The next few days passed rather quickly, between setting up her rooms and beginning research on her memory-linking proposal. Lyra had Kreacher bring a few artifacts from Grimmauld place, and displayed them in a dusty cabinet in the classroom. Her office, largely bare at the start, soon piled with books from the extensive library collection, and the desk became rather cluttered with scraps of parchment. She spent a good afternoon with Poppy Pomfrey, going over the physical aspects of memory, something the matron was apparently well-versed in.
"Mind-healing was my specialty, before I came here," Poppy said, sketching out an anatomical diagram of the brain, "I read quite a bit of muggle theory as well."
Lyra's proposal started with utilizing a person's memory to link them to a specific time and place, then manipulating the boundaries of the memory to bring the viewer physically there. It involved use of both a pensieve and a time-turner, which Lyra knew well, and extensive medical understanding of the human nervous system, which she was less informed about. She also delved into historical records, looking for anything that could be construed as anachronistic, and compendiums of artifacts for things that could manipulate memories.
She was, therefore, so absorbed in her notes that when Charity Burbage knocked on her office door to tell her the train was about to arrive, she almost didn't believe her.
"You're joking," Lyra said, capping her ink bottle.
Burbage didn't smile, "Not at all. We've had a message - the train was stopped before Hogsmeade, and searched by Dementors. Some students have taken ill, McGonagall wants you in her office.
Lyra swore.
"Dementors on the train? Dumbledore won't be happy," she said.
"No. And you're supposed to meet the student with the, ah, special considerations."
Right, she'd almost forgotten about the time-turner. Standing, she straightened her clothes with a wave of her wand, and hurried to McGonagall's office.
Lyra had never been in McGonagall's office when she was a student. It exemplified the woman - rich dark wood, a small fire, books alphabetized on long, low shelves. A board with what looked like prefect schedules pinned to it in neat rows. Boxes sat on top of the bookshelves holding buttons, matchsticks, teapots - the standard transfiguration starting equipment. Tucked in a corner was a box labeled "Abject Failures". Apparently the rumor that Minerva kept the worst of the worst was true.
"Good, you're here," McGonagall came in a few minutes after Lyra, looking harassed, "Dementors on the train; Albus is incensed. They aren't supposed to come within twenty meters of students."
"Burbage said some students were ill?"
"Of course, who wouldn't be after a visit from a Dementor? Potter seems to have fainted; poor boy, as if trouble didn't find him enough."
"Harry Potter?"
"Yes; lucky Remus was there to send them off. I've asked the house elves to make hot chocolate, but I suspect it will be a long night for some," she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Remus - not Remus Lupin?"
"Indeed, Albus hired him a few days ago for the Defense position. Our original hire backed out a month ago - something about vampires in Bolivia," Mcgonagall's tone suggested she didn't believe this, but she didn't comment further, "Now, when the train arrives I'm going to grab Potter and Granger. Poppy will want to see Potter, and Granger gets the time-turner," she took her wand, and tapped a drawer on her desk. It sprang open, revealing a small wooden box, the Ministry 'M' engraved on the top.
"I'd usually give a few lessons before passing these out," Lyra said.
"I assure you Miss Granger is highly accomplished and I have expressed the importance of only using it to redo one hour at a time, so she may attend all her classes. You are welcome to set up a time to meet with her to go over things, if you'd like, however."
"What were her O.W.L scores like?"
McGonagall opened her mouth to answer, but stopped as a train horn sounded from the clock on the wall.
"Ah, the train is here. I shall be back shortly," she swept out of the room, almost too quickly.
Lyra raised an eyebrow at the retreating figure.
It was nearly half an hour before McGonagall arrived back, two students in tow. Harry Potter truly was the image of James at that age, though he looked pale and somewhat sick at the moment. He also lacked the bravado his father had, the air that commanded attention. Lyra wondered if that was the Evans influence, or if losing his parents had made him that way.
Granger, however, was incredibly young looking, not much older than Potter. She had a tangle of brown hair that desperately needed proper care, and radiated an intensity that made Lyra do a double take at the Gryffindor colors on her robes. Not a Ravenclaw, then.
The pair of them sat at two conjured chairs, watching Lyra curiously.
"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter," McGonagall said, seating herself behind her desk.
At that moment, Poppy Pomfrey burst in, and Potter colored.
"I'm fine, I don't need anything," he said, shaking his head.
Pomfrey looked unimpressed, "Oh, it's you, is it? I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"
Lyra wondered what kind of trouble Potter seemed to attract, to provoke that kind of response. Pomfrey darkened at the news of Dementors, and began feeling the boy's forehead. She muttered to herself while she did so, at one point causing Potter to jerk away.
"I'm not delicate," he said, looking upset.
"What does he need? Bed rest? A night in the hospital wing?" McGonagall seemed to ignore Potter's obvious feelings to leave.
"I'm fine," he said, jumping up. He caught Lyra's raised eyebrow and colored further.
Yes, that was more like James, pretending nothing was wrong, even when it so clearly was. Sirius had been like that as well, choosing to hide behind a facade of bravery. Perhaps it was taught in Gryffindor, the way Slytherin taught subtlety.
It took her a moment to realize that Potter and Pomfrey were leaving and McGonagall had turned to Granger.
"Now, Miss Granger, as per our conversation at the end of last year, you still wish to take all the available courses."
