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Chapter Five: The Stow-Away
"Go on then, let's have a look!"
Harry, Hermione and Ron all compared their class schedules after
Professor McGonagall handed them out over breakfast.
"Damn," Ron muttered, "of course we'd have Potions with the Slytherins.
Why can't they put us with the Ravenclaws. . ."
"Well, we have History of Magic with them, that's why," Hermione answered
promptly.
Ron rolled his eyes. "It was a
rhetorical question, Herm."
"Oh, and look! Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is someone
named . . ." she held the paper closely to her face, "Professor Simon Gray." She
blinked. "He wasn't at the fest last night, was he?"
"No. . ." Ron shook his head as he shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into his
mouth. "Too bad it's not another witch! I could get used to this!"
Hermione made another groan of disgust, and they quickly finished their
breakfast before making a break for their first class of the day-- which just so
happened to be potions.
They joined the Slytherins in the familiar dungeon, neither house so much
as making eye contact with the other. Usually the complete cold shoulder came
when the battle for the House Cup was at its highest, but here on the first day
of classes, the two houses had already reached that breaking point.
Draco Malfoy, sitting in between his two oaf-like friends Crabbe and
Goyle, was the only one giving the Gryffindors any type of attention. And it was
that same, curious, twisted smile-- the smile that Harry had wanted to slap off
his face for four long years.
Professor Warwick entered the room at that time and immediately, every
boy in the chamber snapped to attention, sitting perfectly straight. She
walked-- no-- she
flowed to the front of the classroom, her robes
billowing behind her with the same airiness as her platinum hair. She turned to
face the students and folded her arms, absolutely silent, staring down each and
every one of them.
It was an uneasy silence and it seemed like it was going to last forever.
And then, she finally opened her mouth to speak. "Before any of you ask--
no. I am not part Veela."
She flashed a winning smile as the boys laughed happily at her joke.
Hermione spun around to face Ron and mouthed triumphantly, 'five sickles!'
"I am, however, your Potions master for the time being and shall try my
best to be every bit as efficient as your dear Professor Snape."
Ron coughed loudly, gaining a snigger from several other Gryffindors.
Professor Warwick raised a brow. "Perhaps we should first learn a potion
to cure nasty coughs, should we Mr. . ." she glanced down at her roll sheet,
"Mr. Ronald Weasley, is it?"
The Slytherins liked this, and let out a series of muffled laughs.
Professor Warwick turned to them immediately, her eyes wide. "And after
that, we'll brew a remedy for those wretched giggles. You'd like that wouldn't
you, er . . ." her eyes flickered down to her roll sheet. "Mr. Draco Malfoy,
correct?"
Draco stared at her. She smiled once again. "
Malfoy? You aren't
Lucius' son, are you?"
Draco stiffened.
"I went to Hogwarts with him. Let him know that Ariah says hello, will
you?"
Shutting up Draco Malfoy was all that was needed to gain the approval of
any Gryffindor, even at the expense of one of their own.
Professor Warwick was a pleasant tempered witch, but anyone thinking they
could take advantage of her disposition soon found out that she had absolutely
no problem with handing out both scathing sermons and detention notices.
Hermione thought she was absolutely brilliant.
After lunch, the three trudged up the staircase to their Defense Against
the Dark Arts class with the Ravenclaws and took their seats. Hermione was going
about the business of arranging her parchment and ink so as not to miss a beat
of the professor said.
Now, Harry was a bit nervous about just who his new Dark Arts Professor
would be. In the four years he'd attended Hogwarts, only one of them turned out
to be someone he could trust-and even he turned out to be a werewolf! There was
Professor Quirrel in his first year, whom Harry discovered to be nurturing
Voldemort back to power. There was Gilderoy Lockhart in his second year ---
enough said right there. His third year he had Professor Remus Lupin who was a
fantastic teacher and was nearly able to capture Lord Voldemort's servant Peter
Pettigrew--but Snape, who'd loathed Remus since adolescence, saw to it that the
school board found out about Remus being a werewolf and he of course resigned.
