Ch. 3 Hogwarts
Oh baby don't you know I suffer?
Oh baby can you hear me moan?
You caught me under false pretenses
How long before you let me go?
You set my soul alight
I thought I was a fool for no-one
Oh baby I'm a fool for you
You're the queen of the superficial
And how long before you tell the truth
~ Supermassive Black Hole by Muse
I was suddenly in a small, quaint village. But the village wasn't as I had imagined it. Instead of groups of people chatting and hustling around each other, single persons moved swiftly and silently to their destinations. Instead of loud noises and bright colors, as it had been at the Quidditch World Cup (an event I attended, along with many of my friends from Salem) it was dreary, drab and grey. Instead of friendly faces smiling warmly at me, people stared at me with wide and fearful eyes or made no notice of my presence at all. No one was dressed in bright colors; black seemed to be the predominant sentiment. Tall, dark, hooded and masked men (like those at the World Cup, I might add,) stood like sentinels, with their arms folded in front of their chests and their lips making no motion. Most of the doors around me were closed; I could find no refuge anywhere from the cold gaze of these guards. I hurried past them, in an attempt to find some sort of landmark.
I looked up and found my landmark. The majestic castle of Hogwarts rose up behind the village, on top of a pedestal of mountains and hills. Lights twinkled calmly from inside of the castle, and it was the warmest and most inviting building I could observe. Prepared for a long hike up the knolls, I shouldered my backpack and shrunk my suitcase with my wand. I placed my suitcase in my pocket, laced up my sneakers, and made a motion to start my journey.
"And just who do you think you are?" a dark, foreboding voice asked from behind me. I gave a little start, and turned around slowly. One of the sentinels hovered over me, his eyes contorted behind his mask into a glare. I shivered in fear and swallowed nervously.
"I am Maggie Johnson," I mumbled softly, "And I am here to learn about British magical customs. I have permission from your government," and I held out my permission form in my shaking hand.
The man took it irritably and perused it quickly. Scowling at finding it legitimate, he handed it back.
"Take care not to make your presence too obvious, or you might find yourself in trouble," he snarled. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, and turned to go.
"Insolence will not be tolerated!" the man roared at my back. I turned around and smirked at him.
"Insolence? Last time I checked insolence meant being disrespectful to those with authority over you. Last time I checked, you have no authority over me. Take it up with my government," I snarled back.
"I thought you would be a timid creature, easily controlled," the man approached me angrily.
"My brave side is slow-acting," I retorted, "Besides, I need to be pissed off to be fierce."
"Well, petulant girl, take care I don't see you here again," he snapped, "Stay in the school. Though you might not fare well there either. You might as well go home."
"And give in?" I laughed, almost hysterically, "Right. See ya."
I quickly turned around, and broke into a run over the hills before he could call me back. I soon cleared the village and entered a dark, brooding forest.
"Lumos," I mumbled under my breath, and my wand ignited. I held it out in front of me and slowly made my way between the branches, trees and bushes. Strange sounds filled my ears; roars and screams and growls and cries surrounded me and overwhelmed me with their pleading tones. I quickened my step through the forest, trying to conjure up some of the bravery I had just felt before the masked sentry, and found myself unable to.
The forest seemed to take forever to thin out; I felt sweat begin to form on my brow and hands as I avoided any and all mysterious shadows. When the trees finally were at acceptable distances from each other, I broke back into a run. I was eager to get out of this creepy arboreal local.
I soon reached more rolling, grassy hills. I could hear the hushed sounds of children speaking, the sound of shoed feet walking and running across pavement. A small hut met my vision first, surrounded by pumpkins, squash and other vegetables growing in almost monstrous proportions. The sound of a dog barking filled my ears, but it was comforting, familiar sound. I could also hear a very clear voice of a teenage boy, talking loudly, presumably to others. The boy sounded like he was around my age, and I turned in that direction, hoping for some sort of comfort or kind soul to take me in. I checked my disheveled appearance; and was disappointed with myself. My hair was messy and in a poofy ponytail, I had no ounce of makeup or magic on my face, my shirt was old and crummy (though with my favorite historical political cartoon on the front,) my jeans were faded and torn, and my sneakers were falling apart. My cloak was the only respectable thing about me, so I pulled it closed around my person. I walked towards the sound of the boy, which lead me around the quaint hut.
