Granger, We Need to Talk
Chapter 4
Rebuilding Hogwarts:
The shattered towers whisper of endless woe
JK Rowling owns the rights to Harry Potter.
Sadly, I make no money from this.
I say sadly, 'cause I could use a new truck
It was the day after Harry's Gringotts visit. During Molly's usual fantastic breakfast, Harry had given a heavily censored version of the trip to Ron and Ginny. He told them the tale of the blood testing and the ring fitting and admitted to having become Lord Potter. When questioned about how fabulously wealthy he was, he merely said to ask their mother as she had seen his vault the last several years. Harry merely did not mention that she had only seen his Education Trust Vault. Today, he just did not want to aggravate the youngest Weasley's near poverty feelings. Hermione helped by supporting Harry's tale and charming several of the Potter books to look alike, so no one thought anything about her having a few new books. She was Hermione after all.
Ginny asked if he had a fabulous manor house just like the Harry Potter in all the Boy-Who-Lived books that she had grown up with. Harry could, sort of, honestly say he didn't know. Maybe he would find out next week. Actually one of the documents from Gringotts listed a Potter House in the Cotswalds. Maybe next week Harry could go see it.
After breakfast Hermione insisted they gather at the table to go over the notes she had made from McGonagall's visit a couple of days ago. Of all people, Ron was the one who wanted to talk about the task he had been given. His occasional mutters about coercion and compulsion hexes were ignored. Hermione got him to write a note to Neville explaining the work the Headmistress had given him and sent it off with his owl Pigwidgeon. The others mostly thought they would have to really see just how bad the destruction was. They knew the pitch was wrecked but had mostly seen just the damaged castle.
Next Hermione started on a list of changes to existing classes the quartet wanted. Sacking the ghost, Professor Binns, from his History of Magic post was a unanimous decision. When they started to get overwhelmed by Hermione's rapid fire listing of all the topics she wanted new in the class, the other three ganged up on her to stop. Harry halted the tirade when he brought up the point that a competent teacher's lesson plan would probably include most of her way of thinking. When she glared at him for interrupting her ranting,(she had been on a roll), he stared back until she huffed "Fine", and went to her next subject.
Muggle Studies had long been a target of Hermione's ire. It had been taught by a PureBlood professor, Charity Burbage, who talked about muggles as though they were merely particularly inventive pets. Her ideas of muggle technology were from a century ago. She had still thought horseless carriages were a new invention. Hermione had never liked her, but being killed by Voldemort and then eaten by his snake, . . .Brrrr.
Harry and her were going to have to continue this conversation in the coming days.
"Harry," Hermione said. "What about the obverse? A Wizarding Culture studies class for Muggleborns and muggle raised Halfbloods? Don't you think your life at Hogwarts might have been easier if you had some understanding of why the PureBloods often acted the way they did? I mean, you could have maybe talked to that arse Roger Davies or Mandy Brocklehurst, she was cute. Or maybe even Susan Bones…" Harry's eyes unfocused as he remembered Susan who had developed early, and at least to the male population of Hogwarts, spectacularly. Ginny and Hermione saw Harry's distraction. They both smirked and remembered just how half then boys at school had drooled over Susan's um . . assets.
A shared look and shrug and Hermione suddenly gestured with her hand. Harry's head rocked forward as though someone had slapped the back of his head. Harry looked up and around in confusion. Someone had just whacked him in the back of his head, yet there was no one there.
He looked around wildly. Ron looked confused, Ginny looked surprised and Hermione looked smug. Harry dived to his left off the chair and before he hit the floor an Aguamenti charm was spraying the area behind his previous seat, trying to reveal who had been behind him. Nothing occurred. Nothing was revealed. Harry started to jump up to start hexing everything in sight when Hermione burst out laughing, quickly followed by Ginny demanding, "How did you do that?"
While Harry and Ron looked confused, Ginny was fuming and Hermione looked insufferably smug. "Do not worry padwan, I will show you how to do it," Hermione smirked, looking at Ginny.
