Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story (more's the pity--they could help pay my student loans) except for Eve Berger. Nor did I come up with the plot of PoA, and the scenes and dialogue included in that fab book, which I humbly reproduce at certain points herein. All that belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Raincoast, Scholastic...the list goes on!
A/N: As ever, thanks to the person who has the courage to tell me if something's crap: Joan (aka HyacinthMacaw), my beta.
I'd also like to thank the people that have reviewed my fic thus far: faerie, Sage, mione and Belle Starr. I really appreciate your comments!
I apologise for the lack of Snape in this chapter--Potions class is in Chapter 6!
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Chapter Five: The Headmaster's Summons
Eve appeared at the Gryffindor table the next morning, dressed in her school uniform (now accented in Gryffindor colours) and exceedingly nervous about the first day of classes. She could hardly eat anything for breakfast, though there was a dazzling array of food, all of which looked and smelled wonderful.
Across the room she could see a boy at the Slytherin table looking over at someone at her table and melodramatically pretending to faint. Glancing back at the Gryffindors, she saw the dark-haired boy that had come in late the night before roll his eyes as he sat down to breakfast further along the table.
You'd think that kid would at least give Harry Potter some respect, of all people, one of the other students sniffed.
Who's Harry Potter? Eve asked.
She immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say if she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Every fork and knife within hearing distance clattered to the table top as their owners turned to stare at her.
Everyone seemed to talk at once.
But... That's Harry Potter- one said, pointing at the dark-haired boy.
The one who defeated You-Know-Who-
Eve asked, but her question was lost in the exclamations.
You have to know who he is-
How else did you think he got that scar-
Everyone knows who Harry Potter is!
Everyone except me, Eve thought ruefully.
Thankfully, everyone's attention was distracted from her as the first-year timetables were passed down the table. Eve took hers and was looking at the list of classes for that day (Charms with the Ravenclaws, History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs, study period after lunch and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs again) when a large rushing noise above her made her look up in consternation.
Ah, mail's here, someone at the table said, and Eve saw what looked like hundreds of owls flying in, swooping down to the tables, dropping letters and packages. She had to wonder how any of the birds could see their owners through the cloud of beaks, talons and feathers, but each owl seemed to instinctively know where to go.
One dropped a heavy package by a boy a little further down the table, making everyone's orange juice slosh over the rim of their goblets. A girl with fluffy hair sitting next to him said, Did you forget something again, Neville?
Eve was startled to see a large tawny owl apparently flying directly towards her, and leaned back as it landed lightly on her empty plate, dropping a note in front of her. She looked at it curiously, but the owl had no tags to identify its owner. Certainly no one she knew could be sending her a letter? The owl hooted at her hopefully and she gave it a triangle of toast, which it grabbed in its beak before flying off again.
Breaking the seal on the single sheet of paper, she unfolded her letter, tilting it away from her table-mates. Inside, in rather loopy handwriting, was written:
Miss Berger;
I would like to meet with you some time today to discuss certain provisions made on your behalf. I believe you have a free period after lunch? Just take the main stairwell up to the second floor, and then walk down the right hand corridor until you get to the stone gargoyle. The password is Mint Humbug'.
Prof. A. Dumbledore,
Headmaster.
Eve gulped. Despite the cheery tone in his voice at dinner the night before, she couldn't help but feel a little intimidated at the thought of meeting the Headmaster. The ones she'd had in school had been rather tyrannical; thank goodness she'd never been in any real trouble. Not that she'd never wanted to do something against school rules that wouldn't hurt anyone else; she just didn't want to suffer the punishment.
The thought of meeting with Professor Dumbledore disappeared from her mind, however, once class began. Just getting there was an odyssey in itself. There were so many floors, stairs and corridors in Hogwarts that she had to wonder if she'd ever be able to find her way around. She didn't get to a single class on time, though she was comforted by the fact that no one else in her class did either.
Then the classes themselves were rather trying. Even sitting down, Eve was still taller than any other student in the class, and she couldn't help but notice the teachers speaking in her direction at times when they lectured, as though they had some expectation that she should know what they were talking about. She scribbled down everything they said, not quite having the hang of using a quill just yet, though she had practised.
Charms looked to be rather interesting, though she had to wonder how she would ever remember all those commands and the accompanying movements. It was a little like learning a foreign language at times, and even when she thought she had the movements down, the spells still failed her half the time. Still, it looked like the other students were doing about as well as she was.