And then, last year, there was 'Mad-Eye Moody'--who really wasn't Moody at all!
A Death Eater named Barty Crouch had been taking a potion to appear to be the
Professor so that he could help set up a plan that would both bring Voldemort
back to power and bring Harry back to Voldemort--a plan that he succeeded in.
So needless to say, Harry was on pins and needles as the classroom waited
for their new Professor to arrive. Given his past history, Harry wouldn't have
been surprised if the new Professor was Lord Voldemort himself!
Harry shuddered at the very idea just as the door to the chamber flew
open.
A tall and slender man, dressed most elegantly in rich, gorgeous black
robes strode past them to the front of the class. His brown hair was cut rather
short and neat-every hair in its proper place. He wore large silver spectacles,
that were perhaps a bit too large for his face, for they magnified his eyes much
the way Professor Trelawney's did hers. A thin pencil line of a moustache was
the finishing touch on this striking face. . .
And Harry, staring at him from his seat up in the front, had the gnawing
feeling that he knew him from somewhere.
"Good morning class!" Came a voice, considerably higher than Harry would
have imagined from such a tall man.
He looked visibly nervous and fumbled with some papers he'd placed on his
desk.
"My name is Professor Gray and I should like to welcome all of you to
your fifth year! You made it!" He swallowed and then continued, trying very hard
to sound as composed and collected as possible. "I attended Hogwarts as well, of
course. A Gryffindor, actually."
Happy murmurs came from the Gryffindors.
"And I must tell you, that out of all seven years, my fifth year was my
favorite. And I think it was actually mostly due to this class! There's so much
to learn this year-and several, erm,
surprises along the way." He cleared
his throat. "A--and I also have been educated on the rumors that many here feel
this position to be. . . cursed?"
More murmurs from the students.
"Well, I must admit, the past several years doesn't give one much
confidence. But. . . I'm willing to take my chances."
Harry was staring Professor Gray intensely. . . yes, there was most
definitely something about him that seemed
familiar to him. Oh,
well, perhaps it had just been in casual passing. . .
Professor Gray opened his textbooks, "Class, if you please, open to the
index-right there on the first page, yes. There are thirty four chapters in this
book-all of which are very important of course, even though to be quite honest,
well, most of you are never really going to come across the Gauraneese Mauler
Bat that Chapter Twenty-Six focuses on unless you find yourself alone in a dark
cave in the middle of night in the Gaura Valley in Transylvania-and if you ever
are, well, of course it would be your own silly fault in the first place for
even
being there."
The class laughed in agreement.
"No, we have more important things to deal with than fierce creatures
whom none of us will ever really come across. Much more. . .
pertinent
things to deal with. . ."
Everyone leaned forward.
"Let me ask a personal question and, please, anyone feel free to answer.
When you think of the Dark Arts, what is it that scares you the most?"
Silence.
"Oh come now, over the past four years you've learned much about the
arts. What is it that frightens you the most?"
A memory suddenly whipped into Harry's mind of Voldemort's red eyes, that
high-pitched laugh, his cold and bony finger upon his cheek. . .
To everyone's surprise, it wasn't Hermione that raised her hand first.
"Yes- er. . . Mr. Longbottom, correct?"
Everyone turned to face Neville. His face was ghostly pale. "Well. . .
death."
Professor Gray's expression didn't change. "Death," he repeated.
"Unfortunately, Mr. Longbottom is quite correct in his fear. Dark Wizards differ
from yourselves and myself in many ways-the most obvious of which is their utter
disregard for life both wizard and muggle. Killing is their most common weapon,
this is true. But someone else answer me this: does this mean that you should
spend your lives locked up in a dungeon, scared to step outside?"
Harry felt himself raising his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Potter--it
is Mr. Potter, isn't it?" Harry nodded.
"Well. . . no, it shouldn't." He remembered what Remus had said only two weeks
ago. "Because being afraid just means that you understand what's ahead of you.
And courage doesn't mean that you're not afraid, it just means that you're ready
to face it."
