Still working on that title--girl!Harry
Jun. 8th, 2011 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drownedinlight We looked through all of them and we had settled on a female snowy owl when Dad and Lily finally entered into the store.
“Dad! Mum! Look at the owl we picked!” John exclaimed. Remus and Sirius were talking with the store owner about a cage and a stand while the snowy owl was perched on John’s shoulder. “He’s really good, I can already tell, and he’s going to be the best owl ever!”
“John, the owl’s a girl!” I told him, giggling a little.
“Don’t correct your brother,” Lily snapped at me.
“Actually, male snowy owls are pure white, the females have black markings like this lovely lady right here,” the store owner said. “The little lady had it right.”
“You win everything!” John said with a smile as he flicked my nose. “I think you’ll be going into Ravenclaw for sure.”
“All right well, Mr. and Miss Potter that will be seventeen, four, ten totally for the treats, cage, stand, wrist guards, and of course the owl herself,” the owner told us.
“Well, Harriet give the man his money.” John and I looked up at Lily curiously, because we had already agreed to split the cost and had begun counting the money out of our individual pouches. I shot a look to Dad, then to John, who quietly put his money away, and counted out eighteen galleons.
“Keep the change, please,” I said, as Sirius and Remus shrunk the stand, and add the bag of treats and arm guards to our purchases.
“I’ll do no such thing!” the owner exclaimed, throwing in an extra bag of change and giving me five sickles and three knuts back even after that. “Hope to see you again soon! Have a good year at school!” the store owner called. We waved goodbye and began walking to the apparition point. Quietly John slipped his hand into mine, giving me his money bag.
“It’s eight, ten, nine,” he said. “Like we agreed.” I smiled at John and he smiled back. “Sorry Mum’s been so nasty to you lately.”
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered back. “Don’t worry, we’ll go to school soon, and Mum’ll forget why she’s mad at me.”
“All right you two, break it up!” Sirius called cheerfully, taking my free hand. “James, why don’t you help me with Harriet, and Remus, you and Lily can take John.” Dad took my other hand and soon we were back at Potter Manor.
Weeks later, the night before we were to go to Hogwarts, after we had packed all of our things into our trunks at Dad’s insistence, John and I sat up on my bed talking about Hogwarts.
“We’ll still be friends if we get into different houses though,” John told me.
“Why do you think we’re going to get into different houses?” I asked.
“Because I have to be in Gryffindor, and well, you’re so smart you’ll probably go to Ravenclaw,” John said. “You know everything in the text books already, I already saw you reading Mum and Dad’s old copies.”
“John, you said you have to be in Gryffindor,” I replied. “Why?”
“Well, everyone expects it of me,” John said. “I mean, Gryffindor is the opposite of Slytherin and that’s where Lord Voldemort came from, right?”
“It doesn’t make Slytherin House evil, though,” I argued.
“Well, of course not,” John replied. “I’m just saying that people are expecting certain things.” Dad rapped his knuckles against the open door.
“Bedtime you two, we’re going to have to get an early start tomorrow because I have to go into work after we drop you guys off.”
“Would you tell us a story first?” I asked. I reconsidered almost as soon as I had said it, because Dad looked very tired, and had probably been fighting with Mum again. And the fight had probably been about me. But Dad smiled, making his eyes crinkle a little, before he climbed onto my bed in front of us.
“All right, which story do you two want to hear?”
“The Three Brothers!” John and I exclaimed as one. Dad only chuckled and shook his head a little, because we both knew the story backwards and forwards.
“All right, there once were three brothers who went walking at midnight,” Dad began.
“Twilight,” John interrupted.
“No, it’s Midnight,” I said, “Dad had it right.”
“Children, no fighting. There once were three brothers who went walking in between the times of six and eleven fifty-nine in the evening, fair enough? And these three brothers happened upon a river where everyone else who had tried to pass before had drowned. But being skilled in magic, the three brothers waved their wands and made a bridge. When they had crossed they were met by a mysterious figure in a cloak. This figure was of course, Death, who felt cheated that he had not obtained the three brothers’ souls.
“But Death was clever and pretended to congratulate the three brothers and offer them each a prize for passing a kind of task. The first brother asked for a wand, more powerful than any other wand ever made. So, Death took a piece of a nearby elder tree and gave it to the eldest brother. The second brother wanted the power to rule over Death, so he asked for a way to revive those we have lost, and Death plucked a smooth stone out of the river and gave it to the second brother. The third brother, being the cleverest of all, asked for a way to hide from anyone, even Death. Reluctantly, Death gave up his own cloak of invisibility.
“Time passed, and because the eldest brother boasted of his great power with his wand, someone crept in the night and slit his throat and stole the wand. And so Death collected the first brother. More time passed, and the second brother returned home, and turning the stone thrice in hand, he summoned a girl he had once loved. Though soon, she became sallow and melancholy, for the dead are not meant to be among the living, so the second brother took his own life to see her again. And so Death collected the second brother. But search though he might Death could not find the third brother anyway. Until, that is, the third brother was old, and quiet ready to die, and so he removed the invisibility cloak and gave it to his son, and greeted Death like an old friend. And so, Death collected the third brother.
“The end, and now it is time for bed, my children,” Dad said.
“Can I sleep in here with Harriet for tonight?” John asked. “Since we won’t really be able to do it again.”
“I don’t see why not,” Dad replied. “So long as you both sleep, and don’t spend the night talking. Your mum and I are waking you bright and early whether you like it or not.” We both settled in under the sheets and blankets and Dad kissed us both on the head and we lay down pulling the blankets up to our chins. “Good night you two, I love you,” Dad said from the door way.
“We love you too, Dad,” we chorused, as he flicked off the light switch. I closed my eyes and thought happy thoughts and soon I was asleep.
Only to be awakened by a screeching.
“JOHN! JOHN! JAMES COME QUICK!” I heard a thundering run of footsteps. “John isn’t in his room, someone took him!”
“Lily, he’s just in Harriet’s room. They wanted to stay together last night.” John sat up too and began rubbing his eyes as Lily stormed into the room.
“That was a foul prank to play, Harriet Rose of Sharon Potter! You had me scared out of my wits!”
“Mum, it was my idea,” John groaned. “I wanted to spend the night with Harriet since we won’t really get to do it again after we go to Hogwarts.” Lily did not know what to think that her precious little boy had caused her grief.
“Next time, please sleep in your own beds. I thought I lost you.” I watched Dad as Lily came to smother John with her love. He slowly wiped his glasses on his night shirt, and placed them on his face.
“Well, now that everyone is awake, how about we all get dressed and have breakfast. I’ll ask the elves to start on it.” Lily seemed very reluctant to let John go and the moment she did he jumped up and almost ran from the room. Lily stalked out much the same way she stalked in, and I got dressed, before taking my wand, money purse and my trunk to the stairs.
“Mipsy!” I called. I didn’t really like using house elves that much, but they loved the attention and I wasn’t quite sure how to get the trunk down the stairs.
“Yes, little Mistress?” Mipsy asked when she appeared.
“Could you please take my trunk down stairs and leave it by the floo, please?” Mipsy seemed rather excited that I had used please twice, because she snapped her fingers and popped away with my trunk. I pocketed my wand and my money bag and jogged down the stairs. Dad was already at the breakfast table having a cup of coffee and reading the Prophet’s morning edition. The clock behind him told me that it was six-thirty.
“We’re running a little early,” Dad told me. “Where’s your trunk?”
“By the floo, I had Mipsy take it for me,” I replied, digging into the poached eggs set aside for me in a little bowl. In fact, it seemed the elves had prepared a little of everything for me; oatmeal, eggs, bacon, ham and toast.
“Good, good,” Dad said. “Well, running early only means that the elves can pack you both a lunch. Why they don’t sell anything sensible on the candy trolley is beyond me.”
