Chapter Text
Working together is going to be a problem.
She is going to be a problem.
The morning sun peeked through the canopy of trees above Diana, casting dappled golden light along the winding path. Dressed in lightweight robes, with her well-worn dragonhide boots hugging her feet, she hiked up the hill behind Hogsmeade with light steps, her pine wood shoved through a bun on top of her head. Since she had never been to Merlin's Cave before, she couldn't Apparate there, but she didn't mind the hour-long walk. Out here in the lush green forest – with ferns unfurling in delicate spirals all around her, mosses clinging to rocks, and wildflowers covering the forest floor – she felt a profound sense of peace. As if she was getting lost and finding herself at the same time.
A couple of bright blue Jobberknolls flew above her as she finally reached the crest of the path. Emerging from the trees, Diana saw Merlin’s Cave up ahead, tucked away within the rugged cliffs of the Scottish Highlands. The view from up here was breathtaking. Hogsmeade village was nestled at the foot of the hill, the rooftops painted amber and gold in the morning sunlight. Beyond the village, fields and meadows stretched out, until they were swallowed up by the sprawling expanse of the dark and misty Forbidden Forest. Across the valley, Hogwarts Castle stood majestically on the cliffside, its spires and turrets reaching toward the blue sky, the Great Lake glittering below. In just a month, Diana would be stepping into those hallowed halls as a professor, a thought made her both excited and incredibly anxious, but for now she had several uninterrupted weeks to study Merlin’s Cave.
The entrance was almost hidden amidst craggy rock formations and surrounded by lush foliage. With a sense of reverence, Diana stepped inside, the temperature instantly dropping as she was engulfed in shadow and stone. A chamber stretched before her, its walls adorned with an intricate tapestry of ancient runes. To the untrained eye, they would be mere carvings etched into the stone, but to Diana, they held a bunch of secrets. Her fingers traced the contours of the runes, each touch a connection to the past. She pulled her wand out of her bun, letting her hair tumble down around her face, and lit it with a gentle flick, bathing the cave in a soft glow. The markings were mostly Elder Futhark and Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, so many small symbols that she didn’t know where to start reading at first.
There was no end. No beginning.
Diana set her backpack down. It was time to get to work. She flicked her wand with a practiced movement of her wrist, performing the Enchantment Revealing Charm. This spell was designed to reveal the status of a rune or a set of runes – whether they were magical or mundane, active, inactive, or damaged. Though the spell itself was simple, dealing with complex enchantments required immense concentration and precision. Diana focused intently as she cast the spell, waiting for the telltale glow of the runes. But nothing happened. Every single rune within the cave remained inert, devoid of any magical response. Diana bit her lip. The lack of reaction could mean several things: the magic might have been drained from them, the runes could have been purposely deactivated, or they might have been damaged over time. It was also possible that the runes were never magical to begin with. That was, after all, the leading theory over at the Ministry.
Undeterred, Diana began casting a series of activation charms. She started with the basic ones: Incantare and Incantatem Revelio. Both spells fizzled out, leaving the runes unchanged. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she moved on to the more intricate charms. She cast Aperio Enchantio and Revivisco, both of which were ancient spells designed to reactivate dormant magic. Still, there was no response. Her mind raced with possibilities. Were the runes too old, their magic long since faded? Or had Merlin himself woven protections so complex that even she, with her advanced knowledge, struggled to penetrate them?
Her determination only grew with every failed attempt to reactivate the runes. Soon she delved into the more obscure charms she had learned from rare texts and her own experimentation. Excito Magia and Vitae Runae were among the most powerful she knew. Yet, even these failed to produce any results. No flicker, no spark. Nothing. Soon she had worked through every activation charm she knew, from the fundamental to the arcane, without anything happening at all - except for her feeling a little depleted from all the magic she had used. This had been the expected outcome, sure, but Diana couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment nonetheless. Then again, if it had been that easy, the cave's secrets would have been uncovered by other magiarcheologists or runologists a long time ago.
