Chapter One: Sortings and Secrets
Pausing on my way to the Great Hall, I leaned against the deep well of the window casement to watch the flood of students clogging the stairs below. Pulled by skeletal black thestrals, the first row of carriages rolled further along the drive to make room for more carriages coming up behind. One of these disgorged the only adult among the throng. I squinted, trying to make him out through the ancient glass, but it was blurred and the darkening sky was scarcely held back by the torches burning on the castle walls.
A light tap of my wand and a whispered, i "Oculus claro!" /i cleared my view as the little diamonds of glass squirmed and reshaped themselves to bring the image closer. Now I could see the scruffy hair and lined face of the man below. His clothes looked as if they'd been put to hard use and only a powerful charm could have kept his battered suitcase in one piece. I suppose I don't much like to dress up for a long journey either, but he would not be making much of an impression on his future students. I brushed at the sea green robe I'd purchased--with almost my last knut--for tonight's ceremony, in the hopes it would give me confidence. Perhaps he was more self-assured than me. It wouldn't be hard. Dumbledore, our Headmaster, certainly seemed to place great faith in him: his comments in staff meetings were always glowing and he spoke his name with a glitter of anticipation in his eyes.
The new professor exchanged words with several of the students and then paused with one foot on the lowest step and gazed up at the castle. Instinctively, I pulled my head back, grazing my forehead on the window well. I cursed and soon, despite my caution, found myself leaning forward again to look. He was still there. A worn man in brown robes, pale and contemplative. Assuming he was who I thought he was, he was not at all what I had expected.
The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was late arriving for the term. The rest of the faculty had been required to be back from holiday early. I had spent the two weeks preparing my curriculum, reviewing student records, and helping with the maintenance required by the ancient building. Maybe it was memories of my own DADA lessons. Maybe it was resentment that a fellow staff person seemed above pitching in with the rest of us to extricate the chizpurfles that infested the teapots in the divination tower, but I had expected him to appear as dark and dangerous as his subject. Instead he gave a small smile and began the ascent.
"So the students have descended on us." said a low, slightly nasal voice behind me. I jerked and turned to see another one of my colleagues, Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master. He stepped a trifle too close to me to glance down out the window. "And they are not the only ones, I see."
I frowned at the detestation in his voice. Not every teacher had to love their profession, but if he was that tired of it, a sabbatical might be in order. This close, his black hair had a greasy sheen, and there was a sickly sweet scent clinging to his robes that made me wonder what he'd been brewing. I took a step sideways to reestablish a comfortable space between us.
Severus tapped the window with his own wand, releasing my viewing charm. "Looks can be deceiving," he said.
My heart took an extra thump. Was he referring to me or to the view below? I couldn't think of any way I might have slipped up already. I was too practiced at hiding. A bland smile fluttered on my face in answer, noncommittal and ingratiating.
Severus turned from me and the window, starting to walk away. "The Sorting take place soon. I'd suggest we get to the Hall now."
"Yes, of course."
He walked along beside me. I tried to avoid the feeling that I was being herded by asking how long the traditions of Sorting had been in place at Hogwarts. Severus's answers were short. Polite but not very informative. His face was tight, more secretive than usual, and there was a stiffness to his walk I'd never noticed before.
I let the matter drop. We were at the Great Hall anyway, entering through one of the teachers' doors behind the head table. I admit, I gasped at first glance. I had only seen the massive hall in its empty expectant state; now it was filling with students taking their places at four long tables. Candles floated overhead beneath a ravishing sky, and the filmy mist of ghosts swooped around shouting out welcomes.
Severus pulled out a chair, offered it to me, and then sat next to me, clasping his hands together under the wide sleeves of his robes and leaning his chin on them, eyes hooded. We both surveyed the students. I had been home schooled myself, and then went to a very small school in Europe for an internship where I was eventually hired on for a few years, until I got too homesick. It was nothing compared to the size of Hogwarts. So many young people…my imaginings hadn't been anywhere near reality. The swarm paused at a sharp voice that I recognized as Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She called out several names, and a boy and girl pushed backward against the crowd to follow her away.
"Not what you expected?" Severus asked. Before I could answer, he added, "I wouldn't be intimidated. Many of them are hardly worthy of effort."