History of Magic was a little better. Despite the fact that Professor Binns was interesting as a person because he was the only deceased member of the staff, his form of lecturing was boring to the point of sleep-inducing, and Eve found herself struggling to pay attention. Parts of the class weren't that bad, however. The history of magic seemed to run parallel to Muggle history, passing through some of the same events, though with a completely different perspective. Though she still didn't know anything about the magic side of history, her previous knowledge of the Muggle side meant that she wasn't completely lost in Binns' rambling.
With the morning over and her stomach threatening to go off on its own and find food if she didn't feed it, Eve eagerly tucked into lunch, wolfing down sandwiches and soup. Once everyone was finished, her fellow Gryffindors marched off to the library, while Eve set off to find Professor Dumbledore's office.
It was nearly twenty minutes before she finally found the stone gargoyle along an empty, dark corridor. Mint humbug, she said, and the gargoyle jumped to one side, the wall behind opening to reveal a spiral staircase whose treads revolved slowly upwards. Eve stepped onto one somewhat nervously, and held tightly on to the rail as the staircase took her ever higher. A couple minutes passed, and she was beginning to become a little light headed by the time a large oak door appeared at the top of the staircase. She stepped off the stairs, pausing for a moment in front of the door, then lifted the heavy knocker in the shape of a griffon. Taking a deep breath, Eve knocked firmly on the door, and entered as soon as she heard the answering call of Come in!
As she walked in, she took a quick look around the room. The walls were covered in portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, shelves cluttered with a number of odd, unknown objects, and lit by sunlight streaming through large, leaded-glass windows. Professor Dumbledore stood behind the desk, and it struck her how tall he was up close.
Come in, and take a seat. How was your first morning? he asked, gesturing to one of two large, winged armchairs placed across from the desk.
Eve sat a little stiffly, her nerves preventing her from getting too comfortable. All right. You said there were some things that you wanted to discuss with me?
Yes. As you can probably imagine, having someone of your age in the first year at Hogwarts has necessitated some changes to the rules, at least in your case. As you already know, you have been given your own room, as no doubt it would be rather awkward for you to room with the other first-year girls. Also, it seems rather unfair to force a young woman used to being independent to adhere to some of the same rules as the younger students. First, you have been given an extension on your curfew, though I have to ask that you to be in Gryffindor tower by eleven o'clock at night.
Second, usually one must be in their third year before you are allowed to visit the nearby village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Again, we are loosening this rule for you, and you are also permitted to go to Hogsmeade at non-scheduled times, as long as you check with Professor McGonagall first, and give a time you can be expected back.
Third, as you have been through university and are older than the other students, the teachers and I have decided on a slightly modified course of study for you. As you are used to a heavier workload, we have decided that you should be given extra tutoring time in each class, so that you can complete your course of study here in a shorter amount of time than the customary seven years; say, four or five years instead. You can arrange your tutorials with your teachers individually, as your schedule and theirs permits.
"Other than these three, I have to say that the same rules apply to you as to the other students, though if you think a rule is unfair considering your age, please come and discuss it with me. Does that sound suitable to you?
Eve's head was swimming with all the information that Dumbledore had given her, but she couldn't think of anything in particular that she should bring up, except her usual doubts. She didn't want to mention those, however. They would probably sound whiny and trivial to Dumbledore.
That sounds fine, she said, trying to keep her doubts from showing on her face.
Dumbledore's kind smile broadened. Good. And I would like to add that if ever you have any problems, or anything you would like to talk about, please come see me. I may not be able to talk to you at that very moment, but I can always make time for a student. Now I believe the rest of your class is in the library?
Eve took that as a cue that the interview was over, and thanked Dumbledore before leaving and finding her way to the library.
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The next few days passed in much the same fashion, her classes interesting but a little frightening and mortifying at the same time. Some of the teachers occasionally appeared to be wondering how a girl her age could know so little about magic, and how she could be picking it up so slowly. Eve had to wonder the same things. She had always hated failure in herself and was both disheartened and frustrated when things wouldn't work for her, or she couldn't answer a question asked of her. Certainly she was doing about as well as any of her fellow first-year students, but the fact that she was older than they were, and had had more of a conventional education than they seemed to raise the expectations slightly. Sometimes she had to look at herself and wonder, how could a university graduate be such a dunce?
And of all her classes, it was Wednesday Potions with the Slytherins that really drove that feeling home.