Chapter 13: Seeing Green
They would have to wait until the weekend, though, for James to get them into Greenhouse Five, as James and Al had Quidditch practice nights for the rest of the week. Rose wasn't exactly sure what she expected to find in there (other than, as James so wisely said, "Plants"), but she was sure that she'd be able to figure out whatever Melisenda had been searching for, and that it would start her down the road of figuring out what, exactly, Melisenda was up to. If she had stopped to really think about this, though, perhaps she wouldn't have been so sure. But she ignored the little niggling of doubt that just getting into Greenhouse Five wouldn't do her any good. So she didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of plants, so what? She'd figure it out along the way.
Unfortunately, they wouldn't have Herbology again before the weekend, so Rose couldn't do any sort of reconnaissance. What they did have was double Defense.
Professor Jones wasn't much one for homework, believing as she did in a more hands-on approach, so Rose often found herself underestimating the difficulty of the class. It was particularly easy to make that mistake this year, as they were paired with Hufflepuff. It's not that the second year Hufflepuffs weren't talented – Leo Spink was downright fierce for someone so small, and he had one of the strongest Tickling Charms in the class – it was more that they were too nice to be aggressive. While their hard work was paying off in Flitwick's classes, a lot of Professor Jones's defensive exercises relied on having the students imitating specific magical creatures or pretending to attack each other, and it was clear on the Hufflepuff side of the room that their hearts just weren't in it. And it wasn't as though they were learning particularly dangerous spells! The worst they'd done so far was Petrificus Totalus.
Today, though, was different.
"Wands out, books away," Professor Jones said, as usual. "But you won't be in attacking lines today, and no one is going to have to pretend to be a kappa." Rose, grinning, saw Leo giving a very relieved look to Sarah Finch-Fletchey. She looked at Al questioningly. He shrugged.
"For the next couple of weeks," Professor Jones continued, "We'll be focusing on detection and stealth. We're going to start today on a series of spells called the Verdimillious spells. Can anyone tell me what this family of spells does?"
Rose had never heard of them.
Scorpius's hand shot into the air. His was the only one. "They can help detect objects hidden by Dark Magic."
"Very, good, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Gryffindor. Ten if you can tell me another use."
"It creates a lot of green sparks. I suppose those could be used offensively?"
"Yes indeed," said Professor Jones, "Particularly if you find yourself in a dark room. The green sparks can also be gathered and thrown using a different wand movement, which we will review. Now," she continued, pacing, "There are three variations of this spell, the first of which is the simplest, and the least powerful. We'll start there. Since it would be hard to detect an object hidden by Dark Magic without having an object hidden by Dark Magic, I will tell you that there is one such object in this room. Twenty points to whoever casts the Verdimillious spell that identifies it first.
"You'll be using this wand motion," she said, slashing her wand forward, "To practice with the green sparks. Once you've got that, you can move on to this motion," here, she waved her wand in a circular motion overhead, and then used a throwing motion as though she were tossing a lasso. "That should create an orb of green energy that you can throw. When it explodes successfully, it will illuminate the object I have hidden using Dark Magic.
"Spread out, everyone. The sparks are hot, and you'll get burned if you're hit. The incantation is Verdimillious."
As the students got themselves into position and practiced their wand movements, Rose sidled over to Scorpius. "Your dad have a lot of objects hidden by Dark Magic around, Malfoy?" she said, only half-joking.
"Define 'a lot'," Scorpius said with a smirk. Rose wasn't sure how seriously to take that, but Al seemed to think it was very funny.
"You trying to get Malfoy's father arrested, Weasley?" Melisenda asked snidely. Rose just rolled her eyes. "Gonna report him to get a little extra attention from Mummy?"
"Yes, Wilkes, that's exactly what I'm planning to do," Rose said acidly, bringing her wand down and sending a trail of green sparks dangerously close to Melisenda's robes. "Whoops," she said, smiling sweetly.
"Very good, Miss Weasley! Five points to Gryffindor!" Professor Jones called.
Melisenda huffed and turned her back, edging further away from where Rose was practicing. In a very unusual move for her, she looked as though she were taking this practice seriously, working through the arm movements over and over with precision and care. Rose shook her head. She couldn't be distracted by Melisenda right now. It's not as though she were going to disappear off somewhere during class.
