Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl. Hogwarts Autumn Part Two
DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers. I own neither franchise and neither expect nor deserve any sort of financial reward or profit for this work of fanfiction. I am writing for my own amusement.
Positive reviews are welcome, though.
Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl
September eased into October. The effects were more noticeable: unlike Daria's part of Texas, the change from summer into autumn was no masquerade: the weather was definitely cooler. So this is what a real autumn is like, she thought. So there's something to those old stories about New England after all. She'd been through more than half a dozen Highland autumns, and there was little in common between a South Plains autumn and the drivel she'd seen in children's picture books.
Despite the continuing wonder and excitement of Hogwarts, Daria continued to worry about Laura Penrick's health. She sent Laura a letter and a couple of cards she'd obtained through the Weasley twins' growing black market. The youmg entrepreneurs had had the foresight to sound her out as well as other Muggle-born students as to the sorts of things that they'd be interested in buying. They'd already learned that Muggle students preferred to send non-magical notes and postcards to their non-magical friends and relatives. Daria had had to give them a lay-person's briefing as to the workings of non-magical postal systems: the Weasley brothers had been incredulous that Muggle postal systems used postage stamps and charged for letter and package delivery by weight as well as distance. Still, she was able to send mail out by owl to a knowledgeable off-campus half-blood whose Mum then dropped off Daria's and other Muggle-raised students' letters at the nearest mail box.
During the second week of October, Daria got a letter from the Crazy Twins. The Aldrete sisters said that they had settled into student life at the Instituto and were enjoying themselves. They'd sent along a couple of photographs to emphasize the point: the photos were magical and Daria watched them smiling and giggling over and over as the photographs re played again and again and again. Their uniforms were different: unlike Hogwarts' under-uniforms, which were modeled after those of British boarding schools, female students at the Instituto wore very attractive outfits that looked like they were modeled on traditional Mexican folk costumes. Daria felt a brief pang of jealousy before deciding to make Cuthbert's day and show them what the Aldrete sisters were up to.
She got up and walked over to the Hufflepuff table. She quickly spotted Cuthbert, he was listening to an older student talking about some of the magical creatures he'd dealt with. Cuthbert looked fascinated for a bit, then his smile faded away and he lowered his eyebrows. Daria knew that look: Cuthbert had decided that someone was feeding him a line of BS. She decided that this was a good time to cut in.
"Hey, Cuthbert," she said.
"Hallo, Daria," Cuthbert.
"Can I borrow the wizarding world's Steve Zissou here?" she said. Steve Zissou was a famous oceanographer and film-maker who'd made a number of famous documentaries about marine life. One of the other Hufflepuffs grinned. So not all wizards are disconnected from the big wide world, she thought.
"So what's this about?" said Cuthbert.
"I heard from some friends of ours," said Daria. "I just got a letter by Owl-Post."
"Who are they?" said Cuthbert.
"The Aldrete sisters," Daria replied. "They're going to school at the Instituto down in southern Mexico. They sent pictures." She produced the snapshots and handed them to Cuthbert.
Cuthbert was fascinated. "Nice to see them waving at me," he said. He continued to stare at the twins' pictures. "It looks warmer down there," he added.
"It ought to," said Daria. "The Instituto is down in Campeche and it's not known for blizzards and ice storms. It's a lot like spring much of the year, then it gets real hot in the late spring and summer."
Cuthbert was so fascinated with the photos that he wasn't prepared for one of his tablemates snatching the cards out of his hand.
"Hey!" said Cuthbert.
"Give those back," growled Daria.
She might have had a harder time getting her pictures back if the boys and the Aldrete sisters were both a little older, but Daria got them back with a little help from an older Puff who glared at the first-years and said "Hand them over." He then handed the photos back to Daria.
"Those girls," said the older Hufflepuff. "They're both a lot browner than you are. Are they Indians or something?"
"They are darker," said Daria. "Most of the wizards and witches in my home town are of Mexican ancestry. I'm one of the odd ones that isn't. Cuthbert lived in Highland, Texas for a couple of years and he's also considered to be an honorary Highlander."
Cuthbert blushed in response.
"So why aren't you going to the same school as these girls?" asked the Puff.
"My Spanish is non-existent and I was invited to come here," said Daria.
"I see," said the Puff, who probably didn't.
