Chapter 8
Author's Notes: I have heavily revised chapters 5 through 7; the changes may not appear to be major, but I was dissatisfied with my portrayal, and that was keeping me from moving further with this story. I'm still not convinced it's going anywhere, but we will take it one day at a time. Hopefully I will finish this thing before HBP comes out, as I am certain it will be incompatible with that. Thanks to saiyanwizardgurl, duj, Oya, LinZE, Elistar, and Mucada for reviewing. Sorry about the length of this instalment; I guess it's kind of short...
Dumbledore did not like to make announcements at breakfast, particularly not at the first breakfast of the new term. The students were preoccupied in catching up with their friends, sharing news of their holiday adventures. The upper years were sleepy, their teenaged bodies being ill-prepared to awaken in the early hours of a winter morning. There were other distractions, too -- post owls flying in and out of the Great Hall, and catastrophes over forgotten or mislaid luggage. So he hoped, as he presided over the Staff table, that the students would be too busy to notice the new addition to the staff until he could properly introduce her at dinner. Since the disillusionment charm that Filius Flitwick had tried to cast had failed, she was placed strategically between Hagrid and Snape. Her stature would seem diminutive beside the former, and most students would try to avoid the gaze of the latter, so that Miss Lara Larentia (as it had been decided she would be called), would be entirely overlooked by the majority of students.
One student who did notice, however, was one Miss Hermione Granger. Seated at the Gryffindor table between her two friends, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter, the sharp-eyed young witch spotted the new arrival at once.
"We have a new teacher," she commented as she reached for a glass of pumpkin juice.
"What? Where?" asked Ron, between mouthfuls of porridge.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded toward the head table. "Up there, Ronald. Beside Professor Snape."
"What's she doing sitting by that greasy git?" Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously. No one associated with the Head of Slytherin House, even through physical proximity, was trustworthy.
Hermione sighed and launched yet again into a lecture with which all three friends were familiar. In a low voice, so that no one else would hear, but somehow managing to sound confidently knowledgeable, she hissed at Ron, "For the last time, Ron, Professor Snape is a Potions master, and not a greasy git..."
Taking advantage of his friends' distraction in what promised to be a long discussion, Harry, who had learned through bitter experience to avoid looking at Professor Snape, stole a look at the new addition. She was engaged in amicable conversation with Hagrid, something which earned her regular looks of loathing from the Potions master. But Harry's keen eyes caught something else in Snape's glance which he did not expect -- fear. As the teachers began to disperse in anticipation of morning classes, Harry filed that information away in his mind.
Hermione, too, had evidently finished disciplining Ron, because when Harry looked back, she was preparing to leave the table. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to ask Professor Dumbledore about that woman," she replied, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"He'll probably introduce her at dinner," Harry pointed out, but Hermione's receding form only shrugged in response.
"It's no use talking to her," called Ron as he returned to his porridge. Swallowing the now-congealed contents of his spoon, he grimaced. "She has no right, keeping me from my breakfast like that! I need energy to face the new term, I do! A whole term of essays and exams and..." As his friend went on, Harry thought about all the other things they would need strength for.
When they saw Hermione again in History of Magic class, they asked what she had found out about the new teacher. Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I tried to get Dumbledore's attention, but then Professor McGonagoll wanted to talk to me about tutoring the first years. Of course, I couldn't refuse. I might try again during lunch hour."
"What, and forfeit your time at the library?" teased Ron.
"As long as we don't have anything assigned to us for homework, and you two don't have to go to an emergency Quidditch practice, I think we can spare the time," Hermione said sensibly.
In fact, once lunch hour came, they didn't have to disturb the headmaster. As they walked down one of the third-floor galleries, they spotted a ladder, the top of which rested almost at the intricately carved points which supported the arched ceiling. Perched sideways on one of the upper rungs, her robes draped behind her, was the mysterious new staff member. Although she was conversing with a portrait of Andros the Invincible, she could not fail to notice the trio standing at the foot of her ladder, and saying her goodbyes to the portrait, clambered down to meet them.