Not that they hadn’t tried. Over the centuries, many witches and wizards had come to Merlin’s Cave, each hoping to be the one to solve the mystery of the runes. Yet when their research led nowhere, most of them concluded that there was nothing magical about the cave after all. That was the problems with witches and wizards, Diana had always thought. They so rarely looked beyond the surface. Not like the Muggles did. Muggles weren’t necessarily more intelligent than wizards, but they possessed a more scholarly culture overall. Diana sometimes thought magic made people complacent because it was easy and practical. The Muggles, on the other hand, continued to piece together theories and make new discoveries, without the aid of a single spell. They explored, they experimented, and they innovated.
And some of their creations were truly remarkable. Like the lightbulb, something that illuminated a room by using this obscure thing called electricity. Or the airplanes; giant metal birds that could carry people across continents. And then there was the refrigerator, a large metal box that kept food and drinks cold without the use of a single cooling charm.
In Diana's opinion, the magical community relied too much on what was already established. As if everything they needed already existed. As if, when something couldn’t be done with a known spell or a potion, it couldn’t be done at all. Few people delved deeper into the more intricate workings of magic itself, let alone ancient magic. This traditional approach meant that magical innovation had slowed considerably. In fact, in recent years, only a handful of witches and wizards had made any significant magical discoveries. One of them was of course the French wizard Nicolas Flamel, the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone. Yet Flamel never shared how he managed that miraculous alchemical feat before he passed away, something that was incredibly annoying to a curios mind like Diana. It was probably for the best though, considering the disastrous consequences if everyone had access to unlimited gold and were able to live forever. The economy would collapse, and the natural order of life and death would be completely destroyed.
So yes, it was probably wise of Flamel to have shown such discretion and restraint during his unnaturally long life.
Then there was Flamel’s close friend and partner, Albus Dumbledore - soon to be Diana's boss - who had also distinguished himself over the decades, not just by his impeccable mastery of known magic, but by pushing the boundaries of what was considered possible. His discovery of the Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood, along with his work on spellcrafting, had further cemented his position at the forefront of magical advancement.
Unbidden, Diana's thoughts turned to Severus, who had constantly tweaked and improved potion recipes when they were in school. His innovations weren't limited to potions either. He had invented his own spells, something only the most skilled, magically mature witches and wizards were able to do. People like Dumbledore. Already at fourteen, Severus had created a spell called Levicorpus, a nonverbal jinx that pulled the victim into the air by their ankle. At first, it was just a bit of fun, a private thing. But soon, word had spread, and everyone at Hogwarts was using it, including James, Sirius, Remus and Peter. Even now, Diana could easily recall the anger in Severus's dark eyes when he realized his personal creation had become a schoolyard prank. For Severus, his magical work had been deeply personal, something not meant for the magical community at large - and certainly not for the Marauders. Each potion, each spell, was a part of him, crafted with care and precision. The widespread use of Levicorpus had felt like a betrayal, a violation of his skill and creativity.
Diana shook herself out of that particular line of thought, not wanting to dwell on her childhood friend turned Death Eater turned Potions Master. Kneeling down on the hardpacked dirt floor of the cave, she examined the runes more closely, running her fingers over the ancient symbols, feeling the cool stone beneath her skin. Each symbol was beautifully carved with a precision that spoke of ancient mastery – a long-lost art. She could almost hear the whispers of the past, urging her to keep going, to dig deeper. And perhaps she had been going about this the wrong way. Perhaps she needed to be more subtle.
Magic always left a mark, a footprint that could be detected if you knew how to look for it. The key was mindfulness. It was a skill that, much like runology itself, required time and patience to learn.
Diana remembered sitting cross-legged on her bed in their cozy Hufflepuff dormitory, the late afternoon sunlight casting a gentle glow across the large room. Over the weekend, she had been reading a book she got from the Restricted Section, after procuring a permission slip from Professor Flitwick. It was filled with detailed descriptions of the subtle differences in magical signatures that only the most competent of witches and wizards could detect. Fair to say, it had captivated Diana instantly, just like she had known it would.
