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I Fall(out) to Pieces
By DireSquirrel
Chapter 14
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No one really knew who had made it, not even in the records that led to Hogwarts, A History. The book recorded "everyone" who was magical in time for the cut off: pureblood, halfblood or muggleborn. The book recorded the addresses of the next generation of witches and wizards. The Headmaster or Headmistress, or their deputy, was responsible for those letters to be sent to the appropriate locations and by appropriate methods.
Minerva McGonagall was the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had been a professor for decades and it was her pleasure and duty to introduce muggleborn children to Hogwarts.
Except this year.
Time after time, the letters went out and were returned undelivered. Unlike when Vernon and Petunia Dursley refused to allow Harry to open and respond, and the staff had charmed their house to fill with the invitations, these were returned because there was something preventing them from being delivered at all.
She knew they were alive, or else the book of students would not have produced the letters in the first place. And it wasn't just muggleborns, though all muggleborns were included.
"Albus," she said, walking into the Headmaster's office, "I have something I think you should see."
"Oh, yes, what is it?" he asked. He glanced up to see her holding a stack of folded parchment. He frowned. "Rejections?"
"No, undelivered letters," she replied, handing him one. "Look at the address."
The old man slipped on his reading glasses and inspected the letter. Though the first two lines differed depending on individual, the letters were all addressed the same way.
Name
Room
Vault-Tech United Kingdom Vault UK-13
Dover, Kent
"And these are all newly eleven, I take it?" Albus asked. "All chosen for next year, but were born after the cut off for this year?"
"Yes, mostly muggleborn, but a number are of magical families," Minerva explained. "Also Hogwarts letters for returning students."
To her surprise, her superior chuckled.
"It seems that Miss Granger and Mr. Potter went above and beyond themselves," he replied. He smiled at his deputy. "Minerva, UK-13 is the vault chosen for your favorite students and it seems that they are not alone. I knew they were bringing a few people, but not quite this many."
"Does Nymphadora have anything to say about this?" Minerva asked.
"If you read the names, you'll find she took part in the smuggling," Dumbledore replied as he flipped through the letters before handing the stack back to the younger woman. "Quite a few children of prominent Ministry officials. As disappointing it would be to not see these children this year and the next, I am pleased to know they are safe and that at least some in the Ministry took the warnings to heart."
"I knew Neville Longbottom would be joining his friends, but some of these names are quite a surprise," Minerva replied. "Tracy Davis, both Greengrass girls. Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff. Both Patil twins, Luna Lovegood. We're missing almost all our muggleborns of all years, plus the children of many Ministry employees. This won't go unnoticed."
"No, I don't suppose it will," Dumbledore said. "We shall deal with that when the time comes, Minerva. Just know now that they are safe from both Voldemort's forces and the bombs."
"Are you really sure this vault is safe?" Minerva asked.
"I have been assured by young William that it is as safe as he could make it for those inside and rather troublesome for those wishing harm," Albus explained. "We will have to trust the muggles to defend against their own dangers."
"Yes," she said tiredly. "I will miss them so. My next question is about hiring. Are you done?"
Albus looked like his Lemon Sherbert Drop had gone distinctly sour.
"Unfortunately Minister Fudge has taken the matter out of my hands," Dumbledore replied. "Delores Umbridge will be this year's Defense professor. Luckily, our old colleague Professor Slughorn will be returning as I impressed upon him the danger of remaining in the muggle world."
"Slughorn? What about Snape?" Minerva asked.
"While I do appreciate what Nymphadora has sacrificed for others, I felt it was necessary to have another nearby should Mr. Potter require assistance," Dumbledore explained.
"You sent him into the vault? What ever for? You know how he treats Mr. Potter!" Minerva protested.
"Severus has needed to keep up appearances, when Voldemort discovered Severus had received a vault ticket due to his muggle summer residence, he commanded that Severus use it," the old man explained. Minerva was clearly not satisfied by the answer. "While we lose a spy, I know there is another person near to Harry who I know I can trust."
"You had better hope you are right, Albus," she warned. "Because if he has pulled the wool over your eyes, you had better pray the rest of those vault dwellers are not simple sitting ducks."
