"This place is amazing…"
Sirius smiled with pride – although he had absolutely nothing to do with the building of the castle.
"It's the largest of the wizarding schools – and has produced more than its share of famous wizards."
"Such as Lord Voldemort?" Teal'c asked.
Sirius made a rueful face, and Sam couldn't help but smile – trust Teal'c to puncture that proud little bubble.
"Well, yes. Him, too."
"Why are there so many staircases?" Daniel asked, to draw attention from Teal'c's question. He didn't even know who this Lord Voldemort guy was – aide from the fact that he was Jack's brother and some kind of evil villain – but Sam was right. The place was amazing.
"We're on a mountain side," Arthur Weasley said, glad for the change of subject. "Instead of sprawling the building outward – like they might have done had it been on a plain or in a valley – they built up – and that means staircases."
"With towers and the works?"
Weasley smiled.
"Yes."
"How many students do you have here?"
Weasley shrugged.
"I'm not a teacher here, I'm afraid. I can't answer that."
"You're not?" Daniel asked. "What do you do, then?"
"I work with the Ministry of Magic – the people who are our governing body, so to speak. To be precise, I work as a sort of liaison between my people and yours – although the Muggles never know about the work I do."
Which didn't tell them anything, although Sam was too polite to say it. She knew what he did, because she had read the books. Poor Daniel didn't have a clue and Sam knew it – and could see it in his expression even if she hadn't. Sirius noticed as well.
"You haven't read those books, have you, Doctor Jackson?"
Daniel flushed slightly, and shook his head.
"Um… no."
"Well, you're not missing much, really…" Sirius said smiling and heading for the closest staircase. "It doesn't even mention me until the third book! Can you believe that?"
Daniel frowned as they headed up the stairs – and grabbed the rail when the staircase under them suddenly began to move.
"Are you a teacher here?"
Sirius laughed and shook his head, stopping them with a gesture until the stairwell finished its move.
"Actually I'm an escaped murderer…"
"It was a frame up," Sam said quickly. "He didn't really kill anyone."
"I should have, though," Sirius said, darkly, looking over at them. "If I would have known what was going to happen, I would have-"
"It is impossible to foresee such events," Teal'c said. "You should not blame yourself for what happened."
"What happened?" Daniel asked, curiously.
"It's a long story," Weasley said, taking Sam's hand when a step suddenly disappeared under her foot.
"Well… this is a pretty big place…" Daniel said, jumping over the missing stone. "We should have time while you guys give me the grand tour…"
"True." Weasley agreed. As they headed down one of the long, dark halls, he started to tell Daniel – and Sam and Teal'c to some degree – a little about the actual history behind the books.
OOOOOOOOOO
It was a long time before Jack was able – and willing – to lift his head from his arms, and Minerva didn't rush him. She'd been well aware that what she was telling him was going to possibly upset him – she'd been watching him when his son had been alive, and knew how much he'd loved the boy. And how devastated he'd been when he'd died.
"I'm sorry, Jack," she said, softly, handing him a tissue that materialized out of nowhere as soon as he lifted his head. "I don't mean to rekindle painful memories."
He nodded, but didn't say anything, his eyes red and filled with grief. A moment later she handed him a small glass with an inch of whiskey in it.
"Drink this."
He didn't even argue. He just took it and drank it, and felt the alcohol loosen the tight knot that had formed in his chest. The two of them were silent for another long moment, and finally Jack sighed.
"Are you sure about this?"
She nodded, but he wasn't looking at her and didn't see the motion.
"Yes, Jack. There's no doubt at all. Charlie definitely had magical abilities – you can ask Professor Dumbledore if you doubt my word – and there's no reason to believe that he hadn't used those powers before, and would again."
"I could have stopped him…"
She shook her head.
"You couldn't have. If anything, it's more my fault that your son is dead than it is yours. Had I been there that day, I could have stopped him. You wouldn't even have known what was happening."
Now there was just as much guilt in her voice as there was in Jack's, and he heard it. And shook his head.
"He was a stubborn little kid…" Jack said, and there was so much love in his voice as he'd said it that she felt a sting of tears. "He might not have listened to you, either."
"I'm very good at persuading stubborn children. I do it all the time, after all."
He looked at her, now, and sighed again, holding out the glass. A moment later it refilled itself.
"That's handy," he said, softly.
She gave him a slight smile.
"I wouldn't advise any more of it…"
He snorted.
"The first one was for shock… this one's medicinal."
He downed the whiskey, and leaned back in his chair, still deep in thought – although the grief was easing.
"Tell me about your son, Jack," Minerva said, sitting on the edge of her desk and handing him the plate of cookies once more.
This time he took one, although he didn't actually eat it.
"You probably know as much about him as anyone…"
"But I want to hear it from you," she said. Besides, it would be good for him to talk it out, and she knew it. Even if Jack didn't.
He shrugged, and started talking.
