Open House at Hogwarts
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do I now, previously, or at any point in the foreseeable future own Harry Potter. I don't even own copies of all the books. If you sue, you will spend more in the effort then you will receive.
Story set in Harry's third year.
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"And that is why the Forbidden Forest is forbidden," Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry finished, smiling benignly and eyes twinkling madly. He did so love that story. And lemon drops. But he didn't have enough of those for all his soon-to-be students. Looking at the group of ten muggleborns, five foreign purebloods, fifteen halfbloods, and the children's parents warmed Albus's heart. The children were so innocent, eager to learn about magic and the world.
Slowly Albus realized he was being stared at and that no one was asking to hear more about the Forest or to explore it or the grounds. "Would you like to hear another story?" he asked.
Oddly the group all yelled no. Shrugging, Albus gestured to the Care of Magical Creatures class and began to lead the group towards it. Behind him, he could hear the children and parents hesitantly chatting amongst themselves.
Reaching the general area where the students were attempting to groom blast-ended skrewts, Albus began the speech Minerva had prepared for him, "Here at Hogwarts, students gain hands-on experience in many subjects including Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. Our highly trained professors do their best to insure your children's safety in these classes, but you must realize that, in order for students to reach their full potential, professors must push their students towards excellence."
At this point, he was interrupted by a student, whose robes had burst into flames, running past followed by a skrewt and Hagrid shouting for the student to calm down.
"Of course," Albus finished, a tad weakly, "accidents do happen."
With a sigh, Albus put out the student's robes before cheerily saying, "Why don't we move on to a tour of the castle?"
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Throwing open the entrance to the Great Hall, Albus strolled in, enjoying the gasps from his guests.
"This is the Great Hall where students and faculty eat. The ceiling shows the weather outside . . ." Just as he was getting to the story of how Cirrus Stratusky discovered that having ceilings mimic the weather was a less than wise decision, Peeves, who was holding a paintball gun, shot through the door. After covering half the Hall and the group in paint, Peeves flew off laughing.
Pointedly not looking at the group, Albus walked from the Hall and began making his way to Minerva's classroom, mumbling a half-hearted explanation as he went.
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Strolling through the dungeons, Albus noticed a nagging sensation that would not leave him be. He felt that something had to go wrong soon, especially after the perfect stop at Minerva's and the wonderful duel between two seventh years the group had watched in Lupin's classroom. At a tap on his shoulder from a parent, Albus realized they had reached Severus's classroom. He began humming a tune after knocking politely on the door.
"Enter," Severus intoned.
Walking in, Albus was relieved to see that no one was on fire, in tears, or in immediate danger. He began his speech quickly, hoping to escape and see this group off before something terrible happened.
"Now we shall be on our way, and I do hope to . . ." Albus trailed off as a strange smell began to fill the room and a sinking feeling made itself known in his gut. At the sound of a chair being shoved back, he turned to see Severus striding towards Neville Longbottom.
"You foolish Gryffindor, what have you done?" Severus hissed.
It was, Albus noted dully, really quite intimidating. No sooner had he thought this than Neville, in his fright, dropped the ingredient still in his hand into his cauldron. A loud boom shook the castle. Amidst the horrified screams, Albus thought that at least the group would be able to see what a wonderful medi-witch Poppy was.
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Epilogue
That year Beauxbatons and Durmstrang both had exceptionally large classes. Looking at the much smaller than usual group of first years, Albus knew where the other schools' growth came from. His start-of-year speech, he knew, had suffered for his disappointment.
"There will be no more open houses, Albus, will there? This last seemed to do more harm than good," Minerva said, interrupting his thoughts. Morosely, Albus had to agree.