A/N: This chapter is dedicated to new follower, awryn2! Welcome to the family, and long may you enjoy!
-C
Lydia got up early and showered. It was her turn to be on the welcoming committee for the examiners, and it was her first time doing it. She felt like a teenager again, doing her hair and hoping she didn't make a fool of herself in front of people who would decide her fate. Except these people no longer had any power over her, and she was just there for ceremonial purposes. She kissed Severus before she left for the entrance hall, and she was pleased to see that Albus and Minerva were already there, talking calmly while the earliest students went to breakfast.
"Good morning, my dear," Albus said. His smile was bright, almost too bright, and Lydia was nervous. "Madam Marchbanks is particularly looking forward to seeing you. She has followed your career very closely, you know."
"Charming," Lydia said, rubbing her elbow. She barely remembered Griselda Marchbanks, who had administered several of Lydia's exams, once up on a time. "They're arriving soon?"
"Very," Minerva said.
Minerva, too, seemed confused by just how cheerful Albus was. Lydia wanted to ask what this was about, but she had a feeling she wasn't supposed to, so she smiled and nodded, and waited patiently for the arrival.
Hagrid led the contingent in, and Madam Marchbanks, the incredibly small, stooped witch, led the pack. Her face was even more lined than Lydia recalled from her own time as a student, drooping almost comically as she walked. Lydia glanced over the other examiners, smiling a little at the sight of bald, beaming Professor Tofty.
"Albus," Madam Marchbanks said, reaching out to him. "Good to see you, as always."
"Likewise, Griselda," he said. He kissed her small, thin, loose-skinned hand. "I trust your trip was well?"
"Oh, it's a quick trip, and you know it. I won't say no to a cup of tea, however." She grinned at Lydia, which was a strange sight on a face with so little muscle control over all the lined skin, like masses of thick cobwebs hanging over her bones. "Professor Lydia Rowe. I've been begging Albus to put you on the welcoming committee for years now, ever since you started. I can see he's not too noble for a bit of social bribery."
"Nonsense," Albus said.
Lydia wasn't sure what Madam Marchbanks meant about social bribery, but she had a feeling it was a correct assessment. Minerva, sensing there was something private Albus wanted to discuss, offered to show the examiners to their guest quarters, and Albus offered for Griselda Marchbanks to come with him and Lydia to his office.
Lydia walked a few steps behind them, curious, but tuning them out as they discussed the good old days. Apparently, bizarre as it seemed, Madam Marchbanks was even older than the surely-ancient Albus Dumbledore, because she had administered his N.E.W.T.s. Lydia tried to guess silently how old that would be as they walked. Over a hundred, certainly.
When they were settled in Albus's office, tea in hand, Griselda peered up at Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait, scowled, and said, "Alright, Albus. Before I get to have my delightful conversation with Ms. Rowe, let's talk about why I'm really here. You want me to repeal the Wizengamot's decision on your petition."
Lydia frowned. This sounded very official, so she wondered why she was being allowed to hear it.
"As much as I would like such a thing," Albus said, folding his hands, "you don't have that sort of power."
"Not alone," she said, the muscles near her lips twitching. "But you would need my support if you were to get the motion pushed to the Minister. Have you considered going straight for the source?"
"You mean asking Cornelius personally for permission to go to Azkaban prison?" Albus said. Lydia shivered. She understood, now, why she was here. For whatever reason, Albus's petition to see Sirius was denied, and now he was trying to find a way around it. Social bribery, indeed. "The thought has occurred to me, Griselda, and I am not above it, but I would prefer to have it sanctioned more…officially."
"Why? What do you hope to find, Albus? And why now, a decade later? If you thought he was innocent, you would have spoken up at the time."
"I did speak up at the time," Albus said, he was frowning, now, too. "Not necessarily for his innocence, but I did petition that he have a trial. You know that Barty Crouch categorically refused. The Ministry wanted it all to be over. They didn't want more trials."