Harry had by this time replayed his memory and looked at Hermione with wonder in his eyes. "You did that wordless AND wandless? She just smiled beatifically at him.
"Harry, clean up your mess. Now, where were we . . ."
She continued on, "Harry, do you think Teddy's grandmother might teach it? It should be only once or twice a week. And First and maybe Second years"
"Andromeda Tonks? He replied. "I don't know."
"Well, it is something to think about, why don't you talk to her about it next time you go to see Teddy?" Hermione said as she moved on.
Continue Divination? All four did not think the subject was worth taking. Ever.
"What about a Life Studies or a cross between Home Budgeting and Economics, Cooking and Business Management class?" came from Harry. "I mean some sort of class that could teach cleaning spells, cooking with magic, reading a Gringotts statement, keeping the accounts of a business."
Ron gagged. "Only if you keep the girly stuff for the girls, mate."
"I mean, um . . look Ron. After school, unless you want to live with your Mum, you're going to want a small flat, right? Well, how are you going to clean it and feed yourself? Without spending a whole lot of galleons eating pub grub or at a restaurant all the time?"
Now it was Harry on a roll. "And what about maths? Unless you start Arithmancy in third year, most Muggleborns, and a lot of Halfbloods, have no more math classes after being ten years old. I'm not sure I can do division problems anymore. At least we should keep kids learning math up to geometry." Ron and Ginny missed understanding half the rant, but Hermione was once again caught by her forgetting the fact that very few Muggleborns, never mind wizards, would learn anything non-magical on their own.
Magic was a great tool for making wizards lazy.
"But, Harry," said a puzzled Ginny, "Mum has kept teaching us maths during summer hols, and I know a bunch of cleaning and cooking spells she taught me.
Hermione's brain had finally re-booted. "Yes, Ginny. YOU know these spells, but I'll bet Ron doesn't know them, does he? Think about how his room looks and then think about him trying to cook for himself."
Ginny shuddered.
"PureBloods need not apply. They believe they will always have house elves."
"Oi!," said Ron "Elf-less PureBlood here!"
"The Crown rests its case."
"We will get McGonagall to look into that," Hermione said as she wrote on her list. In the part of her brain not on automatic, she was chastising herself for being surprised at Harry's argument. "You keep forgetting he is actually very intelligent, you nitwit. When he concentrates on a problem, he usually solves it. Quit acting like you're the only smart person here!"
Any other ideas on classes?" Hermione asked. Head shakes and shrugs greeted the question. "Alright, what about social stuff?"
Ron tentatively put up his hand. "What about a Chess club? Or Gobstones? Or an Exploding Snap club?"
Everyone nodded at those suggestions. After all the school only sponsored Quidditch and the Toad Choir. That meant a huge majority of the students had no social interaction outside of their house mates.
Hermione and Ginny looked at each other.
"Dances." As Harry and Ron looked at them with growing horror, the two girls promptly agreed on a minimum of two formal dances each year.
"Maybe we'll make one of them a Girl Invites Boy dance. Wouldn't that be interesting," Ginny mused.
The growing horror on Harry and Ron's faces burst into full-fledged terror.
Catching the look of their faces from the corners of their eyes, the two witches resolutely managed to keep from exploding into laughter.
"Why, yes," drawled Hermione, carefully not looking at Ginny's dancing eyes. "A formal wizard ball like we had in fourth year, with an end of school year muggle-style school girls ask boys dance."
"That sounds excellent," stated a slightly gasping Ginny as she fought her laughter, ignoring the choking noises coming from the two young men.
It was almost a minute before Hermione able to continue with a straight face.
"What about some muggle sports like football or rugby clubs?" Hermione followed with. "I mean some of those would be familiar to Muggleborns and could show wizards that muggles have exciting sports also."
Harry shook his head no.
