If you've been around for any length of time, you already know this, but hi, I'm Cassie, Neville Longbottom is my favorite, and that's why the OC child I decided to give him has the longest chapter in this project. If you're surprised, you really shouldn't be.
Enjoy!
Maddie Longbottom was a true child of Hogwarts.
She was born there, twenty minutes into the Farewell Feast of her father's thirteenth year of teaching. He had burst through the doors of the Great Hall shouting about having a daughter on the heels of the Headmistress's farewell address. He'd been slightly embarrassed, but it hadn't come close to matching his pride and excitement, and the whole school had cheered for him and Hannah.
Her father had taught lessons with her strapped to his back, calmly sending Freezing spells over his shoulder when the Venomous Tentacula got too close to her grasping hands, and admonishing his students to pay more attention to his lectures and their Leaping Toadstools and less to the admittedly adorable infant waving hello to them as he made his rounds through the greenhouse.
She had taken her first toddling steps across the floor of her father's castle office, and then, being an adventurous one-year-old, had made her first break for freedom down the fourth floor corridor of the southwest tower between classes one Wednesday morning and was just barely scooped to safety by her mother as the bell rang to signal the lunch hour.
She grew up in the halls of the castle, as constant and familiar a presence to the students as the suits of armor, ghosts, and trick staircases. As a toddler, she had no shortage of eager and enthusiastic babysitters. As a young child, she had no shortage of willing and enthusiastic teachers and tutors, picking up whenever her insatiable curiosity exhausted her parents' wells of knowledge.
She was Hogwarts' mascot. Every professor was an aunt or uncle; every student a best friend and big sibling. She knew every nook and cranny, every secret that Hogwarts had to offer. By the age of seven, her parents gave her the freedom of the castle and the trust to go where she wanted when she wanted, so long as she showed up for morning lessons with Mum, evening lessons with Dad, and every meal, and as long as she promised to wear the small charm that would alert her parents to her location if she ventured somewhere dangerous like the Forest or an off-limits Greenhouse or, strangely, one specific corridor on the third floor.
It became relatively commonplace to see a ghostly lion or badger pacing the halls or poking their heads into classroom, or trailing a tiny, sandy-haired girl with a sheepish expression back to her parents, with some sort of explanation about how she'd gotten caught up listening to Aunt Ellie's explanation of the Muggle internet, or watching Uncle Graham brew a complicated potion, or helping Madam Pince (nearing 100, perpetually postponing retirement, and absolutely refusing to be referred to as Aunt anything) reshelve materials in the library.
Hogwarts was her home, the place she loved best in all the world. Things other people might have seen as chores - polishing broomsticks for flying lessons, grooming animals for Care of Magical Creatures, weeding the greenhouses under the watchful eye of her father - she did with an infectious grin and a willing heart, just happy to be part of the life of the castle. She couldn't wait to be a student in her own right.
About a month before her eleventh birthday, she breezed into her family's quarters to change for dinner. She'd been helping Hagrid wrangle some nifflers, and her clothes were covered in dirt. She was expecting her parents to be in the Great Hall already, so she stopped short at the sight of them side by side in the sitting room, deep in conversation with her Uncle Harry.
It was clear she'd interrupted something important. They all looked so drawn and serious that her first thought was that she was in trouble. But no, she wracked her brain, and she hadn't done anything out of bounds recently. And they looked more sad than angry, so her second thought was that someone was hurt.
"What's going on?" she asked at once. "Why do you look so upset? Why's Uncle Harry here?"
"Uncle Harry is on his way out," Uncle Harry said, standing. "Neville, Hannah, let me know if you need anything, okay?"
He ruffled her hair on the way out, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. Something was off. "What's going on?" she asked her parents again when Uncle Harry had left.
Her parents exchanged a look, and then her dad said, "Maddie, there's something important your Mum and I need to talk to you about."
Her dread increased. "Is grandpa okay?" she asked, because that was the only answer her brain could come up with. Dad had looked this way when he'd told her that great-grandmother Augusta had passed away a few years ago. She recognized the look now, the someone has died look, and it put angry butterflies in her stomach and made it hard to breathe.