“What candy trolley?” I asked. Dad only grinned behind his newspaper, as Lily came downstairs levitating John’s trunk. John was holding Hedwig (that’s what we chose to name the owl), in her cage.
“Harriet, where’s your trunk?” Lily asked.
“Already by the floo, Mum,” I said, taking a large bite of oatmeal to avoid answering any questions. Lily and John walked to the fireplace, and deposited his things before they came back to the table. Breakfast was mostly quiet as John and I fidgeted in our seats, and the elves came to inform us that our lunch basket was prepared. When we had finished breakfast it was just passed seven, and Dad said that we might as well go.
We flooed through to the Leaky Cauldron, a pub that connects Muggle London and Diagon Alley, before we strode into Muggle London and Dad hailed a car. The cabbie gave us an odd look for having an owl, but minded his business as Lily directed him to take us to Kings Cross Station. When we arrived there, my parents found us both a trolley and then gave us the strangest directions I have ever received.
“You want us to run into a brick wall?” I asked.
“It only looks like a brick wall, and it’s best to take it at a run if you’re nervous,” Dad said. He offered me his hand. “Or if you’d like I could walk through with you.”
“If I’m holding your hand, I won’t be able to stir,” I told him. Dad grinned at me.
“Of course,” Dad said. “I’ll just walk beside you then.” And so we walked into the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. And then we came out at platform nine and three quarters. “See? No harm. Now step away and let your Mum and John come through.” We did, and soon we were rolling toward the train on an almost bare platform. Dad and Lily levitated our trunks and found us a compartment on the train, settling us in, before they took us off again. “Now listen you two, I want you to be good, and cause a lot of mayhem. But the good kind that you can’t get in trouble from. And I only want to hear from your professors that you two are the most outstanding pupils that they’ve ever had. Am I understood?”
“Yes Dad,” we chorused, and he gave each of us a hug and a kiss.
“Listen to what your father said, and be good,” Lily told us. She hugged John for a long time, and gave him more than one kiss. She reached for me a little reluctantly and pulled away a little too soon, and then I told the biggest lie I have ever told,
“I love you Mum.” Lily looked a little shocked, but I turned to Dad and repeated, “I love you Dad.” John repeated me, and Dad smiled, and took Lily and the two of us into his arms.
“I love you too, both of you.” We stayed like that for a little while before, as one, we all pulled away. Dad pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Well, your mother and I had better be going, but enjoy the train ride and we’ll listen to your sorting tonight on the Wireless.”
“Bye!” we called as they apparated away. Then we scampered on to the train, eager to be alone for the very first time, and anxious to begin our careers as a witch and a wizard.
John frowned at his headache. It was a difficult thing to do, as the ache was in his head and therefore something he could not really see, but it was really more like he was frowning at what it implied, which was even harder. Someone had been messing with his mind.
The first thing Ignotus had done to both him and his father was improve upon their mind shields, taking them into a meditative trance and building up wall after wall of defense, creating a sort of charm to allow a person who was trying to access their minds to see a version of what they wanted, but not necessarily what actually was. He said it was necessary because who knew when Dumbledore or Snape or someone would access their minds and learn of the Plan that the ancestors and John were so carefully setting in motion. The headache was a sort of alarm that someone was messing with his brain. And that someone had to be Lily Potter.
It was not the first time he wondered if his mother had always been like this and he and his father were too blind to really see how deeply she was manipulating and controlling them. Because Harriet had seen it. He knew that, because the ritual in the Plan would have taken even someone of Harriet’s caliber at least two years to set up on her own (so said Walter and Charlotte, who together with some of the other ancestors help could help John cut the process down to a year). That meant she was probably twelve or newly thirteen when she believed that her mother might want very badly to get rid of her. So badly that she thought she needed to travel through time to get away.
It was also not the first time John wondered just who was the greater manipulator: his mother, or Dumbledore.
“John! Albus is here and would like to speak with you!” John groaned and wished his headache away, wondering just how many times he could be questioned about his sister’s where abouts. After all, he was not lying when he said that he did not know where she was, just when.
“Hello, Professor!” John said with a smile as he jogged down the last few steps.
“Ah! John, lovely to see you my boy. I have come to ask a certain favor of you.”
“What kind of favor?” John asked. This was not how many of their conversations of late had begun.
“Today, we are interviewing an applicant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position,” Dumbledore said. “The Ministry, which is trying to plant its own in Hogwarts, has asked that we arrange for the whole staff, plus a student from each year, plus some alumni to interview the applicant. I suspect this is as much a test for us as it is for her. Would you please be the rising fifth year representative?”
“Sure!” John agreed. “That way I can ask her her plan to kill or seriously injure me before the end of the year!” The joke fell flat between his parents and Dumbledore and no one laughed. “I’ll go change and get my shoes.”
John raced back up the stairs to change into a set of his school robes embroidered with the Gryffindor colors and pulled on a red and gold striped tie. As he returned back down the stairs, he heard his parents and Dumbledore talking in low voices, but they stopped almost as soon as they heard him coming.
“Ready, my boy?” Dumbledore asked. John nodded, and fingered his wand up his sleeve. “Well, then, if you will take my arm I shall apparate us onto Hogwarts grounds. Lily, James may expect him home for supper.” John waved goodbye as he took Dumbledore’s arm, and then they were in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. But, instead of its normal layout with the four house tables and the staff table, there was one long table, bent at two edges with twenty-five chairs around it, a smaller table with a single chair just across from it. Other professors were chatting with students, and John noticed that there were two students from each house, though two of them, wearing Ravenclaw and Slytherin colors, were older than the rest. John recognized one of them as Penelope Clearwater, Percy’s old girlfriend who had graduated two years ago.
Dennis Creevy perked up when he saw John and waved emphatically. John returned the wave, only much more gently and went to join Luna to tell her everything that had happened. Luna must have sensed his anxiety, because she pressed a finger to her lips, and took his hand quietly.
“Now that we have all arrived,” asked the wizard John recognized as Amos Diggory, who was standing next to his son, Cedric, “why don’t we take our seats and wait for our guest to arrive? She should not be that long, should she Albus?”
“Not long at all,” Dumbledore said. “Though I dare say she will be rather shocked, as I did not have time to inform her of the change in interview style.” John took his seat in between Dennis and Luna that was labeled, “Gryffindor Representative.” Penelope Clearwater sat on Luna’s other side and an elderly woman sat on Penelope’s other side. Just across from them were Amos Diggory, Cedric, a younger Hufflepuff whom John did not recognize, an older Slytherin and the Slytherin alumna. The staff seated themselves at the longest table, with a woman wearing a gross amount of pink that John was sure he knew or was supposed to know.
They were not seated long, as Dumbledore promised, when a woman who could not have been much older than Penelope walked through the doors of the Great Hall. She was about as tall as John, not quite six feet, and had chestnut hair that fell just past her shoulders and grey eyes darker than his own. She wore a plain, grey tunic, over dark blue trousers, and had a tan, hide coat that went almost to her knees. She wore what looked like a Native American arrow head on a long chord around her neck, and had a satchel resting on her hip. She surveyed the crowd of people for a moment and then strode forward into the Great Hall.
“Good morning,” she said, pulling her satchel over her head. The group echoed the greeting, as she peeled off her coat, and hung it on the back of her chair before announcing, “My name is Avalon Grant, and I am here to apply for the position of professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.” She pulled several books from her satchel, and sorted them out, delivering one stack to Colin, and then the other to the Slytherin alumna. “These are copies of my lesson plans for the following year. I’m sure the student representatives would be interested in seeing what they will be taught first, but I think we’ll have enough time that they may be reviewed by all. If I had known there would be so many of you, I would have made extra copies.” The Slytherin alumna snorted.
