Chapter 12: Legislation and Trials
I hadn't expected it, even though they said it could happen at any time. I sat in the chair in the center of the room looking at all of the witches and wizards gathered above me in rows. I had imagined the meeting taking place in a small office with maybe two or three Ministry officials in attendance, but this was more like being the lead in a play who had suddenly forgotten all of his lines. I kept thinking of the advice that Harry and Hermione had given me, things like "tell the truth" and "don't let them get you mad." Neville had reminded me to bring my wand; it was tucked inside my jacket. I had hoped that Kingsley would be in attendance, but I didn't see him among the rows and rows of unsmiling faces.
It was a great relief when I saw the imposing frame of the Minister of Magic make his way down the aisle and take his seat in the front of the assembly. He held up his hand and the room became deathly silent. I was sure that even the witch at the last row in the corner at the top could hear my heart beating.
"Professor, would you state your full name?"
"Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd."
"Do you swear to tell nothing but the truth?"
"I do."
"Very well." Kingsley looked over at a very thin witch with a severe haircut. "You may proceed, Mrs. Ingle."
A thin witch stood up and looked over at me with a smile that I knew was not genuine. "Mr. Boyd, you are currently engaged as the Muggle Studies instructor at Hogwarts, is that correct?"
"Yes ma'am."
"You are obviously aware that Hogwarts is an institution for educating young witches and wizards. Prior to your acceptance of the position at Hogwarts, were you aware that the Wizarding world existed?"
"No ma'am."
"You are currently thirty-six years old, is that correct?"
"Yes ma'am."
"For over three decades, and almost four, you have lived in the Muggle world. Yes?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Did you receive a letter from any magical educational institution upon your eleventh birthday, informing you of a position in their school?"
"No ma'am."
She turned towards the crowd. "Let it be established then that Mr. Boyd is, by our definition, a Muggle." She then turned back to me, again with a very condescending smile. "Mr. Boyd, how would you characterize your discovery of the Wizarding world?"
"It was amazing. I felt like my eyes had been opened to a completely new world." And I don't trust you or your fake kindness.
She laughed, and it came out as forced and practiced. "And did it take a long time before you had become accustomed to living in the Wizarding world?"
I had to think about that one for a bit, and so I paused. The room silently waited for my response, and I began to sweat even more. "I wouldn't say a long time, no. I had help from my fellow instructors and other friends."
"Ah yes, your friends. Would you count Harry and Ginny Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ron and Hermione Weasley in the group of friends?"
"Yes, yes I would."
"And what about two young witches? Medea Joyce and Melody Bramble?"
"I would characterize Medea as an acquaintance. Melody…"
She didn't let me finish. "Is your girlfriend. You two are dating, is that correct?"
"Yes ma'am, that's correct."
"Is it also correct that on two separate occasions you have been attacked by a group now known as the Wizard Liberation Front? One attack, I believe, put you in St. Mungo's for several days. Am I right?"
"Yes. The WLF has attacked me twice, and I had to stay in the hospital once to recover."
She stood for a moment silently, and then the awful smile returned. "It is obvious that the WLF is targeting Mr. Boyd as he is a Muggle. On both occasions wizards, and Aurors, had to come to his aid. A defenseless Muggle raises serious security risks. And this is just one Muggle! If Muggles are allowed to freely move between their world and our world, think of how everyday events would change. The Auror force would have to be increased several times over and at great expense to the Ministry. Taxes would have to be raised on almost all purchases to defray the cost."
I knew this type of person; I'd seen them in action at school board meetings, political events, all over television. She was the smiling face of racism, cloaked in large words and polite language. Even though I'd been warned against it, I could feel myself getting angry.
