Late Friday evening within the confines of the Ministry of Magic seated inside a classroom are four individuals, two witches and two wizards. At present, the four proctors for the C.S.A.E. examination of Severus and Rowan Prince are finishing up the last of the grading for the two examinee's practical exams. With a loud sigh, Master Strauss puts down his quill and turns his tanned head from side to side. The tanned wizard with a scholarly air muttered, "Well, I'm glad that is over and done with."
The solemn figure of Master Linnaeus snorts in disdain. "I have just tested one of the finest minds of this century, and I am thrilled at having witnessed it," Master Linnaeus proudly declared. "I have no doubt that the young Severus Prince will become one of the foremost potion masters' of Great Britain but will become one of the youngest potion masters in history as well."
"That is without a doubt an undisputed fact," Master Strauss chuckled causing Master Linnaeus to merely send a scowl his way.
"Well, the sister isn't bad either," interjected, the curly silver-haired, Madam Berk. "Rowan Prince has quite an analytical mind and though lacking in some areas in comparison to her brother she exceeds him in others. Why even you, Master Linnaeus were entranced with her results during her Herbology exam."
Master Linnaeus has the grace to beam with pride upon remembering. "She managed to tame a Snargaluff, which I could have sworn was impossible."
"My point exactly," Madam Berk said with a great deal of satisfaction.
"True," Master Strauss pensively agreed. "And without a doubt, their scores prove that the two of them are quite intelligent. What do you think, Madam Marchbanks? You've been rather quiet on the subject."
The old witch by wizarding standards glances up with still bright, and rather sharp eyes. Madam Marchbanks leans back in her chair and thoughtfully says, "They are Prince's and as recent revelations have shown, they are indeed the descendants of the two most famous Slytherins of all time, Salazar Slytherin himself, and Merlin Ambrosius.'
'Though infamous without a shadow of a doubt, Salazar Slytherin was a brilliant wizard and an equally brilliant Potion's Master. And as for Merlin Ambrosius, he is the most revered wizard of all time. Merlin is recorded as the most powerful wizard in our history and a fierce protector of muggles. Though a contradiction at times, the Prince family itself embodies the worst and best of their forefathers." Though Madam Marchbanks tactfully did not mention the Prince family Percussor heritage."
Madam Marchbanks paused before continuing, "Either way, great things are to be expected from Severus and Rowan Prince. And only with time can we know whether that will be good or bad."
Master Strauss' lips twitch into a smile. "Maybe that is true, but from what I've observed, they are a good lad and lass. A trifle, cold, yes, but they are Slytherins. And although the Prince's tend to appear as cold fish on the outside, they really are rather warm on the inside."
"Must you always be so optimistic, Master Strauss?" Master Linnaeus huffed.
Master Strauss chuckles in reply, "I am a Hufflepuff, Master Linnaeus. It is in my nature to try to see the good in others, my cunning Slytherin friend."
Master Linnaeus loudly sniffs in reply as Madam Berk teasingly says, "Master Strauss must we bring houses into everything?"
"Always such a Gryffindor, Madam Berk," Master Strauss teased back.
Madam Berk wrinkles her nose at him in distaste. "A Ravenclaw, actually," Madam Berk loftily declared. "And what of you, Madam Marchbanks, a Gryffindor?"
Madam Marchbanks lets out a loud guffaw. "No, Madam Berk, I am very much a Ravenclaw. Though that wretched old hat did consider putting me in Gryffindor," Madam Marchbanks growled with a roll of her eyes. "As if I would have lasted a single day in that outrageously loud house without going mad and poisoning those loud louts within a fortnight!"
There are loud chuckles from the rest of them as Master Strauss says, "I must admit that Gryffindors tend to be a loud bunch the whole lot of them."
Glancing at the late hour, Madam Marchbanks pointedly says, "These old bones of mine aren't as young as they used to be and need to rest." There are murmurs of agreement as they rise and collect their graded exams that need to be registered.
Despite the late hour, the middle-aged female clerk with cropped hair and her old boss is still awake in the C.S.A.E. Office. The old wizard pushes up his thick spectacles and accepts each graded exam and records the grades. The female clerk already had an official letter written that only required the recipient's names. She quickly adds the name before preparing the envelopes in which the results and letter will be sent out.
Having finished recording the official transcript, the old wizard tamps the parchment with the official C.S.A.E. seal and says, "A copy will be sent to the examinees and to Hogwarts. A third copy will be kept and filed here at the Ministry of Magic. Thank you, Madam Marchbanks, Madam Berk, Master Linnaeus, and Master Strauss for your hard labor. May you all have a good evening." The two witches and two wizards nod their thanks, before making their way out.
The female clerk takes the official transcript and places it with the written letters sealing the letter with the official wax seal of their office. The old wizard says, "Go on home after mailing those letters. I'll close up the office here in a bit."
"Yes, sir," the female clerk gratefully said, before gathering her things, and quickly making her way out of the office towards the mailroom to have an owl deliver the two letters to be delivered to the same exact destination.
Rising to his feet, the old man carefully files the transcript into the system, before putting on his thick warm robes. Certain that all the candles had been put out, the old wizard takes out a gleaming golden key and locks the door behind him as he leaves. His footsteps quickly fade away leaving nothing but silence and darkness.
Sometime after simpering footsteps can be heard as a stout figure tries to open the door. Cursing the figure points its wand at the door and irritably says, "Alohomora!"
A shrill shriek is heard as the spell rebounds back and sends the figure flying back against the wall. Angrily hissing in extreme vexation, the stout figure angrily stomps away in the darkness leaving behind no indication of their presence except for a black bow that had fallen to the floor.
Later that night, the Magical Maintenance crew would come upon it and think nothing of it. They'd simply toss the black velvet bow into the trash bin. After all, they had a job to do and didn't have time to wonder much less ponder about every strange item that they found within the Ministry of Magic. If they did, they'd never get anything done at all!