Her mother tried to smile, to look reassuring. "Grandpa is fine," she said. "Everyone's okay, Maddie, but we found something out today that we need to share with you." And she extended a hand, beckoning Maddie to the settee. Maddie didn't understand why, but she didn't want to go. She couldn't shake the feeling that if she went to her parents, she was going to step into a completely different world.
"I was just going to change for dinner," she said. "I've got dirt all over me. I was helping Hagrid."
"You can change first, if you like," her dad said, but Maddie didn't really want to. She didn't want to go to her room and put on clean clothes for bad news, and she didn't want to cross the threshold into the "after" part of whatever she stood on the cusp of. She just wanted this moment, whatever it was, to not be happening. She wanted her parents to stop looking so distraught. She wanted to move forward, with her birthday and her Hogwarts letter and her schooling and her whole life to happen exactly as she'd imagined it.
She crossed the room and sat awkwardly opposite her parents on the ottoman.
"Maddie," her dad said, and then stopped. He looked like he couldn't get any words out. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. He looked like he couldn't look at her, and that-
"Daddy?" she asked, and she sounded scared and young. He took a deep, shuddering breath and met her eye.
"Sweetheart," he said, "there's no easy way to tell you this. There's no way to say it that isn't going to hurt."
"We love you, Maddie," her mother said then. "We always will, no matter what. Nothing can change that."
She was definitely scared now. "What's going on?" she demanded now, looking at both of them in turn. Her dad closed his eyes and shook his head, and when he opened his eyes again, he was looking at her mother.
"I can't," he said in a voice that was rough and choked. Maddie's mum reached out and took his hand and held it, hard.
Maddie stood up, too fast. The ottoman went toppling over behind her, but she didn't care. They were scaring her. "Tell me what's going on!" she demanded.
"Maddie love," her mum said, reaching out and taking her hand. "Your Uncle Harry had an appointment yesterday at the Ministry. To see the Record of Magical Births for your birth year. He wanted to see if his cousin's daughter's name was listed there. When we found out he was going, we asked him to look for someone else's name as well."
Dread sat heavy in her stomach now and spread like ice water through her veins. "Whose name?" she whispered. She didn't want to ask the question, but she had to, because if she didn't, how else would she know that she was being ridiculous, jumping to conclusions, thinking the worst of this conversation with no real evidence?
But her mother's eyes filled with tears now, and she let go of Maddie's dad's hand to reach up and wrap both of her hands around Maddie's. "Maddie, sweetheart-"
"Whose name?" she demanded. Her mother looked at her like the world had ended.
"Your name," she whispered in a voice Maddie could barely hear. "We asked him to look for your name, Maddie."
Maddie snatched her hand away. "No," she said, hard and firm.
"I'm so sorry," her mother whispered, and Maddie couldn't-
"No," she yelled, practically interrupting. "I-" She looked back and forth between her parents, her mother looking at her with heartbreak in her eyes, and her father whose eyes were still closed. "You're wrong!" she shouted, panic lining every word. "Uncle Harry is wrong. My name is there, it has to be!"
"It isn't." Her father's voice was quiet, but final, and he looked at her now, pain in his face and tears in his eyes. "It isn't there, Maddie. I'm so sorry, but you-" He closed his eyes again. "You don't have any magic."
"Stop it," she said. She started shaking her head and couldn't stop. "Both of you, just stop it. Stop lying to me! I have- I have all the magic in the world, I have Hogwarts, I-"
"Maddie-" Her mother reached for her, but Maddie was already backing away.
"No!" she yelled. "It's not true, it can't be true, it- just-"
She turned, and ran, leaving both of them behind.
She didn't know where she was running. She just knew that she need to get away and she needed to be alone. She thought about going to the Astronomy Tower or the kitchens or any other of one of her hideouts. But the thought that she might run into another person was terrifying, and the thought that her parents might find her in minutes was even worse. So she ran without thinking through the mostly deserted halls, and she changed direction whenever she thought she heard another person coming.
