-Chapter 13-
A Few Start of Term Notices
Sunday, 31 August
It had been a week since Remus had arrived at Hogwarts, briefcase in one hand, suitcase in the other. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, precisely, but it wasn't the silence with which he'd been greeted. No one would meet his eye, not even Minerva, though she'd at least hugged him and welcomed him back. Everyone else had been polite, but distant. Severus had been so distant as to be absent entirely. He had caught Malfoy looking at him once, but when she realized he had noticed, she looked away, though not before he saw the ice in her eyes.
The castle had never seemed so empty and subdued. Even Peeves seemed to be sulking, and had lost interest in drawing mustaches on the portraits lining the second floor corridor. It was far from the effervescent atmosphere that Remus always remembered from Hogwarts, though he didn't know what the difference was. At least, he didn't know until a scant three hours before the students were set to arrive.
He was sitting in his office, a cup of tea growing cold on the edge of the desk, making a few last minute notes on the lessons he'd planned for tomorrow. Unlike the teachers who had been here for decades, he did not have a file of lesson plans to pull out at will, and he knew that he would be spending considerably more time than most of them sitting at his desk and making notes for himself so he could lecture the subject. He knew the material inside and out, but the difference between effective teaching and nonsensical rambling was preparedness.
He was putting the finishing touches on a lesson for the first years when he had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. He looked up and found Snape standing just outside his door, leaning against the frame, his arms folded, his eyes narrowed.
"Severus," he said in greeting, putting his quill aside. "Is there something I can do for you?"
For a long moment, Snape didn't say anything. When he did finally straighten, he answered in a cold voice. "Yes, as a matter of fact. You can start by staying clear of me."
Unbelievable. The retort on the end of Remus' tongue was to the effect that he wasn't the one who had sought out contact, but he kept the comment to himself, lifting an eyebrow. "I have little reason to venture into the dungeons," he replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms as well. "I'm sure you're quite capable of avoiding me if you don't wish to run into me."
Snape narrowed his eyes further, and Remus reflected that another hair's width and they'd be closed entirely. "I'm warning you, Lupin," he said in a low voice as he walked, uninvited, into the office. "If I see you anywhere near this castle during the full moon…"
"You needn't worry about that, Severus. It is part of my contract. I'll not be a danger." Remus couldn't quite keep the hint of bitterness from his voice that he had to have such a stipulation in the terms of his employment, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself for that.
Snape crossed the room and braced his hands on the desk, leaning forward. "If I see you during the full moon," he said in a low, measured tone, "you will not live long enough to be in breach of contract."
Remus sighed. "I suppose this means we aren't going to be calling a truce for the term," he commented quietly.
"Call it what you will," Snape replied shortly, turning sharply away from the desk again. "Just stay out of my path."
Remus exhaled slowly. This probably wouldn't be a good time to inquire about the possibility of Snape brewing the Wolfsbane for him, though he did intend to ask about it as soon as the Potions master seemed to be in a more agreeable mood.
"If there are any changes to the specifications of your Wolfsbane, you may leave me a note before Tuesday. Otherwise, I will leave it for you in the staff room on Wednesday morning."
Snape was gone before Remus had the chance to say anything at all.
It was nearing nightfall when a soft knock interrupted Remus and he looked up. Minerva was standing there in her emerald robes, and at least she was meeting his eyes this time. He smiled and gestured for her to come in.
"I believe I owe you an apology," she said without preamble.
"What ever for?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.
She sighed and settled into the chair in front of his desk. "For putting you in this position," she replied quietly. "I fear I'm largely to blame for the cool reception you've had."
He folded his arms and shook his head. "I don't understand."
Minerva glanced away, then took breath. "I'm afraid Malfoy wasn't terribly pleased to discover that the professor she hired was a boyhood rival of another of the staff members." She folded her hands in her lap. "You do know that Severus wants this position, and he applied for it again, of course. She was rather unhappy to learn she'd overlooked him in favor of one of his enemies."
Remus smiled a bit ruefully. "I suppose I've grown accustomed to Dumbledore's willingness to overlook such things."
"I think we all did," Minerva said softly. "Severus is quite upset, you know. He hasn't said ten words to me all week."
"I knew something was going on," Remus replied. "It would take a blind man not to notice the tension."
"He'll get over it," Minerva said, sounding rather like the stern professor she was; Remus could almost hear the 'or else' lingering unspoken.
"I take it that Malfoy is rather firmly on his side in these matters, then?"
"I wouldn't give her credit for being on anyone's side, in any matter," Minerva muttered. "She's really being quite unreasonable if you ask me. So far, I don't think she's seen fit to leave anything alone."
