Disclaimers: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling and her assorted publishers, not to me. Antonia Dumarest is mine, as are the assorted Snape and Dumarest relatives, and may be used with permission; e-mail me.
Spoilers: All five HP novels.
MORE ARRIVALS: ANOTHER HAND ON THE LADLE (Arrivals & Meetings IX)
(Thursday, 11 July 1996, morning)
I. Albus and Tish
On a fine July morning, Albus Dumbledore was going through his never-ending pile of correspondence. Most of it was Hogwarts business: inquiries, supply lists, and such. A substantial part was official correspondence from the Ministry or the International. Another large chunk was fan mail; being whom and what he was tended to attract Witches of all ages (and a few Wizards), regardless of his own respectable tally of years. Yet another chunk was letters begging for advice from "the greatest Wizard in the World"—many of those asking about problems more suited to the attention of the local Healers. And, once in a while, he received a letter from a friend…
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
My dear Albus:
It has been a fair number of years since we last heard from each other, and many more since we last saw each other; the world has changed in many ways, and yet some things are constant. I find myself back in the British Isles now, after many years in France and the United States. I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience, either there at Hogwarts or nearby. Or, if you would like to visit my current home, you may Floo or Apparate here for perhaps a nice tea; your owl will find me with your reply. I wish to discuss a number of matters possibly of interest to both of us. If you do come, do feel free to bring a tin of lemon drops; the ones in America just aren't the same.
Sincerely and fondly yours,
Tish
(Antonia L. Dumarest)P. S.: If by chance you do not remember me, or need a proof of my identity, my dear late husband personally sold you the Dragons' Blood you used in your researches of its twelve uses.
Dumbledore sat back with a delighted smile. He had not seen his old friend in many years indeed—ever since some decades before she and her husband, Robert Dumarest, left France in the shadow of the rise of both the Dark Wizard Grindelwald and the Muggle Hitler about the same time. The Dumarest family was the owner of one of the largest Wizarding Apothecaries in the world; it was noted for not only its vast selection, but also its stern refusal to takes sides in Pureblood politics or to favor Dark Wizard would-be dictators. Rather than either being exterminated or co-opted by Grindelwald, they simply left for the United States, where that Dark Wizard had not yet gotten a foothold—and never did, thanks to Dumbledore himself making an end of him in 1945. They had exchanged a few letters since then, but none in the last twenty or so at least, that last being the notice of the demise of Robert Dumarest; he had been some years older than she, and Tish was near Dumbledore's own age. As this was during the first Voldemort War, Dumbledore had been unable to attend the funeral, and had lost touch with her family. Dumarest and most of the children, grandchildren and so forth had attended either Beauxbatons or one of the American schools, but Tish herself had attended Hogwarts, as did most of the rest of her birth family; she had been in Ravenclaw, not far behind Dumbledore himself. She had been noted for a great many contributions in the field of Potions, especially medicinal Potions; some of her research had led to improvements in many standard medicines. Marrying the then-head of the Dumarest Apothecarists was a natural match. These days, not much was heard from her; some of their descendants appeared to be carrying on the Potions research end while the rest ran the company.
An idea struck Dumbledore—this was the answer to something he needed, if she was willing and able. In any case, he dearly wanted to see her again. There were not so many living contemporaries of his that they could afford to miss each other; still, a little caution was called for, in these uncertain times. He took up quill and parchment and wrote.
Antonia L. Dumarest
Dear Tish—
I would be more than delighted to take tea with you! I agree we have much to discuss, and many years of gossip to catch up on. Shall we say today at four? If you would be kind enough to Floo or Apparate to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, I will bring the requested lemon drops.
Sincerely and fondly yours,
Albus, etc.