"We all make our mistakes," Griselda said. "Again, Albus, what good would come of talking to him? They say he's mad. They all end up that way, I suppose. The best case would be that he was mad when he went in."
"He wasn't," Lydia whispered. They both looked at her, and she was as startled as they looked that she had spoken. "Whatever Sirius was, I'm certain he wasn't mad."
"I quite agree," Albus said. The whisper was gentle, and she could almost feel the pity. "But what I hope to gain, Griselda, is what we could have gained from a trial. Reason. Motive. Potential allies, or puppet-masters. If he was coerced, we should know who coerced him, because it's likely they escaped prison, as so many did. If he joined willingly, we should know why, and we should know who worked with him, and to what ends. Trials aren't just for deciding guilt, as you well know. They're a place where the truth can be brought to light, that information can be gathered. And as for impetus…let's just say that recent events have reminded me that there were things I neglected post-war, things that should never have been left alone."
Lydia shivered again, but Griselda didn't seem to notice. She nodded slowly and said, "I think you're right, Albus. And Merlin knows, the Potter boy's presence in our world again has a lot of us thinking. But you won't get the sixty percent you need to re-open the vote, not in the next year."
"I concede that it would take time," Albus said, inclining his head.
Time? Lydia couldn't afford time, not if there was someone actively trying to hurt her, maybe even kill her. She stared at Albus, astonished.
"I maintain that you should petition Cornelius," Griselda said, frowning. "However…if you wish to make it a formal petition, I would sign my name, and I think we might be able to get a few other signatures. Tiberius has always been persuadable. And Amelia should be on your side, if you can convince her justice can be served by it."
"Of course," Albus said.
"You draft a proposal and talk to the members you believe would aid your cause," Griselda said. "I think, by the end of exams, you might have your approval."
Albus thanked her, and before he could say anything else on the matter, she finished her tea, stood, and said, "Now, I was promised a conversation, so if Ms. Rowe would be so kind as to accompany me to the staff room, I think I'll have that conversation now."
"Of course, Madam Marchbanks," Lydia said, trying not to smile.
"Griselda, please. And I shall call you Lydia."
"Naturally," Lydia said, sharing a smile with Albus before she went to the staff room.
They were barely out of Albus's office before Griselda said, "Let me give you a little secret about dealing with Albus Dumbledore, Lydia." Lydia nodded. "Always make it clear that you see his manipulations. It won't stop him trying it, and it doesn't mean you should always work against them, but it will gain respect, and he'll be more open for the respect."
"That seems reasonable," Lydia said.
"Your N.E.W.T.," Griselda said, "was a thing of beauty and purity, you know. One rarely sees that in Arithmancy."
Lydia demurred, brushing off the compliment. She knew that many students who made it to the Arithmancy N.E.W.T. were scraping the very ceiling of their ability in the subject, and scraping the ceiling in anything could lead to desperate and clumsy attempts at success, especially for those who needed the grade for their dream career.
"Modesty, whatever you've heard, is no virtue," Griselda said sternly. "Humility, yes, but modesty can be one of two things: it can be utterly false self-delusion to cover one's pride, or it can be a deplorable lack of sense of self. From what I can gather, you suffer more the latter than the former, which is the better side of that coin to live on, but best to find a different coin, Lydia. You have tremendous worth. You are one of the most brilliant scholars these halls have produced in living memory, and perhaps in history."
Lydia frowned, thinking of Lily, James, even Sirius. She'd been nothing as a student compared with what they could do without even trying.
"There are more important things than book smarts," Lydia whispered.
Griselda snorted with surprising force and volume, and Lydia couldn't help smiling.
"Perhaps you would have been this way regardless—I couldn't say—but the war did a horrible thing to many people. Would you argue that Bridget Wenlock is any less valuable than Albus Dumbledore?"
"No," Lydia said, startled by the question, answering before she realized what Griselda Marchbanks was suggesting.
"Albus's spellwork is extraordinary," Griselda said, nodding. "But just because she didn't fight a notorious dark wizard doesn't mean she didn't have immense value to history and our societal development. We need scholars, we need creators, we need visionaries, we need politicians, and yes, sometimes we even need soldiers. None of those roles is more or less important than the others."