Rose moved her wand slowly overhead, concentrating on keeping the spell consistent as the flow of green sparks from her wand joined their brethren in a large green orb just above her. It really was a beautiful spell. The way the sparks flowed around each other was almost liquid. She was nearly ready to throw it – she'd be the first one to do this spell successfully, and then –
The room went dark. Someone else had thrown a successful spell, and their green orb crashed, or more cascaded, against the floor nearly at Rose's feet. Flames sparked out from the impact site and fizzled, except for a steady stream that seemed to be drawn over to one particular corner of the room. They flittered, moth-like, to one of the drawers in Professor Jones's seldom-used desk, drawn to it as though it were magnetic. The sparks seemed to shake the drawer itself, and it stood out in stark relief to the darkness that had engulfed the rest of the room. Every student in the room had stopped their casting and was staring as the desk drawer as it clattered and shook.
"Finite," Professor Jones said quietly, and the light in the rest of the room was restored. The desk stopped shaking. "Very good, Mr. Potter," she said, clapping a fairly surprised Al on the back. "Twenty points to Gryffindor, and I'll be letting your father know, of course." Al went bright red.
. . .
"Heard you nailed the Verdimillious Charm in Defense," James said reproachfully when they met up, as though Al was proving to be a disappointment by excelling in class. "Next thing you know, they'll have you running the old DA."
"DA?" Al asked, "You mean like Dumbledore's –"
"I'm not serious, Albus. It's just a myth, you know, that there's still a secret DA society at Hogwarts. I think Fred's been telling people . . . it's not really true."
"So why would I be runni – "
"I was joking, you walnut. Merlin's pants, I have to explain everything . . ."
The boys kept bickering up ahead as Rose and Scorpius held back slightly. Scorpius's eyes followed the flow of the banter back and forth; it looked as though he were a spectator of some kind of Muggle sports game. Rose narrowed her eyes and huffed at how loud they were being. Didn't the Potters know anything about sneaking? Surely James should have picked up some best practices by now, one of which had to be that if one were to be sneaking around the Great Hall well after dinner when one was technically supposed to be in either the common room or the library, it was probably best to not be fighting with one's brother at volume.
The boys were bickering so loudly that they almost walked straight into unobtrusive little Mr. Pelfer – and would have, too, if Callister hadn't gotten there first. It was an incredible stroke of luck that, right as they were about to turn the corner where Pelfer must have been cleaning, Callister's voice rang out.
"Mr. Pelfer," he said sharply, and Al gasped quietly as James pulled him aside. Rose and Scorpius pressed themselves up against the wall next to them, huddling behind a statue of a hippogriff; it was fortunate all of them were fairly small. As it was, Rose was practically standing on Scorpius's toes. "Mr. Pelfer," Callister said again, "I've been looking for you."
"Yes, mmhmm, Professor?" Pelfer said. Rose didn't think she'd ever heard him speak before. He had the kind of voice she imagined a mole would have if it could talk – thin and underused, the edges of his words drawn out as though they were leaking into the silence.
"I wanted to discuss the work you've been doing near the Astronomy tower," Callister said. "I can't say I'm pleased with the markings on the walls." Al waggled his eyebrows at Rose, and James rolled his eyes. It was typical of Callister, wanting to find fault with everyone.
"Markings, hmmm? I don't believe I've noticed any markings."
"You can stop with the charade, Phineas. I know it's you who's been marking up the walls, and I know why."
There was a heavy silence. Rose longed to crane her neck just around the corner, but that was out of the question.
"I will make a priority of clearing the marks, mmhmmm, Professor," Pelfer said after a long minute. "If you wouldn't mind showing me."
Footsteps and voices receded down the hallway, and after a long moment of listening to ensure they wouldn't come back, James let out an enormous sigh.
"Callister's the worst to run into after-hours," he said, "Lucky for us he got to Pelfer first."
"Do you have a lot of run-ins with professors after hours?" Scorpius asked, managing to keep a straight face.
"Once or twice," James said flippantly. He grinned. "But not this time."
"Have any of you noticed any markings on the walls near the Astronomy tower?" Rose asked curiously.
"It's probably nothing," James said, "You know Callister always has his robes in a twist over nothing."
"'Nothing' like the time you snuck into the Transfiguration classroom and turned all of his teapots into bats?" Al asked.
"I was practicing," James retorted.
"I heard the next morning when he got in there was a layer of –"
"Aaaaanyways," James said loudly, "We should be going now. No telling when they'll be back."