Believing a direct approach to be the best one, Hermione held out her hand and introduced herself. Returning the handshake with a slight squeeze, the woman smiled and turned to Hermione's friends. "This must be Mr Weasley and Mr Potter," she said as she shook hands with them, and Harry was relieved that her eyes did not immediately wander to his forehead. "The Headmaster warned me that I might encounter you three before the proper introductions. I am Lara Larentia. I am staying at the castle to complete some research."
"Research?" Hermione could not hide her interest. "On the paintings?"
"The portraits, yes..." Lara began to reply, but was interrupted by Hermione.
"I heard a lecture last year by a Muggle historian who said you could learn all sorts of things from a painting. I suppose a magical painting would be even more informative, seeing as it could communicate with you. Why think of the Fat Lady, or Phineas Nigellus! Do you remember, Harry, that painting at Gr --" she broke off suddenly and blushed. Her enthusiasm had nearly let out the secret Order meeting place.
"Ah, I see you have found Miss Larentia for me," came a voice from behind the trio. Turning in surprise, they saw Dumbledore, whose eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "I was just hoping to have a talk with her about the research she will be doing in the castle. If you will excuse us?" Hermione, Ron, and Harry were forced to part to make was for Lara, who took Dumbledore's arm and walked up the hallway disappeared behind a stone gargoyle.
Fawkes made a soft cooing noise as they entered the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore gestured for Lara to sit, and the phoenix came to nestle in her lap. Stroking the bird gently with her left hand, Lara gratefully accepted the offer of a lemon drop with her right.
"Have you learned anything fruitful from the portraits?" inquired Dumbledore.
"Only that there is much I do not know about this place," Lara smiled shyly.
The aged wizard leaned back in his chair and nodded. "The castle holds many secrets, of that we may be sure. I hope that you will be able to tease them out in the process of your work. I have been here longer than I care to admit, but the building still surprises me." Dumbledore paused and reached for another sweet from the bowl on his desk. "I believe Mister Potter, whom you just now had the pleasure of meeting, is currently in the possession of a remarkable map that outlines many of Hogwarts' hidden passages. Perhaps you could ask to use it."
Lara shook her head. "Right now," she said, "I only need to know how to get to the deepest dungeons. I think we must start from the foundations. The building will tell me where to go after that."
The Headmaster rose from his seat and smoothed the front of his robes. "We can go right now, if you wish," he said.
Nodding, Lara gently moved Fawkes, who blinked with indignation, back to his perch. She followed Dumbledore out of his office and down a wide stone staircase into the bowels of the ancient castle. As they descended, Dumbledore commented, "This is one of the few staircases that does not move. It was built before the Switching Charm was invented. I myself am grateful for it. I often have the misfortune of trying to climb a staircase when it decides to move. It's most inconvenient, for one thing, and I find I am more prone to motion sickness as I age."
The smell of cold and damp enveloped them as they reached the lowest levels of the castle. In these corridors, lit every few feet by dim torchlight, their footsteps echoed eerily down the long passageways. The floor was rough and uneven, made of the raw primeval stone that lay underneath all of Scotland.
Lara stopped suddenly in her tracks and crouched down, touching the floor with her hand. Her eyes eager and wide, as though she was hunting a small animal, she first got on her hands and knees, and then lay flat on the stone, her ear to the ground. Astonished, the Headmaster watched this performance from a narrow niche to which he had retreated.
Lara lifted her head, but continued to lie flat on the floor. She closed her eyes, and the air that had seemed so stale moments earlier began to move. Dumbledore's ears were filled with a low hum, the source of which he could not determine, and suddenly, all around him, the walls seemed to shift. A slight shudder, nearly imperceptible, ran through the building once. As quickly as it had begun, everything subsided, and the air in the dungeons was once again cold and lifeless.
Lara got to her feet, slowly. Her face was pale, and her hands trembled slightly. Dumbledore escorted her back to her rooms and ordered her to rest. As he made his way back to his office, however, he could not help but notice that the walls seemed straighter, the mortar between the bricks less cracked, and the glass windows were brighter and cleaner than they had been that morning.
By the time the students and staff gathered in the Great Hall for dinner, most knew about the researcher who had joined their little community without waiting for any official announcement. Dumbledore could not have planned it better himself. Perhaps he had -- even he could not be sure sometimes.