Lydia didn't know what to say that wouldn't somehow prove Griselda's point about modesty right, so she said nothing. They reached the corridor of the staff room when Griselda said, "I was so disappointed that there weren't enough students in your year to do Alchemy. I would have loved to see what you might have done with that subject."
"Albus has me studying it now, actually," Lydia said, eager for a change of subject. "He wants the option of having someone else qualified to teach it, should we have enough students to offer the course."
"About damn time," Griselda Marchbanks said with a laugh which was, like her snort, somehow bigger than it should have been from her small frame. "I've been telling him for a solid five years that he should get you into Alchemy." Lydia must have showed her surprise, because Madam Marchbanks winked and said, "You didn't think all of Albus Dumbledore's bright ideas came from his own head, did you?"
Lydia wasn't sure what to say, but she was spared of having to decide, because they reached the staff lounge, and Professor Tofty had a large stack of parchment to hand over to Madam Marchbanks, and Lydia wasn't welcome to stay, for the integrity of the exams. Lydia wandered back to the Great Hall in a kind of daze, wondering what to make of her very strange series of interactions with Madam Griselda Marchbanks. The matter with Sirius and Albus's planned trip to Azkaban would have been food for thought on its own, but then the conversation about modesty and Alchemy…
But she didn't have time to consider it. She had to prepare to give her own exams to students, and she had a lot of her own work to do, and a life to live, and nightmares to try to keep at bay. Lydia took her seat at the Head Table, Severus already waiting, already having poured her tea. Lydia thanked him.
"How were the examiners?" Severus asked, obviously not caring, but feeling he ought to ask. Lydia couldn't help smiling at the effort, however small.
"That Madam Marchbanks is a force," Lydia said. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to tell him, but it seemed a safe and honest starting point.
"She ought to be," Severus said, smirking. "Heading the examiners and sitting on the Wizengamot? You'd hate to have a weakling."
Lydia was still thinking over Madam Marchbanks's words on modesty when she greeted her third year students for their exam that afternoon. Many of them looked exhausted already, and she wished she could get them to just listen to her for once when she told them how important it was to take care of themselves during the exam season. Although, even Lily had been bad about that, so she didn't expect it to change. Over-achieving students since the dawn of education had been doing this for exams.
"You have your quills and parchment before you," Lydia said to the expectant students. "The hourglass will count down your time, should you ever wish to know how much of the exam is gone. The questions and equations will appear when I start the exam. If you leave the room, you forfeit any unfinished questions on the exam. There is no opportunity for extra credit. Are there any questions before we begin?"
A couple of students looked like they might ask something, but it was Cedric whose hand went up. Lydia nodded for him to speak. He said, "Are we expected to stay the full time if we finish early?"
Lydia couldn't help smiling. She thought of her own super-fast exams, and then she thought of Sirius watching her test, knowing he would finish quickly as well. Her smile melted.
"As much as I admire your confidence, Cedric, I should warn you that you are far more likely to not finish than you are to finish early. In all my years teaching, no one has finished early, and only about ten students have ever finished the whole third year exam."
A few students paled, but most of them seemed to take this as a relief. If they didn't finish, that was alright. They were normal. Cedric just smiled and said, "But if we were to finish early, would we have to stay, or would we be dismissed?"
Thinking again to her own time as a student and feeling her insides tighten and twist, Lydia said, "I tell you what, Cedric, if you finish early, I'm going to let you set the tone on that one. Stay or leave. Your choice. Whatever you chose would become my new policy, should you actually finish early. For the rest of my career."