That Thursday afternoon, he went to the Three Broomsticks, and waited by the fireplace. A few minutes later, a tall, slender and quite elderly Witch came through, who still had a mature beauty about her and much dignity—which said dignity broke down when after formally shaking hands, she grinned and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Albus! You're looking much better than I thought you were! The papers would have you badly injured in your confrontation last month!" Madam Dumarest smiled at her old friend, seeing the full-force twinkle in his eye, the bloom of health in his cheek, and the snow-white hair and beard that was at least a foot longer than the last time she'd seen him. No trace remained of its youthful auburn.
"Nonsense, my dear; the reporters were not there, so how could they know who was or was not injured?" Dumbledore returned an answering smile. "I was barely winded and had a bruise or two—that's all; a good night's sleep fixed me right up. What are you reading these days? Even the Daily Prophet never got that bad; they were mainly focusing on my mental state last year." His smile dimmed a little. "You may have been thinking of either the children and Aurors, some of whom were hurt, or Minerva at Hogwarts a few days previously; she was hit with four Stunners at once, trying to stave off the undeserved Ministry sacking of my Care of Magical Creatures Professor."
"I heard rumors about that," Madam Dumarest replied more seriously, as he led her to a private room where the tea things were set out. "Will she be all right? I remember how you used to laud her Transfiguration skills when she was your student."
"Yes, she is still on light duty, but will be fully recovered by the beginning of term." Dumbledore poured the tea, and took two of the excellent biscuits. "Now, my dear, where did you get that accent? There is an American overlay that you didn't have before that I'm not familiar with."
"Georgia, dear; that's where the family moved to live. We work in Wizarding New York, as that's where the commerce is centered, but the city isn't a good place to live in, even in the Magical neighborhoods. Upstate New York tends to be as bad as Scotland in the winter. Robert and I bought a fine mansion—what they call 'antebellum Plantation style'—and raised children, grandchildren and Potions plants there."
The two old friends exchanged where-are-they-now stories for some time, until she said, "Albus, I still haven't gotten to the point yet, and I should."
"My dear Tish," Dumbledore replied gallantly, "as far as I am concerned just getting together was enough of a point to make this visit. There are not so many of us of our age group any more to share some of these memories. But I sense something more serious; what is on your mind?"
She put down her cup. "Albus, I want to join your Order of the Phoenix."
That surprised Dumbledore; her family had managed to avoid both the Grindelwald conflict and the first Voldemort war by simply having nothing to do with either side, but supplying medicines and such to the Aurors. "Why you, and why now?"
"My brother's family is, as you know, a bunch of Dark Pureblood bigots firmly in the camp of Tom Riddle, and Grindelwald before him. I saw what Riddle did the first time around; I don't want to let him rise again without helping this time. There are enough of my descendants and collateral relatives to keep the business going; Robert is gone these twenty years now and more, so he cannot object; and I find myself with too much time on my hands. I don't want to just do research, although I can; I want to help. I'm not too old to either aim a wand or mix a potion, and I am still a competent nurse. I also still own enough of the company to get supplies for both the Order and Hogwarts, as much as you want, at a lower cost. I am willing to take the Oath, as well; let the Phoenix judge me."
"Do you know what is happening now?"
"At least six different versions; tell me the true one, please."
The next hour was spent in his giving her a concise retelling of Tom Riddle's fall and second rise, leaving out only a few critical details that he would tell her if her Oath was accepted.
"So—the Minister's a twit who thinks you're out for his job, the main paper blows hot and cold, and you haven't nearly the forces you really need to give Riddle what he deserves. Sounds familiar." She smiled.
"Anything else?"
Dumbledore's smile dimmed. "Let me give you fair warning: I'm preparing my school for war, Tish," he said soberly. "I believe that we could be—no, we will be--invaded, and I do not intend to lose Hogwarts to any Dark Wizard. This is the why of the summer researchers; not only do we need the castle history and layout researched, plus some advanced Potions, but also the teens to be involved are among the most at risk from Tom. This is why the summer Potions class; those taking it need to bring their OWL grades up to the O my Potions Master demands for his NEWT students, but the usable brews will go into the stockpiles, and will be heavily biased toward medical supplies. This is why we are going to have summer Defense practical seminars, led by Aurors. This is why Filius Flitwick—remember, the Tournament Dueler? He's the Charms Master, and Head of Ravenclaw—is starting an aerial combat seminar. And this is why I'm looking healthy; I have personally gone back into training. I expect to have to face Tom at least once more myself, and losing is not an option."