There was a terrific smile that flashed across Professor Gray's face, and
then he quickly brushed it off.
"
Precisely, Mr. Potter. I know that . . . given recent events. .
.there is a lot of fear gripping the magical community. But this, in a nutshell,
is why we're here in this class. So that we can understand what may be ahead of
us and therefore be able to face it and deal with it."
Professor Gray was most definitely passionate about his subject and spoke
every word as though it sincerely meant the students' very lives. "So, forgive
me for I'll be skipping several of these chapters--oh yes, we'll cover them--but
I just want this year to be focused on the more important things."
The class dismissed not too long afterwards, everyone leaving in a sort
of daze.
"Well," Ron breathed, "I, for one, am now completely
depressed.
Made it sound like the end of the world was coming."
"He did not, Ron," Hermione protested. "He was really, rather brilliant.
Don't you think so Harry?"
Harry was in a sullen mood after the class, but would have hardly called
it depressing. "It was sobering, that's for sure."
"Absolutely," said Hermione. "Professor Gray is wonderful-I think we're
going to learn an awful lot with him this year."
"Oh Herm, you just fancy him, that's all."
"What ever would give you that idea!" There was a flush to her cheeks.
"Because that is exactly what I said about Professor Warwick after we
left
her class."
**
Hermione had been devastated over her not being selected as a prefect. It
wasn't the
exact feeling, but a bit similar to how Harry had felt about
not being named the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Oliver Wood had
graduated last year, which meant that a new Captain had to be appointed. Now,
Harry wasn't the sort of person to pat himself on the back, but if there was one
thing he was certainly proud of, it was the fact that he was a damn good
Quidditch player. He was of course,
happy for their new captain Angelina
Johnson, but disappointed nonetheless.
Angelina, as it turned out, was just as uncomfortable over the
assignment. The first morning of practice, the week after school began, she told
Harry so, privately.
"You know that I really think it should have been you."
"Angelina, you're the best Chaser that we--"
"And you're the best Seeker in the entire school! It really should have
been-"
"Look, what's done is done. You're going to be
great as Captain! I
know it!"
Angelina opened her mouth to protest again, but Harry would have none of
it. "Come
on. We're a
team. And, most importantly . . ." he
paused, smiling at Angelina. "We're going to beat
Slytherin again!"
Angelina laughed, and the two walked off on the playing field. Fred,
George and Katie Bell were waiting for them, shouted the Gryffindor cheer and
then sped off up into the air.
Harry's Firebolt hadn't missed a beat -- three months away from it, and
it was still just as deft and skillful as ever. Now, Harry thought as he rose
and dove through the air.
Now I'm really home.
Harry walked towards the great hall, more than ready for lunch, his heart
still racing from his ride on his Firebolt.
Two arms grabbed hold of him and pulled him back behind a pillar-- Ron
and Hermione both were wide eyed.
"We," said Hermione, "have a problem."
Harry's stomach churned. "Exactly what do you mean by 'problem'?
Ron grimaced. "As in something that could get us all expelled if we don't
fix it."
Harry's jaw dropped. "What is it?"
Ron stared at Hermione, looking as though he was ready to burst from
anger. Hermione took a breath,
"Right. This morning before breakfast I was getting dressed and I went to
pull my shoes out from my closet when I
heard something. Something hidden
in amongst my clothes. So I looked through all my clothes and . . . and . . ."
"SOPHIE!" Ron blurted, coming unglued, "SOPHIE BANBURY was hiding in her
closet!"
Harry gulped. "Impossible..."
"Apparently not!"
Hermione looked frantic. "So I pulled her out and demanded an
explanation. She was just standing there clutching her jumper for dear life,
terrified, stammering--"
"
What did she say!" Harry roared.
"Said she was sorry-- oh so sorry. Said that she couldn't help herself--
that Harry and her mother and I were yakking away at the gate and the urge just
overcame her-- she opened up my trunk and slipped right in--"
"WHAT" Harry cried-- he could hardly believe his ears! "Oh my-- if
Dumbledore-- no, if
McGonagall knew about this-- oh
Hermione!"
