Filius Flitwick looks back

"Oh, I wasn't the leader, merely the … logistics coordinator." Professor Filius Flitwick, long-term Charms Professor at Hogwarts, is as modest as always. But when you see the list of 'logistics' he arranged, you'll be as impressed as I was.

"At some point – the kidnapping of Luna Lovegood really brought that home – the students needed a … well, a 'safe house'. They already knew about the Room of Requirement – any Hogwarts student worth his salt finds out about that, sooner or later. I just suggested long-term stay to some of them. And put up quite a few protective Shield Charms around it. Also, I made sure they found out about the connection to Aberforth's place. That's something most students don't know.

"So, as the students used the Room of Requirement, I enlisted Aberforth as a helper. He provided them with food – Gamp's Law, you know. We – the teachers, I mean – all chipped in to pay for it, since towards the end there were quite a lot of students in that room. Aberforth has been marvelous, but he's not a rich man.

"Did the idea to involve Albus Dumbledore's brother come from Harry Potter himself?" I ask Professor Flitwick.

"Certainly not, I don't think they even knew each other before the battle. I mean, obviously Harry knew the publican of the Hog's Head – but he didn't realise who that really was."

It seems most unlikely that the Chosen One wouldn't know such an important feature as the Room of Requirement. After all, at Hogwarts he fought with a Basilisk, chased the notorious Sirius Black, participated in the Triwizard Tournament, and is rumoured to have played a vital part in the extraordinary circumstances surrounding the resignation of Dolores Umbridge. If Potter didn't know about Aberforth and the connection to the Room, who would? But it would be impolite to contradict such an eminent war veteran as Filius Flitwick, who shows us once again that one should judge a wizard by his deeds, not by an – unproven – stain in his bloodline!

///////

Filius – Good God, yes. We were both stunned, Severus and I. Speechless. Well, in my case, that takes some doing. I mean, here we were, as secretive as they make them, never meet on the same days of the week or at the same time. Only ever speak in the Headmaster's Office, which is one of the best- protected places in all of Hogwarts – and who found out about our collaboration but Filius?

I went to Severus at the appointed time, we were just pouring ourselves a glass of mead, and Filius, calm as anything, appears in our midst and asks for a sherry. Had used a Disillusionment Charm – the most perfect one I've seen since Albus … well … And, as Filius said himself, he's easy to overlook in the first place. That's Filius, you know, wicked sense of humour. At his own cost, too.

He had realised what we were doing, and he came with the Aberforth connection. Said that hidden access to the castle and Aberforth's help would both be invaluable. Well, he was right, of course. Aberforth's food kept those dear boys and girls alive. And it was a safe means of evacuation. And quite a lot of our side joined the fight through that very door.

Now, there's actually an interesting fact Miss Skeeter didn't find out. You know, I always thought that that corridor must have been like the Black Hole of Calcutta during the fight – hundreds of students being evacuated, all of the Order and many others coming in – such a narrow space, teeming with people.

I once said as much to Minerva – and she told me that that exit was created by a Hogwarts student – and in such a way that it was exactly as wide as it needed to be for any given group. "Built-in Transfiguration to allow for size?" I said. "That's powerful spellwork, very powerful. Must have been some student, then. Impressive." And you know what she said? "Thank you." Just that. And I could have sworn that she winked.

Good heavens, Miss Skeeter even managed an interview with Harry Potter himself. That's quite a feat.

/////
POTTER SPEAKS!

"I've heard from various reliable sources that you've been in close contact with Hogwarts during the final year of You-Know-Who. Who has been most helpful, would you say?" I ask Harry Potter, during a heart-to-heart in Diagon Alley.

"There was no contact, no contact at all!" A fierce denial, so convincing that it does credit to his recently-started Auror traineeship. But his bright, green eyes tell a different story altogether. I suggest that Professor McGonagall – it's widely known how upset she was when The Chosen One was believed dead – must have been his main support.

"That's Headmistress McGonagall to you," Harry snaps, "and no, she wasn't. There was no contact until the day of the Battle."

I ask Harry about another well-known event – the duel between Snape and McGonagall. How does Headmistress McGonagall feel about that now – does it keep her awake at night – can she live with the regret of having so utterly misjudged a colleague and a former student?

"None of your business!" Harry growls. Any doubt readers might have about the bond between Harry and his former Head of House would be gone if they could have seen his fierce look – you'd almost think he'd like to use a Crucio. Not that I would stretch my readers' credulity by asking them to believe that Harry Potter ever would do that. It's a well-known fact that he didn't even use an Unforgivable on the Dark Lord, so no-one can believe he would use one to defend Minerva McGonagall – however close they clearly are.

//////

Well, I can tell you how Minerva felt about that duel: she was quite comfortable with it. It's what they had agreed before – towards the last weeks of that crazy year Minerva had realised that Severus was on the side of the angels, after all. Of course she had. The simple fact that no members of the Order, or of the Staff, for that matter, had died at his hands, said quite enough.

Severus just needed a way out of Hogwarts that would keep his cover intact. Minerva provided it – in a rather flamboyant manner. That was the last time I saw my boy.

We didn't speak then – he'd come to see me, just before Harry arrived. To say goodbye. Said that he expected things to come to a head, that very day. That he'd leave the castle – and that Minerva would get him out. Said that he had things to do.

I … I wanted to say … quite a lot. No time for it, of course. Useless, too. What could I say? "Be careful"? But risk control is not exactly part of a plan that involves fighting You-Know-Who. "Come back safely"? His face told me he would not, even if the words remained unspoken.

In the end I just said, for the last time, "My boy."

Yes, I think he understood what I meant by that. He was subtlety personified, you know. He knew why I called each and every one of them "dear boy" and him alone "my boy".

Then I clamped his shoulder, and he gave a sort of almost-hug with one arm. Silent togetherness.

Then he left.

Curse the Daily Prophet and their ideas on Yuletide Cheer.

I need something stronger than mead now.

A/N Yes, there will be a new story next week. A Minerva one. With the brilliant Professor Grubbly-Plank, and if you don't know her yet, give her a try. Support parts for Luna, Neville, the gargoyle and -- for the lovers of almost name-only characters – Eddie Carmichael.