Remus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. If his memory served, there were plenty of things that could have been changed for the better in this school, but everyone had agreed that Dumbledore had more important things on his mind. "Maybe everything will work out all right in the end," he suggested optimistically. Minerva snorted in response.
"I need to go. The students will be here any minute."
Remus nodded and stood, giving his robe a careful swipe with his hand. "I'll see you at the feast then," he said with a smile, walking Minerva to the door. She wasn't halfway down the corridor when another figure appeared from the other direction. Dressed in a shimmering white robe, the new Headmistress was as easy to pick out as a cardinal in the snow.
"Professor Lupin," she said, inclining her head formally as she walked past him without slowing.
"Headmistress," he replied to her back. She stopped halfway down the corridor and turned around, coming to a halt in front of him.
"You are going to change your robe before the feast, aren't you?" she asked, giving him a discerning look.
He felt a heat creeping into his face. "I'm afraid this is the best robe I own," he replied with as much dignity as he could manage. The robe was clean, unwrinkled, and only patched in one place, which was near the hem at the back. The sleeves might have been a bit frayed, and there was a button missing, but it was far less shabby than anything else he possessed.
" i Lautereus obvolvus /i !" she said quietly, waving her wand gracefully at him. The robe took on a crisper, neater appearance, the patches fading into the fabric and the frayed hems mending themselves. She pocketed her wand and looked at him again. "As long as you are representing this school as a teacher, you will be presentable, Professor Lupin," she said flatly. "Tomorrow, you will go to Hogsmeade and purchase two new robes."
His face continued to burn at the chastisement. "It has been years since I've had the money to spend on clothes," he pointed out quietly.
She lifted an eyebrow. "I'll give you an advance against your first month's salary," she replied. "If you were a footman, I would expect you to be well groomed. I certainly expect that much of my faculty."
He bristled slightly. "Don't you think there are more important things to be worrying about?" he asked. "Quality of the education, for instance?"
She gave him a level look. "If I were your student," she said plaintively, "I would not be hard pressed to respect you if it were so obvious that you had so little self pride that you could not be bothered with your appearance."
"I told you I have never been able to afford…" he began, but she held up a slender hand, her mouth set.
"And that is no longer an excuse," she said. "You are employed, you will have a regular paycheck, and you will be well-dressed. Is that quite clear, Professor?"
Still bristling at the chastisement, he straightened. "Crystal," he replied.
She turned and continued down the corridor, and he was hard pressed not to ask if he'd been dismissed to be about his business.
Massaging her temples, Hermione sank gratefully against the seat of the coach and closed her eyes. Unlike most of the prefects, she took her position very seriously, and she'd not been inclined to turn her head when she saw a quartet of fourth years telling a frightened-looking first year that the sorting ceremony was going to be a grueling and painful experience. It had taken five minutes to calm the trembling child, and another ten minutes to explain to the fourth years why they should not be tormenting new students. Appeals to compassion and logic had not worked, but a threat to tell McGonagall did.
"All right there, Hermione?"
Her nose wrinkled at the sound of Ron's voice. He could have at least had the decency to help her, but he was too busy laughing at the fourth years' jokes.
"So," Ginny asked as she settled in beside Hermione, "do you think McGonagall will be Headmistress since Dumbledore was sacked?"
"Of course," Hermione replied. "That's why they have a Deputy Headmistress, so that if something happens to the Headmaster, there's someone there to take his place."
"I wonder who will be Deputy then?" Harry speculated as he nudged at Ron, urging him to budge up.
"Probably Snape, knowing our luck," Ron replied miserably.
"Maybe it will be Professor Sprout," Hermione speculated. "Or Professor Flitwick." Even as she suggested Flitwick, she knew that was a laughable suggestion. He simply didn't have the presence for the position. She suspected Ron was right, and as much as she disapproved of the way the boys talked about Professor Snape, she was rather inclined to agree with the sentiment—if he was Deputy Headmaster, it was likely to be an even more rotten year than they'd expected.
They'd all been shocked to discover that Dumbledore had been sacked, and to make matters even worse, they weren't supposed to know about it. The only reason they did was because the twins had found a way to get their Extendable Ears past the Imperturbable Charms on the kitchen door and they'd overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about it.
"Probably Snape," Ginny muttered. "I feel sorry for the first years. He'll scare them witless before they even have the chance to be sorted." They spent the rest of the carriage ride in silence.
When they were all settled at the Gryffindor table, Hermione peered at the staff table. Lupin was sitting near one end, the expression on his face somewhat less affable than she was used to seeing. Professor Snape was there, as were Flitwick and Sprout. Trelawney, Vector, and Sinastra were all there, as were Hooch and Hagrid. Dumbledore's chair was empty, and so was the one beside it.
"Wonder where McGonagall is?" Ron asked, leaning his head onto his hand.