"I don't know. Sometimes people can surprise you," I said, refusing to allow his bored experience to dampen my anticipation.
Professor Binns floated in and sat down next to me, if that describes what ghosts do. I asked him some more questions about Hogwarts' traditions, and he responded at great length. With an interested look fixed on my face, I avoided more sour conversation with Severus while I darted glances at the hall and my other colleagues. As the room settled down, the Dark Arts teacher came in quietly and took the last seat at the head table. He had not changed clothes. I noticed Dumbledore, our headmaster, give him a happy nod which he returned pleasantly.
The diminutive Professor Flitwick entered with a low stool and a wizard hat so old and tattered it looked like it might have come straight from the Dark Arts teacher's suitcase. The hat was carefully placed on the stool where it seemed to shudder and perch a bit stiffer; the official Sorting ceremony began. One by one the first year students were called up and the hat was placed on their heads, then after a moment in which it quite appeared to be thinking, the brim opened into a mouth and announced which of Hogwart's four houses each student was assigned to.
Once the ceremony was over and the first years had found their places at the proper tables the headmaster stood up and adjusted his spectacles. The room hushed instantly, attentive young faces flushed with excitement and shimmering in the candlelight. Their eagerness quickly changed to consternation as, after welcoming them, he told them about the dementors surrounding the grounds this term. A dangerous criminal named Sirius Black had escaped from the prison of Azkaban and was still on the loose, leading to this extremity. These fearsome creatures were supposed to be guarding Hogwarts, but I wasn't the only professor who worried the students might be in need of greater protection from the dementors themselves than any outside threat. It had been a subject of heated debate in the previous week. Sitting next to Albus Dumbledore, Minerva's thin lips were compressed even thinner in disapproval of the arrangement. A fellow Scot, I'd already decided she was a good model for me to follow. I glanced at Severus but his face was impassive.
"On a happier note," said Dumbledore, "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year."
I straightened in anticipation, pushing a loose wisp of hair away from my face. When I'd told my Dad I'd got the position, he had sung a little piece of a Muggle song about 'movin' on up to the big time'.
"Oh, that's just grand," he'd added. "My girl working for Dumbledore, who would have thought? Dumbledore's a good man and that's for certain. You can trust him, Nerissa. He's not the sort to go clipin' to the Ministry if you tell him."
"No, Dad, absolutely not."
My mouth went dry. I grabbed the goblet of water set in front of me and gulped it down. Dumbledore caught me with my mouth full so that I dribbled down my chin as he said, "First, Professor Muir, who has taken up the challenge of reviving a course of study not seen at Hogwarts for many years: the ancient art of Chanting."
There was a smattering of polite applause; Severus muttered something pleasant in intonation.
"Almost a century," Professor Binns put in quietly. "Gwendolyn Screech was the last Chanting teacher we had. She had studied in Vienna, as I recall…" He trailed off on a monologue no one else heeded because Dumbledore had gone on.
"Second, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Polite applause returned, marked by a cluster of more enthusiastic clapping from the Gryffindor table. Lupin smiled in a boyish, modest fashion. A hiss of breath caught my attention, and I turned to see Severus glaring down the table toward the DADA teacher with hate-narrowed eyes. I had heard him being gently rebuffed by Dumbledore when he'd brought up the matter of teaching the Dark Arts himself. He was angry then, but I didn't realize his disappointment was still so raw. I was so startled I barely heard Dumbledore announce the appointment of Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper, to teach Care of Magical Creatures. But the students heard it and the enthusiastic cheering made their earlier politeness that much more empty. Well, they all knew Hagrid already and I too had found him to be a generous simple soul. I didn't begrudge him his admirers as his eyes teared up and he blew his nose on the tablecloth.
Suddenly great platters of food appeared on the tables, laden with golden roasted turkeys, steaming lakes of gravy, tender bubbling pies, bedewed greens, ruddy apples and creamy cheeses. I tucked in, glad to see my water had also been refilled. Incapable of feasting himself, Professor Binns continued his monologue about all my Chanting predecessors.
----------------------------
He caught me in the hallway after the feast, attempting to introduce himself as young bodies streamed around us. The din was unbelievable as students rushed the corridors to get to their respective houses. Several of the suits of armor protested being banged into. "Have a care, you lot!"
