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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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14 – Week Thirty Three, Third Year
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Monday, April 2, 2001:
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms, third year girls: 06:45
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Anne started awake when she heard the buzzing noise. Not knowing what it was, she cautiously peeked from behind the bed's hangings, only to see a hand reach out and slap a circular device. Muttered cursing, and a bare leg, followed by another emerged, then a head and shoulders. Hands rubbed face, a nose twitched, and she looked at Anne, "G'Morning, I'm..." a huge yawn, "...still sleepy. Big day yesterday, wot?" Another yawn, "...way, I'm Sprink. Ready for classes?"
"No, I know not which I shall be taking," Anne admitted, climbing out of bed and groping for her slippers.
"Oh, way cool suit," Connie said, poking her head out. "Where can I get one?"
"I figure they're several thousand galleons each on a little corrupt planet thataway," Mattie said as she left the loo, pointing to the ceiling. She dried her hair with her wand, towel around her shoulders, wearing her own suit, adding "Of course, how much is your life worth? It's just less than ten light years, called Epsilon Eridani Three. We'll have to talk to Alfred about charging units; I'd hate to give mine up."
"I quite agree, they take some adaptation, but are in turn exceedingly comfortable," Anne said. "What am I to do for clothing? I have my suit, and my old clothing, naught suitable for this time."
"We'll figure s'thing, mate," Sprink said, as Ami poked her head out, mumbling, "Morning."
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"You've your old under things, blouse, a long skirt, and your wand? That's it?" Ami asked; Anne nodded.
"I only had my shoulder bag besides that," Mattie said.
Julie Dorney snorted, "Simple solution, mates. We all wear long skirts, today and every day until Anne's properly kitted out, and she's comfortable in the school uniform, the hell with any points or detentions."
Emma said, "We ought to do the blouses too. Who's best at Transfig?"
Mattie grinned, "Don't look at me, you lot know my Transfig skills."
"Your skill's making money, mate. One I wish I had," Karen said.
Mattie snorted. "Keep that conversation under your hat for a while, please. Timing's everything."
"What about making money?" Sprink asked. "'Member me, poor but honest?"
"What conversation?" Anne asked. "The one in my cabin about..." Her eyes lit up, "'Tis why Alfred wanted you Guild certified?"
"Partially, and I will tell you all what that's about," Mattie promised. "It's still early in the game, though, we're still dealing the cards."
"Oh, poker? I've always wanted to play that..." Ami Bones said.
"Play with Wayne, you'll lose your whole family estate," Karen warned. "Remember what her mum did for Halloween? Her family's the nicest lot of bloodthirsty sharks you'll ever meet, and now I'm bloody glad they're OUR sharks." Mattie turned, and gave her a big smile, then chopped her teeth.
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"Anne, Karen, a minute?" Mattie called as the others left for the common room. She turned to Anne, "Alfred tells me that I can't pay you for your time in stasis. He makes the observation that if I did, 600 years of interest would bankrupt me." Anne opened her mouth, Mattie raised her hand. "I don't think you should have nothing, so I'll do what I can. When you go shopping, it's on me. Next year's stuff, too."
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"You lot look wonderful," James told his sister as the girls ascended to the common room.
"Thank you, it's for Anne, so she won't stand out," Julie said, shaking out her floor-length skirt.
"An excellent idea," Professor Snape said as the two Bundy girls ascended with Wayne. He gazed at the girls, doffing his long black robes and overcoat, drawing his wand and blousing out his shirt sleeves and adding a ruffle to the front. "As long as the ladies see the need to don long skirts, ties are optional for Slytherin," he said. "If you receive points or detentions, or heaven help us, comments, please refer them to me." He smirked evilly.
"Gentlemen, I do believe that is an invitation to support our sister," James said, as Professor Snape motioned to Anne and Mattie. They followed him as the guys gleefully pulled off their ties, and wands came out.