"Maybe she's still in charge of the Sorting," Ginny speculated. Hermione glanced at her, and saw that she was busily staring at the teachers' table as well.
"If she's Headmistress, I wonder who's teaching Transfiguration…" Harry also seemed to have picked up on the fact that there were no new faces at the table.
"Maybe they haven't found anyone yet," Hermione suggested, though she doubted her own words.
"Maybe she'll give us less homework then," Ron said, seeming to brighten a bit at the prospect. Hermione glowered at him, and went back to studying the table.
"They don't look very happy, do they?" Ginny asked.
"No, they don't," Hermione agreed. "I wonder what's wrong."
A side door opened and a woman stepped sideways into the Great Hall, closing the door behind her. She was very thin, with pale blond hair and a delicate face, and she might have been pretty if she didn't look so cold. There was something about her expression though, and combined with the white robe she was wearing, Hermione couldn't quite dislodge the image of an ice queen from her mind.
"Suppose that's the new Transfiguration teacher?" Harry asked, peering intently. "She looks familiar."
Ron squinted too, but shook his head. "I don't think I've ever seen her before."
She paused behind Professor Snape's chair and bent, whispering something to him, and his expression tightened considerably as she straightened. Whatever she'd said, he was apparently unimpressed. "That's odd," Hermione murmured, but she hadn't the time to elaborate as the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor McGonagall came in, leading the first years.
Hermione watched the new students filing in and attempted to catch the eye of the one who had been the victim of fourth years' teasing, but all of the new arrivals were either too busy being awed at the charmed ceiling or looking as though they were about to wet themselves out of fear. When the students were gathered at the front of the hall, Professor McGonagall called out above the chatter and commotion, and everyone fell silent as she placed the Sorting Hat on the stool.
After a brief pause, the hat's brim opened and its new song filled the hall.
"Our story begins a thousand years past,
The school was new and a sight to behold—
The founders desired to see their world last,
Two witches, two wizards, one dream, one goal.
They devoted their lives to this grand dream
And built into these walls their hearts and souls
And sealed all the cracks with designs and schemes—
The result could not be measured in gold.
They were visionaries, the founders four,
And even as their school flourished, they knew
That time would bring change, and change would bring more,
And embracing change is how this school grew.
Some things, however, will never be changed,
And how I choose where to put you is one;
For ages, this ritual has remained
The way students are placed where they belong.
If yours is a heart courageous and true,
Gryffindor House is the right place for you.
If your mind is given to intellect,
Ravenclaw will likely be your best bet.
Those with ambition and cunning to spare
Shall look to Slytherin for like minds there.
For those who fear no work and seek no fame
Hufflepuff'll welcome you to share their name.
Rest easy and know that while change is in store,
Some things that are constant, and this rite is one.
I'll choose for you one of the houses four,
Exactly the way I have always done.
Hermione exchanged glances with Harry and Ron as they clapped politely for the Sorting Hat's song.
"What do you suppose that meant?" Harry asked.
"I think perhaps we'd best be prepared for surprises," Hermione whispered in reply.
"Abbot, William!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out as clearly as it ever had, and a frightened-looking boy with sandy hair tiptoed cautiously to the stool.
The hat settled onto his head, and after a brief hesitation, proclaimed loudly, "RAVENCLAW!"
"Amos, Abigail!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"I wonder what kind of change the Hat was talking about," Ginny murmured.
"Anderson, Oliver!"
"Well, obviously Dumbledore isn't here anymore," Ron pointed out, and Hermione sighed.
"Obviously," she whispered. "But that wouldn't require a warning like that from the Sorting Hat, would it?"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Florence Anthony went into Hufflepuff, and Nicholas Arrington into Slytherin, and finally, Katherine Barber received a raucous roar from the Gryffindor table and Jasper Bates was close on her heels. When the commotion had settled a bit, Hermione glanced at the High Table again and frowned a bit. The woman they'd assumed was teaching Transfiguration was nowhere to be seen, and the only two empty places were the throne Dumbledore had always occupied and the chair to its right, where McGonagall had always sat.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Who was that?" Ron asked suddenly, squinting. "I'm trying to remember everyone's names but…"
"Myrna Boswell," Hermione answered as she joined in the cheering.
The Sorting dragged on and on, and Hermione passed the time studying the teachers. Snape was scowling, and that was hardly unusual, but it was unusual to see such a frown on Professor Sprout's face. Everyone seemed to be a little more subdued than usual, and there was a tightness on all the faces that Hermione wasn't accustomed to seeing. By the time Estelle May was sorted into Hufflepuff, Hermione had decided something was very definitely wrong, and by the time Anthony Webber joined the Slytherin table, Hermione had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Stanley Young was the last to be sorted, and as he settled at the Gryffindor table, Hermione realized she was holding her breath.