"How many like Mr. Boyd are walking the streets of the Wizarding World as we speak here today? Those who lack the basic magical skills to protect themselves? We have no idea. The legislation ascertaining the magical abilities and levels of all will help ensure that we can keep the peace and security that so many fought and died for in the war against You Know Who. We must ensure that our borders are secure. An influx of Muggles, not to mention those already amongst us with minimal magical abilities, will only provoke attacks from groups such as the WLF, as with their lack of skills they are simply targets. It is unfortunate that some witches and wizards feel the need to associate with Muggles, as they are only opening themselves up to danger. I feel the choice is clear; we must enact the statues to determine magical ability levels to ensure the safety of everyone, and the planned communities for those of lesser abilities will enable the Ministry to control the situation accordingly. As for poor Mr. Boyd, the exposure to the Wizarding world, despite his comments, must be overwhelming; to protect him we must ensure that the obliviation procedure is completed upon the fulfillment of his contract at Hogwarts. His example will provide proof to those who doubt that Muggles with awareness of the Wizarding World should be obliviated, for the greater good of all witches and wizards."
She sat down looking very pleased with herself. I had noticed several heads nodding in agreement during her little velvet rant. I hadn't barged in over her borders, I'd been invited. I tried to breathe deeply to calm myself. This hadn't gone well at all, and now I had to go back to Hogwarts and teach students who would be afraid to be in the same room as me because the WLF might come storming through the windows.
"Thank you, Mrs. Ingle." I looked back up to Kingsley; I couldn't read anything from his face. "I believe someone else wishes to question Professor Boyd."
A tall man with thinning blonde, almost white hair stood up. "Professor Boyd, I believe that Mrs. Ingle has established that, for our definition of the term, you are a Muggle. Is it true that you purchased a wand from Ollivander's?"
"Yes sir."
"May we see your wand?"
I took out my wand and held it in my hand. A slight murmur went through the assembly.
"What is the composition of your wand?"
"Black ironwood with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches long."
"Can you wave your wand for us, please?"
I looked at Mrs. Ingle and remembered how she had made me feel. She'd pretty much insulted me. She'd said that Melody shouldn't be seeing me because I'm a Muggle. She'd said I was useless. She was a complete bitch. I took my wand and waved it through the air, probably a little more forcefully than I had intended. A shower of red sparks came out of the end of my wand, this time as if the sparkler had just been pulled from the package on a bone-dry Fourth of July.
Kingsley eventually had to pull out his wand and point it at his throat. His command of "Silence!" echoed through the chamber. When the tumult had died down, my questioner continued.
"I'd like to reiterate for the audience the previously established facts. Professor Boyd has lived his entire life in the Muggle world. He did not receive a letter to attend a magical educational institution when he turned eleven. In the eyes of the assembly he is a Muggle, a person with no magical abilities whatsoever. But we have seen evidence that by using a wand he is able to produce some magical effects. The magic may be no more, or even less, than the people we call Squibs." He turned back to me. "Professor Boyd, can you tell us the means of transport you have used since you have been in the Wizarding world?"
Crap. Was I going to have to out Arthur's Anglia in court?
Before I could answer, he clarified his question. "Specifically, have you ever travelled via the Floo Network?"
"Yes, I have."
Additional murmurs went through the crowd. I looked over to Mrs. Ingle, and she didn't look pleased.
"As part of your daily lessons at Hogwarts, you award or remove student points, correct?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Are those points added to or subtracted from the House totals?"
"Yes, they are."
"Is it true that in the presence of two Aurors that you used your wand to set fire to a plant?"
"I didn't mean to…um, yes. Yes I did."
"And with assistance from a witch of your acquaintance you've traced your family tree back to Angus MacDonald, the man known as 'Dent Head,' is that correct?"
"Yes it is."