He yelled his name as he put out his hand. "Remus Lupin, and you are Nerissa Muir." I took his hand at the same time as I was jostled from behind, shoving me into him. This close I could see exhaustion lining his face, that and the gray that already flecked his light brown hair made him look older than he probably was.
"Perhaps introductions would be better over a quiet cup of tea," he suggested loudly. "But I'm afraid I can't offer you one tonight. I need to unpack and I'm afraid my recent illness hasn't given me much time to prepare my lessons for tomorrow."
"Oh, of course! We all need a good night's sleep." I berated myself for resenting his not helping with preparations when I could see he'd been seriously ill.
"Another time, then?" It was a promise.
"Yes, certainly."
He let go and allowed the stream of students to carry him away. I turned and went further down the hall to a smaller staircase that led to my office and private rooms. Severus was standing at the foot of it, arms crossed, wand in hand; since his own rooms were the other direction and down below, I wondered if he was waiting for me. The torches on the wall guttered, sending out greasy black coils of smoke.
Severus regarded me intently, dark eyes glittering in his sallow face. "Did you enjoy the Sorting?"
"Yes, it was very interesting. It looked like Slytherin gained some fine members."
"All the greatest wizards have come out of Slytherin." It was his own house. He stepped closer. "I wonder where the Sorting hat would have put you?" He flicked his wand, and the smoke from the torches thickened and curled into an apparition of the battered hat that floated over my head.
I gave a light-hearted laugh and waved my hand through the apparition, shredding the smoke which dissolved away. I had wondered the same thing but not in the same way. The Sorting hat seemed to be able to read the students character, their hearts. I didn't know what it would do with someone like me.
"I would be careful, if I were you," Severus said.
I frowned. "You mean the dementors? I can do a patronus spell though I've never had practical occasion to use it." I didn't particularly want any of them to see what form my patronus took either.
"Let's just say that some people at Hogwarts have nasty little secrets."
My mouth opened, but I was too startled to reply before he swirled on his heel and was gone.
-------------------------------
Wednesday afternoon, I slumped in a chair in the staff room and shoved my wand into the disheveled bun of my hair with my ears still hurting from my first lesson with the sixth years. Several of the other faculty were taking a break too: reviewing notes, snacking on biscuits, or reading the Daily Prophet.
"You look like you could use that cup of tea I promised you," said a kind, slightly hoarse voice. "Sixth years that rough?"
I looked up to see Professor Lupin standing over me, a full cup on a flowered saucer extended toward me. He appeared more rested and his tatty appearance fit in well with the faded mismatched chairs and old rubbed paneling of the staff room. I decided he looked comfortable, like an unmade bed, and the thought made me smile.
"Thanks," I said sincerely, accepting the cup.
He extended his other hand with a Dutch blue bowl. "Sugar?"
"No, thank you, Professor."
"Please, call me Remus."
"I'll have some more, Remus," said Minerva from where she was sitting with a pair of knitting needles hanging in the air in front of her, clicking out a red and gold striped Gryffindor scarf. He walked over and offered the sugar bowl to her. She shook her head, pulled out a small bottle from an inner pocket and tipped a splash of red currant rum into her cup. "Takes the edge off of first week collywobbles," she confided to me and resettled her square glasses in an imperious fashion.
Professor Lupin set the sugar bowl down on a table, picked up a cup of tea in yet a third china pattern, and perched on the frayed arm of a chair next to me.
"I passed by yesterday morning. What I heard from the passage didn't sound so bad," Lupin said encouragingly.
I nodded, admitting that was true. "Those were the first years….all four of them." As an 'enrichment' program supplemental to the regular curriculum, I relied on students volunteering to take my subject. There would be no O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s awarded this year I had envisioned a classroom bursting with eager young voices, excited by the opportunity to study an endangered art, instead there was a smattering of students in each session, hesitant, doubtful, and frightfully awful at singing.
"It will take awhile for word to get around, Nerissa," said Minerva. "You have a lovely voice and you came highly recommended from the Academie. Hermione Granger--she's a third year--was in my office just this morning asking if she could add your course to her schedule this term."
"Did you say yes?" I asked hopefully.
"She'll be joining you next week."