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"Miss Bundy, we support each other in Slytherin," Severus said as he hung his robes and overcoat up. "Headmistress Oldridge passed on your transcripts as well as those of Miss Wayne. For now I think it best, with a bit more than two months to go in the school year, to pair the two of you up." He pulled two sheets of paper from a folder, "Your class schedules. Miss Wayne, do you object to sharing texts with Miss Bundy?" She shook her head, "Excellent. I would also cancel any plans you had for the summer, you will both need summer school in order not to be held back a year."
He leaned against his desk, "Miss Wayne, you have unfortunately already flunked Muggle Studies due to non-attendance." He held up his hand, "I have already discussed it; however, Professor Carstairs was adamant. I would suggest you speak to Miss Tonks regarding the class; she has been most colourfully verbal on it. It is your decision to attend or not for the both." He stood, and shot his cuffs, "Shall we make our entrance to the Great Hall with the others?"
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Minerva was mildly concerned; she had not seen Severus or a Slytherin student this morning. She took a sip of tea, and was surprised to see... was that Severus? Wearing ruffles and pouf sleeves? And the girls, all wearing long skirts that brushed the floor? Severus nodded to them, taking his seat, and she asked, "What is going on?"
"We are supporting Miss Bundy," he said calmly, pouring his tea. "I have declared ties optional for members of Slytherin as long as she remains woefully under-equipped. She had only her wand and the clothes on her back."
"I was thinking of something else, although it's a bloody good idea," Callista said as she transfigured her own clothes. "Take a look at Hufflepuff," she added quietly, as Severus turned to see Miss Wayne and Mr. Morton locked together, her head on his shoulder as she shook slightly. Mr. Morton awkwardly patted her shoulder as he mumbled something.
"Welcome home for the denial twins," Pomona said softly.
"Our nickname for the two of them," Callista added quietly to Harry's raised eyebrow. Members of both Hufflepuff and Slytherin were glaring at the other houses, wands out, daring them to make a sound. Miss Wayne pulled his mouth to hers; someone in Gryffindor smirked and raised his wand, and was hit with three hexes.
"I think people approve," Harry said softly, Callista adding, "The trick's getting them to admit it. Perhaps if you blokes could work on Mr. Morton, we haven't any luck."
Harry glanced at Severus, who nodded slightly, "If you lot work on Miss Wayne. A knut on who cracks first?"
Pomona nodded, "Done, although I think we've the easier one. She's old fashioned enough to be waiting on him."
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Monday, April 2, 2001:
Hogwarts, Dungeon five, Alchemy class: 09:00
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The bell rang, startling Anne, as Professor Dumbledore rose to greet them. "Welcome, welcome! A most interesting day yesterday, was it not? I must say I find the Slytherin ladies new costume most fetching." He approached Anne, "Good morning. I am sorry we did not have a chance to meet yesterday. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Miss Bundy." His eyes twinkled merrily as he bowed courteously.
"Now then, what we have been attempting to do is to recreate some of the earlier stages of transmutation. In Professor Flamel's influential work of 1882, he wrote..."
"Pardon me, sir," Anne said. "Did you say Professor Flamel?"
"Why, yes, Miss Bundy, the same fellow you knew as your Alchemical instructor. Wonderful couple, he and Perenelle finally decided to pass on... was it 1995 or '96? In any case... Miss Bundy? Miss Bundy? Oh, dear. Miss Wayne, please step aside. 'Enervate!'"
"You knew Professor Flamel?" Amy Johnson said. "The creator of the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Stones, Miss Johnson, plural," Professor Dumbledore said. "He created them in 1382, possibly in this very classroom, and in at least two varieties, a white, which transmuted into silver and a red, which transmuted into gold. Are you feeling better, Miss Bundy?"
"That's what he was working on!" she exclaimed. "The whole school wondered, and nae, 'twas in a different room he had warded, but near to this classroom. He finally made th' Stones, and I'd guess, the Elixir as well."
"Yes, they brewed their last batch in 1990. They looked to be in their mid thirties, even though he was born in 1330. I regret asking him to destroy his Stone; I believe it was the only one in existence. However, Voldemort wanted it for his own purposes. They lived in a charming little cottage in Devon."
