A/N: A bit of a short one today. I'll make it up with the next one.
Thanks everyone for your continued support and advice. I'll try to integrate your suggestions in the flow of this story. I'm really happy to see that my little story seems to be generally well received. Be certain that I take all advice into account, even if you can't always modify what's already written (and I do have a bit of a backlog).
My mistreatment of Ronald two chapters ago seems to have had a bit of repercussions; I must say that I actually tried to make him at least partially relatable, admitting his jealousy, bringing up ambiguous but somewhat valid points... It's a bit hard to do because the view he holds at this point in the story is already universally hated, but I want you to know I tried. He won't have the most important presence in the rest of the story, but I'll try to keep him balanced when he does appear. Also, I'm kind of dreading the prank now. I hope I don't disappoint all these high expectations. Well I've got a bit of time to make it better anyway.
Enjoy! Or don't. If you don't, tell me why! If you do too!
And as always, it isn't mine I'm just borrowing it.
"Excuse-me?" Harry wondered for a second if Hermione had consciously picked up Prof. McGonagall's intonations.
"I need your help with a prank." He repeated. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she walked beside him. She finally settled on an appropriate response.
"Have you met me?"
"Yes, I know. But it's a special prank and it's special help." Hermione looked at him, her eyes full of disbelief, wondering what would lead Harry to think she'd participate in such a thing.
"Okay, I'll bite. What's so special about it?"
"It..." He made a show of looking around them and whispered to her even though they were alone in the corridor.
"It's a special order. By a teacher."
"...I don't believe you." She wouldn't be roped into his games, so she didn't bother to whisper. He got closer anyway and spoke even lower.
"Prof. McGonagall told me to do it." He whispered again. She pushed him away and wagged an accusatory finger in his face.
"That is the stupidest and most blatant lie I have ever heard! And I've met Malfoy." He pushed her index finger with his in a caricature of a fencing motion, billowing his cape behind him as he pretended to disarm her before poking her lightly in the ribs. She flinched. He gave a traditional fencing salute as she smacked him behind the head.
"When she agreed to let me skip the Ball, she said I had to show that it was in protest. It was one of the things I agreed not to tell anyone"
"That... is flimsy at best, and not at all probable as justifications go. And why are you telling me this now if it's a secret, in that fantasy land of yours?"
"She told me to bring you in, if I needed to keep the prank from spiralling out of control under the Twins' slightly psychotic supervision. I must admit that I had no illusions that I would need you eventually."
"That..."
Hermione was at a loss. That... That did seem like a logical... No... No, that was just her pride speaking. That manipulative prat! Trying to appeal to her love for control and rules to coax her into breaking them! Unforgivable. Devious. A bit impressive.
"Nice try!" She suddenly noticed where they seemed to be walking towards "Where are we going?" He didn't answer, but she blanched when they stopped in front of a certain teacher's office. He knocked.
"Professor McGonagall? I've brought Miss Granger, as per your request." he was trying and failing to repress a teasing singsong voice as he looked straight at her expression. Or rather at her expressions: her face shifted to a new emotion every second: anger, humour, curiosity, fear, hope, despair...
"Enter."
He opened the door and gestured her in. She had finally decided to settle into a petrified, wide-eyed stare. Eventually, he had to actually push her in, and didn't follow after her. She felt like her world was about to crumble. This had to be some sort of joke. Or rather it had not to be...
Harry waited patiently for her to exit the office. She was livid when she did, so he took her arm and they walked back slowly. After a few minutes of silence she spoke.
"I still don't believe it."
"I know, right?"
There was a pause after that. Harry tried to guess how such a conversation could have gone.
"Did you ask her to turn into a cat to prove her identity?" Hermione almost slapped herself in the face.
"Oh god! I did... And she complied, too... So it isn't Polyjuice, but she could still be Imperiused..."
"Hermione. That would be way too big for a prank."
"I know... And what she said... Sort of made sense."
"She's just a genuinely good person, and she's trying to help me turn the tides of public opinion..."
"Yeah..."
"And she has all those requirements for it to be safe and not too long or disruptive..."
"Yeah..."
"So will you help me keep the Twins in line? And maybe make the prank harder, faster, stronger and safer?"
"...Well I have to, now..."
He stopped and gave her a warm hug. She was still a bit dazed but he felt her get better in his arms. He actually felt a bit guilty to have shaken up her perception of authority so violently... He knew that order was important to her; she trusted them to be there, and to be absolute. As much as she broke her own rules on his behalf it was probably the first time that she witnessed rules breaking themselves... He couldn't let her feel that disoriented.
"You know I would be completely lost without you, right?"
He felt her cheek tense a bit against his as she smiled, and her hands come to rest against his back "I know."
"Mr. Potter, a word."
The rest of the class was exiting in a more or less orderly fashion, and Hermione gave him a complicated look over her shoulder as he approached Prof. McGonagall's desk. They waited for the door to close after the last student.
"Do you have a date?"
"Yes."
"Do you have anything to play music?"
"No."
"Come with me."
He followed her to her office in silence, wondering idly what wizards listened to music on. 'What wizard used to listen to music', he corrected himself. He was surprised, as they entered, to find what appeared to be a simple gramophone sitting on her desk. She gestured for him to sit, and did the same opposite of him. He couldn't look away from the ancient jumble of brass and wood. He had always loved gramophones. His teacher broke the silence.