The blond man was silent for a moment. "Professor Boyd has proven that he has magical lineage, as well as some magical abilities. His purchase of a wand, which chooses the wizard as it is said, and the aforementioned use of the Floo Network for transport could not be possible if he was purely a Muggle. House points are subtracted or added to the totals without any physical changes or special arrangements. He is a man who would have never known about his heritage or talents if he had not been exposed to the Wizarding world, yet we would have classified him as a Muggle and immediately cut ourselves off. I think we all know the dangers of attempting to segregate according to ability or blood purity. I believe we have learned more about ourselves after surviving the war…I believe that if we do not learn the lessons of the war we will be doomed to repeat them." He scanned the crowd. "I believe my experiences allow me to consider myself something of an authority on that topic. There will always be groups such as the WLF who choose to hate. Today they hate Muggles, tomorrow it might be Squibs. Who knows where it will end? But if we give in to hate, if we give into fear, then we have given up. If the legislation passes to classify magical abilities, and obliviate Muggles who have knowledge of the Wizarding World, who will draw the line? Who will say where Acceptable Magic Levels begin and Non-Acceptable Magic Levels end? Will Muggle parents who have a witch or wizard for a child never be allowed to see their child again? Colleagues, witches and wizards, what path will we head down? I say the legislation must never be implemented. For all of our sakes."
I had no idea who that man was, but I liked him. If I ever needed a lawyer, I knew who I was going to call.
The room was oddly quiet when Kingsley stood up. "We will now recess and debate. Professor Boyd, thank you for your cooperation today. You are dismissed."
The assembled witches and wizards began to file out of the chamber, and I was met by Percy Weasley. "Very well done, Hank. Did you really set a plant on fire?"
"Yeah, it was a Christmas present from Neville. I still feel bad about it."
"Don't worry; I'm sure he understands. If you'll follow me there are some people waiting to see you."
I followed Percy down a corridor where I was met with the smiling faces of Mr. and Mrs. Ron Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley and…there she was, standing by Ginny; my girlfriend. After many congratulatory handshakes and hugs, I was finally with Melody. Before I could say anything she threw her arms around me and gave me a kiss. That's what I'd been missing. She smelled wonderful, and I saw the charm bracelet on her wrist.
After coming off of her tiptoes Melody looked over to Hermione, "So what happens now?"
"Well, they'll debate. Hank's part is over. We probably won't hear anything for a day or two." She looked over at Harry and Ron who simply shrugged.
"That's your department, Hermione." Ron looked at his wife with an expression of shock. "We just catch the bad guys."
When Ron mentioned bad guys I thought of Mrs. Ingle, then immediately to the wizard that had spoke in my defense.
"Hey, who was the guy who spoke for me, the really blonde wizard?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Nice act, that was."
Ginny elbowed Ron, causing him to exhale loudly. "He's changed, Ron. You know that."
"Yeah, but he's still a Slytherin."
I looked around the faces, trying to figure things out. Hermione gave me the answer, as always. "Hank, that's Draco Malfoy. You remember reading about him, don't you?"
"No way." Whoa. This was Harry's antagonist all throughout Hogwarts, the person who was supposed to kill Dumbledore, the son of a Death Eater? A former Death Eater himself, who had been on Voldemort's side for a while? I know people really can change, but it didn't look like Ron believed it, even now.
Eventually the crowd had whittled down to only Melody and me. We sat on a bench outside the big room where I'd given my testimony, trying to catch up on lost time, not noticing that Harry had joined us until he tapped me on the shoulder.
"We're lifting the restrictions for you two, contingency basis only. If we think you're in danger, we'll put them back on. It would still be a good idea to let Ron or I know if you're going out. Hank, when word gets out that you can use a wand, you might have people try and see if you can really use it. I don't know if you have enough magical abilities, but it would be a good idea to try and learn some very basic defensive spells."
I was going to actually learn magic? Professor Muggle, student. I'm sure my classes would enjoy that. "Thanks, Harry. I appreciate all the help. If we go anyplace, we'll let y'all know."
Melody looked over at me. "Well, right now I can tell you one place we're going. Come on, Hank. We're going to my house."
Harry grinned at us, completely oblivious to his very pregnant wife standing behind him in the doorway. She walked (ok, at this point she was sort of waddling, but I wasn't going to tell her that) over and grabbed his ear.
"We are leaving now, Harry. My feet hurt, my back hurts and I need curry. You can bother them later, Mr. Auror."