From their spot in the alcove, it was just down a hallway towards the Great Hall, then practically a few steps to the front doors of the castle. No one stopped them as they strode purposefully towards the door; no one was even around to see them. Lucky this time, Rose thought to herself. She wondered for a brief moment why the front doors were so seldom locked – wouldn't it be easier to ensure that no one was sneaking into the Forbidden Forest if they were? – but they gave easily when pushed, and then the four of them were outside in the now-decidedly-cold fall air.
James didn't bother taking a roundabout way to the Greenhouses, walking straight across the lawn. He was in plain sight if anyone in the castle had been bothering to look out a few select windows, but he seemed to have no concerns about getting caught. Since he'd done this far more than Rose, Al, or Scorpius, they followed suit.
Greenhouse Five looked essentially identical to the other greenhouses. There was nothing particularly special about it; it was built of the same sturdy, probably enchanted, pane glass as the others. It was similarly boxy, and the windows were similarly fogged with something opalescent which made it difficult to see inside. There was no lock on the door, but Rose had expected that. Simple locks weren't much use at a school for magic. If Headmistress Sprout wanted people to stay out, she'd have had to spell the door, or have Professor Longbottom do it.
James brought out his wand and, curiously, licked his finger and, after rubbing the tip of his wand, drew some sort of symbol on the door.
"Gross," Rose said quietly.
"Best Louis and I can figure is that the only alternative is blood," James said flatly, "You volunteering, Weasley?"
Rose gulped. "I am not."
"This is a pretty serious spell," Al said.
"It is," James agreed, tapping his wand in two seemingly specific places to either side of the door before jabbing it into the doorknob.
Nothing happened.
"Er," said Al helpfully.
"Hold it, hold it, let me try it again," James huffed. He ran through the sequence again, this time almost spitting on his wand to draw the symbol on the door. He tapped his wand on either side of the door and muttered some kind of spell. He waved the tip of his wand in the air. At the end of the whole process, he jabbed his wand into the doorknob again. And again, nothing.
James turned, shrugging. "I don't know what to tell you," he said, "It worked just this week."
Then the doorknob turned of its own accord, and the door to Greenhouse Five swung towards them. Rose, Al, and Scorpius skittered backwards.
A dark figure loomed from the doorway, and Rose almost ran for it, but then the figure stepped into the dim light from the castle and became both less forbidding and far more likely to give them detention.
Professor Longbottom gave James a long look before speaking. "Did you consider, Mr. Potter," he said, "That perhaps we added an alert spell to the door, so we'd know when it was opened without permission and could change the entry spell?"
James's mouth opened and closed several times. He failed to make any actual noises.
Professor Longbottom seemed to notice that James wasn't alone. He nodded gravely at the second years. "Hello, other Mr. Potter, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. Incidentally, the Headmistress would like to see the three of you."
"N . . . now?" Rose asked.
"No time like the present, Rose. I will, of course, happily escort you to her office. It's on the way to mine. And I am very interested in hearing from the other Mr. Potter why he was so determined to break into my greenhouse not once, but twice. Once is mischief," he added darkly, "Twice means a plan."
James blanched and attempted to look indignant at the same time. His eyes shifted back and forth between Al and Professor Longbottom. If Rose knew anything about James, it was that the look on his face meant he was furiously trying to think up a way to get himself out of trouble. And if he could also get Al into trouble, so much the better.
Uncle Neville was, apparently, also very familiar with the look on James's face. He rolled his eyes slightly. "Oh, James," he sighed, "I'd really like to stop giving you detentions, you know."
James rallied a bit. "You don't have to give me detention, you know, Un – Professor Longbottom."
Uncle Neville quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't I?" he asked, ushering all of them towards the castle.
It seemed like it was a very long walk to Headmistress Sprout's office, made only slightly better by the fact that it appeared to Rose that she, Al, and Scorpius were going to be considered innocent bystanders in the attempt to break into Greenhouse Five. James had tried briefly to convince Professor Longbottom that it had, in fact, been all their idea – which was the truth, in fairness – but he was having none of it. In a moment of nobility, Al had actually tried to chime in for James (even though Scorpius elbowed him sharply), but Professor Longbottom had just concluded that James had probably threatened Al, and ignored any future attempts.