John took the copy of the fifth year lesson plans, and passed the fourth year plan to Luna. The woman sitting next to Penelope asked that she might look at the first year plan first, as Ms. Grant seated herself.
“Hem, hem,” said the woman in pink. “Ms. Grant, upon reviewing your stellar application, it says that you age is listed as twenty-five , is that correct?”
“Yes, Madam Umbridge it is,” Ms. Grant replied.
“I was wondering how a young woman of your age could have obtained the qualifications that you seem to have. Could you take us through your learning and teaching experiences?”
“Certainly, Madam Umbridge. My parents began home schooling me at a young age. My mother passed when I was fourteen, and my father had been dead for some time after that. I worked through my grief by studying magic viciously, and took my RIME shortly before I turned fifteen—”
“Sorry, you took your what?” Cedric asked.
“Regular International Magic Exam,” Ms. Grant translated. “Think of it as the OWL, but one that covers the standard curriculum for such a test for all of the nations in the ICW. After I passed them, I enrolled in an international school in the United States to study for my Advance International Magic Exam, which is the rough equivalent of the NEWTs, which I took a year later. After that I began studying under several masters and on my own to begin work toward my Masteries in International Defense and Dueling.”
“I’m sorry, may I ask why you took international exams instead of simply the British ones?” asked the woman who sat next to Penelope. “There isn’t anything wrong with our exams, are there?”
“Certainly not, Madam Goshawk,” Ms. Grant replied. “But I am, myself an international student. My mother was from Norway, while my father grew up here. In the muggle world and under the ICW I am a citizen in both Britain and Norway.”
“Can you say something in Norwegian?” Dennis asked.
“Ja, Jeg kanne liten Gryffindor,” Ms. Grant replied with a small smile. “But after my mother’s death, I went to live with her family in Norway, and there it is not so uncommon to take international exams so that you are qualified to get jobs abroad as well as in your own country. Since I planned to teach, but did not know where I wanted to teach, I chose to take the international exams, rather than taking my exams in Norway or returning to Britain to do so.”
“Are you so skilled that you can teach abroad?” Severus Snape asked, in a silky hiss.
“I have taught in the United States, Germany, France and Japan as both an assistant and instructor, in both defense and dueling,” Ms. Grant replied without hesitation.
“Of course, Ms. Grant is a skilled duelist, there is no question of that,” Professor Flitwick said.
“What do you mean, Filius?” the Slytherin alumna asked.
“I merely mean that she was the consecutive dueling champion for five, technically six years running,” Flitwick said. “The only reason she lost her title was due to lack of participation.”
“Sorry, but how can someone hold a title for technically six years?” Penelope asked. “I don’t see how you could technically be a champion.”
“In the year of ’93, just a few years ago now, I was studying for my Grand Mastery in Defensive Arts and teaching, so I did not have as much time to devote to my dueling training,” Ms. Grant explained. “Though, after I finished my exam and found out I would be awarded my mastery, I attended the dueling finals with a few of my friends. Guido Alfero won that year, but when he saw me leaving the stadium he challenged me on the spot. Though I had not been training for such an event, I was fresh and he was not. When I won the duel, I was informed of a rule that since the champion had challenged me inside of six months of winning his title, I was now the new International champion. So, there was a lapse of a few hours in between my fifth championship and my sixth.”
“Master Alfero was much wiser next year,” Flitwick said with a chuckle, “and went on a sixth month sabbatical after he won.”
“Quite impressive,” Dumbledore admitted. “You mentioned though that you also have a Grand Mastery in Defensive Arts. When did you receive your Mastery in the same subject?”
“In 1988 closer toward the end of the year,” Grant replied. “In the fall of 1989 was when I began my first teaching position in my alma mater in the US.”
“And you only stayed with them for a year?” Dumbledore asked. “You also seem to have several other short tenures at schools, the longest being three years at an academy in Japan.”
“Mostly since I am so young, I tend to be hired for more temporary positions,” Grant explained. “The dueling professor at the United States Acadmey of International Magical Arts went on a year sabbatical. The Old Edo Academy in Japan kept me on for three years, but a elder Japanese master requested to come and teach and as the youngest teacher there, I was asked to leave in favor of him. I taught at Beauxbatons for a year in leau of a medical emergency. My last posting at the Germany Academy of Dueling I was also asked to leave, because some of the more tenured teachers claimed I was favoring the female students.”
“And were you?” asked Professor McGonagall, looking up from one of the lesson plans she had in her hands.
“In my opinion, no. I have an open door policy toward helping my students. The trouble with that was that more young women came to me asking me for help than the young men. When they began to do better in their classes, I can’t say what the other teachers were thinking, but evidently they did not like it.” The room fell silent for a moment before Umbridge spoke up again,
“Hem, hem, Ms. Grant you do seem to place quite a bit of emphasis on practical use of defensive magic,” she remarked.
“I thought I fairly evenly split the theory and practical application,” Ms. Grant replied.
“Of course, dear, what I only meant was do you believe it is necessary to have so much practical application?” John felt a chill go up his spine; clearly the ministry woman was up to something, because many of the staff members, the Slytherin alumna and Madam Goshawk looked like they were about to protest. But they never got a chance as Ms. Grant replied,
“My personal feelings aside, it’s an educational law in that for classes in which spell material is being used, and students will be tested on their abilities to cast and maintain spell work, the class must be split as well as can be determined by the professor, into half theory and half application.” The room went silent and Madame Goshawk sank into her seat with a smug look on her face, and Umbridge’s smile tightened on her face.
“And which law might this be?” Umbridge asked.
“Educational Law 984e,” Ms. Grant said. “I researched it along with the OWL requirements so I would know how I should build up my lesson plans. It’s right about the law that states: Any direct interference in the staffing, education of students, by disturbing curriculum, testing or otherwise by an official or officials of the Ministry for Magic of Great Britain, shall be considered unlawful and charged regardless of position with a year in Azkaban and restitution paid to Hogwarts for damage in education done. You need a unanimous vote of the Wizengamot to change either of the laws, Madame.”
Many of the professors, Madame Goshawk and the Slytherin Alumna looked so proud they could burst. But Umbridge was turning very pink, such that she was almost red in the face.
“Well, then, are there any further questions?” Dumbledore inquired. No one raised anything, so he said, “Very well, then, Ms. Grant, I believe you promised a demonstration of your abilities, though considering the circumstances I was wondering if you would allow Filius to duel you.”
“It would be an honor to duel Grand High Master Flitwick,” Ms. Grant said standing, and removing her coat and satchel from the chair. She waved her wand, and the table and chair flew toward the wall, and neatly stacked themselves there. The professors and ministry officials began to rise and so the students followed suite and stepped away as the chairs and tables were moved with magic. Flitwick approached Grant and inquired,
“Would you care for a simple five minute warded match? That way we do not need to declare a winner.” Grant grinned.
“You think that highly of me, Master Flitwick?”
“If my eyes are to be believed, then yes.”
“Then I accept the offer of a Warded Dueling Match to be held for the duration of five minutes.” The two shook on it, and Flitwick turned to the Slytherin Alumna.
“Andromeda, I do believe you are a certified judge of these matches, yes?”
“Of course, Filius,” Andromeda replied. “But in a warded match I would only look for spells that are not permitted in the official dueling handbook, correct? Which does not say much if I remember correctly.”
“Yes, yes, spot on!” Flitwick squeaked. He joined Grant in drawing blue glowing lines in a large rectangle on the ground. John inched closer to Andromeda, though she noticed him doing so when he was a few feet away.
“Yes Mr. Potter?”
“I was wonder, what is a Warded Dueling Match?” he inquired.
“Grant!” Andromeda called. “Teaching moment for you: define a Warded Dueling Match.”