Mattie looked at Anne, "Sir, who bought their cottage?"
"I've no idea, another couple, I believe. The Ministry should have a record. Now then, on page 682 of Master Flamel's work, he wrote..."
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The bell rang at one o'clock, the entire class of third-years immediately silent as the door slammed and locked. Anne turned, and was about to say something when she caught Mattie shaking her head.
"Thank you, Miss Wayne," Professor Snape whispered. "Miss Bundy, I would like to welcome you to third year potions. I am certain your schoolmates will fill your ears with horror stories about my class." He spun, "Believe them. You have one hundred sixty one hours in a week to gossip. I have you for the other seven, four on Monday afternoons, three on Thursday mornings. To make up for your deficiencies, I will be pairing you both with the Cortez twins for the remainder of the term. Unlike some students (he looked at the Gryffindors), they know how to study. My practice with this class is to lecture on Thursday, then brew on Monday." He stepped back, tapping his wand on the chalkboard. "The shrinking solution we discussed. Instructions on the board; please fetch a rat as your test subject when you collect your ingredients. I might add they have been checked for animagi, although if you do your potion wrong, you will kill yours instead of shrinking it. Begin."
Mattie went to copy the brewing instructions; Professor Snape always had fairly small handwriting. One of the twins went with Anne, explaining, "He doesn't store alphabetically, as some ingredients don't like that. He groups by type, then alphabetically, he also keeps the expensive and dangerous stuff under lock and ward, you'll have to ask him. Get an ounce of leech juice, which should be enough."
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Monday, April 2, 2001:
Hogwarts, Astronomy tower: 22:09
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Professor Sinistra looked up from the roll at the door knock. "Come!" she called and Miss Wayne entered.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor," she said, "I thought you might like to use this." She lifted up a small silver dome, "It's a copy of the Oan star charts, I picked it up for you as a Christmas present. Happy Christmas!" she grinned.
"Oan?" she whispered, as her first-year class broke out in whispers. Her eyes lit up as she made the connection. "What do you require?"
"It needs a fairly dark room, and a stand or table of some sort, ma'am. I apologize; it's a few months out of date."
"No matter," she said, clearing off a worktable.
Miss Wayne placed her right hand on it, and a map of the galaxy appeared. She cleared her throat as excited murmurs swept the class. "To use it, touch it, then say or think 'Command', followed by the sector and system or planet you want to study. Like this: 'Command, sector 0, Oan system'"
The blue dwarf of the Oan system appeared in the center of the room, followed by the six planets. Green data and a small scale appeared next to each. Miss Wayne walked over to the fourth planet, "This is Oa, home of the Guardians and the Green Lantern Corps." She reached up to touch it, "Command: planetary features". The yellowish planet zoomed in, rotating as they appeared to hang in the atmosphere, the data and scale changing as they watched. She grinned, "Command: show main Power Battery". Once again, it zoomed in, the Battery filling the room. Miss Wayne's voice carried, "The Battery's only about forty or fifty feet high, but it powers all sorts of things like this. What were you studying when I so rudely interrupted?"
"The planets of the solar system," Sinistra said quietly. Miss Wayne motioned to her, and whispered. She placed her hand on it, saying, "Command: sector 2814, Sol system." The display jumped, speeding outward from Oa, stars and nebulae passing as Miss Wayne stopped to hug her brother; quietly leaving as the planets hung in the classroom.
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"So how was your first day of classes?" Sprink asked Anne.
"'Twas a bit strange," she admitted. "None at all like my previous classes, or studying with Alfred."
"With Alfred, you got a better hard science education than me," Mattie commented. "Better in math, anyway. I'm only through basic trig; you've had three and four dimensional trigonometry. You're better in geology, and you've started on binary and quaternary programming. However, he couldn't teach you anything like charms or transfiguration." She sipped her coffee, "You've got a good spacer's education. How useful it is for a witch? Dunno."
"How do you know about it?" Emma asked.