In front of her on the quilted blanket, she had three identical quills. Tonks had conjured one of them – no small feat, since conjuring wasn't on their Transfiguration curriculum until next year – but the other two were real. Tonks, now sitting on the foot of her bed, had agreed to assist in this impromptu experiment before they headed down to the Halloween feast. Her spiky hair was orange and black for the occasion. Diana closed her eyes, focusing her mind to sense the magical essence of each quill, while Tonks swiftly swapped them around.
“You know,” Tonks had said, her voice tinged with playful mockery, “you’ve done some nerdy shit before, but this, this is next level. How the hell didn’t the Hat put you in Ravenclaw?”
“Ask that blasted hat,” Diana replied. The question of her House placement had always been a bit of a sore spot for her. Despite her keen interest in academics and her creativity, she had ended up in Hufflepuff. A fact that she didn't mind now, since it meant she shared dorms with Tonks and Amelia. Not to mention Professor Sprout was their Head of House. But everyone would be slightly miffed by the hat telling them they were a loner who needed some friends, whether it was true or not. She took a sip from her glass of Elvish wine on the nightstand, a small indulgence that Tonks had managed to sneak into the school after their last Hogsmeade visit. The rich, slightly sparkling liquid warmed her from within, making her feel less on edge.
Tonks took a sip from her own glass. “So how does this work?”
“I’m supposed to feel which one’s the magical quill,” Diana said. She extended her hand towards one of the quills, concentrating hard. “Is it this one?”
“No,” Tonks replied nonchalantly.
Diana moved her hand to the next quill. “This one?”
“Yep,” Tonks had said, popping the p. “But that was a fifty-fifty chance. It doesn’t tell us anything significant. The scientific method requires many trials.”
“The scientific method?” Diana asked curiously.
“Yeah,” Tonks replied. “It's this whole process the Muggles use to figure things out about the world. My grandad was a biologist, and he taught me about it. First, you make an observation about something and then ask a question you want the answer to. Then, you do some research and form a hypothesis. That's your best educated guess about what’s the answer. After that, you test your hypothesis with lots of experiments to make sure you’re right - that it's not just a fluke or an accident.”
"So,” Diana said, catching on, “we need to do this several times to make sure I can actually sense the magic and it's not just luck?"
"Exactly," said Tonks with an eager nod. "And you should write down everything. The steps you took, the results you got."
Diana nodded. "I like this."
"Yeah, the Muggles are pretty clever, contrary to what people like Avery and Mulciber go around saying," Tonks said. Her expression turned dark at the mention of the two older Slytherins that Severus had suddenly begun hanging out with. "They've had to figure out a lot of stuff without any magic, and they've come up with some brilliant ways to navigate the world. We could learn from them as much as they could learn from us. If it wasn't for the Statue of Secrecy."
“I know," Diana said. "Let's go again."
Diana had diversified her attempts after that, such as the time when she learned how to distinguish between a naturally black quill and one that had been made black with the Color-Changing Charm. Then, after graduating, she had been recruited into the Department of Magical Artefacts, where she also got lots of exposure to different types of magic and the delicate nuances between enchantments, along with the residual traces they often left behind. Her growing expertise made her an invaluable asset to the Ministry after only a short period of time – at the same time it meant her work became increasingly complex and demanding.
One of her earlier breakthroughs came when she successfully deciphered an incredibly intricate set of runes on a stone tablet. The runestone had looked ordinary, but there was something about it that Diana picked up on whenever she was close to it – a strange pull. She had spent hours cross-referencing the tablet's inscriptions with known ancient runes and enhancements, finally uncovering the tablet's extraordinary purpose: it had been an ancient Portkey, the first of its kind that had ever been discovered.