"Brooms and training make women equal to men in Quidditch. Women would be crushed on a football pitch, and with only thirty-five or so men in a House, trying to find eleven or more players for a club team?" Harry just shook his head again.
"You know," said Ginny. "I was going to suggest a Dueling Club. But I think Harry is right. I've collected enough scars. However, maybe those who haven't been scared out of their minds from dodging AK's and Crucio's might find it useful for DADA or just fun. Too bad, it would be fun to watch Luna mop the deck of the Dueling Stage with Harry."
Three sets of eyes goggled at Ginny, who giggled.
"Give me decent odds in a structured formal duel, and I would put some sickles on her. She's fast, sneaky and inventive. Before she was kidnapped, she was the unofficial dueling champion of the DA in the Room of Requirement. You might win by sheer power, Harry, but you'd have to work hard."
Harry's eyes widened bit but he said nothing. Being her boyfriend in Sixth Year had taught him that Ginny was smart and very observant. AND, Luna had not only escaped serious injury at the Department of Mysteries battle, she had survived dueling with Bellatrix at the final battle.
Hermione finally paused in scribbling her notes. "I have some questions for the Headmistress about . . . ."
They talked another couple of hours, and finally stopped when a Hogwarts owl from Headmistress McGonagall and Neville's owl both arrived. McGonagall asked them to arrive at the castle at ten o'clock next morning, and Neville wanted to meet Ron at the destroyed Quidditch pitch at the same time.
Nobody mentioned out loud that the last three days had heard laughter in the Burrow for the first time in months.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
(This site trashed my original scene separation icons)
The three adolescents started ascending the hill to Hogwarts from the fireplace of The Three Broomsticks in the early morning sunshine. Their first view of the wrecked castle was depressing. Most of the towers were still probing the sky as jagged ruins. The tremendous front doors were still in shattered pieces. So little existed of the greenhouses that none of them could believe they would be ready for school in September. Their first impression had been depressing. The closer examination was worse. Gouges and burn marks were everywhere on the castle walls. Windows? There were no windows. Only bare openings.
A wooden construct of some sort drew their attention off to the right of the main entrance. First was a windmill down off the entrance. There seemed to be a short ramp leading down to a pile of rocks at near the windmill. As they watched, a group of goblins dumped a cart of rubble down the ramp to where at the end another group of goblins was gathered around doing something incomprehensible.
"Oh, Merlin," breathed Hermione, tears welling in her eyes, "they're still cleaning up the mess."
The goblins then took the same cart over to a platform at the end of the other ramp. Both Harry and Hermione recognized the second 'ramp' as a conveyer. The belt moved slowly, from the bottom near the windmill, to the platform near the entrance. Goblin muscles loaded several trimmed blocks of masonry onto the cart and the group started pulling and pushing the cart into the entrance.
Following the cart, the teens were surprised to be stopped by a group of goblin guards similar to those they had seen at Gringotts. The goblins had started to ask the teens to state their business when Headmistress McGonagall appeared just inside the entryway.
"Mr. Weasley. Why don't you go around to the greenhouse area and gather up Mr. Longbottom and the two of you can start planning on fixing our quidditch pitch"
With a nod to everybody, Ron headed off around to the side of the castle. The other three stood looking at each other and McGonagall.
"As you can see, not only wizards are working on our Hogwarts. We have hired Goblin guardians at the castle and Centaurs have been gifted appropriately to patrol the approaches and the Forbidden Forest."
She led them into a classroom on the second floor and had everyone seat themselves at the only table there.
Harry sagged. Fortunately the memories were bad, yet, not crushing here. In the Great Hall where the Last Battle had been fought . . .
He was brought out of his funk by McGonagall asking Hermione for their suggestions.
She spent several minutes reading the parchments before speaking.
"Excellent work as I expected from the three of you. Most of the class suggestions I believe I can get through the Board of Governors now that Albus, any Death Eaters, and their allies, are no longer on the Board. I also see no reason why we cannot have more student clubs."