Madam Dumarest smiled. "I'm in, Albus; just say the word. I haven't done anything even remotely exciting in decades."
Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with pleasure. "How soon can you be ready? As it happens I do have a task for which you would be suited, but it might be beneath your rank as a Potions Mistress."
"As soon as this afternoon," she replied eagerly. "I need to close the house and pack my bags, but that won't take long. If where I'm going has no Potions supplies, I'll want to get some in and set up a lab; I'm camping in a little family-owned cottage that really isn't suitable to work in."
"Then I must ask you this: what would you think of teaching at Hogwarts?"
She started, eyes opening wide. "I thought Aurelius' great-grandson was the Potions Master there? What happened to him?"
"Nothing—but I wish to split his duties between upper-level Potions and upper-level Defense Against the Dark Arts, at which he is equally competent, and I will need someone for the lower forms in Potions; I have one for Defense. He is seeking a new Master or Journeyman on my behalf, as the new hire was to be subordinate to him, but you are too high-ranking to be such; I was also hoping for assistance in the summer restock brewing. And, before you ask—the report that I cleared his name of being a Death Eater at the end of the First War is true. He was foolish enough to take Tom's Mark, but saw his errors after about a year, and turned to me; he has been my spy ever since, in Tom's Inner Circle. Tom thinks he's his spy in my camp, and he's been walking that tightrope since before Riddle's first fall."
Madam Dumarest's eyes grew wide. "Oh, Rowena's quill—he must have been barely twenty the first time around!"
"Yes, and he is not yet forty now. I would like to know this: have you ever met? Are you on good terms if so?"
She shrugged. "I doubt it; his father has no more good opinion of me than his grandfather did, so it's unlikely I've ever met him. I've seen his name in the Potions journals, as he has mine, and we've exchanged a few letters, but I have no idea if he knows which Dumarest I am, or that we're more than distantly related. I use 'A. L. Dumarest' in my letters and articles, and at least three of Robert's relatives have those initials, one of them male; there are rather a lot of us, and not all of them were Rob's and mine."
Dumbledore smiled. "Then this might be a pleasant surprise for him. Merlin knows he needs all the support he can get, although he would deny it to the skies."
"Another stubborn Snape, huh?" she laughed.
"Indeed; this is part of what makes him valuable to me. He has also earned fairly every one of those academic awards, and many more that he will never get. The man is brilliant; his mother was a Rosier, but not one of the vicious ones; you know of his father. Severus has not had an easy time of it, and it shows in his customary attitude to the world of a snarky bastard—but he is one of the strongest people I know." He took her hands in his. "Under those conditions, and if the Phoenix accepts you—will you come to Hogwarts? There are young people who have a hard time believing that we elders still know how to stir a cauldron."
"As if you ever forgot, after all that time with Nicholas," she smiled back, giving his hands a return squeeze.
"Indeed. If I ever needed to, I could teach Potions as well as History of Magic, Transfiguration and Defense; however, I have more than enough to do running the place to be more than an occasional fill-in." He released her hands, and stood, offering his arm. "Come back to Hogwarts with me, and then you may make an informed decision. Also, the Phoenix you must please lives there. If you decide to stay, you may select some quarters. Then you can go back home and pack before you come to stay. The sooner we begin, the sooner you can get started on several projects we have."
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II. Albus, Tish and Severus
(Later, that same day)
"Severus, a word?" Dumbledore called out to his Potions Master in the corridor outside his office. Snape halted and turned toward the Headmaster.