“Based on the regulation handbook for international duelers, a Warded Dueling Match occurs inside a set of wards, mostly for the safety of those watching, for a set period of time agreed upon by the duelers,” Grant defined continuing to draw what John assumed to be ward lines. “The rules of such a match state that almost anything goes that will not, within reason of course, seriously injure or kill an opponent.”
“Why within reason?” Cedric asked.
“Well, Mr. Diggory, it is a duel, you are trying to hit your opponent with spells to disable them,” Grant replied. “They will be hurt to some extent.” Flitwick and Grant finished drawing the blue lines and when they connected their wands, the blue glow rose to the sky-ceiling of the great hall.
“Duelers, to start!” Andromeda called. Flitwick and Grant walked to the middle of the blue square, and raised their wands in front of their faces. “Make mark!” The wands came away, both bowed then about faced and walked so that they were nearly to the edge of the wards, and took their fighting stances. “DUEL!”
John was not sure how to describe the next five minutes. His eyes kept shifting back and forth, trying to keep up with the spell work in front of him, but it seemed impossible and only made his eyes hurt. Andromeda leaned over and whispered, “I do believe the word you’re looking for is melee.” At five minutes she called a stop, and once the smoke cleared she called, “Back to start!” Flitwick and Grant returned to the center of the square and bowed to one another again. “Off point! Well done, both of you!” Professor Flitwick began shaking Ms. Grant’s hand in earnest.
“Oh well done Ms. Grant! Well done!”
“Very well done indeed!” Dumbledore said, breaking the wards. “I believe I can informally offer you a place during this upcoming term, Ms. Grant. Of course, we will need to discuss the finer details and your contract, but perhaps we shall leave that for when you have not just dueled a grand high master.”
“Thank you very much, Headmaster,” Ms. Grant said, reaching out to shake Dumbledore’s hand. As some of the other faculty began to crowd around and congratulate Ms. Grant, Luna slipped her hand into John’s and nodded toward the door.
“I’ll let them know you’ve slipped out,” Andromeda said. “And you can send Dumbledore a patronus when you get where you’re going.”
“Thank you,” John said, walking with Luna toward the entry hall. They slipped out onto the Hogwarts lawn and made for the lake. There was a spot on the grass that was still a beautiful shade of green, and Luna seated herself on it, John flopping down next to her.
“I received a letter from Harriet last week, you know,” Luna said. “She told me about her summer plans. I was wondering how they were going?” John blinked for a moment, but Luna’s stare told him all that he needed to know.
“She’s well, as far as she’s told me,” John said. “We have not had any correspondence since she left.” Luna nodded and looked out over the lake.
“Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?”
“No, I can’t say that I do.” Luna said nothing, and did not blink. “Luna, you know it’s not you she doesn’t trust. She’s trying to protect us both.” Luna turned back toward him, blinking suddenly, a few tears dripping down her face. John reached out and wrapped his arms around her, letting Luna sniffle into his chest. “We’ll get through this together won’t we? We’ll look after each other while Harriet isn’t here to do it for us.” Luna nodded into his chest not saying a word. “Come on. Let’s go down to Hogsmead and then we’ll floo you home. I’ll send Dumbledore a patronus on the way.”
“No, let’s go back to the castle,” Luna said, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “You’ll get in trouble if you cast a patronus for that Umbridge woman to see. Besides, I have a feeling.” John smiled back at her and stood up, pulling her up with him.
“I’ll race you then!”
“Good idea!” Luna exclaimed before she took off running. They ran up the grassy hills, but as they ran John noticed that it was getting colder around them, and he felt fear creeping up his back, he stopped at the foot of the final hill up to the castle and turned back to look. When he did Luna pulled at him, and they ran for real, as fast as they could to the entry hall. When they finally made it inside the castle doors the chill was almost upon them and John almost did not have the strength to make it into the Great Hall and shout,
“Dementors!” Luna still pulled him along so they would make it further into the group and before an adult could question his sanity, black cloaked figures floated into the room, making it suddenly very cold. Grant, reacted first, but the other professors and adults also raised their wands and shouted,
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Against so many patroni, the dementors did not stand a chance. Still, they had gotten close enough that the younger children were very much shaken, and even Luna tremored in her spot.
“We need chocolate,” John said, as Dennis Creevy clung to his leg releasing a very warm wetness onto John’s pants. Madame Pomphrey called for a house elf and bustled around checking everyone for serious injury. She very quietly cleaned both Dennis and John when she handed them a large slab of chocolate.
“I want to go home,” Dennis muttered around his mouth full of chocolate, hiccupping, tears streaming down his face.
“You did great Dennis,” John told him, kneeling down. “I passed out the first time a dementor got that close to me.” Luna took a handkerchief and wiped Dennis’ tears away and Professor McGonagall came to apparate him back home.
“Though I think, Mr. Creevy, we had better floo to Hogsmead. Follow me please.” Dennis took her hand and McGonagall did not protest. Cedric came to them once they had left and asked,
“Did you see how they got here?”
“I didn’t even notice them until we had almost gotten back to the castle,” John admitted. “It was almost like they came out of no where.”
“Azkaban isn’t so far from Hogwarts,” Penelope whispered, joining the conversation. “Well relatively speaking. It’s somewhere in the North Sea that’s close to Scotland that is, and much as the Ministry loathes to admit it, we don’t actually know how to control the dementors that well. They could have just come here.”
“In any case, Snape, Grant and Hagrid are going to make sure they don’t get too far before the ministry can come and round them up,” Cedric said. “My dad’s already gone to get some others to help him. Merlin, it’s all really happening, isn’t it? That stuff we saw in the graveyard, what you said happened after I got knocked out? He’s back.”
“The Prophet’s saying not to worry,” Penelope whispered.
“The Prophet is a rag,” said the sixth year Slytherin boy. “He’s back all right. I’ve already gotten subtle offers to join.”
“Going to?” John asked.
“I’m Slytherin, not stupid. My parents are putting in for jobs in the US while the ministry’s still playing stupid and letting people out.” He held out his hand to John. John took it and gripped it firmly. “Whatever happens to you Potter, good luck, you always seem to get mixed in the middle of things.” He released John and turned back to the adults who were still whispering to one another. “It’s a pity though that I might not get to learn from Grant. I’ve heard good things.”
“From whom, exactly?” Cedric asked, his eye brows furrowing.
“Duelists,” the Slytherin replied. “I’m training up, well, I was, to go on the British circuit and hopefully make it to the international league. Maybe she can recommend some American coaches for me.” He shrugged. “Either way, I think it’s time for us to go.” Penelope nodded furiously, and moved toward the nearest floo with the boy.
“I’m going to wait for my dad,” Cedric said.
“I think I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore and then I’m going to take Luna home.” John looked at the adults for a moment and dropped his voice. “Cedric, can I write to you, so we can talk about… things?” Cedric frowned.
“I still don’t like what happened,” he said. “Just so we’re clear about that. Your sister was right about one thing: nowhere in the sorting song does it say we are nice. That was supposed to be my victory. But…” Cedric sighed. “Things are changing. I realize that we’re going to have to start picking sides, and you are on the right side, John Potter. I don’t like it, and this doesn’t make us friends. But we can be allies, and maybe learn to trust each other. Yes you can right about ‘things’.” John nodded and shook hands with Cedric before he moved with Luna toward Dumbledore.
“Professor, may I take Luna home?” John asked. “She’s quite shaken, and I understand everyone is very busy with the incident right now. I’ll floo back home from the Weasleys.” Dumbledore considered him for a moment and then nodded.
“Very well. Be safe, Mr. Potter, Ms. Lovegood. The fireplace in the entry hall has no doubt been lit, so you may use that one.” John walked, with Luna gripping his hand tightly, to the floo, and stepped in with her, shouting,
“The Burrow!”