"I agree with taking the Eighth Years out of their houses and putting them in a separate House. Also that they should have their own table here in the Great Hall . . Excellent. That should provide some mingling of those who will be graduating this year."
"I am interested in this Common Table where anybody can sit except at formal feasts. And a Veterans Table? Just how many tables do you intend to fracture us into?"
Harry and Hermione both looked at Ginny, who had suggested the Veterans Table.
"Headmistress, I believe that the veterans of The Battle here will be badgered enough by the younger kids to tell them tales of the War. Now, just like Harry, I am not going to talk about the battle with the Death Eaters or Bellatrix Lestrange with those who were not there. I am not going to talk with the ignorant about Colin Creevy or a wounded little girl I tried to help whose name I never did learn." Tears welled in Ginny's eyes. "I never learned her name and I don't even know if she lived or died," she ended with a sob.
Hermione leaned over and gathered Ginny in a one-armed hug. Ginny fought for control and beat her sobs down to sniffles. A transfigured handkerchief for her to blow her nose in, and Ginny started again. "Those of us who survived from Dumbledore's Army should have a place where we can have a quiet word with each other or just not be bothered by others. My tolerance of my fellow students who are arseholes" . . "Language Miss Weasley!" . . . is very low, and I learned some really nasty hexes and jinxes this last year."
"Oh, come now Miss Weasley, surely your fellow students would never bother you that way. I'm sure you are over reacting."
Ginny's glare may not have intimidated McGonagall, but it did make her wonder if her pronouncement was right.
"Headmistress, have you EVER had to put up with Zacharias Smith or Serafina Mulciber when they are feeling mean and untouchable? If they start being prats, Madame Pomfrey is going to have them in her ward for weeks. And as for some of the Death Eater children whose parents died, they'll be positively homicidal." Ginny looked thoughtful for a second. "Or suicidal. As soon as they touch a wand in a hallway, many from the DA will probably kill the willing torturers from last year. It would be wise to not let them attend this year."
Ginny had started her rant glaring at McGonagall. By the time she was finished, her usually warm brown eyes were as flat and deadly looking as a cobras.
McGonagall was momentarily speechless. She had wanted some student input, but listening to Ginny, and then seeing Harry and Hermione nodding their heads in agreement!
This was shocking.
Just as shocking, was that neither of the two students Ginny named had been Slytherins!
Had she been so fixated on repairing the school she had ignored what would be massive changes in the returning students?
Her three young Lions sat quietly, watching her politely, waiting for her to TRY to come to grips with what they considered The New Reality. They had paid for it in blood and the rest of wizarding Britain was going to start learning that soon.
Headmistress McGonagall eyes were just starting to re-focus again when Ginny spoke.
"You might want to consider that the Veteran's might need their own House. I would guess that a lot of us will last about a month in our old House what with missing friends and comrades and other ghosts from the last year. I'm not sure how many will be able to put up with hijinks of the young, untouched kids. Just because we've become old and twitchy, we should try not to take it out on the young'uns. We fought so they could have a chance act like kids"
Hermione added her voice to Ginny's. "And these changes are not permanent. The Eighth Years and the Seventh Year veterans will be graduated come spring. There were very few Fifth Years who fought. And fewer who lived. So there will be very few Sixth Year veterans attending this year or next."
McGonagall was silent for a minute.
"Very well," she stated. "Let's go and see what will be your new quarters for the school year."
With that they all arose and followed McGonagall to the Grand Staircase where none of the staircases were moving. Up to a third floor corridor that was suddenly very familiar to Harry and Hermione.
"Did we just pass Fluffy's room?" she whispered to Harry
"Yep."
Further down, the headmistress stopped and threw open the second door.
"This is to be the new Eighth Year House area," she proclaimed.
The place was a wreck.
Not from battle damage, just a wreck from disuse and abandonment. For some reason, the fighting had not reached here.