"There are reasons Severus has my trust, reasons that are not truly important at the moment," Albus assured her. "But they are good reasons."
She looked at him, lips thinned as if she were about to protest, but she shook her head and gave him a rueful smile. "I hope you are right. I really do."
The first day of school at Hogwarts was particularly tense. It was impossible not to notice how empty the Hogwarts Express was. Malfoy, with his shiny prefect badge, strutted up and down the cars, looking for his prey. He knew from his father that the mudblood and Potty hadn't been chosen as prefects, McGonagall going for Brown and the Weasel. Draco Malfoy went from cabin to cabin, taking points for reasons only Severus Snape could appreciate.
"You there, fat badger- 50 points from Hufflepuff for being so fat," he said, Pansy cackling at his side. The young girl, a very young twelve year old who had just barely been born for the previous year's cut off, was not obese, far from it. She had a slightly stocky build that was perfectly natural for some girls in the early part of puberty.
"Get out of here, Malfoy," commanded an older Hufflepuff.
"Tut-tut," Malfoy said, holding out his badge. "Threatening a prefect. 100 points from Hufflepuff."
"And I'll take another twenty for you both being Hufflepuffs!" Pansey cackled.
"And I'll take two hundred each from Slytherin for Crabbe and Goyle being Draco Malfoy's robe sucking minions," said a voice behind them. Ron Weasley, flanked by his brothers and sister, glared down at the blonde menace.
"Weasels," Malfoy sneered in his best Snape impression. "Where's potty and the Mudblood? Haven't been able to find them. Potty upset that he's not getting the attention he wanted?"
"Wait! I heard something about this," Parkinson cut in. "Aren't they living in some dirty hole in the ground?"
"I did hear something about that," Malfoy replied.
"And I heard your daddy likes to suck snakes, that true?" Ginny asked.
Draco snarled and went for his wand, only to find every Weasley wand pointed right back at him. Crabbe and Goyle had his back as usual and Pansy was quick to suck up and followed suit.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lack of respect for a prefect," Pansy said. "Each."
Fred glanced at the Hufflepuffs on the other side of the doorway. The older one, one of the Badger Beaters, stood back out and pulled out his wand.
"Merlin, you weasels almost as bad as badgers," Malfoy taunted a moment before he caught a silent stunner in the back. Spells started flying. Ron went down to a jelly legs hex from Crabbe, but the Slytherins were quick to fall.
"Thanks, Mate," Ron said to the Hufflepuff beater.
"No problem, but aren't you going to get in trouble?" the sixth year asked.
"He's not pushing me around this year," Ron Weasley replied.
"Fred-"
"Yes, George?"
"I think Malfoy wants to be the first human test subject for some of our products," George said.
"Is that what being sprawled out on the floor drooling means?" Ginny asked.
"Looks like it to me," the Hufflepuff second year said.
"See, inter-house agreement," Fred pointed out. "It MUST be true then."
"Sounds pretty clear cut to me," Ron said. "Um... fifty points to Hufflepuff each for being loyal to each other. And um... fifty points to all of us for being brave. Except for the Slytherins."
"Thanks!" the second year girl said.
Draco Malfoy woke up, not sure of where he'd been, feeling like he had the Bubonic plague, the Andromeda Strain, the Phage and Dragon Pox all at the same time. His expensive tailored robes had been replaced by gardener robes that stunk of dung and some kind of fecal matter had been rubbed quite thoroughly into his hair. He glanced around the car and spotted Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy struggling to get out of a swamp. She narrowly dodged an angry crocodile that appeared out of the water, sending the three of them struggling to fight their way through the muck and sludge of the portable swamp.
"Use your wands!" Draco commanded. However, he had somehow acquired an incomprehensible accent so it came out as: "yus er vonze."
"Hem-hem," said a voice. Draco turned to gape in horror as Delores Umbridge dressed as a dominatrix. "That's four pants from Slytherin for this unseemly display."
"You can't do that!" he tried to say as he clung to his trousers before they could be pulled away, only to spout "ewe campt goo dha!"