Sunday morning is one of the best things in the world. For me it usually meant sleeping very late, coffee or tea and an entire day to read the paper, books or whatever else. I'd fix something to eat whenever I was hungry, regardless of the time, but generally Sunday meant just time to wind down. Now I was winding down with Melody, what more could I ask for? All in all I was a pretty happy man. I wasn't confined to Hogwarts anymore, Melody was back at her house, I'd proven I could use magic, classes were going great. Most of all, I had managed to convince Neville that I wasn't really needed at Hogwarts on that particular weekend. I had a feeling he wouldn't mind, and luckily I was right. The only problem was that I didn't sleep in; I was up at the crack of dawn. Trust me; waking up at six on a Sunday morning unnecessarily is not something that goes over well in my book.
I'd tried lighting the stove with my wand but nothing worked so I settled for orange juice. Hell, I'd woken up before the paper arrived, never a good sign. Luckily this time I was prepared, though, so no more of that damned Witch Weekly. I mean, come on, the best smile award? Are this year's robes too daring? Blech. I grabbed my orange juice and pulled out a beaten up copy of a Faulkner novel and settled into the chair by the barely smoldering fire. I tried to light that too, but of course nothing happened. I guessed saying "Flame On!" and waving my wand at the newly added logs wasn't going to work, so I had resigned myself to a quiet morning with Churchill, reading about the American south with only the open curtains for light.
I was about twenty pages in or so when I heard a knock at the door. Who the hell would be knocking on Melody's door this early? My first thought went to the WLF, but they wouldn't just knock on the damn door. Good morning, terribly sorry to intrude, but may we come in and kill you? It had to be Ginny or some other friend of Melody's. Maybe it was someone from the Harpies with an urgent press release need. The knock came again, this time a bit more insistent. I grabbed my wand, mostly for show, and answered the door.
"Oh. Good morning, Mr. Boyd. Is my daughter at home?
Fuck.
So there I sat at the kitchen table waiting for tea very awkwardly with Lane Bramble while her daughter slept soundly in the next room. Lane had glanced at my wand but hadn't said anything. She used her wand to light the lamps and make tea while I sat at the table, realizing that I was wearing plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt from a barbeque place in South Carolina, I hadn't shaved since Friday morning and my hair was a mess. She, on the other hand, looked as if she'd just left a reception at the White House or 10 Downing Street. I'd almost started a conversation a couple of times while she was busy moving around the kitchen, but couldn't figure out exactly what to say. "Hi, remember me? I'm the Muggle that's your daughter's boyfriend. You can probably tell I didn't stay at Hogwarts last night. How have you been lately?" I'm sure that would have gone over well.
Finally the kettle sang it's little song and tea was poured. "How do you take it, Mr. Boyd?"
"White, one sugar, please."
We sat and prepared our tea. I took a long time making sure that my sugar was sufficiently dissolved. I guess a little too long.
"I believe you've probably stirred it enough by now." I lifted my head to find her looking at me over the top of her teacup. "You have a wand. My sources were correct."
"Your sources?"
"Emmaline Spleurgon and I had lunch the other day, and she mentioned it. Her husband Thomas is on the Wizangamot. I understand you can actually make sparks with your wand."
"Yeah, it's true. I can't do much more than that, though." I wondered what else Emmaline had to say, but I couldn't read anything from Lane's face. "Nobody really knows except for a few friends and the Wizarding folks at the meeting."
"That's why I stopped over this morning. After The Prophet is delivered your little secret will be out."
What? I'm in the damn paper again? "How do you know?
"I'm on the board of the Gardening Club with one of the editors. At our orchid event last night she gave me some advance warning. I believe that you, as well as my daughter, will be the news this morning."
She paused and took a sip of tea. I waited because frankly I didn't know what the hell to say.
"I wanted to ask Gwennie some questions" she looked at my t-shirt and pajama pants, and then directly at me "but it appears that you have already answered several."
Before I could say anything Melody groggily walked into the kitchen wearing only a t-shirt and rubbed her eyes. "Why are you up at this hour, Hank? Come back to…" she stopped rubbing her eyes and realized exactly who was in her kitchen "Merlin's pants! Mum?"