"I didn't do anything!
Sophie did!"
"Still, you do look like a Muggle Smuggler, Herm." There was more
amusement in Ron's voice than anger when he said this-- and Hermione was not
very pleased.
"Oh just
shut up! The both of you! You've got to help me get her
out of here!"
"How can we possibly get a muggle out of Hogwarts when it's hard enough
as it is to even get one in!"
Harry groaned. "Okay-- where is she now?"
"Well, she's in my closet of course! She's got to keep hidden. . ."
"Well, Ron and I will come right up and talk to her."
"Great," Ron muttered. "The bloody
girls' dormitory. I can see it
already: McGonagall catches us in the girls dormitory with a muggle."
"Ah, but we won't get caught!" Harry smiled at Hermione. "It's okay,
Herm. We'll figure this out. Ron? Let's go and get my cloak-- Herm, you wait for
us at the door to your dorms."
All three turned and made a dash for Gryffindor.
"But -- what -- about -- lunch," Ron panted as they blitzed up the
staircase.
"We have to act
now, while everyone is out of their rooms."
Harry yelled the password "magnus sungam" at the Fat Lady. He threw open
his trunk, pulled out his fathers' invisibility cloak and pulled it over himself
and Ron, then made a break for the girls' dorms.
"Can't bloody believe this," Ron was saying as they ran. "What the hell
was she
thinking!"
"Obviously she
wasn't thinking." Harry was still in disbelief. "I
mean. . . she's a
muggle! What could she possibly have thought--"
"
Keep it down!" Hermione scolded. She was standing at the door,
waiting, and pulled it open. "I could hear you all the way upstairs!"
Still hidden beneath the cloak, they followed Hermione towards her dorm.
"Hey," Ron said, "it looks just like ours!"
"Well of course it does! What did you think it looked like?"
"I dunno-- more. . . .
girly. Lots of pink and daisies and all
that--"
"
Really, Ron." Hermione knocked on the closet door. "Sophie? You
all right?"
There was a squeak in reply and Hermione pulled open the doors.
Sophie looked a wreck: her hair was sticking up in all places, much the
way Harry's did, her clothes wrinkled, her eyes red with fatigue.
"Come on out, Sophie," Hermione coaxed. She did so, very cautiously.
Ron threw the cloak off him and lay right into Sophie. She yelped, most
likely never having seen an invisibility cloak, and took a step back as Ron
shouted at her.
"
Are you flipping mental? What were you bloody thinking? Do you know
how much trouble we could get into for this? Do you know how much trouble
Hogwarts could get into with this? My Dad works for the Ministry of Magic, and
if they find out that Hogwarts has allowed a Muggle onto the property, who knows
what they'll do!"
Sophie had tears in her eyes. Harry's heart softened and, still clutching
the cloak close around him, he stepped forward.
"Sophie, calm down. It'll be all right."
She yelped again, her eyes still wide in horror. Harry remembered what he
must have looked like to a muggle-- his body half invisible.
"Oh." He threw the cloak off and Sophie relaxed. "It's just . . . you can
understand why we're upset, right?"
She nodded.
"And your
parents, Sophie," he continued. "Roger and Imelda must
be beside themselves.
Why did you do it?"
"B-because I. . . I. . ." the tears came again. "I wanted to
be
like you! All of you! I spent my whole life wanting to go to Hogwarts, and
be as great a witch as my Mum was. I know. . . I know I'm a disappointment to
her . . ."
Harry had to smile. "That's ridiculous and you know it. You're not a
disappointment-- your parents love you!"
Hermione nodded. "Exactly."
"But I'm a--"
"Your Dad is a muggle as well and I'm sure that
he doesn't think
it's so very terrible. My parents don't!"
"Your parents are both muggles?"
"Yes!" Said Hermione brightly.
Sophie burst into tears. "You mean to say that
you're a witch and
both your parents are muggles, while I'm --"
"Oh this is just silly," Ron snapped. "Listen Sophie, I'm sorry that
you're unhappy. I really am. But you can't stay here! We're going to have to get
you home." He took a breath. "You lot? We're gonna have to tell Dumbledore."