Daria pocketed the photos and returned to her place to retrieve her schoolbooks and went on to her next class. Hufflepuff's gossip mill sprang into action and by the end of the second evening had saddled poor Cuthbert as being an aspiring ladies' man with not one but a host of admirers, including a certain prickly auburn-haired Ravenclaw and two mysterious young witches in Mexico.
-(((O-O)))-
A couple of days later, Daria was out by the front entry over by the Great Hall when she saw Argus Filch dragging in a protesting older man dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, sweater and trousers and loudly complaining about his treatment in an American accent.
"This is some sort of mistake, I tell you!" said the American. "I'm only taking pictures! This site is marked as an archaeological site on the maps and is part of one of your national parks!"
"You've got no right to be here!" Filch replied. "You're trespassin' on school grounds and you're a bloody spy for some Muggle speculator." Daria's eyes opened as she noticed the camera gear draped over Filch's neck and shoulders and then recognized Mr. Lane's voice.
"Mr. Lane, what the Hell are you doing here?" she asked.
"You, girl, do you recognize this Muggle?" said Filch.
"Yes, sir," Daria replied. You don't deserve the "Sir" part. "He's Vincent Lane, a professional photographer from Lawndale, Maryland. I've met him a couple of times."
"You're probably working with him," Filch replied. "Since you claim you know him, you're coming to the Headmaster's office with us."
Daria's first response was anger at Mr. Filch's accusation. Her second response was resignation and a little worry. She'd never met the headmaster and her previous experiences with principals back in Highland hadn't been good.
"This is fantastic!" said Mister Lane. "So what are you are you doing here?"
"Going to school," said Daria.
"This can't be a regular boarding school," said Mr. Lane. "What are they teaching?"
"Stuff," said Daria.
There was some traffic in the corridors. Most of it were students going to or coming out of classes. They stared curiously at Daria, Mr. Filch, and Mr. Lane. Mr. Lane definitely looked like he didn't belong here.
"So how did you get in?" said Mr. Lane. "Did you apply?"
"They admit by invitation only," Daria replied. "I got invited." By that time they'd reached the staircases.
"There sure are a lot of staircases around here," said Mr. Lane.
"They built this place before the ADA got passed and they decided not to retrofit," said Daria.
"You guys must get a workout just getting to classes," said Mr. Lane.
"I know," said Daria. "That's why we don't have regular PE classes."
The journey to the Headmaster's office was getting to Mr. Lane: he was getting winded: Daria could hear him panting. The trip was getting to Mr. Filch, too, she noted with satisfaction, although his response was to hand some of Mr. Lane's camera gear to her and tell her to carry it. After more trudging and Daria wondering whether Professor Sprout would get upset with her for missing Herbology, they reached the base of the staircase leading up to the Headmaster's office.
Mr. Filch gave the password and the trio rode the staircase up to Professor Dumbledore's office.
The staircase began spiraling upwards towards the Headmaster's office, Mr. Filch looking balefully at Daria and Mr. Lane, Daria glaring in irritation at Mr. Filch, and Mr. Lane finally catching his breath.
"Fascinating," said Mr. Lane. "It's like magic."
"Shut up," snarled Filch.
They soon reached the top of the staircase and the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. Mr. Filch rapped on the door. The door opened and Daria, Mr. Filch, and Mr. Lane entered. Daria had never seen the Headmaster's office before. It was—impressive. There were devices that looked like Orreries set on tables in the front, screened cases holding mysterious objects and towards the headmaster's desk there were portraits of what Daria presumed were famous wizards and witches of years long gone by. In addition, there was the Sorting Hat and—could that be a phoenix.
And of course there was Professor Dumbledore. To Daria's dismay, the Headmaster was not alone. Professor McGonagall was with him.
"Ah, Argus, good morning! What brings you here?" said Professor Dumbledore.
"Professor, I found this man trespassing and spying on school grounds," said Mr. Filch. He pointed a finger at Daria. "And this girl here says she knows him. I think they're spying together."
"Well, Argus, let's sort this out," said Professor Dumbledore. "First, where did you find him?"
"I found him on the far side of school grounds, away from the gates and the road to Hogsmeade," said Mister Filch.
"And what was he doing there?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Fooling around with his Muggle camera equipment and spying, I don't doubt," said Mister Filch.
"Taking photographs," Mister Lane interjected. "I was photographing pre-Christian Celtic monoliths and their contemporary surroundings."