"Good morning, Gwennie. Why don't you join us for tea?" Lane's face was perfectly calm but there was an underlying hint of steel in her words.
Melody sat down at the table rather quickly. "Ok." She looked over at her Mom with a funny look on her face. "Why do you look like your having your portrait painted, Mum?"
"I have a charity breakfast function this morning and another appointment in the early afternoon. No time to change, but I'm not here to give you my schedule. As I was telling Mr. Boyd…"
"Hank, Mum. His name is Hank."
Something was going on here but I had no clue what it was. This wasn't the first time since arriving in Britain I felt like I'd walked in on the middle of a movie.
Lane acted as it was only a minor correction. "As I was telling…Hank, he will be the main focus of today's Prophet. You will also be a part of that focus, Gwennie. I dropped by to see if what I had heard was true, and based on the fact that" she looked at me and nodded her head "Hank answered the door at this hour has led me to believe the information is true."
"What, you wanted to know if Hank is my boyfriend? You had to come over at this bloody early…"
"Gwennie, language!"
"At this bloody hour to ask me that?"
Uh-oh. I'd heard this tone before. From the stories that Ginny told me, this had to be the tone that she used to tell reporters to shut up and made photographers nervous. I hoped she wasn't picking up steam.
"You could have owled me, Mum. But no, you didn't really care until it was going to be in The Prophet, so now all of your friends will know. You're worried about yourself, aren't you?"
Shit. She was picking up steam.
"And you didn't need to come over here this early just to ask me that. You just want to know if I'm shagging Hank."
"Melodia Gwendolyn Bramble!" Lane's face had lost it's composure at this point and her eyes were wide. A vein bulged on her temple.
Holy hell, there was no turning back now; Melody had a full head of steam. I looked up at her "Melodia?"
She snapped over to me. "Shut it." Then she swiveled her head to her mother. "Yes, yes I am shagging Hank. You're worried about how your precious society friends will react. You wanted to tell them it wasn't true, that your daughter wasn't with a Muggle. Well it is true. Very true. And for your information I also have a Hufflepuff tattoo on my hip. Anything else you want to know, Mum?
Lane got up from the table and gathered her purse to her side very quickly, the knuckles on her hands white from holding it so tightly. "That's quite enough. I think it best that I leave."
"Suit yourself, Mum. I could tell you lots more. Care for another cup of tea?"
Lane walked over to the door and her hand rested on the doorknob. "I don't think that would be a good idea. Goodbye, Gwennie."
She opened the door and was instantly engulfed in the flash from multiple cameras. Lane put her purse over her face and pushed her way through the gauntlet of press and eventually apparated away, leaving Melody standing in the open door, still only wearing a t-shirt.
"Sod off." Melody slammed the door shut and put her back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor. "Well that's a brilliant way to start the day."
Later I found myself drinking another cup of tea, this time wearing proper pants, in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Melody had owled Ginny, hoping that she wouldn't wake her up. We received Ginny's owl almost immediately, and after showering and becoming more presentable we ended up leaving via Floo. Ginny sat in an old bathrobe and what must have been Harry's old pajamas.
She noticed my glance at her choice of attire. "Magically expanded. Have to do that with everything now."
"I'm sorry we're here so early, Ginny." Melody's tone was very apologetic. "I'm sure you need the sleep."
"To be honest I'm not sleeping very much lately. It's so uncomfortable; I've been awake for hours. She's always kicking right when I am about to fall asleep."
Ginny did look tired. And also very big, but I knew better than to say anything about that. I nodded. "My sister had the same problem. She said she was looking forward to when the baby came so she could get a few hours of sleep in a row."
"And did it work?" Ginny looked at me hopefully.
"Well, not with the first one. It did with the second."
"At this point the Boy Who Lived is never touching me again. He'll be the Boy Who Was Permanently Hexed In the Sensitive Bits." Ginny laughed. "I keep telling myself it's just for a little bit longer."
I tried to remember, but hey, I'm a guy, we don't always remember stuff. "I know you've told me a million times, Ginny, but when is your due date."