“Dad! Mum! Look at the owl we picked!” John exclaimed. Remus and Sirius were talking with the store owner about a cage and a stand while the snowy owl was perched on John’s shoulder. “He’s really good, I can already tell, and he’s going to be the best owl ever!”
“John, the owl’s a girl!” I told him, giggling a little.
“Don’t correct your brother,” Lily snapped at me.
“Actually, male snowy owls are pure white, the females have black markings like this lovely lady right here,” the store owner said. “The little lady had it right.”
“You win everything!” John said with a smile as he flicked my nose. “I think you’ll be going into Ravenclaw for sure.”
“All right well, Mr. and Miss Potter that will be seventeen, four, ten totally for the treats, cage, stand, wrist guards, and of course the owl herself,” the owner told us.
“Well, Harriet give the man his money.” John and I looked up at Lily curiously, because we had already agreed to split the cost and had begun counting the money out of our individual pouches. I shot a look to Dad, then to John, who quietly put his money away, and counted out eighteen galleons.
“Keep the change, please,” I said, as Sirius and Remus shrunk the stand, and add the bag of treats and arm guards to our purchases.
“I’ll do no such thing!” the owner exclaimed, throwing in an extra bag of change and giving me five sickles and three knuts back even after that. “Hope to see you again soon! Have a good year at school!” the store owner called. We waved goodbye and began walking to the apparition point. Quietly John slipped his hand into mine, giving me his money bag.
“It’s eight, ten, nine,” he said. “Like we agreed.” I smiled at John and he smiled back. “Sorry Mum’s been so nasty to you lately.”
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered back. “Don’t worry, we’ll go to school soon, and Mum’ll forget why she’s mad at me.”
“All right you two, break it up!” Sirius called cheerfully, taking my free hand. “James, why don’t you help me with Harriet, and Remus, you and Lily can take John.” Dad took my other hand and soon we were back at Potter Manor.
Weeks later, the night before we were to go to Hogwarts, after we had packed all of our things into our trunks at Dad’s insistence, John and I sat up on my bed talking about Hogwarts.
“We’ll still be friends if we get into different houses though,” John told me.
“Why do you think we’re going to get into different houses?” I asked.
“Because I have to be in Gryffindor, and well, you’re so smart you’ll probably go to Ravenclaw,” John said. “You know everything in the text books already, I already saw you reading Mum and Dad’s old copies.”
“John, you said you have to be in Gryffindor,” I replied. “Why?”
“Well, everyone expects it of me,” John said. “I mean, Gryffindor is the opposite of Slytherin and that’s where Lord Voldemort came from, right?”
“It doesn’t make Slytherin House evil, though,” I argued.
“Well, of course not,” John replied. “I’m just saying that people are expecting certain things.” Dad rapped his knuckles against the open door.
“Bedtime you two, we’re going to have to get an early start tomorrow because I have to go into work after we drop you guys off.”
“Would you tell us a story first?” I asked. I reconsidered almost as soon as I had said it, because Dad looked very tired, and had probably been fighting with Mum again. And the fight had probably been about me. But Dad smiled, making his eyes crinkle a little, before he climbed onto my bed in front of us.
“All right, which story do you two want to hear?”
“The Three Brothers!” John and I exclaimed as one. Dad only chuckled and shook his head a little, because we both knew the story backwards and forwards.
“All right, there once were three brothers who went walking at midnight,” Dad began.
“Twilight,” John interrupted.
“No, it’s Midnight,” I said, “Dad had it right.”
“Children, no fighting. There once were three brothers who went walking in between the times of six and eleven fifty-nine in the evening, fair enough? And these three brothers happened upon a river where everyone else who had tried to pass before had drowned. But being skilled in magic, the three brothers waved their wands and made a bridge. When they had crossed they were met by a mysterious figure in a cloak. This figure was of course, Death, who felt cheated that he had not obtained the three brothers’ souls.
“But Death was clever and pretended to congratulate the three brothers and offer them each a prize for passing a kind of task. The first brother asked for a wand, more powerful than any other wand ever made. So, Death took a piece of a nearby elder tree and gave it to the eldest brother. The second brother wanted the power to rule over Death, so he asked for a way to revive those we have lost, and Death plucked a smooth stone out of the river and gave it to the second brother. The third brother, being the cleverest of all, asked for a way to hide from anyone, even Death. Reluctantly, Death gave up his own cloak of invisibility.
“Time passed, and because the eldest brother boasted of his great power with his wand, someone crept in the night and slit his throat and stole the wand. And so Death collected the first brother. More time passed, and the second brother returned home, and turning the stone thrice in hand, he summoned a girl he had once loved. Though soon, she became sallow and melancholy, for the dead are not meant to be among the living, so the second brother took his own life to see her again. And so Death collected the second brother. But search though he might Death could not find the third brother anyway. Until, that is, the third brother was old, and quiet ready to die, and so he removed the invisibility cloak and gave it to his son, and greeted Death like an old friend. And so, Death collected the third brother.
“The end, and now it is time for bed, my children,” Dad said.
“Can I sleep in here with Harriet for tonight?” John asked. “Since we won’t really be able to do it again.”
“I don’t see why not,” Dad replied. “So long as you both sleep, and don’t spend the night talking. Your mum and I are waking you bright and early whether you like it or not.” We both settled in under the sheets and blankets and Dad kissed us both on the head and we lay down pulling the blankets up to our chins. “Good night you two, I love you,” Dad said from the door way.
“We love you too, Dad,” we chorused, as he flicked off the light switch. I closed my eyes and thought happy thoughts and soon I was asleep.
Only to be awakened by a screeching.
“JOHN! JOHN! JAMES COME QUICK!” I heard a thundering run of footsteps. “John isn’t in his room, someone took him!”
“Lily, he’s just in Harriet’s room. They wanted to stay together last night.” John sat up too and began rubbing his eyes as Lily stormed into the room.
“That was a foul prank to play, Harriet Rose of Sharon Potter! You had me scared out of my wits!”
“Mum, it was my idea,” John groaned. “I wanted to spend the night with Harriet since we won’t really get to do it again after we go to Hogwarts.” Lily did not know what to think that her precious little boy had caused her grief.
“Next time, please sleep in your own beds. I thought I lost you.” I watched Dad as Lily came to smother John with her love. He slowly wiped his glasses on his night shirt, and placed them on his face.
“Well, now that everyone is awake, how about we all get dressed and have breakfast. I’ll ask the elves to start on it.” Lily seemed very reluctant to let John go and the moment she did he jumped up and almost ran from the room. Lily stalked out much the same way she stalked in, and I got dressed, before taking my wand, money purse and my trunk to the stairs.
“Mipsy!” I called. I didn’t really like using house elves that much, but they loved the attention and I wasn’t quite sure how to get the trunk down the stairs.
“Yes, little Mistress?” Mipsy asked when she appeared.
“Could you please take my trunk down stairs and leave it by the floo, please?” Mipsy seemed rather excited that I had used please twice, because she snapped her fingers and popped away with my trunk. I pocketed my wand and my money bag and jogged down the stairs. Dad was already at the breakfast table having a cup of coffee and reading the Prophet’s morning edition. The clock behind him told me that it was six-thirty.
“We’re running a little early,” Dad told me. “Where’s your trunk?”
“By the floo, I had Mipsy take it for me,” I replied, digging into the poached eggs set aside for me in a little bowl. In fact, it seemed the elves had prepared a little of everything for me; oatmeal, eggs, bacon, ham and toast.
“Good, good,” Dad said. “Well, running early only means that the elves can pack you both a lunch. Why they don’t sell anything sensible on the candy trolley is beyond me.”