I felt grateful for any additions.
Lupin said, "There. I may sign up myself, if you'd consider adult education."
"Just what we need: another opportunity to listen to you howl," snorted Severus from the far side of the room.
I felt my face get warmer: so he considered my art to be nothing but howling. Up to now he had seemed crusty but friendly enough. He'd even given me a spare cauldron when I discovered mine had cracked on the journey and wouldn't hold water long enough to rinse out my socks. Apparently he'd just been covering his contempt.
Minerva made a clicking sound as sharp as her needles. "Now, Severus, you'll give Nerissa the wrong impression."
His nostrils flared but he didn't reply.
"That's why I need tutoring," Lupin added mildly, as though the comment had been directed at him. He'd never taken his eyes off me during the exchange. They were warm and brown, with crows' feet at the corners. "He's right, I'm no better than the sixth years."
"The younger generation has let Chanting slip into obscurity." Minerva added disapprovingly. "You should be proud, Nerissa. Chanting is a fine Orcadian tradition."
My tea had cooled enough to sip. It was hard not to gulp it down; thanks to the stress, I was thirsty all the time. "I guess there are advantages to living in the hinterlands. We're so far behind the times we sometimes do come back into fashion."
Lupin picked up the Daily Prophet that was folded on the seat of the chair he perched on. He went to move it out of his way but paused. He put his tea down on the tiny table between us instead, glanced at me, and unfolded the paper as he sat down. He was frowning as his face disappeared behind it, scanning an article with intense interest.
I frowned too, disappointed that our conversation was over before it had really begun. Severus' rudeness only made me more eager for a friendly face. Minerva was now focused on adding fringe to her knitting. In the corner, Professor Sinistra and the school nurse were intent on a particularly violent game of wizard chess. I sighed and took another sip of tea.
Lupin crinkled the paper as he opened it to pursue the rest of the article. My hand brought the tea cup back down to the saucer with a shaky rattle. Now I could see the front page where a frog-faced woman appeared to be giving a lecture from a podium under the trumpeting headline: "Ministry Ponders New Restrictions on Half-breeds" and below that in slightly smaller print I could read, "Senior Undersecretary Umbridge vows to protect the public." The tea turned sour in my stomach. How many more restrictions could there be? Feeling myself being watched, I looked around; Severus was staring at me again.
Even worse, he got up and glided over toward me. Had the disgust been apparent in my face? "Well, it's time I got back to the dungeon otherwise someone like Longbottom might get there before me and start blowing things up. Good article, Lupin?"
Professor Lupin made no comment as he folded the paper down and set it on the floor beside him.
"You really should read it," Severus instructed me in an insistent sort of hiss, his face snirled up. "It's far more informative than the i Prophet's /i usual sort of drivel."
"Enjoy your class, Severus," said Lupin. He also received a sneer that was, if anything, worse than the one he'd made concerning the i Daily Prophet. /i
Severus stomped out. In the silence that followed, Minerva's face was pinched but she didn't miss a stitch. Lupin cleared his throat. "I apologize for Professor Snape. He has had to take on extra work since my arrival, preparing a potion to help me with my illness."
"I-I see." My gaze flickered to the paper slumped on the floor. "Could I read it though?"
He reached down and handed it to me, face impassive. The knot in my stomach tightened as I read, stiffening my spine. If this Umbridge woman was successful with her proposed legislation, it would be almost impossible for half-humans to find employment or housing outside of strictly controlled Ministry of Magic flats. I could well imagine what they would look like. Maybe my parents had been right to live in the outer islands, as hidden from governmental attention as from Muggles.
I was still reading when Minerva stated, "I think it's ridiculous nonsense. Some people haven't got enough to do in their own lives and spend far too much time worrying about everyone else's."
"Thank you, Minerva," Lupin replied softly.
I peered over the paper at him. "You don't agree with this--this article?"
"No," he said. "I don't."
I lowered the Prophet further, meeting his eyes, "I don't either."
"Good."
The knot loosened and I found a smile.
"Another cuppa?" he asked a little too heartily.
