nearly ten years now, acquiring it through her own skills and passion for the subject as well as her 'pedigree'. Although she was conceived under the notion that her mother and father were both pure of blood despite her mother's muggle taint, Mona inherited that leaning towards trickery. As far as the Ministry of Magic was concerned, she was a pureblooded witch from France, schooled at Beauxbatons, and fully qualified.

As far as she was concerned, ten years of successful hiding deserved her a bit of a treat.

"A slice of treacle tart wouldn't hurt," she purred as she lifted a piece from the round, "I heard that this was Harry Potter's favorite food. A funny thing, it still being served here. I figured the bloodsnobs would have whipped the elves in to making sure this treat was never seen by the students again..." Her lean arm, peeking from the sleeve of a white sweater, pulled the piece to her plate, and she took a dollop of cream from a pot and placed it neatly next to the generous portion. She grinned, eyes narrowing. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, but her robes were still on the thicker side, to counter the chill and draft of the castle. It being November, the weather now was quite frigid, wind howling outside the castle with snow flurries and leaves caught in the air coming from dark clouds.

Through the reaching and conversing, she would keep her head high, chin raised. She was a proud woman, and no one was to make her look up to them. No one.

[PROFESSOR ALEXANDRA SNAPE !]

Seven-thirty pm, ten years after the war had ended. Ten years since Harry Potter's death. Ten years since the Dark Lord had risen to his rightful place of power. Ten years since the mudbloods had been taught their places under the heel of those with pure blood. Those were the positive aspects of this, the decade anniversary year. As for one Alexandra Snape, there were also painful things which had transpired. Eight years, since she had quit drinking; the two after the war being blurry and liquor-soaked. Eight years, since she had begun teaching. Eight years since she had faced her haunting memories.

And one decade, since she had held her father as he died, and then buried him with her own two hands mere hours afterwards.

Alex blinked, schooling her expression blank before she could be seen with her morbid and painful thoughts written across it. She was a proud woman, and as such would not allow any to see her emotions. She would deal with the fact that she could now only see her father in his portrait at her Spinners End home, and in the small one she kept on her bedside table. She would deal with her own memories. She would keep to herself, how hard it was not to burst into tears every morning, when she looked into her mirror and saw herself in those same black robes - her father's eyes staring back at her, from a face so like his own.

And there she went again, letting her emotions rule her. Steeling her iron will, and clamping down hard upon her feelings, the tall redheaded woman sipped at her tea, to try and calm her nerves. She didn't have much taste for sweets, and so didn't indulge in them. She had also eaten little, as she was often wont to do. She had battled with eating disorders during her teen years, and now simply fixed herself very small, yet slightly more filling meals during her breaks throughout the day. A such, she didn't eat much at mealtimes. Simply put, she feared that if she were to deviate from what was working to keep her vices in check, that she would find herself slipping back down into the abyss that was anorexia.

It had almost swallowed her whole once; she would never allow anything to do so again. As said, Alex was a proud woman, and so would not bend her will to her own mental instabilities ever again.

[MONA CHARBONNEAU!]

Mona took a spoonful of the tart and nudged it against the dollop of cream before sliding the spoon into her mouth, shutting her eyes. Ah, this was heaven. A pure, golden and white baked sliver of heaven, right on her silver spoon and now in her mouth. Crust melting, sugar crystals scraping against her tongue, the sweetness of the treacle washing down her throat, tempered only a little by the cool cream. And to fathom, that she had many more bites of this dessert to experience? This same feeling, of total satisfaction, fully chuffed and proud and enjoying every second of it... there was simply nothing like it!

Setting her spoon down, she took her mug of after-dinner coffee and took a sip from the top. Feeling in quite the conversational mood, she turned to the professor on her right; a red-haired woman in dark robes sipping on tea. Well, to each their own, she supposed, but that certainly was not the most... entertaining activity during such a feast. If she was not mistaken in her memory, this was the second Professor Snape, head of Potions at the school. Both subjects they taught had in common numbers, but besides that there were little similarity.

"Professor Snape," Mona started, voice cheery but retaining that elegant and mature air, "How was your day today? Have not heard much from your side of the castle lately." In truth, Mona more closely associated herself with Ravenclaws than Slytherins, and teaching those lot proved to be quite a hassle.

[PROFESSOR ALEXANDRA SNAPE !]

Alex's black gaze traveled from her cup to meet the gaze of the woman seated beside her. In truth, she had never made much of her fellow professors, and had also never made much attempt to get to know them. She preferred her solitary dungeons, only associating with her students - if one could all it associating - when discipline was needed. She tried not to favor her Slytherins too much, but would let them slide with little things. Yes, she knew it went directly against her ideals, but... Being slightly less lenient than past Slytherin Heads of House would perhaps lessen the innate arrogance in her charges.

If memory served, this blonde woman, with her striking grey eyes and almost regal features, was the arithmacy professor. Again, if memory served, her surname was Charbonneau. Alex cared not for the woman's given name, and doubted the blonde cared for hers, with the way she had addressed her. One red brow rose in just slight derision. How had her day been? Did the blonde actually think Alex thought she cared? But, of course, as always, Alex could hear her father's voice in the back of her mind, chastising her for her actions. You should at least keep things civil... No need to cause too much trouble, though it goes against our Slytherin nature somewhat.

"One does not often hear from the Ravenclaws, either, Professor Charbonneau," Alex said simply, her voice sounding much as her father's had. Though a bit lighter, it was still the same slightly husky, silk-covered-steel tone of the first Professor Snape. "As to my day... It was quiet, as usual." She made sure that she didn't give any indication as to her emotions, keeping her face and eyes neutral. She didn't see much point in conversing with this woman, but she would, for the sake of keeping the peace and civility.

If one were to say Alex was a slightly anti-social person, one would have been very close to the mark.

[MONA CHARBONNEAU!]

"Quiet can be good, from both my Ravenclaws, your Slytherins, and the rest of the castle," Mona replied, with more smoothness and control in her voice, tilting her head towards the red-head and grinning. Mona Charbonneau had never considered Alexandra Snape to be someone who she could make friends with; the name, really, spoke for itself. The Frenchwoman did not step foot into England during the ruling of the former and elder Snape as Headmaster of Hogwarts, but instead was spectator to the second war from across the channel. In all honesty, she knew of Severus Snape only through his connection to Harry Potter and the portrait that hung in the Headmaster's Office.

"To tell you the truth, Professor Snape," she continued after another delicate sip of her coffee, biting and dark, "Today was not quite as... quiet, for myself. Had sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors and seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws today, and they more were antsy than the first years. I know Arithmancy is not the most... exciting of subjects, but the winter holiday is eating away at their concetration by the day." She chuckled warmly, remembering her own excitement at the onset of December and Christmas holidays. Despite her calm and concentrated demeanor, she would stare out the window in her classroom, admiring each passing snowflake and everything that it meant. Going back home sure did stink, but staying over at a friend's house drinking warm cocoa and just relaxing fireside... there was nothing like it.

"Your Slytherins behaved today," she added, with a wink, "Were quite professional, other than the occasional paper bird or shooting off of red and green sparks from their wands." In her classes, there was a distinct rarity of muggleborn and halfblood discrimination. They had not need to cast curses at each other, no hexing to make teeth larger or inflict injury. It was all numbers, calculations, puzzles... that everyone could solve with the proper formulas. In her classroom was an equal playing field, and she used that to her own advantage. In her lectures she slipping in words of equality, working alongside one another... the other professors were very much aware of this and could sometimes find her insufferable as a result.