"You're aware, I suspect, that I taught your mother a few years ago."
He looked back at her inquisitively and a bit taken aback. He hadn't expected his mother to be part of this conversation.
"In her seventh year, we had a conversation about music and how it can be recorded and played. Wizards directly transfigure sound in solid or magical form and duplicate it to play it, you see. I knew muggles had different contraptions, but I couldn't understand how one could trap something as... ethereal as music without the use of magic. She tried to explain, but I'm afraid I didn't understand... When she graduated, she left me this as a present. With a letter."
She opened a drawer from the wooden base of the gramophone, where one could fit a few records in their colourful jackets. There was indeed a pile of records: the upper one was a blue Charlie Parker with a drawing of a yellow bird playing the saxophone.
On top of it was a yellowed parchment covered with neat, loopy handwriting in blue ink.
He gulped in apprehension.
She handed him the letter.
He took it and scrutinised her expression. She raised her eyebrow to indicate that he should read it instead.
He felt his eyes resist a bit, then settle on the parchment. He read it.
Dear Prof. McGonagall,
This last year was as amazing as the six that came before, in large part thanks to you. I'm fairly certain that your office is already teeming with gifts from former students, but I fow Ines dnreug...
He raised his blurry eyes at her, careful not to let them drip: "Do you have a tissue? Thank you." Really, now. Not even two sentences in... Not very manly.
I'm fairly certain that your office is already teeming with gifts from former students, but I saw this during my easter holidays, and after our discussion about recording music I just had to give it to you.
This magnificent piece of muggle technology is called a 'gramophone'. Isn't it beautiful? It's a very old mechanism, practically an antique now. Of course we have better, newer ways to reproduce music but I just love these old things and their wobbly sound.
I'll tell you how to operate it, and leave you to try and guess how it works. The music is stored on the black discs. To play it, you should take one out of its protective square of paper, and put it on the rotating table; it'll start to turn as you bring the needle carefully to rest on its surface. You can change the rotational speed with the dial on the side. I charmed the discs to make them scratch-proof and the needle to better adapt its weight to the disc, all in the interest of better conservation. But apart from that it's all muggle ingenuity.
I hope your had as much fun as I did during the past seven years, and I hope the rest of your career in Hogwarts will be as filled with marvel as this last year was for me.
Best Regards,
Lily Evans
PS: I apologise for my boyfriend's rowdy behaviour.
Harry kept his eyes on the letter for a long time after he was finished reading it. He didn't know what to say to his teacher, so he stalled by studying in minute detail his mother's handwriting, and committing to memory as many sentences as he could. "I just love these old things and their wobbly sound" and "I apologise for my boyfriend's rowdy behaviour" were immediately rehearsed, stored, and filed for further reference, never to be forgotten. Neither should the calligraphy of her name. He tried to mentally reproduce it, studying the gesture behind it. Really, how many loops can you fit in "Lily Evans"? He counted. Twelve...
He was a bit surprised to find that she still called muggles 'we' even in her seventh year. He thought he should remember to do that too.
He eventually had to hand it back to her.
"I have no doubt that you can guess how precious this object is to me."
He nodded.
"But I can only imagine how important any object related to your parentage would be to you. I'll lend it to you for your non-ball. And occasionally afterwards, if you want."
He nodded again and cleared his throat of the few knots who had settled in it, before finally feeling up to the task of saying a raspy "Thank you."
"The selection of discs is also hers" She extracted the small pile of records and laid the six of them in front of Harry. "Do you recognise any of the artists?"
"Some." Charlie Parker, Django Reinhardt, Prokofiev, Chopin, Pink Floyd, and the Turtles. That was also worth knowing by heart. He rehearsed it mentally a few times until it was imprinted in his memory.
"I'll... I'll leave you here to listen to them."
There was a pause. She got up and walked to the door. Before exiting her office, she turned back to him.
"Do you know how the sound is stored and produced? I never could figure it out."
"A bit. I'm sure Hermione could explain it better, though... Professor?" He turned to her and got up from his chair. He had to clear his throat again as she waited for him to speak.
"Do you have some of her... some of their old essays?"
She thought about it for a second.
"I'll look for them in my archives and ask other professors if they're willing to do the same."
She opened the door, but he stopped her with another "Professor." She turned to him again.
"Thank you."
She hesitated a bit, nodded and left him alone in her office. The entire corridor felt out of place. Or maybe it was her.
Well. Off to the kitchens for a cup of tea before dinner.
In there, she found Hermione talking with house elves, handing out pamphlets. She made sure her appearance was as stern as usual. A house elf gave her a cup before she could even ask for it, proving Miss Granger's efforts to be rather fruitless at the moment.
"Miss Granger." She turned to face her student who seemed surprised to find a professor here. "Would you have time to explain to me how gramophones work?"
Hermione complied, a bit confused. It's simple after all: the groove goes up and down mimicking the waveform, the needle's motion thusly guided on the disk brings analogous vibrations to a membrane, the vibration is amplified in the brass cone producing sound. Later, Hermione wondered why she couldn't find Harry at dinner.