When activated, the Portkey transported Diana and some of her colleagues to a remote, forgotten ruin in the Scottish Highlands. It had clearly been someone's house once, now reduced to crumbling stone and overgrown vegetation. Her colleagues had been visibly disappointed, no doubt having hoped for something grander – something much more significant – but Diana found it very fascinating. There was a certain beauty in the realization that the very same magic she used daily, had once been used to bring someone home, several centuries ago. Standing in the ruins of the house, she had wondered about the people who had once lived there, what they were like, what they spent their days doing, and what was important to them.
That was her last project before the war quickly pushed her into warding.
Now, in the cool stillness of Merlin's Cave, Diana closed her eyes and focused closely on her surroundings, drawing in a couple of deep breaths. She could hear the rustle of leaves as the wind brushed through the tree branches outside, feel her hair tickle her jawline, smell the dirt of the cave floor, and feel the cool air against her face. She visualized the runes in her mind; their shapes and the patterns they created together. A shiver went down her spine, and she felt the hairs on her forearms stand up.
She had been right about there being magic here.
Twice, Diana walked around the cave, touching as much of the rough rock as she could, occasionally pausing, running her fingers backward and forward over certain runes, until finally she was certain. This was merely the antechamber, the entrance hall. Though the entrance was concealed, there was a way to penetrate the inner place – she just had no idea how.
Yet.
This is so exciting, Diana thought. She sat down on the dirt floor, with her legs stretched out in front of her, and opened her notebook, dipping her quill into ink. As the runes swirled through her mind, she began to reproduce them on parchment, meticulously copying each line and curve. Sure, this had been done many times before, last by Chattery Anderson, a famous magilinguist and runologist who had published his work about Merlin's Cave in 1981, but she trusted her own precision work better. Her own system. She supposed every scholar was a little bit like this.
Time flowed on, marked only by the shifting light inside the cave as the sun moved across the sky outside. Diana’s focus remained unbroken as she worked. She only took a break to eat the lunch she had packed with her. After jotting down the final rune in her notebook, she dried the ink with a tap of her wand, then packed up her things. Outside the cave, the sun had begun to set. A soft, rosy blush danced across the clouds and bathed the treetops and hillside in golden light. Across the valley, the windows of Hogwarts sparkled in the sunset. Taking one last look at the place that would soon become her home once more, Diana Apparated back to Hogsmeade.
Arriving in the main square of the charming all-wizarding village, she found herself surrounded by colorful shops and cottages. The buildings had thatched roofs and walls of either dark wood or honeyed stone. A street musician was playing a mellow, soothing song on his lute, while shopkeepers and vendors were beginning to wind down their day under the light from the floating lanterns. A group of children raced around as their parents did some last-minute shopping, their laughter ringing out as they played with enhanced magical bubbles. Across the cobblestoned square, a cute-looking couple paused to toss a knut into the fountain, no doubt making a wish as the gentle splash created ripples in the water. Diana crossed to the Three Broomsticks on the corner, the front door adorned with ivy and enchanted, twinkling lights. Stepping inside the lounge, she took a seat at the long, polished bar that stretched along one side of the low-ceilinged room.
“Welcome back,” said Madam Rosmerta, flicking her wand to clean some beer mugs. Rosmerta had been a barmaid while Diana was in school, but now she was the landlady, having purchased the popular inn from the previous owners a few years ago - using the heaps of tip money she had earned over the years, if town gossip was anything to go by. She was a curvy sort of woman with a very pretty face. Tonight she was wearing her signature green dress and white apron, her glossy brown hair styled in loose curls.
“Thanks,” Diana said. “I appreciate you pointing me in the right direction earlier.”
“Don’t mention it,” Rosmerta replied with an easy grin. “It’s been a long time since that cave got any visitors, let alone someone as esteemed as yourself. Most folks don't give it a second thought anymore."
"Not even the tourists?"
"No. They're not that interested, I reckon. No one has been able to figure out if there’s something hidden up there. A lot of people think the runes are just some random scribbles from a long lost time."