"Two reasons," Mattie said. "I'm her captain, and Cassidy and I set it up with Alfred. I wish I had the chance to spend two months with him as my teacher."
"So how did it work?" Sprink asked. She waved her mug (sloshing her tea), expanding the question, "How did you get from then to here, now?"
"Ah," Anne replied. She chewed briefly, thinking, then said, "We did conspire, in February of 1380, with Headmistress Oldridge and this clever one," she nodded at Mattie, who grinned. "They wouldst transfigure a pig to resemble myself, and then we would stage an argument. In despair, I did throw myself off the girls' tower, whereupon the poor pig dropped and I was caught." She grinned at the others, "I awoke in February of this year, and did learn some of the spacer's trade, floating about in zero gee, repairing equipment, securing cargo and the like."
Looking at Mattie, she added, "I had not a chance to discuss this before, Captain, but the red-skinned wench that did'st deliver thy machinery from 1380 did simply toss it in Alfred's cargo bay. I was the one that did secure them."
"Thank you, then. I wondered how Alfred's remote was able to move them."
"One of my first lessons," Anne said, wiggling the fingers of her left hand. "I did'st crush the fingers moving the generator about. 'Twas most painful until Alfred repaired it. One must secure everything, and account for everything." She shrugged, cutting her meat, "'S'trewth, one must be careful in space, one can die most quickly."
"Merlin, I'm jealous!" Emma said. Karen glanced at Mattie, and Emma asked, "What's on with you two?"
"Patience, you'll see," Mattie said. "So you've awoken in February. What then?"
"I did take lessons from Alfred, and examined this 'Internet' with him," she said. Spearing a potato, she asked,"Might I inquire of the preoccupation with naked ladies?" James choked as he took a drink, his sister Julie pounding his back as Anne continued, "Have you naught of your own?"
"It's a guy thing," Julie told her, as her brother flushed beet red. "They like looking at pictures, some can't catch a girl, so they get the next best thing." She smiled at her brother, and patted him on the back. "You took classes, fixed things, and surfed the 'Net. Anything else?"
"I did try my hand at preparing meals," Anne replied. "Thou art correct, the menu needs much improvement. I did attempt to duplicate some of my favorites, but was only able to succeed with very basic foods, such as rice."
"It's a definite priority," Mattie said. "The best results were when we could scan molecular images of existing foods." She motioned with her fork, "When we got the ship, the menu was barely above stale bread and water. It kept you alive, but that was about it. Nothing at all like Hogwart's cooking."
"Food is a definite morale item," Karen said. "I know I'm only a so-so cook, I'd look into who the best are. Not necessarily for the froo-froo style cooking, but simple, everyday meals."
"Stick-to-your-ribs country cooking," Connie said. "Don't forget the specialty menus, like cardio and vegetarian meals." She chewed thoughtfully, then added, "You may want to have some froo-froo dishes, though. It can't hurt."
"Good point," Karen said. "From what I understand, you may want to scan individual portions; then multiply out what's needed." She took a bite, slowly chewing as she thought, "You'll want to build the library... pay a commission per item serving?"
"Only fair," Connie said. "In a way, it's what you're doing in a restaurant, paying for materials, skilled labor, and overhead as well as a profit margin." She took a bite of chicken, "If you have the elves prepare, say, a bowl of potatoes (she raised the serving spoon on the bowl in front of her), and specify this is, oh, thirty servings (it was a big bowl). You can then divide out the cost of that bowl by thirty and apply that against your food budget."
"Then, when I order a serving of potatoes on board ship," Karen said, "Which might cost, oh, thirty pence or a sickle, twenty of those pence would go for materials, five for a commission to Hogwarts, and five to the ship for the energy and other overhead." She sipped her tea, "That would work, but not as well for a roasted chicken, where a good percentage is bones and such. In the kitchen, bones are used for soup, but on board?"
"They're broken down into their component molecules, so the bones and skin are recycled." Mattie said. She sipped her coffee, "I wonder if Alfred could make a portable food scanner..."
