'Ah wis relieved! Ah wis grateful tae hae them back safely - and nothing else!!'
Minerva McGonagall's voice was clearly distinguishable from all the noise and general turmoil of the staff room. 'Angry, defensively, but not irrational,' Albus thought, rising from his seat and holding up his hands to open a controlled discussion rather than all the fuss Stochastica Vector had stirred up by insulting her colleague in front of all the other members of staff.
'Silence, please,' he said. 'Let us discuss this in a grown-up manner. Sit down, Stochastica! I know you are upset, but we need to establish a grown-up discussion.'
At length, everyone had calmed down enough for Albus to settle down again himself and grant them all a broad, cheerful smile.
'Well,' he said, 'all students have returned safely. Remus Lupin is still in the hospital wing, but for the usual reason. Nobody has been injured.
'How did they get out in the first place?' raged Doris Crockford, obviously unable to restrain herself even for one minute. 'How could this happen with all the security precautions in and around Hogsmeade?'
Albus sighed. 'Aberforth,' he said calmly, making not only Doris sit up in her chair and give him a most startled look.
'Your brother?'
'He is back,' said Albus calmly. 'Has returned from India last month to open his pub, just as he has threatened he would last summer.'
'But what... how...'
Even Minerva was listening now.
'Yer brother has met the children and given them permission... tae enter the Muggle world?' she said exasperatedly.
Albus gave her a thoughtful look and nodded.
'Ah knew it!' said Minerva with a dark look. 'We should have restricted the Permission Spell tae members of the Hogwarts staff. If ye had fer once listened tae me, Albus, we wouldnae have any prob-'
'We don't have any problems,' interrupted Albus calmly. 'Largely thanks to your excellent flying abilities, if I might add. You might want to consider taking up your Quiddi-'
'Albus, t'isnae the time nor the place...'
Albus chuckled and fell silent.
'So Aberforth is back, is he?' sighed Minerva. 'Still insisting on dressing up as Father Christmas? Or has India managed tae knock some sense into that childish mind of his?'
'He has changed his preferences,' said Albus quietly. 'But yes, he still likes to dress up. In a less exciting manner, though.'
'Nae asking,' growled Minerva. 'So... ye mean tae say that Aberforth has broken the spell we set up fer the safety of our students?'
'Not only that,' replied Albus thoughtfully. 'He has showed them the way - and made them believe they were returning to Hogwarts. Young Snape, at the very least, had no idea where he was heading to.'
'Ah - but he is lying, of course,' said Doris angrily. 'I would be saying the same if I was facing expulsion from Hogwarts.'
'No,' said Albus simply. 'He was not lying.'
Doris's puzzlement about the finality of this statement was clearly visible on her face. She looked around for support, but when none of her colleagues moved, and Minerva gave her a short, cynical grin (though she obviously tried to hide it) she turned to Albus again, careful not to snap.
'Explanation?'
'Albus has taken the liberty of making sure, Doris,' said Minerva with just a dash of triumph in her voice. 'He's an accomplished Legilimens, as ye might well have guessed.'
Doris stared at her, open-mouthed, then turned at Albus again.
'Oh,' she said. 'Oh, I see. That, of course, changes the matter. And... has your little... stroll... taught you anything else?'
Albus thought of what he had seen inside Severus Snape's head and shook his own. Minerva gave him a scrutinizing look ('Of course,' he thought, 'she would notice.') but chose not to speak.
'There is still the matter of Minerva undermining my authority,' snarled Stochastica Vector from her seat behind the flat table on the right hand side. 'And in front of all those sixth years, too.'
'It was YE who insisted on physically abusing yer student in the middle of that corridor,' said Minerva coldly. 'And in any case, ah...'
'ABUSING??' gasped Stochastica. 'Are you off your Scottish head? A slap isn't abuse! And in any case - this matter was NONE of your concern! Snape is in MY house! And I am entitled to set his punishment as I see fit!'
'Ye cannae gie hem a thrashing when ah let the others get away with a mere detention!' yelled Minerva. 'An' dinnae DARE claim thes matter isnae of ma concern! It wis ah whae found hem! It was ah whae separated them frem Remus Lupin jis' in time! He's ma student as much as yers! Ah'm NAE only Head of Greffindor, Stochi, but most of all a mither - an' a teacher whae cares fer ALL her students!'
Stochastica gasped a couple of time, trying to think of a suitable reply to this.
'Well... and Deputy Headmistress,' added Minerva as an afterthought, with a side-glance at Albus. 'Ah got every right tae undermine yer authority.'
Albus chuckled and gave her an appreciative smile.
'So, what do you suggest we should do with them?' came Doris Crockford's voice from the back of the room. 'Just let them off for sneaking out of the castle without telling a single soul, not leaving a message, not returning before nightfall...? They have flouted the rules', Minerva!'
'Aye, but only because of those BLASTED tunn-'
Albus raised his hand quickly.