"Oh, dahling, yes she can," drawled a Severus Snape dressed in Delores Umbridge's usual pink robes.
Draco screamed in horror.
"Now, don't be that way," Umbridge said, flicking a whip that extended from the end of her wand. The youngest Malfoy thought back to the last thing he remembered and realized it had to be Potter's fault, because Draco had been looking for him. Once again, a failure of logic did nothing to impede his decision making.
Fred and George looked down at the four Slytherins who were all screaming about something or other. Their enlarged tongues made it impossible for the test subjects to be understood.
"Extra Strength Lemon Sherbert Drops inducing fear, check," said Fred as she checked off a box on his clipboard.
"How do they respond to outside stimulus?" asked George before flicking off a derivative to Ginny's bat bogy hex, which instead made insects and centipedes crawl out of a person's nose and along their body.
"No! No!" Draco said called out, "it can't be true! When my father hears of this he'll be very mad at you ants!"
"Check!" said Fred. "Now pain response during the effect."
George went around and kicked all three boys in their reproductive organs. Ginny jumped in to help with Pansy with a swift kick to the buttocks. All screamed like they'd just been kicked in sensitive places.
"Yes, but I think we should try this test at least three more times," Ginny suggested.
"Our dear sister is quite correct, my dear brother," said Fred. "The scientific process requires reproducible results."
"And I concur," said George.
"On three, one two-
"ARGH!" Malfoy screamed. Fred and George gave their sister a half-hearted glare.
"On three, not before three, Ginny," they said in unison.
"Sorry, but I'd better kick the rest of them so the other tests are on the same baseline," she replied.
"Very well," the twins agreed, allowing their sister to kick the other three.
"One, two, three."
"ARGH!" all four Slytherins said together.
Pansy was in a world of colors. Pastel greens, blues pinks and purples with a little yellow here and there. There was singing flowers and smiling clouds. Rainbows fell out of clear skies. The air smelled of sweet spring apple blossoms wafting on the wind with pink trees flowing back and forth.
And a little purple pony with a rainbow mane was kicking her repeatedly in the gut.
"Don't kick me pretty princess purple pony!" Pansy called out, trying to hug the hallucination. "I just want to be your special friend!"
"Hello Gregory," said a white rabbit clad in robes of black leather, with a pair of small sunglasses perched on its nose. It's voice was a deep baritone that was incongruous with it's small stature and form.
"Hello," Greg Goyle replied.
"We're late, Greg, we're late for a very important date," the rabbit said. It was suddenly dressed in expensive red robes with a great big pocket watch hanging from a chain around its neck. The creature reached into a pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses like Potter wore, but with darkly tinted lenses, and handed them over to the boy
"Oh, that's not good," Greg replied as he slipped the glasses on. "We should get going. Uh, where are we going?"
"Down the rabbit hole of course," it said, holding out a paw. "Take the red potion or the blue potion."
"What happens if I take both?"
"Dude, best trip ever," a caterpillar answered for the rabbit.
"Okay," Greg replied, popping both potions into his mouth growing both larger and smaller at the same time. "But can you stop kicking me in the crotch, it kinda hurts."
"Hey, it's all about love, man," the rabbit said. "You gotta have love."
"All about the love," Greg mused. "That makes so much sense."
"Well, peace, love and music," the caterpillar countered. "And getting high."
"Touche," the rabbit said, giving his hooka smoking friend a bow.
Vincent Crabbe sat in a chair that kept kicking him in the groin.
Colors were everywhere and he was everywhere and he was the colors and he had a noodle which was his brain, but was actually a five but not always because it tasted like music which smelled like a guitar going "wah-wah-wah" but was actually an enchilada that liked to dance and eat the smell of Harry Potter's eyes.
He was a part of everything and nothing. He understood completely what it was like to be dead and understood completely what it meant to be alive. He reached out and had about twelve arms and pulled in the world which he kept within himself.
Everything made sense. Even how up was orange and left was half four.
"And that concludes our test for today," George said.
"Does that have anything to do with the fact we just pulled into the station?" Ginny asked.
"Just a coincidence," the twins replied.