"Remember when I said I needed your help because you are skilled, powerful magic users? This is one of the reasons why. I need this place built, and where it cannot be built, I need it transfigured into a common room, library, bathrooms and sleeping quarters for the eighth year students. With all the furnishings couches, curtains and beds, students have come to expect in your House. I have had the goblins make a set of plans for you to follow for the rooms. I will have a goblin sent to teach you and guide you on how to do the work."
"I will also personally tutor you, and some others, in transfiguration so your transfigured items do not regress to their original state before the year is out.
Hermione out of sheer habit raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Headmistress, why us? I mean why not dwarves or goblins who are used to working with stone? And what about th . . ."
"Enough, Miss Granger. One, there is not enough money left in the budget to pay for an Eighth Year dormitory that will be used only one school year. Two, all the materials you need will be supplied and how to use the materials taught to you. And you three will not be alone. There are other Eighth Years who I plan on adding to your work crew."
Ginny could not help herself either. She raised her hand. "Miss Weasley?"
"Umm . . . I'm only a Seventh Year. Why am I here?"
"Which part of skilled, powerful, intelligent witch do you not understand, Miss Weasley?"
Ginny blushed redder then a ripe tomato. She couldn't meet anyone's eye. Harry and Hermione traded huge smirks. This was teasing fodder good for the whole year.
"Besides," McGonagall continued in a soft voice. "I have just decided that if your fears of problems with some of the returning veteran seventh years are correct, we will need a leader among them to make a new House complex."
The now brisk voiced Headmistress went on. "I need a week to get the plans done, instructors ready and materials ordered. I will see you eight days from today. Bringing old clothes would be an excellent idea. Any other questions?"
Harry started to speak and thought better of it. He would talk to McGonagall about his Lordship problems later.
oooooo vvvvvv ooooo
After the headmistress had left, the three teenagers stood around and briefly started talking about what spells they might need to do the work. Harry actually started talking about muggle tools that could be used to save a lot of magical energy. When asked by Ginny why use shovels or heelyburrows, "WheelBARROWS Ginny" when a levitation charm would work, he responded.
"We are going to be using a LOT of magical energy to fix all this. Transfiguration is about concentration, intent and power. Personally, I would hate to have my bed change back into a busted desk some night because our magical cores were too depleted to power the transfiguration properly."
Hermione's was stunned. It took a moment but she squealed and snatched Harry into one of her typical rib creaking hugs. "Y . . You . . You got it! Oh, Harry, I'm so proud."
"Uh, Hermione, I kinda got it in the tent last year. Remember trying to survive red-eyed, snaky, evil monster guy?"
Hermione was stricken. "Oh Harry. I'm so sorry. I . . ."
"Relax Hermione. You probably won't live here anyway."
Hermione jerked out of her hug to stare at Harry so hard he involuntarily moved back a few inches.
He smiled rather sadly. "Remember, the Head Girl and Head Boy have their own quarters up on fourth floor. And I mean, who else are they going to pick for Head Girl?"
Hermione was surprised at how fast her eyes welled up when she thought of not being near Harry and Ron this school year. She must have looked stunned because Ginny moved until she gathered Hermione in a hug of her own that was joined by Harry.
"Don't look so unhappy Hermione. We'll only be a floor away."
Harry looked around. "Hermione, break out some note paper. I will bet a galleon to two sickles that the planner for this living area gets it wrong. We're going to need more common and study room area than anyone else will plan for. Additionally . . ."
Some exploring along the rest of the corridor was done, but the detritus was the same in the other five doors. Opening the door that three-headed Fluffy had been behind showed the room still had the trap door in the floor. Harry went to open the trap door but it was locked. Hermione whipped out her wand and started casting over the door, stared at it for a moment and then swirled and poked her wand while muttering to herself. The door literally popped upright. When the other two looked at her with raised eyebrows, she smirked and said, "Remember trying to learn stuff so we could survive red-eyed, snaky, evil monster guy?"