"No…no, thank you, I actually need to be getting back myself." I stood up hastily, spilling the Daily Prophet onto the floor. I stooped to gather it up with Lupin helping. I ended up with a wadded mass of paper in my arms. I looked around for somewhere to put it and then stuffed it down onto the chair I'd just vacated. I stood there awkwardly while the paper slowly unfolded, like a just squashed spider whose legs were still moving.
"Before you go," said Minerva. "Would you be a dear and get me another ball of wool from the wardrobe?"
"Certainly," I replied, grateful to switch focus. There was an old wardrobe at the end of the room near where Severus had been sitting. I went to it, and as I put my hand on the little boar-shaped doorknob to pull it open, the cupboard jumped. I yanked my hand back. It wobbled again and hopped an inch away from the wall. I backed up a step.
"What's that?" said Professor Sinistra, with a long-suffering sigh. "A boggart again?"
Lupin hurried over, pulling out his wand. "I'll get rid of it."
"That's alright." Boggarts give me the willies. But I dragged my own wand out of my hair with false bravado. "I can do it." I stretched out my arm and, with a sudden flash of my worst fear on display for my new colleagues, my nerve faltered. The wardrobe rocked and a scrabbling sound like claws came from within. I took another step back so I was beside Lupin. "Actually, I'm really not that good at it, why don't you go ahead."
He brushed his hair out of his eyes and aimed his wand at the cupboard, the point glittering. I winced in anticipation.
No boggart was forthcoming. I glanced at Lupin.
He was tapping his chin thoughtfully with his wand. "This boggart might make an excellent first lesson for my third years tomorrow. Minerva, do you think you could find some other wool so I could leave it there till then?"
"I'd ask Albus's permission about leaving it; otherwise, I don't mind myself," she said.
With a rumbling growl, the wardrobe shuddered and the wood creaked with the strain.
"Maybe I should, well, calm it for awhile then, so it won't bother anyone until tomorrow," I offered. That much I could do easily without having to open the door and face my fears. Or let everyone else see what they were.
He eyed the wardrobe speculatively. "That might be wise."
I licked my lips, thinking fast, and settled on a lullaby my mother used to sing to me. I took a deep breath, spread my arms, and began to weave the sounds in the air, wrapping the chant around the wardrobe until the rattling ceased.
"Very nice," said Lupin softly.
"Thank you."
Scrutinizing her knitting over her square spectacles, Minerva intoned solemnly, "Music hath charms to sooth the savage beast."
-------------------------
The tub was very deep. I had Chanted it deep enough and long enough that I could lay full length completely submerged if I wished to. I spun the tail of a mermaid-shaped tap and while the welcome sound of water bubbled out, I went out to my combination sitting room and bedroom and checked that the door was locked. I returned to the bath and sealed that door with a i colloportus /I charm; then I striped off my clothes and sank blissfully into my warm refuge. It wasn't like diving into the frigid waters off the rocky coast of my home but it certainly had its charms.
I felt the tension of my first full week begin to leave my body. I had survived, and while it hadn't met my fondest expectations, I was far from ready to turn in my professor's robes and fly screaming back to my father. Remembering what I'd overheard from the students in the Great Hall, I giggled. What I wouldn't have given to see Severus all dressed up in a housedress and a vulture-topped hat.
That led to thoughts of Remus Lupin. I slid down a bit further, the water level even with my chin and indulged in speculation. His disapproval of the Minstry's restrictions on half-humans replayed over and over in my mind. What Dark Art question or concern could I come up with that might justify stopping in to visit with him? Not that I would say anything directly, but he had seemed so sincere--and the intense way he'd looked at me, as if my answer was significant. Aside from the fact that he'd graduated from Hogwarts himself, and that the students always seemed to be chattering admiringly about him, I knew almost nothing at all. Yes, I definitely wanted to know more. If I was going to make Hogwarts my home, I needed as many friends as I could muster.
With a compulsive glance around to make sure I was alone and the door securely locked, I slipped under the water and stayed there.
An hour later, I walked through to my bedroom in my nightshirt, drying my hair, and froze. The door leading out to the corridor from the sitting room was cracked open. I cocked my head and heard the retreating sound of footsteps. In two bounds I was over to the door and yanked it open. I stuck my head out. The corridor was so murky I could not tell if I was seeing movement, black on black, or if my eyes were merely adjusting to the dark. I stared but there was no one there.