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Tuesday, April 3, 2001:
Hogwarts, Charms class: 09:02
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"Good morning! Welcome back, Miss Wayne, and you must be Miss Anne! So very pleased to meet you, I am Professor Filius Flitwick, Charms instructor and head of Ravenclaw." He smiled, moving away, "We were discussing Hover charms and other types of levitation charms. Now, if you will turn in your books to page... "
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Tuesday, April 3, 2001:
Hogwarts, Muggle Studies: 16:02
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"This is completely unsatisfactory, Miss Tonks!" Professor Carstairs shrilled. "You have failed to demonstrate why wizarding society is superior to Muggle! I have given you what this paper deserves – a T!"
Sprink looked about to blow, but Mattie put a hand on her arm, and winked at her. "Professor Carstairs?" she asked politely.
"Yes, Miss Wayne? What is it?"
"If I understand you correctly, wizards are superior in every way to muggles, correct?"
The tiny professor preened, "Of course."
"Might I ask when was the last time you spent among muggles? As you are the professor, it must have been fairly recently."
Adelle Carstairs gazed at her warily, then answered, "I spent a week in London in 1875, and haven't seen the need to return, as nothing has changed."
"Ah, well, then you should have no problem with a wager, then."
"I don't gamble with students, it's unprofessional."
"I see. Most wise. However, would you be willing to take a leave of absence? A paid sabbatical, in order to... update your credentials?" Mattie had pulled out her Gringotts money bag, and tapped it with her wand, telling it 'Balance'.
Adelle glanced at Miss Wayne, and the money bag. She knew they were only given to prized Gringotts clients, and the very wealthy. That this girl had one... she licked her lips, especially when Miss Tonks leaned over to see the balance, and whistled. "Such a sabbatical would be expensive," she said, shifting to try to see the balance.
"Continuing education credits, a business expense," Miss Wayne shrugged. "Perhaps, oh, twelve thousand galleons would suffice for three months?" she suggested.
"Three months?"
"Why, yes," Miss Wayne smiled. "For instance, the subject might occupy a furnished London flat in Soho, with, oh, two thousand pounds for living expenses. I happen to know of a flat on Old Compton Road. She would of course need to buy fresh food, but that should prove no problem, there are greengrocers on Berwick Street, and several Tube stations within walking distance."
'Tube stations?' Adelle wondered. "What would this subject do during the day?"
"Whatever she wished, as long as she had no contact whatsoever with wizarding society or locations, and left her flat by eight am, not returning before eight pm." She smiled, "As this is a Muggle study, the subject would be prohibited from using any form of magic. She would turn over her wand to Tom at the Cauldron, and would not recover it before the end of the period. If she did perform magic, including wandless magic, or entered into wizarding areas such as the Cauldron, she would be in default of contract, and would be liable for expenses incurred, and would obviously not receive the twelve thousand galleons."
"No... no magic?"
"Of course not, it's muggle studies. Being as wizards are superior in every way to muggles, I would think that any student here, and all the professors, could get by without problems. Of course, for a Muggle Studies professor, it would be a walk in the park." Miss Wayne tented her fingers, "Do you happen to know of such a professor, Professor?"
"How would I know I would receive the gold?"
"I give you my word." The temperature dropped several degrees. "I am amenable to a bonded account; however, I would suggest a professor stop by every so often to see how you're getting on, as a neutral third party. Perhaps... Ms. Croft, if she's willing? Would she be acceptable?"
Miss Wayne had pulled several galleons from her bag, and was idly stacking them. The gold gleamed, as she pulled out more, and Adelle asked, "When?"
"The first of May?" she shrugged. "Possibly sooner?" she mused as she stacked more gold.
"Possibly, ah, April fifteenth, through July fifteenth?" 'There must be three hundred galleons there...' Adelle thought.
"It might take a week or two to arrange things," Miss Wayne said as she pulled another stack of gold from her bag. "I suggest we each put in a bit toward Ms. Croft's time, you'll do twenty pounds, I'll do four galleons, I believe that's fair." She plucked four gold coins from the stack and examined them. "In the interim, so as not to contaminate the study, I would suggest the Muggle Studies class would be private study time."