Harry stuck out his tongue at her.
Looking down they could faintly see to the floor the Devils Snare had dropped them on. It had seemed a lot further years ago.
Visiting the room brought on a running reminiscence of the Philosophers Stone tale alternately told by the duo while they all walked out of the castle and over to the quidditch pitch. Ginny was doing her best not to gasp or squeal as she did not want them to stop talking about one of the great mysteries of Hogwarts. Everyone knew what had happened, yet no one knew what had happened.
The Golden Trio had never talked about their first great adventure. And how it became the glue that held them together through the stresses and strains of bossy swot brainiacs, angsty teenage jealousies and much sheer idiocy.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Seeing the Quidditch pitch from afar had not prepared them for the destruction of the pitch and spectator stands. The stands had been built from great baulks of timber over almost a millennia, and had burned long and hot, leaving great piles of ash and charcoaled wood. The great metal scoring hoops lay across piles of their burnt posts. The fire had been so hot some of the golden metal had warped and twisted. Anything taller than the uncut grass in the middle of the pitch was consumed by fire and was useless.
They found Ron near what had been the faculty and distinguished visitor stands looking at a hole in the ground. The hole was about ten feet across and five or so feet deep. The dirt from it had been piled off to the side. Harry could see a line along the sides of the hole about a foot deep where the dark fused looking soil gave way to normal looking dirt. Looking around the pitch he saw other piles of dirt near where the stands had been.
"Hello there Nev," said Harry quietly. "How have you been?"
The group had not seen Neville Longbottom since the funeral for Vergilia McClain, a Hufflepuff sixth year Neville had known who was killed in The Battle. It was still a minor surprise to see the tall, fit, confident man who had replaced the somewhat pudgy, painfully shy boy the trio had known for so many years. Ginny and Neville had written a few short letters to each other this summer, but that had been all the contact they had.
"About the same as you guys I imagine. I've been helping Professor Sprout with the plants from the wrecked greenhouses. We've been trying to keep as many plants alive as we can for class use next term."
"So, you gonna be able to help Ron with his little project?"
Ron snorted. "I've been jobbed by McGonagall, mate. This is going to be bloody . .
" Language.!" . . . well impossible."
He pointed at a nearby pile of wood ash. "Neville says he doesn't think we can find wood of the proper size in Britain to replace the stands. Any forest that has the type of wood we need is an ancient forest that is protected against us cutting trees down. Most of the wood in the stands were huge baulks of oak. There's none that size available in the country."
"I also have no idea where to get poles tall enough to put the hoops on. No idea how to replace the bent hoops, or how to put them on top of the poles."
"AND Neville tells me the soil is so badly damaged from the fire it can't grow grass." Pointing at the side of the hole, his face a mask of defeat, Ron continued. "See where it's discolored? I have to get rid of that top burned shite, bring in new dirt and plant grass before summer ends."
His shoulders somehow slumped even further. "I'm so buggered."
All five young adults gazed out over the destruction. Not one of them had any idea how to help Ron.
Hermione broke the silence. "I vote we go down to The Three Broomsticks, have some lunch, a few butterbeers and since not one of us has," she took a deep breath, "a sodding clue what to do next, let's figure who we know that might have that sodding clue."
The other four were so shocked by her language they looked at each other wide eyed, shrugged, turned and followed her towards Hogsmeade.
Harry wasn't sure if Ron realized that Hermione Jean Granger had just committed her formidable mind to making damn sure Ronald Bilius Weasley succeeded in fixing the Hogwarts Quidditch Stadium. And woe and suffering would be visited upon those who tried to prevent that success.
Including Ron.
A/N
Every story I have read about the school year after The Battle either merely
has the students on rubble removal, or the whole problem is magically
glossed over. My AU does not work that way. Sorry if it bores you.
For McGonagall, the New Reality shocks will keep on arriving.
Will be traveling hard next week. The next update may be a few days late.