"Ready Rach?" Mr. Jacobson poked his head into the room of his
daughter.
"Yeah dad–just a sec." Rachel checked for the fifth time that her broom was still there.
"Rachel sweetness, that broom isn't going to run away."
"Yeah, I know–I'm just–" Rachel clicked the locks of her trunk shut. "Excited."
"So I see. Come on, and give me that sucker." David took one end of the trunk and started dragging it across the floor. "Good lord Rachel! What have you got in this thing?"
"That seventh level spell book is very thick–"
"I'm just joking! So you're on seventh level now?"
"Yeah. Instead of taking Divination I take advanced Potions and Charms with the older kids. Didn't you already know that?"
"Yeah. It's just–your mother and I are under a lot of stress. The French minister is sick and she started practicing medicine again to try and help him. The only problem is, we have no idea what is making him ill. She is with him now, which is why she can't see you off. I've looked at him as well, to see if I can make a potion to treat his symptoms, but nothing seems to work." Mr. Jacobson wrapped his arm protectively around his daughter. "But, let's not worry about that, shall we? We better hurry, don't want to miss the train."
Rachel and the rest talked on the train about many things. Rachel was so excited when she got to Hogwarts that she almost didn't hear McGonagall call her name. Finally Hermione nudged her and told her
"GO!" In a harsh whisper and Rachel followed the Professor out into the hall.
McGongall looked at Rachel for a while before speaking.
"You are not in trouble, so don't think that. I merely have to clear up a few points with you before term begins. First of all, because you were the reserve keeper for Gryffindor, you are automatically entered as a person auditioning for the team. Second of all, you're requests for waiver from class for the reason of–" She looked at a paper, "Yo-om Kip-po-ur has been granted by Professor Dumbledore. You will receive more information as the date nears. Now hurry in, you'll miss the sorting."
Rachel missed the song of the sorting hat, but saw most of the sorting. She was hungry though. She had eaten sandwiches and mountains of candy on the train, but she was still famished. She dug right into her meal, feeling happy to be with all the other Gryffindors.
After the meal, Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.
"Now that you all have shoved your faces with the food in front of you, excellent nosh though, I have some people I need to introduce to the new first years." Dumbledore introduced every teacher that was sitting there, except one. "And finally, this teacher is new, I would like to introduce Professor Paige Randolph, our new defense against the dark arts teacher. Professor Randolph was once a Hogwarts student, and is now a dear friend" Professor Randolph was a tiny woman with overly large glasses and dingy auburn hair. It was rolled around her head, and, instead of making her look more respectful, she looked like a person with a basket on their head. She kept twitching, and giving involuntary jerks. Finally she spoke, with a very deep voice and a hint of a German accent.
"I vas a Ravenclaw." She managed to speak, and Rachel compared her to Professor Flitwick, to find she was not much bigger then the charms Professor.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and all talk was hushed. "I have still yet to say. We all know that Voldemort has risen again–" flinch from Ron, near spasm from the DADA teacher, "and I would like to tell you that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the country to be right now. And to third years and above, I would like to tell you that we will still go to Hogsmede, but proceed with only the upmost caution. That is all, off to bed."
Once they were upstairs, Hermione whispered, "What did Professor McGonagall talk to you about? I didn't want to ask at the table because it was probably personal."
"Well, all she talked to me about was getting a waiver from class for Yom Kippour."
Hermione looked blank. Again. Why this child could read about nearly everything and not learn about the Jewish religion was beyond Rachel.
"The time where you pray for forgiveness from your sins and to be inscribed in the book of life, and you fast. Remember?"
"Oh yeah." Hermione yawned and hunted around for her toothbrush. "I remember now."
Rachel began hanging up some clothes in the wardrobe so they wouldn't be wrinkled. All her work cloaks, her winter cloaks, her current dress robe, still wrapped up, and her old dress robe. It was a really beautiful thing, navy blue, covered with tiny little crystals that looked like stars. With her hair rolled up and crystals in that as well, she looked like the night itself. She placed that in the wardrobe, then came upon the thing she had been dreading.
The robe fell in soft silver folds. One could easily imagine that it was an invisibility cloak, though, when Rachel and all the other junior judges wore it, they were anything but invisible. They had worn these beautiful robes for the tasks and photo shoots. And then there were the badges. Rachel's hand went to her throat, and she pulled out the necklace. Of course, it didn't start out as a necklace, it was a proud shiny silver badge, that said "STAFF" in cursive handwriting, and let Rachel and the other Junior Ministry Judges go anywhere (almost) to research anything. They simply had to show the badge and they got to read the restricted section, go to important meetings and learn top secret things. The badge was a sign of power. Then Cedric died, and Rachel stung the badge on a shiny silver chain, put it on, and decided never to take it off. Everyone had their own way of remembering, and that was hers. Rachel finished putting everything away, brushed her teeth, and went to bed.