Rose did feel a little badly for James, but the worst that was going to happen to him was detention with Uncle Neville, and he had unleashed one of the Weasley Wizarding Wheeze's Weather in a Bottles in her closet last summer, so she kept her silence.
On the other hand, Rose was growing increasingly worried about why Headmistress Sprout wanted to see she, Al, and Scorpius. Was it something to do with Melisenda or their dealings with Wendy? Did she know what Melisenda was up to already? She seemed to be well-informed of the goings-on of the castle. Did the Headmistress know about all their sneaking around this year – or last year?
It was infuriating not to be able to share her fears with Al and Scorpius, but there was nothing for it. Professor Longbottom led them inexorably towards the heart of the castle, with a sullen James at his side.
The look on James's face was thunderous by the time they arrived at a nondescript gargoyle (to the extent that there could be a nondescript gargoyle – all gargoyles tended to be noticeable, but there was a fair few at Hogwarts, and this one had no distinguishing features beyond the standard ugliness of its face) on the third floor. Professor Longbottom came to a halt in front of it and stood awkwardly.
"Blast," he muttered, "I think I've forgotten the password. It was something about plants . . ."
Rose, Al, and Scorpius looked at each other, mostly to avoid making eye contact with James.
"Er, sorry," continued Professor Longbottom, apparently addressing the gargoyle, "She won't let me write down the passwords. At least, not since third year. I think it was perhaps . . . Wiggentree?"
The gargoyle nodded briskly and stepped aside, revealing a staircase that spiraled up a hidden alcove. Uncle Neville ushered Rose, Al, and Scorpius onto the staircase.
"Up you go," he said, "Knock at the top and the Headmistress will let you in. James and I have some things to discuss." At this point, the look on James's face could have fried an egg at thirty paces. Rose turned and hurried up the staircase behind Al, with Scorpius trailing just slightly behind her. Whatever Headmistress Sprout wanted to see them about, there was no getting away from it now. And the Headmistress was, in the short term at least, the lesser of two evils when compared to the retribution James's scowl promised.
Al was at the top of the staircase first. He looked around questioningly at Rose and Scorpius, trotting up behind him. Rose nodded tentatively, and Al visibly steeled himself before he knocked on the wood and iron door.
Nothing happened.
Al knocked again, and there was what sounded like a small explosion from beyond the door.
"Er . . . Headmistress Sprout?" Al called tentatively. He looked back at Rose and nodded to her. "Maybe you should go in first, Rose. She likes you more."
"What? Why would you think that?"
"Your marks are better than mine."
"So are Malfoy's."
"I know! I was going to go in last and – "
The door opened, and Al fell silent.
Rose had never really seen Headmistress Sprout up close, now that she thought about it. She was not all that much taller than Rose herself was, with grey, tightly curled hair that frizzed around her head in a wispy halo, despite the Headmistress's efforts to restrain most of it in a knot at the back of her head. She wore heavy robes of a deep green color and a matching hat. The robes were pristinely clean, which Rose only noted because her boots, peeking out from underneath them, looked incongruously as though she'd spent the day trudging through dragon dung. There was rather a lot of dirt under her fingernails.
Her deep hazel eyes flitted between the three of them without recognition for a moment, but then all at once she cried, "Oh! It's you!" and ushered them in.
Rose didn't know what she had expected the office of the Headmistress of Hogwarts to look like, but Headmistress Sprout's office did not look like it. Rose had the impression for a moment that she'd stepped into a highly organized forest. Everything was done in earth-tones or green, from the plush green carpeting to the brown upholstery on the carved chairs, to the admixture of rough-hewn wooden tables, strewn with books. And plants. Every surface that was not covered in books or loose parchment was covered in plants. Some of the books and stacks of loose parchment also had plants on top of them. Rare plants that Rose didn't recognize, even by sight from a textbook. Common plants – Rose could swear that there was potted grass over in the far corner. And everything in between. In all states of growth and flowering and wilting. The room smelled like one of the greenhouses.
Rose remembered abruptly that she was nervous about this. Her fingers itched to do piano scales.
"Come in, come in, sit down," the Headmistress was saying. She moved pots off some of the chairs so they could and bustled around behind her desk, which looked as though it were made of gnarled oak. "I've been terribly busy, pardon the mess," she said, "When it gets cold all of my plants have to come indoors.