When she couldn't run anymore, when her legs felt like they were about to give out, and she had no idea where she was, she staggered into a dusty classroom being used mostly for storage, overcrowded with desks and tables and chairs, and squeezed herself into a shadowy corner.
She was shaking and numb and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She didn't want to cry, because if she cried, then it was real. If she cried, it meant that she accepted that she was magicless, that she would never have Hogwarts.
She knew that most young witches and wizards made magic happen by accident when they were angry or upset, and all she could think was that she had never been this angry or upset. So she tried to channel it, tried to push something out, and make something happen-
But nothing did. And the quiet in the room was too much, and her thoughts were too oppressive. She just kept hearing her mother's I'm so sorry and her father's It isn't there. She could feel the first sob building in her chest, and she tried to hold it in, she really did. But it was too much for her. It overwhelmed her, first one, then another, and then she couldn't hold anything back anymore. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face and sobbed and sobbed.
She had no idea how long she was there. Long enough that her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen and sore. Long enough that she was exhausted and spent, and when someone picked her up and cradled her gently, she didn't resist. She didn't wonder how he'd found her. She just let her father hold her while she sobbed weakly into his chest. He stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth until she quieted. "Better?" he asked softly, and she shook her head.
"No," she whispered, but she sat up and swiped at her cheeks. "How did you find me?" Her voice was rough and ragged.
"Lily loaned me the Map," he said. "Were you aiming for the southeast storage tower?"
She shook her head. "No. I just wanted to disappear." A few more tears leaked down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I yelled and ran away."
Gentle fingers found her face and tipped it up so she was looking at him instead of her shoes. "You don't owe me an apology," he said earnestly. "I owe you one, Maddie. I didn't expect Harry to come today, and I didn't expect you to come back before dinner. He'd just told us, and I hadn't had time to process everything. I know I didn't react well. I know that made it harder for you. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I need you to listen to me now. Are you listening?" She nodded, chin quivering.
"You are my daughter, and I love you. Nothing you could ever do, nothing you could ever be, could ever, ever change that. I do not care, not for one second, how much magic you have. Nor does Mum. Do you understand? You are loved, and you matter, and no amount of magic changes any of that."
She didn't know how he just knew, somehow, what she needed to hear. His words, so full of love and affirmation and intensity, brought her to the edge again and she had to look away. "You aren't disappointed?" she asked in a small, tiny voice.
"Never," he whispered fiercely. "And I'm so sorry if it seemed like I was. I promise, Maddie, that if I seemed disappointed, it was only because I know how badly you want this. It was only because I'm your father, and I'm supposed to be able to give you everything you want. But I can't give you this, and it's not fair, that someone who loves magic so much, is denied it like this. If I'm disappointed, it's on your behalf, and for no other reason."
His voice broke on the last words, and he was crying long before the end of his speech, but then, so was she. Not because of pain or anger or shame or fear. But because of how clearly he meant this. How clearly and forcefully he loved her. "I would give you every scrap of magic I have, if I could," he whispered. "I would give it all to you in a heartbeat, Maddie."
"How did you know?" she asked in a small voice. "You wouldn't have asked Uncle Harry to- if you hadn't thought that I didn't . . . How did you know?"
She felt her father sigh. "I've wondered for a while," he said quietly. "But I was never sure, because there is so much magic here. There's so much magic around you, constantly. So I thought that maybe I was just missing it, the moments when came straight from you. But the more I watched, the more I thought that I would have seen something. So I asked Harry to check. I was still hoping I was wrong until he came through the door and I saw his face."
They sat there together, in silence, until the sky outside grew dark, and eventually her father stood and offered her his hand. "Come on," he said gently. "We can't hide in here forever." So she let him pull her to her feet, but she stayed rooted to the spot.
"I don't want to leave Hogwarts," she said in a rush. He knelt in front of her and took her hand. She was small enough that they were more or less eye-level.
