Summary: Marlene McKinnon was one of the original members of the Order of the Phoenix, who communicated, as you'll recall, by using their Patroni as messengers. In this little ficlet, a six-year-old Marlene McKinnon's enrollment in school is derailed by blood prejudice. Her father comes to the rescue, providing what will one day become the memory that fuels Marlene's Patronus Charm.
Hugh McKinnon stepped out onto the hearth rug with a broad smile on his face. Banishing all traces of soot from his brief trip through the floo, he called out, "Alice, I'm home! Thought I'd surprise you," he continued, entering the kitchen where he could hear the muted clang of cutlery. "How did it go with Mar--"
His words cut off abruptly at the sight of his daughter sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in the green and gold Harpies robes that had caused such a kerfluffle that morning. His wife, Alice, was slicing carrots into a pot of soup simmering on the stove, or rather, shredding the hapless vegetables with abrupt jabs of her wand. Not at all what he'd expected to see. Marlene was supposed to have started school today. Hugh briefly closed his eyes. Merlin, what had gone wrong in such a short time?
"Here, let me take care of that," he said, hastily drawing up a cushioned chair and gently ushering Alice into it before charming a wooden spoon to stir the soup. "What happened?" he asked softly.
"Mavis Davies took me aside for a friendly chat when I dropped Marlene off this morning," Alice said, naming the witch who ran a little school of sorts for wizarding children out of her home. Alice cast a significant glance toward Marlene and gestured with her wand. "Muffliato." Her lips were thinned to an angry line as she went on to explain, "Madam Davies and I are distant cousins on the Purkiss side of the family, it seems."
Still bemused as to the cause of the problem, Hugh stifled a chuckle; there wasn't room to swing a kneazle in the wizarding world without hitting one of his wife's cousins. She had to be related to at least two-thirds of Britain's magical population. All traces of amusement vanished at Alice's next words.
"She made comments about the Purkiss family line," she said, "and commended me for upholding the purity of our blood, unlike those witches who marry beneath their station." Alice shook her head in disgust. "She then stated her belief that the children bred from 'traitorous' unions couldn't help but be mentally inferior. Apparently she assumed I shared her views."
"Reckon Madam Davies would be gobsmacked if she found out you were married to a mudblood," Hugh quipped. Inside, he was seething. Muggle-born, he'd experienced that same kind of prejudice since entering the wizarding world at the age of eleven.
"Hugh! Language!" Alice exclaimed, darting another glance toward Marlene to make sure she hadn't overheard. "Well. I told her in no uncertain terms what I thought of her precious blood purity and her so-called school, and withdrew Marlene on the spot. I won't have any child of ours exposed to such... Such nonsense," she snorted. "Inferior, indeed!"
"Ah, Alice." Hugh stooped to drop a kiss on her forehead, warmed to the core by her loyalty. "I'm so sorry." The anger still burned; she didn't need this aggravation, not in her present delicate condition.
He conjured bowls and began to serve lunch, waving away Alice's protests. "Just you rest, now," he said, making his tone light. Marlene was oblivious as he set soup and buttered bread and a glass of milk in front of her. She was utterly absorbed in her picture book. "What should we do?" Hugh wondered. "I reckon I could ask around at work. Fawcett sends his kids to school somewhere in Devon, I think..."
"Marlene attend lessons with the Fawcett children?" Alice quirked an eyebrow. "No, that won't do. I'll just have to home school her."
Hugh had no idea what the Fawcetts--or more likely, one of the Fawcett ancestors--had ever done, that his wife would consider their children unsuitable companions for Marlene. Probably sided with the goblins in the Rebellion of 1612, he though wryly. But homeschooling! It just wasn't an option, not now. Hugh closed his eyes again, biting back an expletive. The last thing he wanted was to upset Alice.
Inspiration suddenly dawned. He leaned down and tugged one of his daughter's braids playfully. "So, Marlene, how would you like to go to Muggle school?"
She blinked, startled. "Oh, hello Daddy. What did you say?"
Grinning, he repeated the question.
Marlene frowned, thinking it over. "I don't think I need to go to school. I already know how to read," she pointed out.
"Oh, you'll learn lots of other things," he assured her. "Maths and sports and music and history. Guy Fawkes, the War of the Roses... Oh! And scientific experiments. Biology and Chemistry," he said, warming to the subject. "You'll dissect frogs to see their innards, and learn how Muggles make electricity from lightning. You'll learn how to make spit wads and shoot them through a straw," he added in a whisper.
"When can I start?"
"A Muggle school, Hugh?" Alice had her doubts. "Would she fit in with the other children, do you think? Is there even a school close by?"
Hugh shook his head. There was a primary school on the next street. And wizards think Muggles are unobservant. "There is indeed one close by. She can walk there and back," he told his wife. "And you can start as soon as you finish your soup," he told Marlene. "There's no point in waiting, the term will have started already. We'll get you there in time for afternoon lessons."
He dealt with Alice's lingering objections while Marlene bolted her lunch. Soon Hugh was walking down the street at a brisk pace, Marlene skipping by his side. They approached the big brick building from the side, stopping at the far end of the play yard. All the children were out for the noon recess. Hugh pulled Marlene into the shelter of some shrubs growing by the fence.
Her eyes were wide at the sight of so many children in one place. Questions spilled out. "What are those big things they're climbing on? Why are they dressed all the same? Did those girls charm that rope to do that? What's that game they're playing at, with only the one ball?" She looked up at Hugh, suddenly concerned. "Do you think I've missed the frogs?"
What frogs? Oh. "No. No... You probably won't even get to the frogs for a year or two," he admitted. "Er, they're dressed in uniform, that's just the way this school does it," Hugh explained, seizing upon the most pressing issue. "Let's transfigure your robes so you won't stand out too much from everyone else, shall we?"
He shielded her from sight of the yard and passed his wand over the child-sized quidditch robes she'd insisted on wearing that day, much to her mother's displeasure. Marlene made no protest as he altered them drastically, only craning her neck to try and keep the other children in sight. "Run along and join in, then," he told her once he'd gotten her properly outfitted in the universal Muggle schoolgirl standard of white blouse, navy jumper, and plaid skirt. "Make some new friends. I'll be at the gate over there to walk you home at the end of the day."
Marlene took several steps, then turned impulsively and ran back. "Good-bye, Daddy!"
Hugh knelt and hugged her. "Have fun, Marlene. Learn everything you can."
"I will. 'Bye." She planted a swift kiss on his cheek and ran off without a backward glance, braids bouncing on her shoulders.
He hadn't quite gotten the socks right, Hugh noticed belatedly. They were still green, with little golden snitches embroidered on them. He shrugged; no one would notice. He supposed he'd better locate the Head's office and get her properly registered. Merlin, the paperwork. The birth certificate from St. Mungo's hospital just might pass muster, but how to explain the medical records? Why, no, ma'am, she hasn't had a measles shot, but her inoculations against spattergroit and dragon pox are all up to date. He closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on.
As he crossed the yard, he caught sight of Marlene taking her very first turn at jumping rope. He chuckled. It would be worth the headache. She was going to fit in just fine.