"Well, I caught him there and I brought him in," said Filch. "I'm convinced that he's up to no good, skulking around."
"So how does this girl, Miss Morgendorffer is it, play into this?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"The girl said that she'd met him before," said Filch. "I say they're in it together."
"Is this true, Miss Morgendorffer?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Is what true, Headmaster?" Daria.
"Do you know this man that Mr. Filch brought into my office," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Yes, sir, I've met him twice," said Daria. "The first time I met him was over three years ago in a grocery store in Lawndale, Maryland, where he lives."
"And the second time?" asked Professor McGongall.
"The second time I met Mr. Lane was at the El Fuerte National Monument in the state of Cibola," said Daria. "That was a bit over two years ago."
"What was he doing?" said Professor Dumbledore.
"He was a photographer," said Daria. "He was lugging around his camera gear. My Dad swapped some film with him."
"Did you say or do anything else?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"No, sir," said Daria. "He was going into the Monument, we were leaving. And that was the last time I saw him until Mr. Filch dragged him into the Castle."
"So were you photographing my students and my staff without permission?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"No," said Mr. Lane indignantly. "I'd barely crossed the fence when your guy jumped me," Mr. Lane said indignantly. "Besides, I don't do portraits. I do landscapes, architecture, and still-lifes. I do snapshots for friends and family but I don't do portrait photography."
"Did you see any of the buildings?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Only in passing," said Mr. Lane. "That was after your man dragged me in here."
"So what do you think of the Howard School?" said Professor Dumbledore, using the decoy name used to befuddle Muggles.
"The architecture's fantastic, but it's too modern," said Mr. Lane, missing Professor McGonagall's bulging eyes and her silently mouthing "too modern?" at his comment. "I'm photographing pre-Christian Celtic megaliths." said Mr. Lane. "This place is marked as an archaeological site on my map," he said accusingly. "What's this school doing here?"
Mr. Lane did catch Professor Dumbledore's smile at his comment. "It's been here for centuries," said Professor Dumbledore. "And you are on school grounds without permission, Mr. Lane."
"In regard to your question, there are a few Celtic megaliths just outside the castle, but you may find that the light is wrong for your photography this time of day," Professor Dumbledore said blandly, concealing any trace of guile from his voice. Daria remembered hearing that the Headmaster was a skilled legilemens. She wondered what the Headmaster was finding out about Mr. Lane's one-man photo expedition.
"Were there any other Megaliths nearby worth seeing?" said Mr. Lane.
"Not within walking distance of school grounds," said Professor Dumbledore. "I was told that there are some seldom-photographed megaliths on the Island of Lewis."
"I wanted to see those, but I couldn't make the ferry connections," said Mr. Lane.
"I think we can find someone who can help you find your way there," said Professor Dumbledore. Daria noticed the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes and wondered what Professor Dumbledore had in mind for him.
"Mr. Filch, could you escort Mr. Lane down to the waiting area next to the Great Hall?" said Professor Dumbledore. "I'll have someone make a sack lunch for Mr. Lane and we can find someone from the department to send him on his way."
"Oh, and Mr. Lane," added Professor Dumbledore, "We ask you not to take any photographs on school grounds."
"And the girl?" said Mr. Filch.
"Miss Morgendorffer seems to be the sort of young woman who knows discretion," said Professor Dumbledore. "I trust her to keep Mr. Lane company until his escorts arrive."
"I don't," said Mr. Filch.
Daria was sufficiently offended by Mr. Filch's comment that she missed Professor McGonagall mouthing "Albus, is this safe?" and Professor Dumbledore smiling and waving his hands in reassurance.
Filch walked them down to the ante-room, Daria using one arm to carry some of Mr. Lane's camera gear, leaving her wand hand free just in case. Filch opened the door and said "Go in." Someone had taken mercy on them and had provided a couple of wooden arm-chairs, both looking very Gothic.
"This is quite a school here," said Mr. Lane, who'd been busy ogling the surroundings.
"I think so," Daria replied.
"So what sort of stuff do they teach you?" asked Mr. Lane.
"Stuff off the standard curriculum," said Daria. "I suspect that if I ever go back to a regular school, I'm going to be doing a lot of catch-up work. Cramming pre-calculus is probably going to be a bear."
"So how long are you expected to attend here?" asked Mr. Lane.
"Seven years," said Daria. "That's assuming I last." She thought she would, but he didn't need to know that.