'The tunnels stay,' he said sharply. 'They are a necessary means to teach our students responsibility...'
'...an' have them sneak into Hogsmeade at weekends,' snapped Minerva. 'In the company of their werewolf friends at full-moon!'
'We need to have an extra eye on Remus Lupin,' said Albus, nodding in agreement. 'That is true. But we cannot hold them responsible for that. None of them knew.'
'The werewolf knew!'
'Obviously,' said Minerva coldly, turning towards her younger colleague. 'But do ye honestly think he needs any more punishment than what he is currently going through, Stochi? If ye cared tae pay a visit tae the hospital wing, as ah've done this morning, ye'd find him muttering tae himself, crying every now and then, only now realizing what he has done - cid have done tae his friends last night.'
'But why did he leave the castle unsupervised?' insisted Doris. 'Why didn't he check what the moon was before he plunged himself into such a stupid and unnecessary adventure?'
'He forgot!' sighed Minerva, tired of all the fighting and having to defend her point. 'Fer Merlin's sake, Doris, he is a bairn like all the others. He simply forgot!'
Albus smiled once more. This was why he had chosen Minerva McGonagall over all the others to take the place as his Deputy. Her view of things was spot-on and she usually knew how to defend her point. Mind you - she tended to get very emotional about things, meaning, of course, that she slipped back into her mother tongue more often while shouting, but that was only understandable considering what she and her family were going through at the moment. Her mind would be on the pureblood matter most of the time these days. In any case, her efforts of keeping her cool were improving, which was all that counted.
'I believe we should end the discussion here,' he said therefore calmly without allowing the argument to arouse again. 'Minerva has decided that a mere detention will do and I am inclined to agree. The children have suffered enough. And we don't want them to ask questions, do we?'
Most of the teachers shook their heads. Some looked angry, but none questioned the headmaster's decision. Albus could see that most of their resentment would be gone as soon as everyday matters caught up with them. He also saw that he would have to do some serious thinking about the Headship of Slytherin, as Stochastica's determination to give up on the job had increased even further over her dispute with Minerva.
'That's settled then,' said Mandragora Sprout suddenly and a few heads turned. Wearily, but used to her being the one to break the silence after a heated conversation. 'Excellent. I am sure Irma will appreciate every help she can get.'
Stochastica gave her a puzzled look and uttered what most people were thinking. 'Pardon?'
'Oh,' said the small Herbology witch smilingly, 'Minerva's asked the five to assist her in the library this weekend. They are going to take stock, I think.'
'Wonderful,' said Albus cheerfully, feeling that this might be the best solution to the whole matter. 'They'll like that.'
Despite Doris' sinister expression and Stochastica's muttered remark on how detentions were definitely not supposed to be enjoyable the discussion was ended at this point.
Professor Beathan Binns had been teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past eighty-six years without any incidence worth noticing. He had always been deeply emerged in his research on the history of wizardkind, and, of course, in teaching younger generations to love and respect the past times. Times, that is, which he still visited whenever he got the chance of using one of the ministry's more carefully guarded time-turners. Those that were only used by historians and, sometimes, ministry officials, because you could travel very far with them. Much further back than just a couple of hours. You could skip years - centuries even. You could decide where you wanted to go, explore old ages, ancient customs, meet the long deceased.
In the early days, Beathan had often come across an opportunity of going back in time. Then, he had still been working with his partner and best friend Hamish McGillivray at the Oxwitch centre of history and archaeology, where they had been exploring the industrialization period and the early beginnings of modern Potion brewing. This being the time before their ways had parted, because McGillivray had been too stubborn to see that his colleague's way of approaching the subject was truly scientific, whereas his own could not described as anything but chaotic.
Time-travelling was the true challenge of his profession, Beathan sometimes thought. Historians were the only ones to actually see the old ages, dwell in and learn from them. Teaching was easier. Pleasant, but not remotely demanding. Hogwarts was a good place to spend one's time, and the library held excellent stocks of old and very rare books that one could dwell in for hours - days, sometimes - so Beathan had made it his task to help the librarian Irma Pince, one of the most agreeable and most attractive witches he thought he had ever met, with her yearly inventory. When this time came to pass, most of the other members of staff preferred to keep away from the slender, dark-haired half-blood witch, because, apparently (Beathan had had a long discussion with Mandragora Sprout about this), she tended to get very sharp if any books or other items had vanished from her care over the current year's time. Not that this occurred all too often, but still...
Thus, Beathan was a little surprised when, shortly before lunch on Friday, Irma suddenly confronted him with the fact that they would not be alone in working themselves through the endless piles of books the library held, but be joined by a couple of first- and second-years, who were serving last detentions before the examination week finally kept them from getting into trouble. He found himself standing in front of five bored-looking students, explaining to them, which shelves to empty first and where to place the lists and catalogues once they were filled. The Hogwarts library had a stock of roughly twelve thousand books, half of which had to be counted and catalogued. Beathan was very much looking forward to finding out what sorts of books were stored in this library that had lived through the past five centuries without much amendment. The boys, very obviously, were not.
