Rolanda Recalls
"It was so damn plucky of them!" Rolanda Hooch, former star player of the Holyhead Harpies, has lost none of the old fire. "Things were pretty grim, that year. What with the Carrows and Snape – well, we know better now, of course, but at the time … Severus was damn convincing, that's all I can say. And yes, we helped the students."
Was that because of the attempted theft, or did they get instructions from Harry? We all know that Harry bonded with some of the teachers. The more – how shall I put it? – genetically-challenged teachers, especially. Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid. So very understandable in one whose often tragic fate has been to stand out from all others. As scarred on the inside as he is on the outside. A lonely boy with a mission. Did he involve the teachers?
"Definitely not," Professor Hooch asserts, with a somewhat overdone show of insistence. "We didn't hear of Harry till the day of the Battle. No, after the theft we were talking about it – among ourselves. Let's see, who was there? Filius Flitwick, Horace Slughorn, Poppy Pomfrey, and myself.
"I don't know how the conversation went or who said what. Someone said it was too dangerous, and that made me just so angry. So I said we had to help them, and over the following weeks we found more and more ways of doing just that. Poppy made potions and cures for them. Murtlap. Sleeping draughts. Painkillers. Filius secretly gave them dueling lessons. Professor McGonagall taught them Occlumency and helped with the dueling. And she gathered vital information about the Carrows' plans, and even Snape's, occasionally.
"I worked quite closely with Peeves and with the Ghosts. The ghosts were good sources of information too, and Peeves … well, you know him. He has his uses.
"In the end, Filius was more or less the leader of our group. You should talk to him, really."
Of course my readers will find the interview with Professor Flitwick a fascinating read. Is it a coincidence that the leader of the Teachers' Resistance is rumoured to have Goblin blood? If Harry Potter was in touch with his former teachers – and officially, this is denied – wouldn't he stay true to his well-known preferences?
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"I don't know how the conversation went or who said what." Well, I did a good job, then. That was exactly how we planned it. Severus and I, I mean.
New Year's Eve. That's when we set it all up. I went to see him, as we had agreed, shortly after dinner. He sat in that bleak office of his. That should be an inaccurate description, because quite a lot of Albus's artifacts were still around. And all of the paintings. The desk. The books. He had just changed the red curtains. Gryffindor-red, it was supposed to be. Gryffindor, my foot! Albus understood coziness, that's why he had those warm, velvety, soft furnishings. Severus had a pale grey with some green and silver accents. Very understated accents, it was mostly pale grey. As chosen by the most stylish of funeral parlours. And yet, with only those few changes, the office exuded bleakness. Or its then occupant did.
You'll understand that I came prepared. I brought two decent, soft leather chairs. Two side tables. A bottle of mead and one of Firewhiskey. Some nibbles. Some cheese. And a small cauldron of spicy, sherry-laced pumpkin soup. His one weakness. Even as a small boy, he would … well … pig out, there's no other word for it, when that was on the menu.
He just stared as I unpacked and Enlarged each of these items. "You wouldn't deny a poor old man his few comforts?" I whined. "On New Year's Eve? I've so little left as it is…"
"So little left?" he queried. "Have you decided to give up comforts by way of a New Year's Resolution? How admirable. I'll help you. That special time-table that gives you Friday afternoons off, I'll be glad to change that. And if you want to do the thing properly, I'll oblige you to set each class a written essay at least once a month, instead of once a term, as you do now. You'll enjoy the marking. By the time it's Lent …"
"By that time," I interrupted him, "I'll do what I always do for Lent: I give up my New Year's resolutions."
To my surprise, he laughed out loud at that. And sat down in one of the chairs. He Accio'ed two glasses – I knew I had forgotten something – and poured a generous measure of mead for both of us. The whole Sword-business had worked admirably. "Did you manage to make it difficult for Potter?" I asked, for that had been Albus's instruction. Potter had to work hard – for something that had to be offered on a plate, in a totally safe manner. Typically Albus.