“What candy trolley?” I asked. Dad only grinned behind his newspaper, as Lily came downstairs levitating John’s trunk. John was holding Hedwig (that’s what we chose to name the owl), in her cage.
“Harriet, where’s your trunk?” Lily asked.
“Already by the floo, Mum,” I said, taking a large bite of oatmeal to avoid answering any questions. Lily and John walked to the fireplace, and deposited his things before they came back to the table. Breakfast was mostly quiet as John and I fidgeted in our seats, and the elves came to inform us that our lunch basket was prepared. When we had finished breakfast it was just passed seven, and Dad said that we might as well go.
We flooed through to the Leaky Cauldron, a pub that connects Muggle London and Diagon Alley, before we strode into Muggle London and Dad hailed a car. The cabbie gave us an odd look for having an owl, but minded his business as Lily directed him to take us to Kings Cross Station. When we arrived there, my parents found us both a trolley and then gave us the strangest directions I have ever received.
“You want us to run into a brick wall?” I asked.
“It only looks like a brick wall, and it’s best to take it at a run if you’re nervous,” Dad said. He offered me his hand. “Or if you’d like I could walk through with you.”
“If I’m holding your hand, I won’t be able to stir,” I told him. Dad grinned at me.
“Of course,” Dad said. “I’ll just walk beside you then.” And so we walked into the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. And then we came out at platform nine and three quarters. “See? No harm. Now step away and let your Mum and John come through.” We did, and soon we were rolling toward the train on an almost bare platform. Dad and Lily levitated our trunks and found us a compartment on the train, settling us in, before they took us off again. “Now listen you two, I want you to be good, and cause a lot of mayhem. But the good kind that you can’t get in trouble from. And I only want to hear from your professors that you two are the most outstanding pupils that they’ve ever had. Am I understood?”
“Yes Dad,” we chorused, and he gave each of us a hug and a kiss.
“Listen to what your father said, and be good,” Lily told us. She hugged John for a long time, and gave him more than one kiss. She reached for me a little reluctantly and pulled away a little too soon, and then I told the biggest lie I have ever told,
“I love you Mum.” Lily looked a little shocked, but I turned to Dad and repeated, “I love you Dad.” John repeated me, and Dad smiled, and took Lily and the two of us into his arms.
“I love you too, both of you.” We stayed like that for a little while before, as one, we all pulled away. Dad pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Well, your mother and I had better be going, but enjoy the train ride and we’ll listen to your sorting tonight on the Wireless.”
“Bye!” we called as they apparated away. Then we scampered on to the train, eager to be alone for the very first time, and anxious to begin our careers as a witch and a wizard.
John frowned at his headache. It was a difficult thing to do, as the ache was in his head and therefore something he could not really see, but it was really more like he was frowning at what it implied, which was even harder. Someone had been messing with his mind.
The first thing Ignotus had done to both him and his father was improve upon their mind shields, taking them into a meditative trance and building up wall after wall of defense, creating a sort of charm to allow a person who was trying to access their minds to see a version of what they wanted, but not necessarily what actually was. He said it was necessary because who knew when Dumbledore or Snape or someone would access their minds and learn of the Plan that the ancestors and John were so carefully setting in motion. The headache was a sort of alarm that someone was messing with his brain. And that someone had to be Lily Potter.
It was not the first time he wondered if his mother had always been like this and he and his father were too blind to really see how deeply she was manipulating and controlling them. Because Harriet had seen it. He knew that, because the ritual in the Plan would have taken even someone of Harriet’s caliber at least two years to set up on her own (so said Walter and Charlotte, who together with some of the other ancestors help could help John cut the process down to a year). That meant she was probably twelve or newly thirteen when she believed that her mother might want very badly to get rid of her. So badly that she thought she needed to travel through time to get away.
It was also not the first time John wondered just who was the greater manipulator: his mother, or Dumbledore.
“John! Albus is here and would like to speak with you!” John groaned and wished his headache away, wondering just how many times he could be questioned about his sister’s where abouts. After all, he was not lying when he said that he did not know where she was, just when.
“Hello, Professor!” John said with a smile as he jogged down the last few steps.
“Ah! John, lovely to see you my boy. I have come to ask a certain favor of you.”
“What kind of favor?” John asked. This was not how many of their conversations of late had begun.
“Today, we are interviewing an applicant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position,” Dumbledore said. “The Ministry, which is trying to plant its own in Hogwarts, has asked that we arrange for the whole staff, plus a student from each year, plus some alumni to interview the applicant. I suspect this is as much a test for us as it is for her. Would you please be the rising fifth year representative?”
“Sure!” John agreed. “That way I can ask her her plan to kill or seriously injure me before the end of the year!” The joke fell flat between his parents and Dumbledore and no one laughed. “I’ll go change and get my shoes.”
John raced back up the stairs to change into a set of his school robes embroidered with the Gryffindor colors and pulled on a red and gold striped tie. As he returned back down the stairs, he heard his parents and Dumbledore talking in low voices, but they stopped almost as soon as they heard him coming.
“Ready, my boy?” Dumbledore asked. John nodded, and fingered his wand up his sleeve. “Well, then, if you will take my arm I shall apparate us onto Hogwarts grounds. Lily, James may expect him home for supper.” John waved goodbye as he took Dumbledore’s arm, and then they were in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. But, instead of its normal layout with the four house tables and the staff table, there was one long table, bent at two edges with twenty-five chairs around it, a smaller table with a single chair just across from it. Other professors were chatting with students, and John noticed that there were two students from each house, though two of them, wearing Ravenclaw and Slytherin colors, were older than the rest. John recognized one of them as Penelope Clearwater, Percy’s old girlfriend who had graduated two years ago.
Dennis Creevy perked up when he saw John and waved emphatically. John returned the wave, only much more gently and went to join Luna to tell her everything that had happened. Luna must have sensed his anxiety, because she pressed a finger to her lips, and took his hand quietly.
“Now that we have all arrived,” asked the wizard John recognized as Amos Diggory, who was standing next to his son, Cedric, “why don’t we take our seats and wait for our guest to arrive? She should not be that long, should she Albus?”
“Not long at all,” Dumbledore said. “Though I dare say she will be rather shocked, as I did not have time to inform her of the change in interview style.” John took his seat in between Dennis and Luna that was labeled, “Gryffindor Representative.” Penelope Clearwater sat on Luna’s other side and an elderly woman sat on Penelope’s other side. Just across from them were Amos Diggory, Cedric, a younger Hufflepuff whom John did not recognize, an older Slytherin and the Slytherin alumna. The staff seated themselves at the longest table, with a woman wearing a gross amount of pink that John was sure he knew or was supposed to know.
They were not seated long, as Dumbledore promised, when a woman who could not have been much older than Penelope walked through the doors of the Great Hall. She was about as tall as John, not quite six feet, and had chestnut hair that fell just past her shoulders and grey eyes darker than his own. She wore a plain, grey tunic, over dark blue trousers, and had a tan, hide coat that went almost to her knees. She wore what looked like a Native American arrow head on a long chord around her neck, and had a satchel resting on her hip. She surveyed the crowd of people for a moment and then strode forward into the Great Hall.
“Good morning,” she said, pulling her satchel over her head. The group echoed the greeting, as she peeled off her coat, and hung it on the back of her chair before announcing, “My name is Avalon Grant, and I am here to apply for the position of professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.” She pulled several books from her satchel, and sorted them out, delivering one stack to Colin, and then the other to the Slytherin alumna. “These are copies of my lesson plans for the following year. I’m sure the student representatives would be interested in seeing what they will be taught first, but I think we’ll have enough time that they may be reviewed by all. If I had known there would be so many of you, I would have made extra copies.” The Slytherin alumna snorted.