"And now, the obliviation," Ginny said, flicking her wand at Malfoy's head.
"Yes, the most important part of human trials," Fred agreed.
"Miss Parkinson! Mr. Malfoy! It's quite impossible for Harry Potter to have done this to you," Minerva McGonagall said after she found them. She'd noticed Slytherin was missing two prefects when they failed to show up to escort their new first years. She found them sleeping in the manure of the Thestral paddock. Miss Parkinson had been clinging to a particularly nervous Thestral that simply kept very, very still even as the girl squeezed her a bit too much. After waking them up, they instantly blamed it all on Harry Potter. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Honestly, if you want to roll around in the dung there are other places and better times!"
"We didn't want to!" Malfoy snarled back.
"Ten points from Slytherin for taking that tone of voice with me, young man," McGonagall hissed. "And detention. If you like dung so much, you can assist Filch with cleaning the toilets. With a toothbrush."
"You can't do that!" he protested, "When my father hears of-"
"With your toothbrush, then!" With a glare, the Deputy Headmistress bent down and ripped the prefect badge from his chest. She flicked her wand and did the same to Pansy, who protested.
"You have both proven you cannot be trusted with the care of others in your house, on the first night no less!" McGonagall replied. "You'll both be having a long discussion with your Head of House before you go to bed."
Malfoy smirked. 'Professor Snape won't do anything to us,' he thought.
A short while later Draco would be quite disappointed.
At that same time, deep within the Forbidden Forest:
"And that's why everything is green," Vincent Crabbe replied to his new found Centaur friend.
"Huh," said Bane. "and here I thought it was because of the chlorophyll, I would have never guessed it was because the moon smells purple or that the sun was really the tip of a really long quill."
"I know," Vincent said, waving his hands to encompass everything. "It was like in that moment, I knew everything."
"Ah, I understand that feeling," Bane agreed. He passed a pipe to his new friend. "Have a puff and everything will make sense again."
"Thanks," Crabbe said. After a deep drag he let the smoke trickle out of his lips ever so slowly. He looked at a twig. "Wow."
"I know."
"Wow."
"That. That's a twig."
"Wow."
"I know, isn't it?"
"Wow."
"Dumbledore," Delores Umbridge said in as close as a sweet voice as she could manage. "Where is Harry Potter?"
Dumbledore glanced up at her.
"Huh? What?" the old headmaster asked.
"Where is Harry Potter?" she repeated.
"Why are you asking?" Dumbledore countered.
"Because he's not here and he never showed up for his trial," Umbridge replied. "I know you've got him hidden away somewhere."
"Oh, no, I haven't hidden him anywhere," Dumbledore replied honestly.
"Then where is he?" she demanded. "The Minister is very concerned of his use of magic this summer."
"Hmm... Sorry, can't help you, Lemon Sherbert Drop?" he asked holding out a tray. He raised his eyebrows. "They're fast dissolving."
"He has broken the law and trying to protect him from the consequences of his actions will-"
"Are you sure you don't want a Lemon Sherbert Drop?" he asked. "They're extra strength."
"No, I want to know where you are hiding a fugitive from law," she demanded.
"A fugitive? Do you really think I would hide a fugitive? The Lemon Sherbert Drops are really good, I'm sure you'll enjoy it," Dumbledore replied, pulling his best "I'm Awesome because I'm Dumbledore" routine. It was very similar to a certain starship captain's "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over how Awesome I am" routine, but worked better for old wizards dressed in robes of colors not found in nature.
"WHERE IS HARRY POTTER?" she screamed, her face red, as she slammed her palms on the table.
"If you can't be civil, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Dumbledore replied. "Honestly, not taking a Lemon Sherbert Drop when offered."
"Forget about the bloody candy!" the woman snarled. Dumbledore immediately popped a Lemon Sherbert Drop into her open mouth. Umbridge gagged slightly as it caught in her throat, but ended up letting it dissolve
"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" he said, giving her a scolding look. "Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?"
"Why is Harry Potter not here?"