"Oh, rather," Severus said, smiling that special little smile of his – the one that makes you think about Shield Charms. "At first," he continued, still smiling, "I thought about the top of a tree. However, given Potter's various Quidditch Catastrophes, anything off the ground seemed … injudicious, in view of the safety requirements. Then I thought about a beast – but any beast close to the Chosen one suffers death or worse. He is not, I think, an animal-lover."
I raised a questioning eyebrow – no rumours had ever reached me, and that's saying something.
Severus readily explained. "They either seem to get too drowsy to function, like Cerberus – you know about the Philosopher's stone? Or they get speared on Godric's Sword, like that Basilisk; sentenced to death, like the Hippogriff; or, worse of all, a perfectly innocent-looking rat turns out to be Pettigrew and I get stuck with him. And believe me, he is vermin. Even the Flobberworms looked decidedly peaky when Potter had to look after them.
"So I decided against animals – I'm not a cruel man, I should hope. I put the Sword at the bottom of a nearly frozen lake. Clearly visible, close to the shore, nothing more vulnerable than frogs living there. All he had to do was strip … and dip."
Well, Potter seemed to have done just that, amidst much wailing and chattering of teeth, as Severus claimed. I doubt the wailing a bit – but there was no point in telling Severus. He'd made up his mind about Potter a long time ago.
Then, well, after several more glasses of mead, and when the cauldron of pumpkin soup was quite empty, he said could he ask me a favour. I said of course he could -- with some trepidation. He's as hard on others as he is on himself. But it turned out to be a feasible, even an entertaining task.
He wanted a puppet-player. Someone to pull the strings, to make things happen. Well, that was right up my street.
"First," he said, "I'll need to control that so-called 'Army' somewhat. I need to know what they're up to, I need to make sure that the other teachers assist them and help them hide, if necessary – there's only so much even I can do about the Carrows."
And then he said something completely outrageous – at least, that's what I thought then.
"This can be accomplished through Rolanda Hooch."
Well, you could have knocked me down with a quill. Hooch! Great player in her day, of course, and quite good as a flying instructor, but in conspiracies … she has this reputation for impishness … loving a party … having a bit too much on occasions … you know …a bit of a wild child … not the person to trust with a secret.
"Yes, Hooch," Severus stated firmly. "You'll start a conversation on the theft of the Sword, with several teachers present, but Rolanda must be there. She's just impetuous enough to flare up and to forget who started it. You'll claim that nothing can be done – that it's too dangerous. Rolanda will want to do things. But she won't start at once – she's not as foolish as that. She'll think about the possible risks – for all concerned.
"And then she'll discuss the whole thing with Minerva. And Minerva, because she is a Gryffindor, because it's Rolanda who asks, will get involved. She'll set up a decent system. She'll have Poppy rustle up some proper treatment for the children. She'll get Filius involved. Filius is vital, he and Minerva are the most experienced duelists we have – and the one thing you can't teach on your own or with a student as example, is what a duel really is about.
"Remind me to tell you about that time I kindly assisted Lockhart with a dueling lesson – it's quite a funny story. Potter helped, too, but that time it only cost us a snake."
I nearly choked on my mead, I can tell you. True, if Rolanda would involve Minerva -- most unlikely, I thought, since Minerva is rather prim and proper, and Rolanda is … erm … not -- and if Minerva, on the strength of that talk, would turn into the Hogwarts Resistance leader, things might well work out as Severus thought. Exceedingly competent, is Minerva. But there were quite a few ifs .
"What makes you think," I tried carefully, "that Rolanda would choose Minerva McGonagall as her confidante?"
His answer took my breath away. "They're lovers," he said. "And Minerva can't refuse Rolanda anything. It's why we had the loopiest commentator in the history of Quidditch, during last year's final match. It's why we lost a rather valuable crystal chandelier during the Umbridge period."
He saw my surprised stare and explained, or thought he explained, but it's still a mystery to me: "On his own, Peeves would never have found out that the chandelier unscrewed the other way. Minerva would do anything to make Rolanda smile - believe me."
And, crazy as it sounds, everything happened exactly as Severus foretold. Well, you've just read that, haven't you? Now, I wonder, what did Miss Skeeter get from Filius? Let's see.
A/N Next week's episode: interviews with both Filius Flitwick AND Harry Potter!