"And if you don't?" he said.
"I'll probably rejoin the conventional educational track," said Daria. "In any case, even if I finish my primary education at Highland High School, I don't think I'd have missed coming here for the world."
"So what brought you to this part of the Highlands?" asked Daria.
"Pre-Christian Megaliths," said Mr. Lane. I'd read and heard that there were a lot of them spread throughout the Highlands and the Isles, and I wanted to do a photo essay on how the pre-Christian peoples worshipped nature and how their monuments have become integrated into the landscapes over the centuries. I have a theory that a lot a lot of these Megaliths were placed in accordance with the seasons and the positions of the stars in the night sky and how they've continued to mark those dates even now."
Whatever, thought Daria. She knew from her reading that the Earth's axis slowly shifted over the aeons and that the stars themselves slowly moved, too. She was also pretty sure that the ancient Celts had other ideas about their religion but since Mr. Lane was a grown-up, she said nothing.
He went on to expound on popularized notions of what Muggle academics thought were Druidic practices, which Daria also knew weren't true, and her eyes slowly began to glaze over. She began to to think that maybe Professor Dumbledore had a point about setting him loose: Mr. Lane was caught in some sort of artistic tunnel-vision and as long as he was stuck there he could care less about the school buildings and its surroundings-all of which had been built since the Four Founders started Hogwarts in the late 900's.
"So what do you think, Daria?"
"Sir, in case you're wondering, I'm told that the Megaliths on the school grounds were moved from their original positions," she said. There, that ought to help put a damper on his curiosity about Hogwarts Castle.
"You don't say," said Mr. Lane. He frowned: a frown that Daria hoped would squash some of his curiosity about the school.
"I hope that the Professor is right and that you can get to the Isle of Lewis," she said.
"I'd sure like to go," he said.
"So what are you reading?" he asked.
"An Astronomy textbook," she said. Her textbook was a standard Muggle textbook about locating planets, their moons, and their positions in the sky. If Mr. Lane had any questions about what classes she was taking, she figured she could fend off mentioning magic for at least five minutes talking about astronomy.
Mr. Lane's response was to open one of his camera bags, pull out a camera lens and started cleaning it.
There was a knock on the door and a house-elf came in with lunch, served on plates with silverware. Damn, thought Daria. If Hogwarts had human servants, they could have continued to keep Mr. Lane in the dark. The food was good: sandwiches with carrots and sliced cucumbers on the side. Daria hoped she got a chance to finish it.
"What are those?" asked Mr. Lane.
"House elves," said Daria. "They're part of the school staff." Damnit.
"Just what do you teach around here?" asked Mr. Lane. Daria put down her book and surreptitiously picked up her wand. This is a grade A foul-up, she thought grimly. She wished she knew the Immobulus charm.
"I might tell you after lunch," she said, stalling for time. "I'm hungry."
There was a knock on the door and Andrew Brae walked in. Thank God. Daria hadn't had much to do with the Prefect since after she'd been settled into her room on her first day at school.
"Morgendorffer, keeping our visitor entertained?" said Brae.
"Hey, Brae," said Daria. "Care to join us for lunch?" she patted her skirt to show that she'd drawn her wand."
"Don't mind if I do," said Andrew.
"I've got a spare sandwich," said Daria. "They brought me far more than I can eat." She gestured at her plate.
Keeping an eye on the Muggle visitor, Andrew walked over and picked up the sandwich the American girl was eating.
"So what were you talking about?" he asked.
"Well, I told him we study stuff off the standard curriculum, that I'm likely to be here seven years if I graduate, and that if I return to my home town's secondary school, I'll have to do some catch-up work first. I also told him that the Megaliths on-campus got moved from where they were at least a century or so ago."
Brae was a half-blood whose father had chosen to become a teacher in the Muggle world, had gotten a teacher's certificate, and was currently teaching at a Comprehensive School in Carlyle, so he could appreciate the American girl's distraction. His Da would have put up with such vague answers; he'd have wanted more information, but this Muggle seemed to be accepting them.
"So I've heard the concept behind your photographic journey to this part of the Highlands," said Daria, "but Andrew hasn't. Maybe you can tell him about your idea and he could give you some pointers as to where to find some Megaliths afterwards."