"I would still need attendance..." Adelle said weakly, and Miss Wayne nodded.
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Wednesday, April 4, 2001:
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:20
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"Lastly, I have a request from Miss Wayne, speaking for Arrowhead Investments," Minerva said. "She inquires after two things, the first if we are interested in licensing the house-elves cooking, and secondly if we might suggest names of the best cooks we know for a similar contract."
"Molly Weasley for the second, definitely," Harry said, and quite a few heads nodded. "What is the deal?"
"As the food on their ship is poor, something I myself attest to," Minerva said, "Their idea is similar to a restaurant. They would scan a pie, for instance, to determine the composition, and every time someone ordered a slice of that pie, they would pay a few sickles to the creator of that pie, in this case Hogwarts. For a roast, on the other hand, they might not pay as much, as less percentage of the entire roast is edible, as opposed to a meat pie, for instance."
Vector looked up, "Wayne's ideas are generally profitable," she mentioned. "What we might do is set up a place in the kitchens, and whenever something new is served, we enter the number of slices in that pie. We might negotiate a fixed commission per category, so vegetables are two sickles, but desserts are six, which would lead to a healthier diet."
"I don't think she'd be doing this for just one ship," Narcissa mused. "They have something larger in mind, which would indeed be profitable. By the by, thank you for mentioning vegetables, Callista, but there are other types of diets; for instance, different religions, or a vegetarian diet, or for heart or other medical conditions. What about other chefs?"
"Fleur Delacour is fairly talented," Harry thought aloud. "You've got the French angle there, including wines, there's always Tom at the Cauldron, and Florean for desserts. His triple split is..."
"It is indeed," Severus said. "I would bring up two questions: what is the maximum size this scanner can use, and didn't I hear Molly was considering a catering business?"
"I believe a small ham, perhaps a large serving bowl," Minerva replied. "Nothing like a large goose would fit, then. Perhaps Molly might be persuaded to develop these special recipes?"
"Some of the special diets can be bland and boring," Narcissa said. "That's one reason we have trouble getting patients to stay with them. If anyone can make them tasty, Molly can. I would suggest she and Fleur come to the Quidditch game on Saturday, as well as Tom and Florean. They can sit down and negotiate contracts with Arrowhead."
"We are in favour, then?" Minerva asked. "Very well, Narcissa, will you and Callista represent Hogwarts in these negotiations? Please be aware, and inform the others, that these are privy talks, at Arrowhead's request. Which account shall we use? General maintenance?"
"That sounds agreeable," Professor Flitwick said. "Severus, was Miss Anne planning on a new wand? I ask because hers is inadequate, she was struggling in yesterday's class."
"I do not know," he replied. "I will suggest she have it checked at Ollivander's." He looked about the table, "Is there anything else?"
"Only that Alastair wishes to observe the game with Miss Wayne," Minerva said. "Best wishes to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw on Saturday."
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Saturday, April 7, 2001:
Hogwarts, front lawn: 08:45
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"There you are," Karen called to Mattie as she came down the forward ramp. "I've a friend who's been looking for you," and with that, she dropped Alastair on her head. "Professor McGonagall dropped him off earlier," she added.
Mattie pushed him back so she could see, "Hello, Alastair, long time."
"A month and six hundred odd years," he replied. "I see you're well enough. How is Miss Yates?"
"Better," she said as they walked. "Alfred's gotten the left ventricle of her heart repaired, and most of the gross damage to her left lung. She's still in a medical coma, though."
"Such things shouldn't be rushed," he agreed. "Might I see this marvelous ship of yours?"
"Sure, depending on how late the Quidditch game runs, we were thinking of flying it to London for some shopping. When's the last time you were there?"
"About three hundred years," Alastair admitted as they joined several people. "I'm most interested in this 'Tube' thing."
"Just don't talk on the Tube," Kelly advised. "They're not used to talking hats."
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