"A problem, Albus?" he asked.
"No, rather a solution to one of our situations: I have found us another Potions Professor, a Mistress. Not only that, she has just been cleared by Fawkes; she is joining the Order."
Snape's eyes opened wide. "That is good news; of those names I've seen on the list so far, no one of those who passed the Dark filter comes anywhere near my minimum standard, and the one I have managed to contact does not want to teach, deeming it beneath him. Does she accept the conditions?"
"Yes. Not only that, she has connections to the Dumarest Apothecaries; she can get us better supplies at lower prices and faster shipping."
Snape was intrigued now. "Who is she? A Dumarest married into my family back a few generations, but my father's line despised them for not upholding 'proper Pureblood values and cultural standards'. It didn't stop him from buying from them, though; they really are the best for many things. She may be a cousin of mine, a few degrees removed."
"You've read her articles under the name of A. L. Dumarest. Come up and meet her; I think you'll be pleased." With that, Dumbledore turned back to the gargoyle guarding the stairs to his office; Snape followed him.
When they arrived at the top, Dumbledore opened the door and the two entered. "Tish, here he is: this is my Potions Master, Severus Snape. Severus, this is Potions Mistress Antonia Leticia Dumarest." He gestured toward the elderly Witch sitting in one of his guest chairs.
Snape nodded politely. "A pleasure, Madam," he said, as he took her hand and bowed over it. When he rose, his eyes met hers—and his widened in shock at meeting a mirror set of the typical Snape onyx eyes—set in a face he had last seen in a painting a long time ago. Then the name sank in.
"Surely you cannot be she! You are the older double of a painting at Snape Manor of my father's Great-Aunt Antonia! Are you her granddaughter?"
"Albus, you never told me he was such a flatterer," she smiled. "Or did you think that Albus was the only one who was functional at his age? After all, one of his NEWT examiners was testing the children here just last month. I am your father's Great-Aunt Antonia; Albus calls me 'Tish' after my middle name of Leticia, as he did when we were in school together. And I am the 'A. L. Dumarest' you were writing to about the modification on the Wolfsbane Potion; you never did get back to me on that. Do sit down, dear; we have much to discuss, and from what Albus says, not a lot of time to set up plans." Her voice had the honey accent of the American South, overlaid on the basic educated British English.
Snape sat down in a daze. Bits and pieces of family history came back to him; his great-grandfather Aurelius had an older sister, who had turned her back on the family's Dark orientation and married the head of the Dumarest Apothecaries, themselves firmly Light-Side or at worst neutral. But not much was known about what happened to her after the family left France for the United States, more than sixty years previously. If this was indeed she, then this was a Potions Mistress who outranked him, and was nearly as old as Dumbledore! Where had the Headmaster found her?
"Albus, surely you do not intend to make her my subordinate," he protested. "Leaving aside the family relationship, Madam Dumarest is a Potions Mistress of at least two grades above me, with far more experience. And if she has kept up as she was, you could easily replace me with her with a net gain in competence!" It was a measure of both his shock and his respect for the lady that he so willingly allowed that someone was much better than he at Potions.
"Nonsense, Severus, if I may call you by your name," Madam Dumarest said gently, before Dumbledore could answer. "I wrote to Albus for a meeting, and offered my services to the Order in any capacity in which I may help. You have been the Potions Master here for fifteen years, and you are still young. I have no intention of replacing you, dear; I'm here because there is only one of you and too many things for you to do, and you and Albus both need someone else on hand whom you can trust with your cauldrons, your children, and your secrets. I can either take the summer Potions class for you, or mentor your researchers, so that you don't have to do both; Albus has been filling me in on the political difficulties. I can take your upper-level classes when you have to be away, or when you are filling in for Professor Lupin; this way Albus doesn't have to. My title can be Assistant Potions Mistress; you are still the Potions Master here. What we are on the outside is not always relevant to the school hierarchy." She gave him a kindly smile, and took his hand. "Also, Albus has told me the truth about you, and I am more than pleased that at least one of Aurelius' descendants had the brains to break away from the likes of Riddle, who—if everything I've heard is true—is personally worse than Grindelwald was, if not so well organized. I don't care what your father thinks; as far as I am concerned, and as the Eldest of the family—and since I am a widow, and was never formally disowned, I am still Eldest--you are the Snape I choose to acknowledge, and as such, you may call me 'Aunt Antonia' when we are not calling each other 'Professor'."