"We would never make you do that," he told her. "This is your home, as long as you claim it. No one can take Hogwarts from you, Maddie."
"Then what happens now?" she asked, feeling the tears brimming up again. She did her best to push them away. She was awfully tired of crying. Her dad was quiet for a long moment, his focus dropping to the floor and the tiniest frown line appearing between his eyes. Finally, he looked at her again.
"Maddie . . . I have an idea. It's not fully formed yet, and I don't know if it will even work. But . . ." He shook his head. "I can't give you magic of your own. But if there was a way for me to give you this school, if there was a way I could get them to let you still study here as a student, would you want me to try?"
She frowned. "But . . . you have to have magic to be a student here. It's a school for learning magic."
He shook his head, the hint of a smile on his face. "It's a school for learning about magic," he corrected softly. "I think you can be a student here whether or not you can cast a spell. But I would have to convince other people that that's true. I don't want to do that if it's not what you want."
She looked down and pressed her lips together and thought hard about what he was asking. Then she looked back up at him, fire in her eyes and said, "I want you to try. And I want to help."
For three months, they prepared. And everyone wanted to help. As soon as the students were gone for the summer, the professors all came together to help with her dad's plan. Uncle Flitwick, Aunt Demelza, and all the other core subject professors put her through tests and evaluations to judge how much of the first year curriculum she already knew. Uncle Terry and Aunt Margaret worked with her Dad to gather facts and statistics that would help them make their case. Her mum helped Maddie write out her statement and story. She practiced it over and over until she knew it by heart.
At the end of July, her dad returned to the castle from a Very Important Meeting and announced, "August 6th. We have a meeting with the Board of Governors."
The Hogwarts Board of Governors meeting on August 6th had triple the normal attendance. The entire teaching staff of Hogwarts was there, seated in the last two rows. Harry Potter was even there, his presence weighty and obvious as he stood in the back.
Maddie sat between her parents as the meeting dragged on and on, trying not to fidget it let her nerves get the best of her. She fiddled with the edge of her skirt until her mother took her hand.
Finally, after eons of other business, the Chair of the Board of Governors, Governor Hornby, announced, "We will now hear petitions for admission to Hogwarts for the upcoming school year," and Maddie's father gave her hand a squeeze.
There were a few other petitions to be heard. One for a student whose birthday fell in early September, but whose parents wanted him to be admitted a year early. Two for students who were born elsewhere and had moved to England after. None of the other potential students were present, and Maddie couldn't imagine what that felt like, being so sure of the outcome that you didn't feel the need to come to the hearing.
As the French-born student's petition was approved - publically! She hadn't realized the vote would be made publically - her father turned slightly to look at her. She pushed down her nerves and met his gaze.
"Here goes nothing," he whispered, squeezed her hand, and stood to approach the line of Governors, all seated in a row in front of them all, like a courtroom with twelve judges.
"Your name," the Governor Hornby said in a bored tone.
"Professor Neville Longbottom," her father said.
"And the petitioning student's name?"
"Madeline Poppy Longbottom."
"Reason why a place at Hogwarts has not already been offered?"
His tone of voice was driving Maddie mad. This was her life, her future he was preparing to determine! The least he could do was attempt to sound interested.
"At her birth, Madeline's level of magic was not high enough to register with the Quill of Magical Record." That had been Madame Pomfrey's addition. Say she's a Squib, and they'll dismiss you out of hand, she'd warned. Give them the technical explanation.
And it worked. It took the Governors, most of them, a moment to work out what he'd meant. Maddie could pinpoint the moment when Governor Hornby figured it out. His eyes snapped to her father and he removed in spectacles in one fluid motion. "She's a Squib?" he demanded, and as soon as he said the word, the chamber broke out in whispers. Maddie could feel her cheeks burning, and she dropped her head.
"Chin up," her mother whispered at her side, with a squeeze of her hand. Maddie did her best to comply.
"To use the vernacular, yes," her father said evenly.
"A Squib has never before been admitted to Hogwarts School," Governor Hornby said with something like a sneer. Maddie could feel anger and shame seeping through her, but her father remained cool and collected.