A boy, clad in red-gold-black robes, was standing up and speaking to a small group of fellow students. He had a round face with skewed teeth, and messy brown hair tousled about his face. His eyes were brown; I could tell from this distance; brown and alight with some sort of fiery passion. He waved his hands around him in fierce gesticulations as he spoke, and he spoke with an excited manner, attempting to rile his fellow students up. Next to him stood two girls, one was red-headed and freckled; the other was blonde and dressed eccentrically. The red head was also garbed in red-gold-black robes, and she supported bright brown eyes. The other girl wore blue-bronze-black robes, had long blonde hair, and had light grey eyes. She looked rather ethereal, and surprised at her appearance anywhere. As I approached, I heard both of them speak in assent to what the head boy was saying; the red-head spoke passionately, but with a hint of hidden pain behind her speech. The blonde spoke lightly, airy and like she didn't fully comprehend what was going on, though with surprising insight.
Sitting around them were other students, most in their late teens (as were they.) They were clad in black robes, either trimmed in blue-bronze, red-gold, or yellow-black. There didn't seem to be a disproportionate ratio of boys to girls, and they all seemed to be in agreement with what the head boy was saying. Some were younger students, who were more timid than the older ones. The older ones occasionally interjected the lead boy's soliloquy with their own comments. Most had accents in either British or Scottish (or variations such as Liverpoolian, Welsh etc.) though a few, including an older boy clad in the red-gold set, had Irish accents. All focused completely on the lead boy, or his two wingmen (wing-girls, I suppose.) That is, until they heard my approach.
Upon noticing the sound of footsteps, many turned around in alarm, their eyes wide with potential fear. The lead boy looked up as well, eyeing me suspiciously. However, he was in the minority; most of them looked relieved that it was, presumably, only this strange girl in disheveled attire walking towards them. But the lead boy, and the red-headed girl, watched me apprehensively as I approached the group.
"Who are you?" asked the red-headed girl, frowning at me and folding her arms in front of herself protectively.
I attempted to smile warmly, though my nature forbade such an act of assertiveness. I answered, "Maggie Johnson. Pleased to meet you," and I held out my hand to her. She, however, remained motionless.
"Where are you from?" the blonde girl asked breathlessly, with a light smile (uncommon with the others) upon her lips.
"America," I grinned, "Hence my lack of British-accent-ness."
The blonde girl nodded, and began to play with a radish attached to her ear as if it were an earring. The lead boy now spoke up.
"Why are you here? You must have realized that the country is in war," the lead boy asked coldly.
"Well," I snapped back, feeling my automatic defense coming on, "I thought it would be a good time to piss of the locals."
The face of the boy turned colder. One of the younger kids looked thoroughly frightened of me, and I sighed.
"Sorry," I muttered, "What I mean to say is, I didn't realize how bad it was, but now that I'm here I might as well stay here," I shrugged.
No one looked any less hostile, and I decided it was time for me to leave. The lead boy watched me go with the strangest facial expression; it was one of hostility mixed with fierce regret. I ignored it and walked away in a huff, scowling to myself. If I wasn't careful, I would have a fierce hatred of all things British.
I weaved between the throng of students, all of whom either ignored me or watched me with fearful curiosity. I ignored each and every facial expression as I climbed my way up to the front doors of the grand castle, which appeared even more grandiose when it was right in front of me. I opened the large oak doors and stepped inside a stoned, quiet front hall. The only students present walked past me as quietly as the dead, and they didn't even look at me. In the front of the hall stood a man, garbed in all black, with a rather lumpy appearance and a small sneer upon his face. Sick of dealing with hostile persons, I moved forward cautiously (uneager to speak with this frumpy person.)
"And who are you?" he demanded angrily.
"Maggie Johnson," I answered for what seemed like the millionth time, "Oh just read the letter." I handed him my permission form and crossed my arms in front of my chest irritably.
He read it quickly and threw the battered piece of paper back to me. "You have to go talk to the Headmaster or Deputy Headmistress. I have no authority over you," he growled in annoyance.
"Care to tell me where I could find one of these people?" I demanded in annoyance.
"The Deputy Headmistress should be on the first floor, in her office. Just ask a student," the man rolled his eyes.
"Aren't you a professor here?" I shot back, "Can't you tell me?"
"Professor as of only a few days ago," he snarled, "Now get out of my sight."
"Make me," I shot back, standing my ground and feeling my hands curl into fists.
"Why you little!" he stopped in his phrase, and his hand reached back to his robes as if to grab his wand.