Snape sat there, frozen in shock, for another minute; then he withdrew his hand from hers, and buried his face in both hands. This had been his month for shocks, and he had never been fond of surprises. First had been the astounding letters from Potter, and the events which transpired from that; now this, a relative from the past whom he'd never imagined meeting, who was already deep into Albus' plots and schemes, and who knew his dangerous secret, and was holding out the hand of friendly kinship—something that had been absent from his blood family for more years than he cared to think of. What next?
The Headmaster chuckled. "Tish, I do believe you've rather shocked him," he said. "He's already had several this month, and he's a bit…overwhelmed."
"A bit?" Snape returned, with some of his usual acidic bite. He sat up and glared at Dumbledore. "Your gift for understatement, Albus, is in full force today. I had no idea that Madam Dumarest was even alive, let alone fit to teach."
"Severus, she is only two years younger than I am, and you know that I am in good health. Why can't she be alive?" Dumbledore's voice still had a smile in it.
"Alive, and on our side, and willing to come out of a nice peaceful retirement into a war zone, and willing to teach the dunderheads that you've so kindly taken off my hands?" Snape growled. "That sets off a good many alarm bells in my suspicious mind. You've also told her about me; now she'll have to have Occlumency training along with those children who know too much. Merlin knows what the Dark Lord will do, when he finds out about her being here, and who she is: he'll want to conscript her or kill her! She's born a Snape, and better at Potions than I am; that makes her a target for recruitment. She can certainly take my place in the classroom; but she cannot take my place as a spy! And, last and worst, I will have to be the first one who tells him about her! If he finds out that a relative of mine has joined with Albus at the school from anyone else, I will be fortunate indeed if I survive!"
"That should be the least of your worries, dear," Madam Dumarest said. "Assuming that you do have to tell Tom Riddle which Dumarest I am, I sincerely doubt that he will bother me—once it is pointed out that his people will be cut off and blacklisted from any potions supplies that we sell if he does not take 'no' for an answer. I have too much clout in the company. I am certain that among our customers are some of his buyers, and not just you. We have too many monopolies on some things, and our quality is still second to none. If he wants you to make the rare brews I am certain he needs for nefarious purposes, he will have to deal with us.
"As for the rest of your comments: Yes, I am alive and quite healthy for my age. I have been firmly Light Side all my life; that is why I parted ways with my brother, your great-grandfather Aurelius. Albus and I knew each other in school; I was in Ravenclaw, two years behind him, and we have been good friends ever since we met. Aurelius was in the year behind me, in Slytherin. Yes, I am long retired: I am also bored silly. I have done everything in the company that there is to do, and now I'm in the way of the young people. I do still love research, but I want there to be a point to it. And while I haven't taught in many years, I did enjoy it when I did. I need something to do so that I don't perish from disuse and boredom—and Albus needs me. I don't fear a war zone; the United States has had Dark Wizards, too, and I've done my fair share there. I still have my ParaMediWitch certificate—that's like a battlefield surgeon, more than a nurse but not quite a full Healer—and I can help your school nurse as well as teach. Oh yes—I am a qualified Occlumens already, but I'm certain that you and Albus can test my skill level and perhaps improve it."
"And has Albus told you of what you are risking?" Snape demanded. "Do you have any idea just what this war is all about, and what the Dark Lord is capable of? You are still one of the foremost Potions Mistresses alive, and should be protected!"