"Hence the petition," he said simply. "If I may continue with it?"
"Mr. Longbottom, I hope you don't think that I am going to allow you to waste this body's time with-"
"Professor." For the first time, her father's voice carried an edge, and it stopped Governor Hornby short.
"I beg your pardon?"
"My title is professor. I have been an instructor at Hogwarts for 25 years. I am, therefore, quite well versed in the requirements and standards expected of its students. The purpose of this meeting today is, largely, to hear petitions from potential students. I assure you, by submitting one and speaking to it, I am not wasting this body's time. Now, if I may continue?" Governor Hornby opened his mouth as if to argue, and Maddie's father spoke over him. "If you are about to deny me permission, I have the oath you and your colleagues took when you became members of the Board of Governors here with me, and I am prepared to review it with you."
Governor Hornby glared down at Maddie's father, but he refused to blink. Finally, he said, "I expect you to be brief."
"As brief as thoroughness allows," her father said with a tight smile.
Maddie had never seen her father like this before. Her father was all warmth and smiles and quiet support, and this man . . . he was icy and cool and he spoke with an edge she couldn't quite identify.
"We will allow you five minutes to make your case," Governor Hornby said, and it sounded as if his teeth were gritted as he spoke. Her father's response was swift.
"I thank you for your generosity. The guidelines for petition allow me fifteen, with more time allotted to answer any questions anyone on the Board may have. I'm happy to review that policy with you as well, should you need it."
Governor Hornby swiveled in his seat to look at the lady Governor who sat next to him. Her name was Governor Frobisher, and Maddie recognized her as a friend of her parents. "The guidelines allow for fifteen minutes," she confirmed. Governor Hornby looked furious.
"Your time has begun," he said shortly. "I suggest you use it wisely."
"I intend to. If you need a refresher, the policy procedures for petitions of admittance state that petitions are denied only when there is solid evidence that the potential student would not be able to learn or thrive at Hogwarts. I do not believe this applies to Maddie."
"She's a Squib!" Governor Hornby said again, sounding outraged.
"So we have established," her father said, the tiniest hint of his impatience seeping into his tone. "I do not believe that is detrimental to her ability to learn and thrive at Hogwarts."
"Because you are her father," Governor Hornby sneered. "You are biased in a way that cannot be -"
"I would make this petition on behalf of any Squib who asked it of me," Maddie's father said loudly. "But they have not. Maddie has. So, yes, like every other parent who has put a petition before you today, I am here advocating on behalf of my child. That is hardly a mark against her. Now, I would ask that any other petty arguments you may have be saved for the end of my petition with the other questions. I prefer not to use any more of my precious time on them."
Governor Hornby was so red in the face Maddie was worried he might explode, but Governor Frobisher said, "Governor Hornby, Professor Longbottom is within his rights to request this. From here on out, any time spent answering inquiries from the Board or addressing interruptions will not detract from his allotted time."
Governor Hornby sputtered, but Governor Frobisher said, "Please continue with your petition, Professor."
"Thank you," Maddie's father said with a deep nod and a more respectful tone than he was affording Governor Hornby. "The basis of my petition is this: Lack of ability to perform magic does not equate to an inability to learn and thrive at Hogwarts. Can any of you tell me how many of a first year's core classes require an active use of magic?"
There was a rustling of surprise from the assembled Governors at being so addressed, but eventually, Governor Harrowwood on the far right said, in a tone far more mocking than sincere, "We are a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Longbottom. I'd imagine, therefore, that all of the core classes require active magic."
There were titters of laughter from around the room, but Maddie's dad just shook his head and smiled. "So sorry, Governor, but that is an incorrect response. Would anyone else like to give it a go?" When he was met with silence, he said, "Come now, I'm not taking marks off anyone for wrong answers." He gave it another second, then said, "Very well. The answer is three. Three of seven." There were murmurings of disbelief throughout the room at that, but her dad spoke over them. "Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Darks Arts," he said in a carrying voice, counting them off on his fingers. "History of Magic requires no spellwork. Astronomy requires no spellwork. The plants we study in Herbology are magical, but our methods of working them are not, and the same is true of Potions. The ingredients are magical, the resulting potions are magical, but the act of brewing them can be undertaken by anyone."
