Phineas' lip curled in disdain as he observed her through narrowed eyes. The late summer sun cast long shadows through the stained glass of his office, where he'd insisted on conducting this initial meeting rather than letting the new Defense Professor settle in first. Power plays were so essential with new staff.

"I see the Ministry has sent us another... appointment. I am Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black. Though I'm sure you were already aware of that fact." A thin smile stretched across his face, not reaching his haughty blue-gray eyes.

He made no effort to rise from behind his ornate desk. The portraits of previous headmasters watched with interest as he deliberately let the silence stretch uncomfortably. The scent of orange blossoms and cloves lingered in the air, mingling with the mustiness of ancient tomes.

"One hopes your qualifications exceed those of our previous professor who had the audacity to simply vanish mid-term."

His fingers drummed against the polished wood as he studied her appearance with calculated criticism. Everything from her robes to her bearing would be scrutinized and found wanting - he had already determined this before she had even set foot in his school. The corners of his mouth twitched beneath his precisely groomed facial hair.

"Scrope!" he called sharply, and his house-elf appeared with a crack. "Bring me a cup of tea. Earl Grey, one sugar, dash of cream." He didn't bother asking if she wanted a cup.

Not that he would offer her one. Phineas did not want this new professor thinking they would become... friends!

"Now then, I trust you understand that Hogwarts maintains certain standards. We cannot have our students exposed to questionable influences or... progressive ideologies."

Especially now, he thought, recalling the growing whispers of change in the wizarding world. Mudbloods demanding more rights, traditional values being questioned – it was enough to turn his stomach.

His eyes glinted as he leaned forward slightly, shadows playing across his angular features. "The position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor requires particular discretion. One wouldn't want to give impressionable young minds the wrong ideas about what constitutes 'dark' magic, now would we?"

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across his office, highlighting the silver strands at his temples.

"The students will arrive in three days. Your quarters have been prepared in the Faculty Tower." He picked up his cup of tea and took a dainty sip. "Scrope will show you the way."

A dismissal, clear as crystal.

But as the new professor turned to leave, Phineas felt a peculiar tightness in his chest. Something about her disturbed the carefully ordered world he'd built around himself. He didn't like it one bit.

"And Professor?" His voice cut through the air like a knife. "Do try not to disappear."