“Let’s see about that."
“Well, you can’t crack ancient puzzles on an empty stomach," said Rosmerta, chuckling heartily. "What can I getcha?”
“That mushroom stew sounds delicious.”
"A fine choice indeed," said Rosmerta approvingly. "One of our specialties. Want anything to drink with that?”
“Yes, please. What do you recommend?”
“Hmm.” Rosmerta looked her over. “You always struck me as a champagne kind of gal. Otherwise we just got in this nice craft beer – the Goblin Gold Ale. Made using a blend of rare magical grains and hops, though I have no idea which. They guard their beer recipes, the goblins – don’t really trust us wizards much.”
“The beer sounds great. Thank you.”
While Madam Rosmerta headed into the kitchen to place her order, Diana found herself a table in the corner, where she had a full view of the entire pub. It was crowded as per usual, with people enjoying their summer holidays. A few older wizards sat by the staircase leading up to the few bedrooms above the bar, playing with a deck self-shuffling playing cards while enjoying large glasses of brandy. One of them was smoking a long pipe, the thick smoke billowing up toward the beamed ceiling of the pub. At a table closer to Diana, a younger group was amicably discussing the exchange rate between wizard and muggle currency over a plate of fried pixie wings and bottles of butterbeer.
Diana was halfway through her bowl of stew when she heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see an unfamiliar wizard standing by her table. He wore a velvet top hat and a deep red scarf was gracefully draped around his neck. The buttons of his long black coat were undone, revealing a ruffled shirt and a waistcoat beneath, each of a different color and pattern that still seemed to complement each other. His long legs were strapped in dark leather and ended in black boots. All of those things should not have worked, but somehow, on this man, they did.
“Uh, hi,” she said politely, putting her fork down. “Can I help you?”
“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you, but – but are you Diana Fawley?”
“Oh, yes, yes I am.” Diana dabbed her libs with the napkin, feeling slightly caught off guard by this stranger. She offered him a tentative smile.
“I’m Amycus Carrow, I’m a huge fan of your books,” he said with a sheepish grin. His eyes were blue, like the ocean, but a hundred times clearer, almost translucent against his fair skin. “The one on hieroglyphic warding in Ancient Egypt was quite remarkable. You have a marvelous way evoking the past for your readers. And that’s coming from someone who absolutely loathed History of Magic in school.”
"Oh, I'm really glad you like them," Diana said, her smile turning more genuine.
So that’s why he had approached her. Her books on ancient runes and cultural symbols had made her a reluctant celebrity in the magiarcheology world, and last year her visibility had increased a hundredfold after her involvement in a widely publicized excursion to an old Viking village in Norway. Adding her family name into the mix, it now meant that lots of witches and wizards recognized her out in public.
“Congratulations on the interim Ancient Runes post as well,” Carrow continued with a slight grin. “I saw it in the Prophet last week.”
“Thank you.” Diana drained the rest of her ale. It was delicious, with a rich and earthy flavor, along with subtle notes of spice and caramel.
“Perhaps I can buy you another one?” said Carrow.
“Oh, I, uh—”
“That was too forward of me, wasn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish again. “My friends always tell me I’m not as charming as I think I am. It's just... I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Thought you might like some company. But forget I said anything.”
Diana hesitated. It had been a long time since she accepted a drink from a stranger, but she still had half her stew left and another beer did sound nice after a long day of hard work. Besides, Tonks always told Diana to put herself out there more. That was easy for Tonks to say though, Diana thought. Her best friend had always been a lot more fun and easygoing than Diana was, and could probably make friends with a dementor if she wanted to. Some of it had thankfully rubbed off on Diana over the years, but she had accepted a long time ago that, while she wasn’t antisocial by any means, she would never be the life of the party...
And she had been quiet for too long, overthinking this. Carrow looked like he was about to leave.
"Actually,” she said quickly, deciding to put her natural caution aside. “Another beer would be quite nice."