McGonagall removed the stool and hat to one side of the Great Hall and moved in front of the table. "May I have your attention please?" she called, and the chatter slowly subsided, heads swiveling towards her. When she was satisfied that she had everyone's attention, McGonagall continued. "Before we begin our feast, I would like you all to join me in welcoming our new Headmistress, Regalia Malfoy."
The blond woman stepped forward amidst whispers from the students.
"Malfoy?" Ron hissed at the same time Harry whispered, "I told you she looked familiar."
Hermione felt as though her stomach had just been filled with lead, and she could barely swallow, visions of being expelled for being a 'Mudblood' filling her mind. All over the Hall, students were having the same mixed bag of reactions. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were whispering frantically, the Slytherins suddenly abuzz. The Gryffindor table was a nest of outrage.
The sound of wood scraping against stone drew Hermione's attention back to the Head table—Professor Lupin had stood and began clapping, and a moment later, the other professors followed his lead, and the students took their cue from the teachers, applauding politely.
The new Headmistress raised her hands, a distant smile on her face. "Thank you," she said, gesturing as though she were patting down the applause. If the delayed reaction offended her, she didn't show it. "And thank you, Professor McGonagall," Malfoy said, and Hermione had the distinct impression that something passed between the two women.
"First off, I want to welcome you all back for another year at Hogwarts. I have a list of things I'm told I need to announce." She unfolded a piece of parchment and peered at it. "First, Mr. Filch requests I remind everyone that there is to be no magic, no dueling, no broomsticks, no dungbombs, no firecrackers, no swamp charms…" She trailed off and turned to look at Filch. "Good heavens. Swam charms?" she repeated, and a few snickers rose from the students. She shook her head and peered at the parchment again. "Behave in the corridors," she said. "And I will distribute this list to each of the common rooms and that should be sufficient. I hope that you are all aware that there is to be no scuffling in the corridors, though. That is really common sense."
Hermione avoided looking at Ron and Harry. Common sense? At Hogwarts? Nothing about Hogwarts made sense.
"I am also to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is… Forbidden." She shot a sideways glance at McGonagall, who sat expressionless, just like the rest of the teachers. "I also have a note here that…" she trailed off and frowned at the parchment, then folded it and placed it in her pocket. "Everyone behave and use the brains you were born with. I daresay you all know what is expected of you by now, but in case you do not, you will hear more of this tomorrow." She sat abruptly in her chair. "Thank you all for your attention," she said, and folded her hands in her lap.
There was a moment's pause, and then McGonagall leaned over and whispered something to the new Headmistress. A look of understanding crossed Malfoy's face, and she stood again, spreading her hands. "Let the feast begin," she said, and the food appeared on the tables.
A/N: aren't you proud of me? That's two updates to this story in one week!
Cecelle: Thanks for pointing out the punctuation goof. I guess it was a program malfunction, because all the commas and such were in place in my word document. I don't know. I'm glad you continue to find one-liners that amuse you. You're right, Regalia is a bit of an overachiever (all right, more than a bit) ;)
duj: I imagine he has, too, but now the question might be what he thinks of her. I'd imagine she's gone down a bit in his estimation. And once again, I think we're on the same wavelength regarding Dumbledore- I've never been particularly impressed with him as a Headmaster, and I'm sure that shows.
ante.albus Carnivore: Thanks for the comments! I'm glad you're enjoying.
Iphi: lol. You seem awfully sure she's going to get her comeuppance (watch this space ;) I'm loving all the different reactions I'm getting! I'm so glad some people still hate little miss Malfoy ;)
Lou: Thanks for the comments! Hopefully I'm back on track updating regularly again. As far as Malfoy v Minerva... hrm.
yukka: Thanks for the comments! I'm glad you think it's worth it even if it isn't updated as often as I'd prefer.
Labidolemur: Thanks for the comments and encouragement! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Looks like I can add you to my list of people who think Dumbledore is a rotten Headmaster in a realistic sense. I think you've described perfectly how I'm trying to portray Regalia- she certainly has the students' best interest in mind, and that is her top priority. And yes, not being used to some of the nonsense that goes on at Hogwarts (and I have to say that from a real life perspective, I do think a lot of nonsense goes on in that school) her reactions are going to be a bit more pure. (see scene above regarding the 'reminders' at start of term... does anyone else think it's ridiculous that Dumbledore has to remind the students EVERY YEAR that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden?) Anyway, thanks for the comments!
In fact, thanks to all who are reading and commenting. I have to admit that the reviews help to keep this fic in 'front burner' status with my other WiPs demanding so much of my attention.
-Jen