Madam Dumarest was calm. "I do, indeed," she replied. "Remember, my husband and I were the ones who took Dumarest Apothecaries out of France and to the United States upon the advent of Grindelwald. My brother and his son, your grandfather, were supporters of that Dark Lord. I know what is at stake. This Riddle is not as well-organized on a large scale as Grindelwald was, nor has he a convenient Muggle ally as Hitler was, through his underling Himmler, nor has he as many bodies to throw around as cannon fodder; but he seems to be personally at least as bad if not worse. I do not intend to let someone like that get into power. I could not help the first time, because that was about the time of Robert's final illness; but I am going to help now. I am not really fit for front-line combat, but I am not totally unfit, either. I don't need protection, any more than you do, and even you will admit that having two Potions experts of our level helps the Order."
Snape sank back into his chair and sighed. Now was the time to surrender gracefully; between Dumbledore and this determined Witch, he was outnumbered. And Dumbledore was right about one thing: this did solve their problem of hiring another Potions professor; he was still smarting a little at the last prospect that sneered at him for being a teacher instead of a researcher. Madam Dumarest at least didn't have that bias. "Very well," he said. "At least you are intelligent enough that we can work together without my explaining every little detail. I think it would be best if you were to mentor the researchers; this way, I can concentrate on the students in the class, as I know them. But Father will find out sooner or later. While he despises me for taking the Mark, and thereby becoming a bond-slave, he is still a supporter of Riddle, less because of the Pureblood issue than the fact Riddle is the chief Dark Wizard now alive in Britain."
"I thought as much," Madam Dumarest replied. "Your grandfather was snobbish and proud, and hated the Ministry for being too restrictive. I've never met your father, but given what few articles of his I've read, I suspect that he is much the same. So long as I do not try to claim any of the estate, he is probably willing to let me alone."
Snape nodded. "And as this is the first time we have met, he will not suspect any working kinship between us for a while. Very well—I will have to tell the Dark Lord about you, but I think I have an idea for how to do so with a minimum of trouble."
He rose, and held out his hand. "If you are to work here, then I should show you around; you will want to select a work area and storage space of your own, as well as take whatever quarters Albus has assigned you."
"Thank you," she replied with a smile. "I don't think that there will be any trouble with that; the reputation of Hogwarts is still as high as it was in Albus' and my day as students."
"And thank you both," Dumbledore put in, with a smile. "Things cannot but be better, now that I have two of you instead of one to share the load."
Snape glared at the Headmaster. "Albus, I would truly appreciate you giving me more warning next time you decide to spring such a shock on me. I do have my limitations, and with everything that happened last week, I have nearly reached them already!"
Dumbledore spread out his hands in a what-can-I-do gesture. "Tell me what I should have done, then, when I received Tish's letter to meet, and she came to us offering help. I know that you are cynical and suspicious; that has kept you alive. But do remember that we are working under some time constraints as well. And this is not like the fiascoes we have had of hiring Defense Professors; had she not been worthy, Fawkes would not have approved her. This only happened just this morning, and I was at least as surprised as you were."
"Then maybe you should get Fawkes to approve all your hires," Snape retorted. "That might have saved us from at least four of your last five hires in that post. Lupin is a Dark Creature, but he is at least a Light-biased Wizard in his human state."
Dumbledore considered the idea. "That might not be such a bad idea, Severus," he mused. "But later for that. Do give Tish the five-Sickle tour, and have her choose either dungeon quarters or rooms in the Faculty Wing."
"I think Faculty Wing, near Ravenclaw, would be better," Madam Dumarest said diplomatically. "I understand that the dungeon level is almost exclusively Slytherin territory, and I would not care to intrude. There should be enough unused rooms to set up my laboratory, and also another discreet one."
"There are, and you shall," Dumbledore agreed. He rose. "Off with you two, and let me know what additional supplies we will need to lay in." The two Potions Professors left him to his thoughts.