"Oh yes, Professor," the girl said.
McGonagall nodded, and passed over the box, "This is your time-turner, then. Remember the rules we spoke about - only use it one hour at a time, and only to attend your classes," she gestured at Lyra, "This is Professor Rosier, our new Artificing instructor. She will help you with any questions that arise, as well as instruct you further."
Granger was looking with wide eyes at the time-turner, sitting in its box. It glinted in the candlelight.
"Miss Granger," Lyra said, suspicious, "How old are you?"
"Thirteen," she said, pulling her gaze from the box, "But I'll be fourteen in a little over two weeks."
Lyra blinked. They gave a time-turner to a thirteen year old. A child. She struggled internally for a moment, running a hand through her hair.
"Right, well if you could meet me at my office tomorrow morning before classes, I will give you some instructions," she said, finally, "Sixth floor, next to the portrait of Wendelin the Weird."
Granger nodded, and rose, looking at McGonagall.
"You may go," McGonagall said, looking down at her desk.
As the girl left, Lyra turned, "You gave a thirteen year old a time-turner."
"Unspeakable Jones approved it."
"You gave a thirteen year old the power to rewind time as she sees fit."
"Miss Granger is highly trustworthy, she will not use it for anything but its intended purpose of attending class," McGonagall met her eyes, "Not to mention I am sure you will be paying close attention."
"Oh I will. And I'll be speaking to Colin Jones. When I heard there was a student needing a turner, I assumed some seventh year, someone of age. Not a child." She shook her head.
"It is done now. Chances are, she will determine she doesn't need one of her classes and drop it by Christmas anyways," McGonagall stood, "Come on, we've missed the Sorting, but we can still make the feast."
They took their empty seats at the staff table, McGonagall next to Dumbledore, and Lyra to the right, between Sinistra and Babbling.
"Where were you?" Sinistra muttered quietly, "Severus was looking for you."
"With Minerva," said Lyra, equally quiet as Dumbledore had started speaking. She looked down at the other end of the table, where Severus caught her eye, raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Two seats from him sat Remus Lupin, looking tired and much older than he had the last Lyra saw him. His robes were worn, his hair streaked with premature grey.
"Not sure where Dumbledore found him," Sinistra said, "Looks like he could use the teaching money though."
Privately, Lyra agreed, but she frowned at Sinistra all the same. Babbling hushed them before she could comment, however.
"On a happier note," Dumbledore was saying, "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly agreed to fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Scattered applause, with slightly heavier noise by the Gryffindor's.
"Secondly, Professor Rosier, who will be teaching a new class, Artificing, to fifth years and above. If you did not get the chance to sign up for it when your supply list arrived, please speak to your heads of houses."
More scattered applause. Lyra saw some of the Slytherin's exchange glances. She wondered how many recognized the name, and briefly regretted her decision. Better than her real one, though. The backlash of Dumbledore hiring a Black at the moment would likely be catastrophic.
"Finally, I am sorry to say that Professor Kettleburn has decided to retire to enjoy his time with his remaining limbs."
Lyra remembered Kettleburn, a silver-haired curmudgeon with one wooden leg, one wooden hand, and several fingers short. She hadn't taken Care of Magical Creatures, but he was hard to miss.
"However, I am pleased to say that the position of Care of Magical Creatures professor will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take the position in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
The applause was much louder now, though again concentrated with the Gryffindors. Dumbledore's speech concluded, and the plates on the tables began to fill.
For the first time, Lyra realized how hungry she was, having skipped lunch to work on her proposal. It would be a while before she had time again, she figured, somewhat regrettably.
"Dumbledore only hired Lupin a few days ago," Charity Burbage had leaned over Babbling, "You should have seen Severus's face when he realized he'd been skipped over for the position again."
"Why?" Lyra said, with some surprise.
Burbage and Sinistra shared a look, "He's been after that position for years," Burbage said.
"And he and Lupin did not get along well in school," Sinistra added.
Lyra frowned. She remembered hearing Severus down in the common room, ranting about 'Those blood-traitors Black and Potter'. His fifth year, he'd become somewhat obsessed with Lupin as well, asking her where she thought he went every month.
"I can't believe he hasn't gotten over it yet," Burbage said, "It's been, what, fifteen years?"
The others shrugged. Lyra didn't want to correct her, though it had actually been seventeen, feeling it would be somewhat pedantic. She did notice Lupin leaving the staff table halfway through dinner, slipping into the entrance hall with a grimace, and made a mental note of it.
BLACK SEEN IN ENGLAND, SCOTLAND
2 September, 1993
Reports of mass murderer Sirius Black continue to flood in, writes Rita Skeeter, reporter for the Daily Prophet. Exclusive sources say at least one confirmed sighting has been reported in Berwick-upon-Tweed, a muggle settlement near the Scotland border.
"I have nothing more to report," says Rufus Scrimgeour, "Nor will I tell you what we believe the primary motivation to be, now get out of my office."
Aurors may continue to be tight-lipped, but this reporter has heard rumors that Black seeks to finish what his master once started: the death of Harry Potter. Whether Mr. Potter knows this remains unknown, but it seems he would do well to stay safe within Hogwarts walls. For more on Harry Potter and his defeat of You-Know-Who, turn to page B7.