"Really? Great."
Diana watched him saunter over to the bar and place the order, returning to her table with another Goblin Golden Ale for her and an Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey for himself. Sitting down opposite her, he took off his top hat. His hair was dark, messy, with a few strands hanging over the light lines of his forehead.
"Thank you," Diana said gratefully, smiling up at him.
“So what brings you to Hogsmeade?” he asked her curiously, leaning back in his chair and looking at her with genuine interest. “There’s still quite some time left to the start of term.”
“I’m doing some research.”
“Into what?”
“Merlin’s work and life.”
“Oh, really?” Carrow looked very intrigued by that. “I don’t know much about Merlin myself, to be honest, other than the basics. That he was a powerful magician, a seer, and one of the first people to become an Animagus. Oh, and of course, that he was an advisor to King Arthur.”
“Sounds like you paid a little bit of attention in History, after all.”
“You got me,” said Carrow, looking a little caught by her observation. His expression quickly smoothed over. “But I’m afraid that’s where my meager knowledge ends. I’d love to hear more, though. Something tells me you’ll be a better teacher than good old Binns.”
“Not so sure about that,” Diana said. It was honest, not necessarily meant as a joke, but it still made him laugh. She smiled slightly and sipped her beer. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
“Well, he was one of the first students at Hogwarts,” Diana said. She could talk about Merlin for hours, but she wasn't entirely sure what Carrow would find interesting. “According to magically preserved records, he was sorted into Slytherin. He was a great student, mentored by the founders themselves - and did all sorts of incredible things after school as well. His creation of the Order of the Auroras was actually an early precursor to our modern Aurors.”
“I didn’t know that.” Carrow raised his brows, looking surprised. “So, then I guess you believe all that stuff about some hidden doorway inside that cave?”
“I do,” Diana said. “Merlin was terribly fond of puzzles and enigmas.”
“But what would he have hidden inside?”
“Who knows?" Diana said. "It could be anything.”
“Something powerful?”
“Maybe.” Diana took another sip of her beer, curiously regarding the man across from her. He seemed genuinely interested in what she was talking about, but she wasn’t about to divulge everything she had worked on for years to a total stranger.
Diana had always been fascinated by the very nature of magic, the complexities that laid beneath the surface of spells and charms. It was why, already at Hogwarts, she had spent countless hours in the library poring over ancient texts and obscure manuscripts, eager to learn about the lost and forgotten magics of the past. People had called it an obsession at times, her preoccupation with everything old, but she had never truly cared about people's opinions of her. Neither did she particularly care for those who made fun of other people's hobbies or passions. She believed that there was a layer to magic, raw and powerful, that modern wizards had barely scratched the surface of.
Something more ancient - something that, if her research was correct, Merlin had been studying before he died.
And that cave held the answers.
“But, and forgive me for asking, several people have attempted to figure it out before you,” Carrow said. “What makes you think you’ll be the one to find that doorway?"
Diana wasn’t offended by the question. She shrugged her narrow shoulders and cupped her glass mug in front of her. “I’m quite resourceful,” she replied.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it," said Carrow readily. "You were a Slytherin like Merlin then?"
“No.”
“Interesting," he said with a grin. "Then again, I suppose Slytherins don’t have monopoly on that particular character trait. I was a proud Ravenclaw myself.”
“Hufflepuff here.”
“Nice. Hard work pays off, eh? When did you graduate?”
“In seventy-eight.”
“Ah, so a few years after me,” said Carrow, rubbing his stubbled chin. "I finished in seventy-two."
“And now, what do you do?”
“I run Carrow Cauldrons,” he replied, as he took another sip of his whiskey. “It's on Vertic Alley. Took over from my dad a few years ago."
"Nice. I actually bought a cauldron from your shop when I was thirteen," Diana said. "My first one... well, to be completely honest, it melted in potions class" .
“What in Merlin’s name did you do?” said Carrow, mirth sparkling in his brown eyes as he regarded her from across the table.