"No!" Sophie shrieked, "
Please let me stay!
Don't tell Mr.
Dumbledore! Oh, my mother would be in such trouble!"
"As much as we'd
like for you to stay," said Harry, "we
can't. If we did, all of us: you me, Ron and Hermione, would all be out
of school.
"It's not fair to any of us," added Hermione.
Sophie was bawling. . . but she understood. After a moment she was
reduced to shrivels every now and then.
"Right. Of course you're right. I'm . . . sorry. I didn't want to put
anyone in danger, and certainly I didn't want to risk your being expelled. I
just lost my head. I'm sorry."
"Well, thank heavens for that."
Harry whipped around to see none other than Professor McGonagall in the
dormitory, her arms folded, leering over her glasses.
Everyone gulped.
McGonagall eyed each one of them and then said, "This way, please."
The four walked out of the girls' dormitory in silence, Sophie looking
particularly terrified. Harry's heart went out to her: if McGonagall could scare
him out of his wits, how much more so to a muggle!
She led them wordlessly, up a winding staircase-- wonder evident in
Sophie's face as they passed the portraits. (One bade her 'good day' which made
her collide into Ron). Albus Dumbledore's office was a place that Harry and Ron
had seen much more of than any other student at the school Dumbledore was
sitting at his desk, writing away, and he looked up and upon seeing them, gained
that familiar twinkle in his eyes.
"My, my, Minerva! This sets a record I believe for Mr. Potter and Mr.
Weasley! The second day of school! It's usually a week before I see you-- and
this is with Severus gone!" He chuckled happily as he stood up.
Sophie, who stood next to Harry, subconsciously grabbed Harry's arm when
she got a good look at Albus. Harry had to admit that to a muggle, seeing
Dumbledore with his long, brilliant white hair and beard, and his purple robes--
it would be a bit intimidating.
"And this must be our little stow-away," he said pleasantly.
"How did you
know?" Harry breathed-- and then quickly realized
what a stupid question that was. Albus patted the head of a barn owl that looked
somewhat familiar. It was Mrs. Banbury's owl, to be sure. Albus picked up a
letter, cleared his throat and read:
To Albus Dumbledore
Hogwarts Headmaster
Dear Sir:
I am writing to you in a state of panic. Sophie, my only
daughter and a muggle has disappeared and I have good reason to believe that she
is at this very moment on your campus . This at least gives me some peace of
mind, knowing she is of course safe in your institution. Please write to me the
minute you receive this owl and let me know if Sophie is indeed there and when I
may come to take her home.
Yours most sincerely,
Imelda Banbury,
Ministry of Magic - Special
Investigations.
Sophie kept her gaze at the floor, not able to make eye contact with
anyone.
"However. . . this has put us in a most awkward position." Professor
Dumbledore took his seat once more, folded his hands, and peered overtop his
spectacles. "I take it that Miss Banbury hid herself in one of our Hogwarts
school trunks, am I correct?" "Yes. Mine," said Hermione. "That is a very
lengthy train ride to be cooped up inside a trunk. Ten hours, I believe the
train ride is. Especially tedious is it inside a Hogwarts trunks which,
incidentally, are all air-tight. " Harry's heart skipped a beat.
What had
Dumbledore just said?
"That's right, Miss Banbury. Those trunks are all specifically designed
to be completely air-tight. There is no possible way that any non-magical living
being could survive more than twenty minutes inside one of them. And you
survived ten hours."
Sophie had lifter her gaze up to meet Dumbledore- the shadows of smile
beginning to appear.
"This being the case only leaves one conclusion to draw: that Miss
Banbury does possess some degree of magical potential."
"So she's
not a squib then?" asked Ron.