"What about magic-infused potions?" a Governor Vaisey asked.
"Studied at the NEWT level only and therefore not relevant to your decision today."
"Professor Longbottom," Governor Hornby said, his voice lined with impatience. "Even should that assertion happen to be true-"
"The entire teaching staff of Hogwarts is here today," Maddie's dad said evenly. "Would you like me to call them up one by one to answer your question about whether or not my assertion is true?"
Governor Hornby's jaw tightened. "That will not be necessary," he said through gritted teeth. "Regardless of its truth, there are the electives to consider. What happens in two years, when she is required to add two more courses of study? Magical expectations only increase with the time spent at Hogwarts."
"I'm glad you bring up the electives, because you're right. Magical expectations of electives are vastly different than for the core curriculum. Instead of nearly half, only one in five electives require active magic usage." The Governors, almost across the board, looked stunned. Maddie's father smiled. "Blows your minds a little, right? We're a school of magic, so magic should be everywhere, we assume. But it's not. Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and obviously Muggle Studies don't use it. It can be helpful in Care of Magical Creatures, but it's not in any way required, which is why that class was able to be taught by someone who, for many years, was denied the use of a wand. Divination is Hogwarts' only elective course that requires active magical ability. Indeed, Divination requires more; true Divination requires a Seer's ability, but we don't close the class to anyone who doesn't have that, which is good, or it would be offered about as often as Alchemy. So of the twelve courses available for study at Hogwarts, a mere four of them require active magic."
"Professor Longbottom," Governor Zeller spoke up from her seat. "Pertinent as this issue may be, I feel that you are distracting us from the true matter at hand."
"Which would be?"
"That of those four classes, three of them are core curriculum. Miss Longbottom would be required to take those classes for five years of her schooling here. They may make up less than half of her required courses, but they are, arguably, the most important courses that are offered at Hogwarts, no offence intended to your and your subject, of course."
"Of course," her father repeated.
"Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts are among the fundamental skills that we ask witches and wizards to learn. They encompass almost every aspect of our day to day lives, which is why such a high level of importance is placed on mastering them. And mastering those skills, Professor, is something that your daughter is simply unable to do. Allowing her to become a student at Hogwarts, therefore, is tantamount to setting her up to fail."
Several members of the Board murmured their agreement with that statement.
For a moment, her father was silent, and Maddie wasn't sure what to make of that. He didn't agree with them, did he? He couldn't. How could she be set up for failure when she wanted this so badly? But after a moment, he raised his head and addressed the Governors again.
"You and I have different definitions of success, I think," he said.
"If she is admitted as a student," Governor Barrowsby said, "you will not be able to hold her to a different standard as the other students. If you go easy on her because of her . . . disability, it isn't fair to them."
"Governor Barrowsby, I hold all my students to different standards. I don't know how things were done when you were at Hogwarts, but as a professor, I am not in the practice of judging one student based on the performance of another. Each student is graded and appraised based on well they are meeting the height of what they individually are capable of. The same assignment turned in by two different students could easily receive two different grades if one student had done the work to the very best of their ability while the other was capable of more but not living up to it."
Several of the Governors looked affronted by this. "And do you believe that is an effective way to teach?" Governor Harkiss asked, sounding shocked and offended.
"I don't believe my teaching practices are currently under review," Maddie's father said, a slight edge in his voice, "but I believe that my classroom analytics speak for themselves. But to return to the issue at hand, I assure you that if Maddie was admitted as a student, no one would go easy on her. Her work would be graded the same way that every student's work is graded. Is she performing to the best of her ability?"