"Yeah dad–just a sec." Rachel checked for the fifth time that her broom was still there.
"Rachel sweetness, that broom isn't going to run away."
"Yeah, I know–I'm just–" Rachel clicked the locks of her trunk shut. "Excited."
"So I see. Come on, and give me that sucker." David took one end of the trunk and started dragging it across the floor. "Good lord Rachel! What have you got in this thing?"
"That seventh level spell book is very thick–"
"I'm just joking! So you're on seventh level now?"
"Yeah. Instead of taking Divination I take advanced Potions and Charms with the older kids. Didn't you already know that?"
"Yeah. It's just–your mother and I are under a lot of stress. The French minister is sick and she started practicing medicine again to try and help him. The only problem is, we have no idea what is making him ill. She is with him now, which is why she can't see you off. I've looked at him as well, to see if I can make a potion to treat his symptoms, but nothing seems to work." Mr. Jacobson wrapped his arm protectively around his daughter. "But, let's not worry about that, shall we? We better hurry, don't want to miss the train."
Rachel and the rest talked on the train about many things. Rachel was so excited when she got to Hogwarts that she almost didn't hear McGonagall call her name. Finally Hermione nudged her and told her
"GO!" In a harsh whisper and Rachel followed the Professor out into the hall.
McGongall looked at Rachel for a while before speaking.
"You are not in trouble, so don't think that. I merely have to clear up a few points with you before term begins. First of all, because you were the reserve keeper for Gryffindor, you are automatically entered as a person auditioning for the team. Second of all, you're requests for waiver from class for the reason of–" She looked at a paper, "Yo-om Kip-po-ur has been granted by Professor Dumbledore. You will receive more information as the date nears. Now hurry in, you'll miss the sorting."
Rachel missed the song of the sorting hat, but saw most of the sorting. She was hungry though. She had eaten sandwiches and mountains of candy on the train, but she was still famished. She dug right into her meal, feeling happy to be with all the other Gryffindors.
After the meal, Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.
"Now that you all have shoved your faces with the food in front of you, excellent nosh though, I have some people I need to introduce to the new first years." Dumbledore introduced every teacher that was sitting there, except one. "And finally, this teacher is new, I would like to introduce Professor Paige Randolph, our new defense against the dark arts teacher. Professor Randolph was once a Hogwarts student, and is now a dear friend" Professor Randolph was a tiny woman with overly large glasses and dingy auburn hair. It was rolled around her head, and, instead of making her look more respectful, she looked like a person with a basket on their head. She kept twitching, and giving involuntary jerks. Finally she spoke, with a very deep voice and a hint of a German accent.
"I vas a Ravenclaw." She managed to speak, and Rachel compared her to Professor Flitwick, to find she was not much bigger then the charms Professor.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and all talk was hushed. "I have still yet to say. We all know that Voldemort has risen again–" flinch from Ron, near spasm from the DADA teacher, "and I would like to tell you that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the country to be right now. And to third years and above, I would like to tell you that we will still go to Hogsmede, but proceed with only the upmost caution. That is all, off to bed."
Once they were upstairs, Hermione whispered, "What did Professor McGonagall talk to you about? I didn't want to ask at the table because it was probably personal."
"Well, all she talked to me about was getting a waiver from class for Yom Kippour."
Hermione looked blank. Again. Why this child could read about nearly everything and not learn about the Jewish religion was beyond Rachel.
"The time where you pray for forgiveness from your sins and to be inscribed in the book of life, and you fast. Remember?"
"Oh yeah." Hermione yawned and hunted around for her toothbrush. "I remember now."
Rachel began hanging up some clothes in the wardrobe so they wouldn't be wrinkled. All her work cloaks, her winter cloaks, her current dress robe, still wrapped up, and her old dress robe. It was a really beautiful thing, navy blue, covered with tiny little crystals that looked like stars. With her hair rolled up and crystals in that as well, she looked like the night itself. She placed that in the wardrobe, then came upon the thing she had been dreading.
The robe fell in soft silver folds. One could easily imagine that it was an invisibility cloak, though, when Rachel and all the other junior judges wore it, they were anything but invisible. They had worn these beautiful robes for the tasks and photo shoots. And then there were the badges. Rachel's hand went to her throat, and she pulled out the necklace. Of course, it didn't start out as a necklace, it was a proud shiny silver badge, that said "STAFF" in cursive handwriting, and let Rachel and the other Junior Ministry Judges go anywhere (almost) to research anything. They simply had to show the badge and they got to read the restricted section, go to important meetings and learn top secret things. The badge was a sign of power. Then Cedric died, and Rachel stung the badge on a shiny silver chain, put it on, and decided never to take it off. Everyone had their own way of remembering, and that was hers. Rachel finished putting everything away, brushed her teeth, and went to bed.