John took the copy of the fifth year lesson plans, and passed the fourth year plan to Luna. The woman sitting next to Penelope asked that she might look at the first year plan first, as Ms. Grant seated herself.
“Hem, hem,” said the woman in pink. “Ms. Grant, upon reviewing your stellar application, it says that you age is listed as twenty-five , is that correct?”
“Yes, Madam Umbridge it is,” Ms. Grant replied.
“I was wondering how a young woman of your age could have obtained the qualifications that you seem to have. Could you take us through your learning and teaching experiences?”
“Certainly, Madam Umbridge. My parents began home schooling me at a young age. My mother passed when I was fourteen, and my father had been dead for some time after that. I worked through my grief by studying magic viciously, and took my RIME shortly before I turned fifteen—”
“Sorry, you took your what?” Cedric asked.
“Regular International Magic Exam,” Ms. Grant translated. “Think of it as the OWL, but one that covers the standard curriculum for such a test for all of the nations in the ICW. After I passed them, I enrolled in an international school in the United States to study for my Advance International Magic Exam, which is the rough equivalent of the NEWTs, which I took a year later. After that I began studying under several masters and on my own to begin work toward my Masteries in International Defense and Dueling.”
“I’m sorry, may I ask why you took international exams instead of simply the British ones?” asked the woman who sat next to Penelope. “There isn’t anything wrong with our exams, are there?”
“Certainly not, Madam Goshawk,” Ms. Grant replied. “But I am, myself an international student. My mother was from Norway, while my father grew up here. In the muggle world and under the ICW I am a citizen in both Britain and Norway.”
“Can you say something in Norwegian?” Dennis asked.
“Ja, Jeg kanne liten Gryffindor,” Ms. Grant replied with a small smile. “But after my mother’s death, I went to live with her family in Norway, and there it is not so uncommon to take international exams so that you are qualified to get jobs abroad as well as in your own country. Since I planned to teach, but did not know where I wanted to teach, I chose to take the international exams, rather than taking my exams in Norway or returning to Britain to do so.”
“Are you so skilled that you can teach abroad?” Severus Snape asked, in a silky hiss.
“I have taught in the United States, Germany, France and Japan as both an assistant and instructor, in both defense and dueling,” Ms. Grant replied without hesitation.
“Of course, Ms. Grant is a skilled duelist, there is no question of that,” Professor Flitwick said.
“What do you mean, Filius?” the Slytherin alumna asked.
“I merely mean that she was the consecutive dueling champion for five, technically six years running,” Flitwick said. “The only reason she lost her title was due to lack of participation.”
“Sorry, but how can someone hold a title for technically six years?” Penelope asked. “I don’t see how you could technically be a champion.”
“In the year of ’93, just a few years ago now, I was studying for my Grand Mastery in Defensive Arts and teaching, so I did not have as much time to devote to my dueling training,” Ms. Grant explained. “Though, after I finished my exam and found out I would be awarded my mastery, I attended the dueling finals with a few of my friends. Guido Alfero won that year, but when he saw me leaving the stadium he challenged me on the spot. Though I had not been training for such an event, I was fresh and he was not. When I won the duel, I was informed of a rule that since the champion had challenged me inside of six months of winning his title, I was now the new International champion. So, there was a lapse of a few hours in between my fifth championship and my sixth.”
“Master Alfero was much wiser next year,” Flitwick said with a chuckle, “and went on a sixth month sabbatical after he won.”
“Quite impressive,” Dumbledore admitted. “You mentioned though that you also have a Grand Mastery in Defensive Arts. When did you receive your Mastery in the same subject?”
“In 1988 closer toward the end of the year,” Grant replied. “In the fall of 1989 was when I began my first teaching position in my alma mater in the US.”
“And you only stayed with them for a year?” Dumbledore asked. “You also seem to have several other short tenures at schools, the longest being three years at an academy in Japan.”
“Mostly since I am so young, I tend to be hired for more temporary positions,” Grant explained. “The dueling professor at the United States Acadmey of International Magical Arts went on a year sabbatical. The Old Edo Academy in Japan kept me on for three years, but a elder Japanese master requested to come and teach and as the youngest teacher there, I was asked to leave in favor of him. I taught at Beauxbatons for a year in leau of a medical emergency. My last posting at the Germany Academy of Dueling I was also asked to leave, because some of the more tenured teachers claimed I was favoring the female students.”
“And were you?” asked Professor McGonagall, looking up from one of the lesson plans she had in her hands.
“In my opinion, no. I have an open door policy toward helping my students. The trouble with that was that more young women came to me asking me for help than the young men. When they began to do better in their classes, I can’t say what the other teachers were thinking, but evidently they did not like it.” The room fell silent for a moment before Umbridge spoke up again,
“Hem, hem, Ms. Grant you do seem to place quite a bit of emphasis on practical use of defensive magic,” she remarked.
“I thought I fairly evenly split the theory and practical application,” Ms. Grant replied.
“Of course, dear, what I only meant was do you believe it is necessary to have so much practical application?” John felt a chill go up his spine; clearly the ministry woman was up to something, because many of the staff members, the Slytherin alumna and Madam Goshawk looked like they were about to protest. But they never got a chance as Ms. Grant replied,
“My personal feelings aside, it’s an educational law in that for classes in which spell material is being used, and students will be tested on their abilities to cast and maintain spell work, the class must be split as well as can be determined by the professor, into half theory and half application.” The room went silent and Madame Goshawk sank into her seat with a smug look on her face, and Umbridge’s smile tightened on her face.
“And which law might this be?” Umbridge asked.
“Educational Law 984e,” Ms. Grant said. “I researched it along with the OWL requirements so I would know how I should build up my lesson plans. It’s right about the law that states: Any direct interference in the staffing, education of students, by disturbing curriculum, testing or otherwise by an official or officials of the Ministry for Magic of Great Britain, shall be considered unlawful and charged regardless of position with a year in Azkaban and restitution paid to Hogwarts for damage in education done. You need a unanimous vote of the Wizengamot to change either of the laws, Madame.”
Many of the professors, Madame Goshawk and the Slytherin Alumna looked so proud they could burst. But Umbridge was turning very pink, such that she was almost red in the face.
“Well, then, are there any further questions?” Dumbledore inquired. No one raised anything, so he said, “Very well, then, Ms. Grant, I believe you promised a demonstration of your abilities, though considering the circumstances I was wondering if you would allow Filius to duel you.”
“It would be an honor to duel Grand High Master Flitwick,” Ms. Grant said standing, and removing her coat and satchel from the chair. She waved her wand, and the table and chair flew toward the wall, and neatly stacked themselves there. The professors and ministry officials began to rise and so the students followed suite and stepped away as the chairs and tables were moved with magic. Flitwick approached Grant and inquired,
“Would you care for a simple five minute warded match? That way we do not need to declare a winner.” Grant grinned.
“You think that highly of me, Master Flitwick?”
“If my eyes are to be believed, then yes.”
“Then I accept the offer of a Warded Dueling Match to be held for the duration of five minutes.” The two shook on it, and Flitwick turned to the Slytherin Alumna.
“Andromeda, I do believe you are a certified judge of these matches, yes?”
“Of course, Filius,” Andromeda replied. “But in a warded match I would only look for spells that are not permitted in the official dueling handbook, correct? Which does not say much if I remember correctly.”
“Yes, yes, spot on!” Flitwick squeaked. He joined Grant in drawing blue glowing lines in a large rectangle on the ground. John inched closer to Andromeda, though she noticed him doing so when he was a few feet away.
“Yes Mr. Potter?”
“I was wonder, what is a Warded Dueling Match?” he inquired.
“Grant!” Andromeda called. “Teaching moment for you: define a Warded Dueling Match.”