"That is quite enough, Amycus!" a cold voice called out from a door to the side of me. Out from it came two people, one a rather ugly woman who looked on admirably to Amycus, the other none other than Severus Snape. He was the one who had spoken, and the woman quickly ran to Amycus' side.
"This insolent little..." but Snape cut off Amycus' defense.
"I don't want to hear it! Is she a student?" the man retorted. Amycus sighed and shook his head.
He walked up to Amycus and hissed, in a manner that I was not supposed to hear it (but I did,) "The Dark Lord has strict orders regarding the treatment of foreigners. If she is here, her blood is clean enough to demand respect, and we are not to hurt her for fear of foreign intervention."
Amycus scowled, and said nothing. Snape turned to me now, the sneer still upon his face but not quite meeting his eyes.
"And why are you here?" he demanded in a calm, cold voice.
"Just read the damn piece of paper!" I muttered under my breath, handing the wrinkled form to him. He perused it, his eyebrows raised up, he handed it back, and beckoned for me to follow him. Amycus and the frumpy woman retreated into the shadows, and I silently followed Snape.
I was led up all of the stairs, and still no word was spoken. We went past the first floor, where a stern looking woman clad in green robes stood watching Snape suspiciously. She eyed me with raised eyebrows as I followed him silently, and she took to following us as well. Snape made no word to her approach, but acted as if it were expected as we all reached the seventh, and last, floor. He led us down the corridor, where students watched his approach nervously and became suddenly hushed. We stopped in front of an old gargoyle statue, which didn't seem to have anything interesting attributed to it.
"Undesirable Number One," Snape murmured softly. The stern looking woman scowled deeply behind me, and all of a sudden the gargoyle leapt aside. Behind it was a stone staircase. All three of us entered, though I in confusion, and the staircase began to move upwards as though it were a muggle escalator. When it stopped moving, we were in front of an oak door with a griffin-shaped handle. Snape opened the door and we entered a large office. Strange objects lay on the tables and in the cabinets, along with many books, and portraits of men and women hung all over the walls. An old, worn and brown wizard's hat lay on a shelf behind the main desk, along with a sword in a glass case.
"Headmaster," the way the woman behind me said it made even my blood run cold; her tone was filled with malice and anger, "Why is this girl here?"
"Just what I'd like to know, Professor McGonagall," Snape nodded, sitting behind the desk and turning to me with a nod.
"You realize I'm sick of explaining myself?" I asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise my irritation as best I could.
"I could tell by your thrusting of your permission form into my hand," he sighed, "But I want a full explanation. All this paper says is that you've cleared the Customs' Screening process and that you're permitted to enter and stay at the school as long as you'd like."
"My name is Margaret Natalie Johnson," I began slowly, so that no mistake could be made about any facet of my explanation, "You knew my mom, sir. I am eighteen years old as of yesterday. My mother is an American Wizarding Diplomat who was assigned to the embassy here. As my birthday present, she offered for me to come with. Since I have graduated from Salem, and have this year off before I begin training for my job, I accepted. I wish to learn more about other countries and their magical practices. At the Custom's office, my mother was sent to a screening and back home because she is a muggle-born," behind me, the stern woman made a small noise of horror under her breath and Snape's face almost changed from it's unpleasant look, "But I was allowed to continue on to my first destination, Hogwarts. I plan to stay here for a while, depending on how I like it. I love magic and learning about magic, and I want to learn whatever I can here. Though if all you people continue being cold, distant, and terrified of me every time I turn a corner, I probably should just go on to explore the Scottish lochs," I muttered irritably.
"I must insist that you don't," the woman insisted behind me, "I'd insist that you go home, but..."
"I do not believe I invited you in, Minerva," Snape replied coolly, "Please wait outside, if you wish to speak to our guest."
"And how will I know that you won't cast the Imperius Curse on her, making her your drone while she is here?" 'Minerva' replied angrily.
"I think," I paused pettishly, "Now, this is just a thought here, but I think I can take care of myself, ma'am. I have graduated from Salem, and I got an O on my Defense against the Dark Arts ANEWT," I sighed in exasperation.
The woman paused, somewhat shocked, but not mad in the slightest. She thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"Just be on your guard," she warned, "I'll be back in a moment." Snape watched her go before speaking, his fingers drumming against his desk in what seemed to be agitation. Finally, the door closed behind Professor McGonagall, and Snape turned to me.
"You are Melinda's daughter? The older one?" he demanded. I nodded.