"Ugh." She sat her teacup down. "Sorry, Hank. Its decaffeinated herbal tea, supposed to be good for the baby, but it tastes awful. It's April 1st, George and Fred's birthday. George said that if she's born on the 1st that he gets to pick out the name. Like I would ever let that happen."
I could only imagine what kind of name George would pick out. Before I could hazard a guess an owl arrived at the window with the paper.
Ginny leaned over to Melody "would you mind getting that? Getting up and down…"
"Not at all, Ginny." I looked over at Melody and we met each other's eyes."
Then the light went on for Ginny. "OH! The paper! Hurry, Mel."
Melody took The Prophet from the owl and spread it out on the table. Lane was right. Front page.
THE MUGGLE WHO WASN'T!
Exclusive details on Professor Muggle's Magical Abilities
Underneath the headline was a large picture of me from my interview with The Prophet before the Hogwarts term had begun.
I looked at the witches. "That doesn't seem so bad."
Ginny didn't say anything, she just pointed to the headline on the bottom section.
PROFESSOR MUGGLE LOVE TRIANGLE
Witches War for Muggle Love!
This time there were two pictures. One was of Melody and me from New Year's and the other…damn. It was the picture from when I'd asked out Medea taken inside of Madam Malkin's.
Before I could say anything Melody grabbed the paper and began skimming, then violently turned to the next page.
"Hey, not fair." Ginny looked over at Melody. "What does it say?"
Melody made an incredulous snort. "It doesn't say for certain, it just implies that when Hank was attacked I set it up because he was on a date with Medea."
Ginny couldn't believe it; she just shook her head in shock. "You wouldn't, those, I, oooohh…"
Melody threw the paper onto the table. "I will curse those bastards!"
"Please don't curse anyone. I don't want to do the paperwork." We looked and saw Harry standing in the doorway, cleaning his glasses on his robe. "It's nice to see you again, but why are you yelling in my kitchen on a Sunday morning?" He simply nodded in my direction, and I returned the favor.
Ginny held up The Prophet. "This is why."
Harry took the paper from his wife and sat down at the table. Nobody said anything while he read the headlines, and after turning to page two he raised his head and looked at us. "Makes things interesting, to say the least."
"Interesting?" Ginny was looking at her husband as if he'd just said that winning the lottery would be fine if it wasn't too much of a bother. "Harry, they're saying that Mel is working with the WLF!"
"Calm down, Ginny. We know that's not true, that'll be easy to clear up. Medea's interview might not be so easy, though."
Melody walked over from leaning on the kitchen counter to Harry. "Interview?"
"Um, yeah. Medea said that she didn't think it was the WLF but she wasn't sure about you, since you're one of those competitive, high-strung Quidditch types."
"I'm a bloody press secretary! I work in the office! I'm absolute rubbish on a broom!" Melody sat back down in her chair, fuming.
"I've never liked that woman, Mel. Now I have an official reason to not like her." Ginny shook her head and took the paper out of Harry's hands, wadded it up and threw it in the vicinity of the rubbish bin. "I'd set it on fire if I had my wand."
"Mum said I was in the paper, but she didn't tell me it was going to be like this." Melody's head slowly sunk until her forehead was on the table.
"I know you said you had a fight with your mum this morning, but you didn't give me the details." Ginny looked over at Harry and me. "Why don't you boys go out and get me some kippers. Donuts, too." Then Ginny turned back to Melody "Ok, start from the beginning. Spill."
I sat in my classroom dreading the arrival of the students. I'd eaten breakfast in my room that morning to avoid all of the questions that I knew were coming. There was no way to avoid it, but I was trying to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible. At least my first class for the day was the first years; they were one of my easiest classes to manage. Ultimately they began filing in, oddly quiet. When they had all taken their seats I realized that none of the normal chatter had happened; usually I had to settle them down and then the lesson went off without a hitch. Now they were all sitting perfectly still.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. "I am assuming that you have all read Sunday's Daily Prophet." The silent faces continued. "No questions?"
"We're not supposed to say anything after what happened this morning." Daphne Drapier, Gryffindor, had broken the silence.