A couple of students sniggered, but Cedric just nodded, thanked her, and said he had no further questions. Lydia walked across the front of the room to be certain everyone had only their approved quill out, and that all students had deposited their wands in the boxes at the back, which she always provided to avoid cheating. When she was satisfied, she flicked her wand and the students began to work on the problems that appeared on their exam sheets. Lydia paced the room, watching the students do as she always suggested: read the whole exam sheet, then start with the ones you're sure you know how to do, then work from there, being very careful of the directions. Even for the students who didn't continue with Arithmancy, either because they dropped out or failed out, she liked to think that at least she made them better students, more meticulous consumers of information, and better able to articulate their ideas. She saw that as much a part of her job as making sure they could do Arithmancy.
They were not even halfway through the allotted time for the exam when she startled at movement in the corner of her vision. Lydia turned to see Cedric standing, exam in hand. She was about to shake her head to tell him that he couldn't ask her a question during his exams, but then he held out the parchment to her, confidently. She took it, turning it over, realizing he'd answered everything. She wanted to ask if he wanted to look over his answers, but she knew Cedric. Of course he'd already checked them before handing her the paper.
"Your choice," Lydia said with a weak smile. She was true to her word, after all.
Cedric nodded, wished her a good day, and left the rest of his classmates scrawling away on their exams. Lydia watched him leave, impressed, and wishing she'd been able to leave when she finished early for most of her exams as a student.
When she finally did call time on the exam, the students groaned, stretched, set their quills down, and stood up. Lydia thanked them, and there was a chorus of thanks back, and Lydia watched them leave, chatting, sighing, and some straight-up complaining to each other. When the door closed behind them, Lydia sat at the edge of her desk, satisfied. She did warn her students, always, that she didn't pull punches with exams.
One benefit of being the teacher of an elective was that she only had to administer three exams in the two-week period. The drawback of this was that she had far too much time on her hands compared to most of her peers. The list of other professors who were available most of the exam period was fairly short and mostly dull. Professor Babbling was a bit standoffish and difficult to talk to. Sibyll Trelawney hardly ever came out of her tower, and Lydia wasn't inclined to talk to her when she did. Kettleburn's exams were so involved, he barely made it up to the castle in between, and would spend his meals and spare time with Hagrid on the grounds. But Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, was sometimes to be found in the staff lounge, and she was always decent to talk to.
"Lydia," she said brightly. "You had the third year students?"
"They seemed just fine," Lydia said. She held up the kettle to ask if Charity wanted a cup, but Charity shook her head.
Charity Burbage was a kind, bland woman, but she always was friendly, always warm, and she was perhaps the one person on staff who treated each staff member alike, as if she never had opinions about other people.
"Do you know, Lydia," Charity said brightly, "you're an inspiration. If I am ever half as dedicated and versed of a teacher as you are, I should count myself as successful."
Lydia laughed, deflected, and poured her cup of tea.
A/N: So, Lydia sees a little more about what Albus must do to get this meeting with Sirius, Griselda Marchbanks gives her a bit of a pep talk, and Cedric Diggory is a testing fiend. Also, little bit of bonus there with some Charity Burbage sprinkled in. A very significant thing is going to happen at the VERY end of book three, right after all the shenanigans. She's going to start relying on and confiding in Charity more and more.
Someone did mention in reviews that Lydia doesn't have enough female friends. I mean, aside from the fact that literally all of her female friends were killed in the war, when she did try to befriend Dalia, it didn't exactly go…well. So she does have some latent trust issues. And most of the DADA profs have been male since. She's friendly with Minerva, although it's always a little weird to be "friends" with people who were once your teachers. And she's got Narcissa now, which is a friendship, if not a totally comfortable one, always. Baby steps, guys.
Currently drafting some more in Book 2. Getting very close to Halloween now, and everything Lydia thinks is going to happen this year is going to be turned quite abruptly on its head. Also, Cedric makes a request that's going to push Lydia out of her comfort zone.
Review Prompt: If you could be friends with only one person on the Hogwarts Staff, and it can't be someone (apart from Snape) who is one of Harry's DADA teachers (mostly because I want to take Remus out of the picture), who would you pick? I'd like to believe Snape and I would be bros, but if I'm honest with myself, it would never happen. Probably I'd be friends with the Astronomy professor, just on sleep schedule alone.
-C