"Why did she agree to come here? Surely she knew the danger that there is for muggle-borns right now, she certainly understood when Albus told her..." Snape continued, his eyes narrowing.
"She's the only person who knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that you couldn't have possibly meant to kill Albus Dumbledore," I whispered softly. Snape's eyebrows raised.
"She still believes me, even though I killed him?" he asked in a tone of amazement that was very out of character for him.
"She believes that you and Dumbledore must have worked it all out beforehand, yes," I nodded, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"She's right," Snape paused, "But I've told no one this... I an acting as if I am truly on the side of the Dark Lord on Dumbledore's orders... Do you believe her?"
"My mom has to be extraordinarily shrewd because of her job," I paused, "She doesn't trust people easily. Hence, I trust her judgement deeply. So yes, I believe her," I nodded.
"Good," Snape was still frowning, "The reason she trusts me is something I do not talk about very much, of at all; I thank you for not forcing me to go into explanations as to why I switched sides in the first place, and would never dream of going back..."
"Why is that good?" I asked, looking puzzled, "Why do you need me to trust you?"
"I loathe," Snape scowled, "The looks of morbid respect I get from all on the Dark side, and the looks of pure hatred from all on Dumbledore's. Loathe, miss Johnson; though, if you ever tell anyone this... Certain things I do not divulge; weakness is one of them."
I nodded, "Um, but if you want to keep your cover..."
"I would deeply appreciate your not acting like my friend in front of anyone else," Snape paused, "As it is, I feel I must insist that you go home."
"Why?" I asked, my eyes narrowing in anger.
"You're half-blood, foreign, and from what your mother tells me, very reckless," Snape smirked, "I don't want you to get yourself killed. First, because I would take personal responsibility, second, because your mother would have my head."
"I am not going back," I spat, "I got through and I am here."
"It is much too dangerous..." Snape shook his head.
"You can't make me leave," I countered, "Surely I could help?"
Snape sneered, "I could make your life in this castle a living hell until you saw reason and left..."
"Do you really want to fight me, Snape? Surely my mom told you how stubborn I am..." I grinned maliciously.
"Melinda did go on about it," Snape rolled his eyes, "Could you do me a favor, then?"
"Sure," I paused, "Since my mom can't help, I'll do my part. The Dark Lord is crazy."
"True enough," Snape nodded, "Though, may I ask why you are eager to help? Was that your intention on coming here?"
"No," I frowned, "I wanted to tour Great Britain and see how Hogwarts was different than Salem."
"This isn't how Hogwarts is usually," Snape sighed, "But I had to put in Death Eater teachers or else it would look suspicious to the Dark Lord."
"Speaking of, what do those two losers teach?" I asked scathingly.
"The man, Amycus Carrow, teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. The woman, Alecto Carrow, teaches Muggle Studies. They are twins," Snape explained, "I beg you to not antagonize them too much."
"Right," I rolled my eyes, "Anyway, but now I just want to help because my mom can't anymore, and... I dunno. I see wizard pride and prejudice, as it were, to be the chief of idiocy... Plus, it would be the right thing to do I guess."
Snape nodded, "Well, you can certainly help. There is a gang of students on campus, calling themselves Dumbledore's Army. They are dedicated, in short, to fighting the Dark Lord in any way they can within the school. This mainly entails driving me crazy, though now, they are more liable to get into trouble with the Carrows."
"That would be bad, yes?" I asked.
"Very," Snape sighed, "All I ask is that you join their little gang, make suggestions, and try to get them in trouble with me rather than the Carrows."
"I can do that," I paused, "Describe them to me."
"The leader," Snape smirked rather maliciously, "Has taken up Harry Potter's mantle, as he is not here."
"Wait, Harry Potter isn't here?" I asked, shocked.
"Of course not you silly girl," Snape spat, but calmed himself down, "He is on the run from the Ministry. He also has a very important job to do to bring the Dark Lord down."
"Ok," I scowled, "So who took up his mantle?"
"Neville Longbottom," Snape smirked again, "Even I, who loathe them both, can admit he is rather below Potter's league in talent. At any rate, he's been getting, unfortunately, more sure of himself lately, and I fear he'll start overestimating himself and try to do more than he can handle."
"What does he look like?" I asked, rolling my eyes, though I had a funny feeling about who it was.
"Tall, round face and middle- though he's lost weight, I'll grant him that. Messy brown hair. Freckles. Terrible front teeth. Welsh accent. In gold and red robes, for Gryffindor, though how he got into the house when he was such a stuttering fearful first year..."