"And what happened this morning?"
"I got house points taken away." Lavinia Ryder's eyes were riveted to the top of her desk. "One of the fifth years started saying bad things about you and I told him that you and Melody weren't like that and it was all lies and he wouldn't listen and I hit him with a jinx."
Hufflepuff loyalty strikes again. "I don't need to tell you that wasn't a good idea, Miss Ryder. I do appreciate your coming to my defense, though." I tried to say it as reassuringly as possible.
One of the Slytherin boys whose name I could never remember held up his hand. At least he'd learned to raise his hand, even if I couldn't recall his name to save my life.
"Yes?"
"Headmaster Longbottom said that we weren't to discuss it any further 'n that it was just The Prophet trying to sell papers." He paused, wondering if he could get away with it. "But is it true, Professor Muggle, that you can do stuff with your wand?"
Every eye was riveted to me at that point. I nodded. "But nothing close to what you can do. This is your first year at Hogwarts and you can do things that even if I practiced for the rest of my life I wouldn't be able to do. I have a very, very small amount of Wizarding blood from a very distant wizard ancestor. I've lived my entire life in the Muggle world until I began teaching at Hogwarts. I'm learning what it's like to live here, just as you will need to know how to live in the Muggle world at times. I think that's what we should be focusing on, so if you will turn to page 204 in your textbooks…"
"Remember, your assignment is due Wednesday. Miss Ryder, can I speak with you for a moment?"
As the other students made their way out she walked slowly to my desk. This was not a good day for her, I could tell. Lavinia was very studious, always asking for extra credit. From the house stereotypes she almost fit the bill to be in Ravenclaw. That she'd caused her house to lose points was obviously weighing heavily on her conscious.
"Ryder, I know Melody would be very grateful that you stood up for her. I know your heart was in the right place, but sometimes you have to let things go in one ear and out the other. Do you understand?"
She nodded quickly.
"This happened at breakfast, so I am assuming you were sitting at the Hufflepuff table. Was the boy you jinxed in your own house?"
This time the nod came slowly.
"Loyalty is a very good quality, but so is thinking things through. I know it's hard to think straight when you're angry; I don't do a very good job of that myself, sometimes." Then a thought came to me, something I had remembered reading. "Miss Ryder, did Headmaster Longbottom give you detention?
"Yes. He said that I have to do my detention with him."
"I see. Detention with the Headmaster is not something you want to make a habit of, but since you'll have a chance to talk with him, why don't you ask him about the year he helped win the House Cup for Gryffindor? I think you'll find the story very educational."
She looked at me, worried.
"Don't worry, Lavinia. I'll make sure he knows that I suggested you ask him. It'll be ok. Now hurry or you'll be late for your next class."
I was sitting in my room grading papers when Calliope came in with a letter from Melody. I'd written her about Lavinia's incident and knew that I'd receive a reply quickly. I was also wondering how her Monday had been.
Dearest Hank,
I don't care if you get in trouble with Neville; you do something nice for Lavinia. She was very brave to stand up to a fifth year boy. Obviously the git forgot about the part where Hufflepuffs are tolerant. She's only a little first year, what was he doing picking on her like that?
From now until Merlin knows when Calliope will be delivering my letters to Grimmauld Place. I tried to go home but the press was still camped outside. Somehow the Floo Network is broken at my house, so I know there will be wonderful pictures of me in the papers soon. Ginny and Harry are letting me stay with them until it all blows over, and it looks like I'll be here for quite a while. I also got an owl from Harpies management saying that I am on temporary leave as I can't deal with the press "when you and your Muggle are the big story." I think Ginny's grateful of the company, since Harry's been working very long hours lately. Hermione stopped by after work and wants Ginny to bat-bogey hex Medea. We all agreed it would be for the best, so now we just need to figure out how to do it and not get caught.
I'm glad your classes went well. Keep concentrating on your work. By the way, I felt my charm bracelet tingle this morning. I keep forgetting to ask you about that.
Write soon. I miss you.
Love,
Melody.