"Well, as I was telling your young friend here, I wanted to do a photo essay on how the pre-Christian peoples worshipped nature and how their monuments have become integrated into the landscapes over the centuries," said Mr. Lane. "I have a theory that a lot a lot of these Megaliths were placed in accordance with the seasons and the positions of the stars in the night sky and how they've continued to mark those dates even now."
Daria wondered how much Brae knew about Scottish magical history. She was certain that he knew a lot more than she did. Some of the Scots were passionate cultural nationalists and made efforts to study their country's history. She wondered if Brae was in that group.
She watched Brae's facial expression change from discreet amusement to barely-concealed incredulity as Mr. Lane continued his exposition. She wondered if he was growing as bored as she was and if he, like she, was hoping that the Obliviators would soon arrive on campus and send Mr. Lane on his way.
There was another knock on the door, and three men in Auror's outfits walked in.
The Cavalry has arrived, thought Daria.
"We're the Obliviators," said the taller one with the close-cropped gray hair. "So which guy is your visitor?"
"The older guy out of school uniform," said Daria, causing Brae to chuckle.
"The Headmaster said that you know him," said the head Obliviator. "Did you tell him anything about the school?"
"Only that the Megaliths had been moved around and that I was studying a non-standard curriculum," said Daria. "He hasn't taken any pictures, this place is a bust, and he'd really like to go see the megaliths on the Isle of Lewis." Go ahead, take the hint.
"Are you the prefect?" the head Obliviator asked Brae.
"I am," said Andrew Brae.
"How old is this girl?" asked the Obliviator.
"She's only a first year," Brae replied.
"If she's only a Firstie, that lass is going to be a holy terror when she gets older," said the Obliviator.
"You, Mister Lane, is it?" he said turning his attention to Mr. Lane.
"Yes," said Mr. Lane.
"So you want to see the megaliths on the Isle of Lewis, do you?" said the Obliviator.
"I'd really hoped to," said Mister Lane, "but I'm having trouble getting ferry connections and traveling there would bust my budget. You see, I am photographing pre-Christian megaliths and how they have become part of the landscape…"
"Do you have all of your camera gear?" he asked.
"Yes, I have everything," said Mister Lane. "My clothes are back at the Inn."
"Well, I think we can get you there," said the Obliviator. "You can share your vision with me on the way to the school gate."
Just before turning away, he said "Thanks for minding him. We'll see him off."
"You're welcome, Sir," said Brae. Brae looked at Daria, then said "Megaliths?"
"That's what he's into this trip," Daria replied. "You should have seen Professor McGonagall's expression when he said that the Castle was too modern."
-(((O-O)))—
The next day, Violet told Daria that Professor Snape was at St. Mungo's, the wizarding hospital. She didn't know the reason, just that she was there.
"So do you suppose that they'll cancel the Potions classes while he's in there" said Dahlia.
"I don't know," said Violet. "But if I were you, I'd assume that Professor Dumbledore will be able to find some witch or wizard to teach while Snape is out."
The news of Professor Snape's mysterious illness continued to circulate around the school. Most students were happy about it; Professor Snape was not a popular teacher. On the other hand, a number of students, particularly in Ravenclaw, were less than happy that they were going to miss some potion making.
That evening, Professor Dumbledore made an announcemtn at dinner: he'd found a substitute to teach classes for a couple of days until Professor Snape was able to resume his duties.
Daria entered Potions Class Thursday afternoon, wondering who'd be teaching in Snape's place. She took her seat, sat down, and discovered that the Headmaster had found somebody had found somebody: a frail-looking elderly wizard with long gray hair going down to his shoulders.
"Good afternoon," he said. "My name is Nicholas Flamel, and I will be teaching First Year Potions this afternoon. Now will you please open your textbooks to page 168, and we'll get started…
-(((O-O)))—
Author's notes: Connie and Sarita Aldrete are OCs I created for my Daria Ravenclaw universe. Both are Latinas born of American parents. They grew up in the same town as Daria, then went their separate ways. They're also witches and attend the Instituto para el Estudio de las Artes y Ciencias Ocultas, a non-HP canon magical school situated in the Campeche region of Mexico.
The Life Aquatic and Steve Zissou was a movie released in 2004. I don't the rights to it either, but I thought it would be fun to set my Daria Ravenclaw stories in a universe where Steve Zissou was a real person.
Vincent Lane is a Daria canon character. He is the usually-absent father of Jane and Trent Lane.