"And is he surrounded by an angry chick with red hair in red set robes and an airy sort of girl in blue and bronze robes?" I asked, cutting off his diatribe.
"Yes," Snape nodded, "Ginny Weasley, the former; Luna Lovegood, the latter. How did you know?"
"I met them on the grounds," I rolled my eyes, "Already had a bit of a spar with them."
"Do try and stay on their good side," Snape sighed, "Keep an eye on them for me."
"Can do," I nodded.
"And one last thing- stay out of trouble. If any harm comes your way your mother will have my head," Snape shivered, "She can and has been vicious towards me."
I grinned.
"Go, before Professor McGonagall has a conniption. Check in with me periodically!" Snape shooed me with his hand and I went back out.
Outside of the office door, waiting on the steps, stood Professor McGonagall. She didn't appear to have heard anything we said; she simply beckoned me forward.
"I'm checking to see if you've been put under..." but I cut her off before she could continue.
"The Imperius Curse? I can guarantee that I haven't been," I paused, "But if you must."
She performed a complicated series of incantations on me, all of which were uncomfortable feeling. Soon enough, she had finished, and was satisfied. She nodded at me, and we went down the stairs and back into the corridor.
"You must realize that this is a dangerous place to be in," she began, "Er..."
"Maggie Johnson," I sighed in exasperation, "Continue, please."
"This is a dangerous place and time for you, Miss Johnson. Surely you realized that when your mother was sent home?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Yeah, but I'm one of those really stubborn types," I grinned boldly. She rolled her eyes as we made our way down the moving staircases.
"Still, be on your guard at all times. What did the Headmaster," she spat the last word, "Have to say to you?"
I paused. Lie or tell the truth? I decided to go down the middle road.
"To watch myself, try to stay out of the way of teachers that won't like my presence (like the Carrows,) and check in with him," I shrugged, "Since he's responsible for me now."
"Check in with me, as well," Professor McGonagall nodded as we reached the first floor, and went down its corridor, "And do a favor for me."
"Shores," I shrugged, pronouncing sure in my strange fashion.
"Watch Mr. Longbottom and his friends," McGonagall sighed, "He's a boy, about a year younger than you, who has taken a group of students and formed a group dedicated to rebellion against Snape, the Carrows, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's legions at large. I'm afraid they'll get themselves killed before the year's end."
"Can do," I nodded. It seemed like, despite loathing each other, McGonagall and Snape were on the same page. Well, no matter how much this Neville Longbottom and his friends hate me now, they're going to be seeing a lot of me, I thought grimly.
"Good. This is my office," McGonagall pointed to a door on the first floor, "Check in with me often. Feel free to come to my class, too; and any other class you wish to. Here," and she led me into her office. She sat behind a desk that had a tin of cookies on it, and quickly wrote out a note. She handed it to me, and I read it quickly.
To whom it may concern,Maggie Johnson is permitted to sit in on any class she likes, and may go wherever she likes in the castle and on the grounds whenever she likes. Please refer any complaints to me or the Headmaster, and do not punish her without consulting us first. ~Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
I nodded and pocketed the note.
"Also, do you have a place to sleep?" she asked calmly. I shrugged, not having thought about it yet.
"Well, let me see here..." she sat back and thought for a moment, "Will the Gryffindor Common room do? I'll write another note and speak to my house to give you space; I believe a magical room could even be crudely constructed. I insist on it being my house, however; that way you can watch Longbottom and the majority of his followers, as well as contact me more easily."
"Sounds fine," I shrugged, "Just for future reference, what are the other houses?"
"Ravenclaw are in blue and bronze; Hufflepuff are in yellow and black; and Slytherin are in sliver and green. Try to avoid the last group; the other two should be fine. Gryffindors will be friendly enough soon enough," McGonagall smiled slightly, which didn't fit her stern face, "As will the other two groups after a while. But the Slytherins will not be fast friends; I hate to give in to prejudices but most of them are either indifferent or sympathize with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's new regime."
"I'll keep it in mind," I nodded. McGonagall watched me for a moment, before finally nodding fully. She finished composing a second note, which just seemed to be a second permission form, and stood up.
"Good luck, Miss Johnson," McGonagall acknowledged as she held the door open for my leaving, "And just ask any person in the red-gold robes where the common room is and what the password is. Just show them that second note if they ask questions."
"Gotcha," I nodded, and turned to leave.
This would be interesting...