“Based on the regulation handbook for international duelers, a Warded Dueling Match occurs inside a set of wards, mostly for the safety of those watching, for a set period of time agreed upon by the duelers,” Grant defined continuing to draw what John assumed to be ward lines. “The rules of such a match state that almost anything goes that will not, within reason of course, seriously injure or kill an opponent.”
“Why within reason?” Cedric asked.
“Well, Mr. Diggory, it is a duel, you are trying to hit your opponent with spells to disable them,” Grant replied. “They will be hurt to some extent.” Flitwick and Grant finished drawing the blue lines and when they connected their wands, the blue glow rose to the sky-ceiling of the great hall.
“Duelers, to start!” Andromeda called. Flitwick and Grant walked to the middle of the blue square, and raised their wands in front of their faces. “Make mark!” The wands came away, both bowed then about faced and walked so that they were nearly to the edge of the wards, and took their fighting stances. “DUEL!”
John was not sure how to describe the next five minutes. His eyes kept shifting back and forth, trying to keep up with the spell work in front of him, but it seemed impossible and only made his eyes hurt. Andromeda leaned over and whispered, “I do believe the word you’re looking for is melee.” At five minutes she called a stop, and once the smoke cleared she called, “Back to start!” Flitwick and Grant returned to the center of the square and bowed to one another again. “Off point! Well done, both of you!” Professor Flitwick began shaking Ms. Grant’s hand in earnest.
“Oh well done Ms. Grant! Well done!”
“Very well done indeed!” Dumbledore said, breaking the wards. “I believe I can informally offer you a place during this upcoming term, Ms. Grant. Of course, we will need to discuss the finer details and your contract, but perhaps we shall leave that for when you have not just dueled a grand high master.”
“Thank you very much, Headmaster,” Ms. Grant said, reaching out to shake Dumbledore’s hand. As some of the other faculty began to crowd around and congratulate Ms. Grant, Luna slipped her hand into John’s and nodded toward the door.
“I’ll let them know you’ve slipped out,” Andromeda said. “And you can send Dumbledore a patronus when you get where you’re going.”
“Thank you,” John said, walking with Luna toward the entry hall. They slipped out onto the Hogwarts lawn and made for the lake. There was a spot on the grass that was still a beautiful shade of green, and Luna seated herself on it, John flopping down next to her.
“I received a letter from Harriet last week, you know,” Luna said. “She told me about her summer plans. I was wondering how they were going?” John blinked for a moment, but Luna’s stare told him all that he needed to know.
“She’s well, as far as she’s told me,” John said. “We have not had any correspondence since she left.” Luna nodded and looked out over the lake.
“Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?”
“No, I can’t say that I do.” Luna said nothing, and did not blink. “Luna, you know it’s not you she doesn’t trust. She’s trying to protect us both.” Luna turned back toward him, blinking suddenly, a few tears dripping down her face. John reached out and wrapped his arms around her, letting Luna sniffle into his chest. “We’ll get through this together won’t we? We’ll look after each other while Harriet isn’t here to do it for us.” Luna nodded into his chest not saying a word. “Come on. Let’s go down to Hogsmead and then we’ll floo you home. I’ll send Dumbledore a patronus on the way.”
“No, let’s go back to the castle,” Luna said, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “You’ll get in trouble if you cast a patronus for that Umbridge woman to see. Besides, I have a feeling.” John smiled back at her and stood up, pulling her up with him.
“I’ll race you then!”
“Good idea!” Luna exclaimed before she took off running. They ran up the grassy hills, but as they ran John noticed that it was getting colder around them, and he felt fear creeping up his back, he stopped at the foot of the final hill up to the castle and turned back to look. When he did Luna pulled at him, and they ran for real, as fast as they could to the entry hall. When they finally made it inside the castle doors the chill was almost upon them and John almost did not have the strength to make it into the Great Hall and shout,
“Dementors!” Luna still pulled him along so they would make it further into the group and before an adult could question his sanity, black cloaked figures floated into the room, making it suddenly very cold. Grant, reacted first, but the other professors and adults also raised their wands and shouted,
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Against so many patroni, the dementors did not stand a chance. Still, they had gotten close enough that the younger children were very much shaken, and even Luna tremored in her spot.
“We need chocolate,” John said, as Dennis Creevy clung to his leg releasing a very warm wetness onto John’s pants. Madame Pomphrey called for a house elf and bustled around checking everyone for serious injury. She very quietly cleaned both Dennis and John when she handed them a large slab of chocolate.
“I want to go home,” Dennis muttered around his mouth full of chocolate, hiccupping, tears streaming down his face.
“You did great Dennis,” John told him, kneeling down. “I passed out the first time a dementor got that close to me.” Luna took a handkerchief and wiped Dennis’ tears away and Professor McGonagall came to apparate him back home.
“Though I think, Mr. Creevy, we had better floo to Hogsmead. Follow me please.” Dennis took her hand and McGonagall did not protest. Cedric came to them once they had left and asked,
“Did you see how they got here?”
“I didn’t even notice them until we had almost gotten back to the castle,” John admitted. “It was almost like they came out of no where.”
“Azkaban isn’t so far from Hogwarts,” Penelope whispered, joining the conversation. “Well relatively speaking. It’s somewhere in the North Sea that’s close to Scotland that is, and much as the Ministry loathes to admit it, we don’t actually know how to control the dementors that well. They could have just come here.”
“In any case, Snape, Grant and Hagrid are going to make sure they don’t get too far before the ministry can come and round them up,” Cedric said. “My dad’s already gone to get some others to help him. Merlin, it’s all really happening, isn’t it? That stuff we saw in the graveyard, what you said happened after I got knocked out? He’s back.”
“The Prophet’s saying not to worry,” Penelope whispered.
“The Prophet is a rag,” said the sixth year Slytherin boy. “He’s back all right. I’ve already gotten subtle offers to join.”
“Going to?” John asked.
“I’m Slytherin, not stupid. My parents are putting in for jobs in the US while the ministry’s still playing stupid and letting people out.” He held out his hand to John. John took it and gripped it firmly. “Whatever happens to you Potter, good luck, you always seem to get mixed in the middle of things.” He released John and turned back to the adults who were still whispering to one another. “It’s a pity though that I might not get to learn from Grant. I’ve heard good things.”
“From whom, exactly?” Cedric asked, his eye brows furrowing.
“Duelists,” the Slytherin replied. “I’m training up, well, I was, to go on the British circuit and hopefully make it to the international league. Maybe she can recommend some American coaches for me.” He shrugged. “Either way, I think it’s time for us to go.” Penelope nodded furiously, and moved toward the nearest floo with the boy.
“I’m going to wait for my dad,” Cedric said.
“I think I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore and then I’m going to take Luna home.” John looked at the adults for a moment and dropped his voice. “Cedric, can I write to you, so we can talk about… things?” Cedric frowned.
“I still don’t like what happened,” he said. “Just so we’re clear about that. Your sister was right about one thing: nowhere in the sorting song does it say we are nice. That was supposed to be my victory. But…” Cedric sighed. “Things are changing. I realize that we’re going to have to start picking sides, and you are on the right side, John Potter. I don’t like it, and this doesn’t make us friends. But we can be allies, and maybe learn to trust each other. Yes you can right about ‘things’.” John nodded and shook hands with Cedric before he moved with Luna toward Dumbledore.
“Professor, may I take Luna home?” John asked. “She’s quite shaken, and I understand everyone is very busy with the incident right now. I’ll floo back home from the Weasleys.” Dumbledore considered him for a moment and then nodded.
“Very well. Be safe, Mr. Potter, Ms. Lovegood. The fireplace in the entry hall has no doubt been lit, so you may use that one.” John walked, with Luna gripping his hand tightly, to the floo, and stepped in with her, shouting,
“The Burrow!”
