Shrugging on his robes, Emmett Markham checked himself in his wife's full length mirror that stood in the corner of the minimally decorated bedroom. The double bed, with cream sheets neatly folded back, took up most of the space available, sitting comfortably in the centre of the room. To the left of the headboard was the door, and to the right was a polished, redwood wardrobe. Opposite the wardrobe was the mirror which had a heavy, bronze frame. A pink armchair was tucked away into the last remaining corner, its colour complementing the redwood wardrobe and pink pillows nicely. The decoration was all Ruth's doing: Emmett wasn't exactly the best interior designer. His strengths lay in writing, which he did in his student down the hall. And transfiguration, obviously.
Once he was happy that her was smart enough and presentable, he apparated straight to Hogsmead from his bedroom. He'd learnt that when muggles saw 54 year old men in what they thought of as 'graduation robes', they tended to get a bit confused. After the incident when a woman had approached him in mid-winter once and told him graduation wasn't for another few months, so even professors didn't need to wear their robes in December, he'd learnt not to go out in his wizarding attire. Because of this he'd also discovered that apparating from his bedroom was a lot easier than trying to find a hidden corner somewhere in Central London whee he could Apparate from without being seen by muggles.
The man had a meeting in Hogsmead, in the Three Broomsticks to be exact. It was a meeting of the teachers, he supposed it was to discuss the upcoming term. While not exactly excited, Emmett was looking forward to when he would be returning to Hogwarts for the first time since graduating. However, he knew it would invite some unwelcome memories to make an appearance again. As well as Hogwarts being his school, the grounds were also the place where his dad had died. It was the place that he hadn't been at to save his loved one. It was the place where innocent blood was spilt, and it was his fault. When his father had first died, Emmett had beaten himself up about it daily. He was a Ravenclaw for goodness sake! He should've been clever enough to figure out that his dad needed him! He should have been their to protect him! As time went on however, the weary man had locked away the memories in a far corner of his mind. He'd distracted himself and stopped thinking about his dad, but now that was about to change. Now he was here, he would have no choice but to remember.
The former Ravenclaw checked his watch, staring at the silver object through his thick-rimmed glasses and clarifying that he was on time to the minute. Attempting to put on an air of authority, he strode confidentally through the door and his warm brown eyes scanned the room, searching for a friendly face, fellow professor or just an empty table. Spotting an almost empty table in the corner of the room, Emmett weaved his way through the maze of seats to where it's occupant sat, alone. The brown haired man looked younger than Emmett, and Emmett seemed to get the impression that he was waiting for someone. Quickly counting the available seats on the table Emmett assured himself that anyone arriving later to meet the man would be able to fit on as well (even if it was a group of people), and the he could always leave, or the man could tell him to go away. It was worth a try at least, and after a last quick scan of the room, the former Ravenclaw clarified that it was the only seat.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" He asked, gesturing to the straight backed, polished wood chair. Sliding into it, he smiled warmly at the man opposite him.
"My name is Emmett Markham. I'm going to be the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts next term." He said, holding out his hand to shake.