They assembled around Irma's desk, trying to gain some understanding of her sorting system, and finally strolled off towards the shelves on the backside of the large library hall to start counting.
Beathan was delighted. Within seconds he was deeply engaged in a conversation with the librarian, flipping through catalogues of books as he did, trying to find out what sorts of books she liked to read and, most of all, which books she had not yet come across.
'The essence of a valuable piece of literature,' she said, writing down the registration numbers of the books he took from the nearest shelf, 'is that the content is worth mentioning and that the author has made a good job of it. Take Adalbert Waffling, for example. He knows his subject, certainly, but is it wise to have him write first formers' textbooks? I think not.'
'I always thought he had a rather complex way of thinking,' nodded Beathan pensively. 'But he isn't a bad writer. Not at all, I should say.'
'No, he isn't,' assured Irma quickly. 'There's people far worse than him. Do you happen to have read that recent but very awful study on intoxicating liquids that some people at the Ministry want as standard work for Advanced Potions? The one by Angus McGillivray?'
Beathan looked up. 'McGillivray? I wouldn't read anything written by a McGillivray if my life depended on it. Who is he? Related with my worthless ex-colleague, by any chance?'
Irma stared.
'You know, I think he might be,' she said pensively. 'You'd have to ask Minerva about it, though. Just to make sure.'
'I'd rather not,' mumbled Beathan. 'I have seen enough of the hospital wing to last for a while when the subject of her family came up last.'
'She isn't too keen on discussing that man, is she?' said Irma absently, now starting on her second shelf.
'She's not too keen on having people criticize him is more like it,' replied Beathan.
The afternoon passed quicker than expected. They had spent not four, but six hours surrounded by books and shelves, talking about authors and their works, students, and the way time tended to float by when one did not pay close attention to it. Irma had asked whether Beathan liked teaching as much as his scientific research and he had told her of his time at Oxwitch and of his countless time-travels. He also told her of various preparations he had made for future journeys, should the opportunity ever come to pass again. And he had told her how much he wished he could take her along on one of these journeys. But, alas! Public time-travelling had been outlawed ever since James II. (one of the greatest warlocks of his time) had made an effort of going back in time and preventing the great fire of 1666.
After a seemingly endless conversation, four little faces appeared at the end of one of the shelves, seemingly curious about what was going on, so they had been obliged to interrupt their conversation and Irma had officially ended the inventory for the time being. At that point, a fifth head had eventually turned up behind another shelf, and all students had left the library, not without being inspected closely for books hidden under their wide school robes, of course. But there was nothing to be found.
'If you like, you can have a look whether you want any of those books,' said Irma, nodding towards a box next to the large library doors, 'I would be most grateful, as it would save me the trouble of carrying them downstairs for disposal.'
They nodded and, to Beathan's great surprise, seized a book each. One, he could see, actually dealt with the topic of ancient wizardry and the Muggles' first efforts of putting a stop to it.
'Are you sure you have showed them the right box?' he said a little while later, still in awe that there was such thing as interested students around Hogwarts. 'Why would you get rid of the volume Mr. Longbottom took? A most interesting piece of work, I can assure you.'
Irma shrugged. 'It was old. I have obtained a much newer copy of it only last week. And it is Mr. Lupin, Beathan. Mr. Longbottom has graduated this year, in case you have not noticed.'
Her voice was friendly, but Beathan sensed a stern undertone in it. He opened his mouth to retort something, but at this moment, the library door swung open again and in walked Mandragora Sprout, followed by Conn Bablefish and Emeric Flitwick.
'What are you all doing here?' said Irma, her eyebrows raised to the edge of her forehead. 'You look as if you are planning an assassination.'
'Almost, Irma, almost,' grinned Mandragora as cheerfully as ever. 'We would like to ask the two of you whether you would like to join us in The Three Broomsticks tonight. We are going to celebrate Minerva's birthday, though she doesn't know yet. One of us - probably me again - is going to lure her down under false pretences. Knowing her, she has probably forgotten all about her special day again, so I doubt she'll get suspicious. And then we can have a little surprise party. Emeric and Albus agreed to do the first night watch, Sarah will sneak off to do the second with Doris, and Hestia and I will try and stay sober enough to do the last, unless any of you are planning to return earlier than the others. Are you going to join us?'
Beathan threw a languishing look at Irma who hesitated and finally nodded. 'Yes, of course.'
'Excellent,' beamed Professor Sprout, already on her way back outside. 'That leaves only Stochi and Clara to be invited. See you in Hogsmeade, then. Eleven o'clock sharp!'
She laughed and went off. The others followed her, vanishing as suddenly as they had arrived.