Professor Dumbledore laughed softly. "She never was a squib to begin
with, Mr. Weasley. You see, a squib is someone who comes from an all wizarding
family, and yet has no magical powers. A muggle is classified as someone who has
at least *one* parent who is a muggle, and has no magical powers. Sophie's
father is a muggle, therefore her lack of magical powers classified her as a
'muggle' as well. When you look at it that way, it's just a simple matter of
genetics. However, in Miss Banbury's case, she is neither a muggle nor a squib."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "No, she is a witch." He
laughed. "Although a very, very late-bloomer, I should add!"
Sophie was positively beaming! Harry, Ron and Hermione were smiling as
well, delighted with the news!
Dumbledore continued. "Now, it being the case that Miss Banbury is now
too old to be admitted as a student here, with her blessing, I should like to
send back home where she will participate in a correspondence class. I am
certain that your mother will be delighted to tutor you, as will Mr. Potter
here, whenever he is home."
Harry knew that he was being volunteered, but knew better than to ever
appear ungrateful for anything Dumbledore said or provided. He merely kept
quiet. "Good," said Dumbledore. "I shall write your mother immediately, and if
all goes according to plan, you will be on your way home by tomorrow morning."
Sophie broke out into a smile, her eyes still red from all her tears. She
nearly choked out her words, too overcome with emotion. "Sir, I cannot thank you
enough . . ."
Dumbledore pat her on her head, "then best not try to, eh?" he turned to
Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, I trust you'll see to Miss Banbury's sleeping
arrangements for tonight?"
McGonagall nodded. "I was thinking perhaps the fifth floor--"
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore, "Wonderful idea, Minerva!"
"She can't stay with us in the girls dormitory-- just for tonight?"
Hermione almost looked mournful.
"No room, Miss Granger. And. . . well, it's best we put her up in her own
chamber. And now Sophie, your friends will be needing to return to their
classes. . ." Dumbledore stood up and walked slowly towards the door, Harry and
the rest walking with him.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, "won't we be seeing her before she
leaves?"
"Most unlikely, Miss Granger. Mrs. Banbury will probably arrive for her
just as you're in the middle of your defense against the dark arts class. . .
which reminds me. . . Potter, may I have a word? Minerva, please take Miss
Banbury to her quarters directly and see that she's comfortable, Mr. Weasley and
Miss Granger, I expect Hagrid is wondering where you are right about now."
They bade their farewells to Sophie, Hermione looking upon her with an
especially maternal glint in her eye (Harry reckoned that Hermione now viewed
Sophie as a disciple of hers). Sophie followed Professor McGonagall, looking
back behind her with a weak smile, visibly nervous about being alone with the
imposing Professor McGonagall, and Hermione and Ron filed past Harry, looking
every bit as curious as Harry felt.
Dumbledore closed the door once everyone had left and Harry looked up
anxiously.
What have I done this time? Dumbledore was beaming at him from
overtop his lunar spectacles. "So you think you'll enjoy your classes this year,
do you?"
Harry nodded cautiously. "I hope so, Sir."
"Your new potions master is only temporary. You see, I've placed Snape on
an. . . assignment for me. Just in case you were worried as to his whereabouts--
I realize that last you saw him he left quite abruptly. But hopefully he won't
be too much longer--"
Harry did all he could to keep from yelling '
tell him there's no
hurry. . .'
"--And your defense against the dark arts professor. . ."
"Oh, yes!" Harry piped up immediately. "We all think he's brilliant!"
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. Quite . . ." he placed a hand on Harry's
shoulder. "You know. . . it's a funny thing about him. I could just
swear
that he reminds me of someone."
"Yes! That's exactly what I thought too!"
Dumbledore was nodding, thoughtfully. "Yes. . . actually, I rather think
that he looks as though he could be related to your Godfather, Harry."
"Sirius?" Harry repeated blankly.
"Yes, Sirius. The same
face , you know? As a matter of fact. . .
if I didn't know any better, I'd say that it is Sirius. But that's if I didn't
know any better."
"But you
do know better, right Sir?"
Dumbledore said nothing. His smile, however, broadened.
"
Right, Sir?"
He kept his smile. "It's getting late, Harry. I've kept you from class
long enough."
** *