"Right," she continued, folding her hands atop a stack of parchment, "So. Potter, Weasley, Malfoy. What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"Er –" said Al. It was a bit intimidating, particularly with the portraits of previous Hogwarts headmasters staring down at them from behind Headmistress Sprout. Rose only recognized by sight Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, who were both asleep, but there were easily a score of other portraits.
"I did not promise James Potter any sort of Dark Magic object," Scorpius said immediately. One of the portraits snorted softly, and Sprout waved her hand at it dismissively.
"That's . . . good, Mr. Malfoy," the Headmistress replied, leveling her eyes at Scorpius intently. The silence stretched.
"We don't really know why we're here, Headmistress," Rose said in a rush, nerves getting the best of her. "We were . . . er . . . we were outside, and we ran into Professor Longbottom, and he just said you wanted to see us."
"Ah," the Headmistress said. She looked between the three of them for a moment. "I'm sure you've heard that your parents let me know what happened at the end of last year, Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley?"
Rose had the distinct feeling that there was a "Finally!" at the end of that sentence that the Headmistress had held back with great difficulty. Aha! she thought, though not with relief. They could still be in considerable trouble. She and Al nodded.
"Of course, I found it alarming that three students, first years no less, were able to leave the grounds and put themselves in such great danger."
Nervous or not, Rose was about to protest that, in fact, they were already in great danger even in the school, given that Marduin had been able to sneak in practically the whole year, but Headmistress Sprout raised her hand.
"I know," she continued, "That you were already in danger, even inside the castle. I'd like to say this isn't something that happens a lot at Hogwarts. The last time this castle was unsafe for students was . . . well, was when your parents were here." The Headmistress shifted a bit, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't call you into my office because you're in trouble. I think it wouldn't be fair for me to punish you this year for what happened last year," (Al heaved an obvious sigh of relief), "and I understand that what you went through was already terribly upsetting. But I did want to apologize."
"To what?" Al asked incredulously. Rose blinked. She had been certain they were about to be in trouble, which had seemed awfully unfair, given that they were practically nearly halfway through a new school year.
Headmistress Sprout sighed. "It should not have been so easy for Davies to bring an intruder into Hogwarts," she said. She brushed some of the coarse silver hair out of her face. "I'm going to be very honest with you three, now," she said seriously, "And I need to know that you won't share this with the other students. I think I can trust you. After all, it's a pretty big secret you kept all this past year."
Rose nodded vigorously. She could see Al nodding like a bobblehead on one side of her, and Scorpius jerking his head minutely up and down to the other.
Headmistress Sprout sighed. "The castle's defenses are many, and they were strengthened again after the War. But defensive spells require constant upkeep. There were spells that were tethered to Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmistress McGonagall that may have died with them. It is past time that the spells on the castle were renewed, and for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you were in danger because we've felt a little too safe these past few years."
"Have you fixed the spells?" Rose asked quietly.
"We have to figure out what spells are missing, first," Professor Sprout said. "And for that, I need your help. I need you to tell me," She continued, leaning forward, "Exactly what happened last year."
"Didn't our parents tell you?" Al asked.
"Your parents weren't there. It's important that I get as much information as possible from you three. I need you to tell me everything. As much as you can remember. Any detail may be important."
Rose, Al, and Scorpius looked at each other. And then they began.
Author's Note: Listen, I'm not really sure how defensive wards are "supposed" to work, but let's just say that it would make a ton of sense to me if the untimely death of one Hogwarts Headmaster followed in short order by the death of his successor (Dumbledore and then Snape) left a bit of a vacuum in terms of the typical protocols. I have every faith that Minerva McGonagall (who is, after all, an extremely competent woman after my own heart) would have done her absolute best to pick up the pieces, but I have this hilarious vision of her showing up to her first day as Headmistress and having the sudden realization that, as magnificent as her predecessors may have been in terms of magical prowess, not a single one of them had the logistical foresight necessary to put in place such mundane practices as "documentation" or "on/offboarding procedures."
On a fittingly logistical note - I will be taking a brief hiatus from posting, only for a couple of weeks at most. I've got some real-life stuff coming up that is going to make it difficult to keep a posting schedule, but when that's done, I'll be back! The next chapter has already been written, so it's definitely happening, just a matter of when. I would estimate sometime mid-November is when I'll be able to resume, but you can follow the story if you want an update when there's a new post! In the meantime, thank you for reading, and thank you particularly to those who have left reviews! Dracarot - "Don't do hubris kids!" made me actually snort out loud.
Love always, bbh