"Oh, he's decided to leave the magical world," Dumbledore replied. "He tried to warn people and they didn't listen, so he decided to leave people to their fate. I think. Or he could have gone off to find Dumbo the flying elephant. Or was that my brother? You know, I'm not really sure. No, now that I think about it, my brother was definitely the one looking for Dumbo the flying elephant. He had such large ears you see, and he learned to flap them so he could fly like a bird." Dumbledore flapped his hands to mimic the animal. He squinted at the near apoplectic woman. "You do know what an elephant is, don't you?"
He paused.
"Madame Umbridge are you okay?" Umbridge smelled Dumbledore feel.
"Your face!" she screamed pointing at him. "Your face is melting!"
Dumbledore frowned. "That's not a nice thing to say," he replied. "Just because I'm getting on in years doesn't mean-"
"No! I know all the years," she replied as Dumbledore began to flash between colors like an Andy Warhol painting. Then she tasted music. Then she fell over.
Dumbledore stood up and glanced down at the woman shivering and drooling over the floor.
"I'll have to thank the Weasley Twins for the chance to test their new product after I escort Madame Umbridge to the Hospital Wing," he said before glancing up at his familiar. "Fawkes, do you know if my brother actually ever did find a flying elephant?"
The bird quickly shook his head.
"A shame, and here I thought that was what drove him to drink all those years ago," Dumbledore replied as he levitated Umbridge up from the floor, magically dragging her behind him.
"How is she, Poppy?" Albus Dumbledore inquired. "Any chance she might need quarantine?"
"Unfortunately no," the school nurse replied. "She's already worn off whatever the twins laced those candies with."
"She said my face was melting," Dumbledore mused. "Are you sure she's not a medical danger to the students?"
"I wish I could lie about this and say yes, but unfortunately at the time my oaths require me to say, no, she is not, at least not at this time," Poppy replied. The look of disappointment on the old man's face was almost comical.
"Unofficially, do you think she's capable of becoming a danger to the plans we've made?" Albus asked in a low voice.
"I read the books and journals Kingsley acquired for me, I had to order a new medical dictionary to understand much of it, but as far as I know, Hogwarts should be as safe as any muggle vault," she replied. "Aside from the first couple of days, have there been any problems?"
"Not that I am aware of, no," he said. "Nymphadora did say that her mother was learning all she could about muggle healing techniques to find a blend between the two."
"I wish her luck, some of the things I've heard muggles do..." she trailed of, her jaw set in a concerned expression.
"Actually, I've heard that some of the muggle concoctions have been better than some of her potions," Albus replied. "Something called a stimpak. It's positively amazing what these muggles have come up with. Has Pomona told you about Mr. Longbottom's description of one machine? It can create an entire plant from a single sample, even a dead sample. Incredible!"
"It is amazing, but something so many would never believe," Poppy responded, glancing pointedly to Umbridge's hospital bed.
"Yes, unfortunately," the headmaster reluctantly agreed. He glanced toward the potion cabinet. "Are there any other ingredients you feel we might be missing? Some that we do not yet have in stock?"
"A few," Poppy agreed. "But with a few special purchases, we should have little difficulty getting the stock. I've already given the list to Minerva."
"Good, good," he said. "And you have no objection to what we're planning?"
"Albus," she said flatly. "My oaths are to do my best to keep people safe. Healers are specifically instructed that we cannot save everyone, but we must do our best to save those already in our care. This is much preferable to other solutions that were considered."
"Thank you," he said. "Though I do believe that you should, perhaps, choose a few apprentices this year. I'm sure there are some students interested in the Healing arts."
"I've been considering that myself these past few years, especially with Mr. Potter's injuries," the school nurse replied. "It might be a good idea to arrange for a healing elective course."
"Ah, yes, a wonderful idea! Perhaps one for those who have completed their OWLs and beyond," Albus replied. He glanced up as Umbridge made the first sounds of waking up. "Should she ask about Mr. Potter, direct all questions to me."
"I don't want her in here on a regular basis," Poppy warned. "This wing is supposed to be a place of healing, not extra stress."
"Yes, indeed," Albus said with a twinkling eye.
Next Time: Hello... hello... hello... hello... Hey! It echoes!