Diana’s cheeks flushed. “Well, if you must know,” she said, “I was brewing a Strengthening Solution, but I added the powdered moonstone too quickly - I was distracted by something else, I guess, though I can't for the life of me remember what. The cauldron melted, and everyone at my table got covered in a sticky purple goo.”
Carrow chuckled, shaking his head in playful sympathy. “Sounds like quite the mess,” he said. “I can only imagine old Slughorn’s face.”
“Let’s just say he wasn’t too pleased,” Diana told him. She remembered how relieved she had felt that she had Potions with Ravenclaw that year, so that neither Lily nor Severus - the school's potion protégés - had been there to witness her disaster. “But luckily, he always liked me. He cleaned everything up with a flick of his wand and didn't deduct a single point. Which was good. I would have hated to screw up our chances of winning the Cup. We were going in for our fourth victory in a row.”
“Not a troublemaker then, I take it.”
“Let’s just say I never got caught.”
“Sneaky," Carrow grinned. "I like it. Any funny stories you want to share?”
“You first.”
“I’m afraid I was quite boring myself,” said Carrow with a shrug. “I didn’t even break curfew until my third year. I was too afraid to get caught by Filch and that blasted cat of his, or that I would run into Peeves.”
“Merlin,” Diana agreed. “Peeves was the worst.”
“He totally was.”
"I'm not looking forward to dealing with him again," Diana said. "He'll probably throw wet paper at me the moment I step foot inside the entrance hall."
"What do you look forward to then?"
Diana looked at him from across the table. It was a good question, and the truth was, she was most excited to finally meet Harry and to see how he was doing at Hogwarts. She wanted to get to know her godson after all these years. But that was too personal to share with someone she just met.
"I'm looking forward to teaching the students," she said, which was also true. "You know, helping a bunch of hormonal teenagers discover their potential and guide them through their formative years."
"How..."
"Boring?" Diana said dryly.
Carrow offered her a small smile. "I was going to say sweet."
"I'm not sure about that," Diana said, smiling ruefully.
"Ah, so you'll be a strict professor then?" Amycus said mischieviously. "Giving out lots of detentions."
"Only to the naughty ones," Diana said, taking another sip of her beer.
"Well, if they're anything like me, they'll find it hard to concentrate with such a beautiful professor in front of them," Carrow said, leaning in a little closer, his smile widening. His teeth were white and straight.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Carrow," Diana said playfully. Merlin, was she... flirting? Tonks would absolutely lose it if she could see Diana right now, no doubt making some sort of joke about how ridiculously bad Diana was at this whole thing. Still, trying counted, right? And she was trying, hoping he wouldn't catch onto the fact that she was way out of her comfort zone - hoping he would find her reservedness to be mysterious rather than off-putting. She actually did enjoy talking to him, and he was quite handsome. And funny. And complimentary.
"Don't I know it," said Carrow with a wink.
"So, did you always want to take over the family business?" she asked him, wanting to know a little bit more about him.
"Merlin, no," said Carrow, chuckling. "I wanted to be a professional Quidditch player for the longest time - I played Seeker for Ravenclaw for four years, and I was made captain when I was sixteen. Never in a million years did I think I would take over after my father. I always thought that was more my sister's kind of thing, but I reckon I found out later that my real passion is management."
"What about managing a business do you like the most?"
"Well," said Carrow thoughtfully. "I find that running a business is all about people, and I'm quite a good judge of character. I like to figure out what makes them flourish, what doesn't, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. What about you though? Did you always want to be a professor?"
Diana shook her head. "No, not at all. Teaching was never really part of my plan.”
"Cheers to the unexpected paths our lives take then," Carrow said, raising his glass in a toast.
"Cheers," said Diana, clinking her glass to his.
She drained her beer and Carrow - or Amycus, as he insisted she called him - bought her another one.
And if his eyes were getting bluer by the second, Diana refused to notice.