"Professor Longbottom," Governor Dodderage broke in, "noble as that teaching approach is, the reality of the situation is that your daughter, no matter how many incantations or wand movements or theoretical facts she learns, cannot complete the tasks that would be asked of her in the Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence classes. And even if the rubrics were skewed in her favor by individual professors, when the time came for her to sit OWLs, she would be held to the same standard as all the other students, a standard she would be unused to achieving, and she would fail. Inability to perform any of the spells in the practical examination would lead to failure."
"In three of the exams," Maddie's father said quietly. "Though I don't believe that what you are saying is necessarily true, but even if it was, she would fail three of, at minimum, nine exams, which has the potential to leave her with six OWLs. More than several fully magical wizards and witches I could name after my tenure teaching at Hogwarts. Maddie is smart, and she is capable. She can handle the challenge these classes present as well as any magical child. She has been studying these subjects in some capacity for the past year, under my guidance and the guidance of fully accredited instructors at Hogwarts. I can bring them up here to testify to both Maddie's intelligence and her drive."
"Testimony will be limited to those whose names are on the petition," Governor Hornby said in no uncertain terms.
"Governor-"
"We are not the Wizengamot, Professor Longbottom. We are not a court and this is not a hearing with a judge and jury, where you can call witnesses left and right. Testimony will be limited to those whose names are on the petition, and you are down to the end of your time."
"Governor Frobisher?" Maddie's father asked.
"The Chair has the power to limit testimony," she said, an apology in her voice.
"Then may I ask how much time I have left?"
"Just over five minutes."
He nodded, and was silent for a moment. "Governors, I could speak to this issue all day. But Maddie has prepared a statement, and I want to leave her enough time to give it. Therefore, I would ask if any of you have any other concerns or questions that I can address."
"I have one," an elderly Governor who had not yet spoken said. Her placard identified her as Governor Alton. "Professor, whatever decision we make here today sets a precedent. To my knowledge, no Squib has ever petitioned for the right to be admitted as a student. Therefore, the future will look to how this decision is made today. We have to think of that future, of future Squibs who may not be as capable or driven as you claim your daughter to be."
Maddie could see her father's jaw tighten, and she knew he was holding back something he dearly wished to say. When he spoke, the words were measured and controlled. "Governor," he said simply, "I assure you that if a Squib faces this body with a petition for admission, they are as driven as my daughter. I acknowledge that a precedent will be set today. I understand why you raise this point. Personally, I hope you set a precedent today - one that supports open education for every child born to the magical world. But it isn't fair to Maddie to vote against her because you are afraid of the ramifications the decision might have in the future. You are not being asked to decide the fate of all Squibs. You are only being asked to admit Maddie, a girl who loves magic more than any child I have ever met. Who has asked me since she was five years old if this was the year she could start at Hogwarts. She wants this with her entire being. She'll tell you that better than I ever could. Give her the chance, please, to show you what she is capable of." He turned to her then. "Maddie?" he said, holding his hand out to her.
She took a deep breath. Her mother squeezed her hand. "You've got this, Maddie," she whispered, and it gave Maddie the courage to stand and walk forward until she was even with her father.
"I love you," she whispered to him. He smiled, and laid one hand on her shoulder.
"I turn over the rest of my time to my daughter," he told the Governors, and then he stepped back and to the side.
Overwhelmed with nerves, Maddie took a moment and smoothed her skirt. She and Mum had picked out her outfit very carefully. She shouldn't wear some kind of robe, Mum had said, because the Governors might think she was presuming. But she shouldn't wear her Muggle clothes, either, because it would set her apart. So they had decided on a school uniform of sorts - black pleated skirt, white button down shirt, and a gray sweater vest trimmed in purple. She hoped it would helped. Maddie took a deep breath and prepared to speak.
"I am Madeline Longbottom," she said, looking up at the panel. The looks on the faces of many of the Governors staring back at her stopped her words in her throat.
She hadn't noticed before, from her seat, how old most of them were. With very few exceptions, they were older than her parents, by far, and the looks on their faces ranged from disinterest to discontent to disgust. It became very clear as she stood there that most of the Governors had no interest in what she had to say. They didn't want to listen to her. In that moment, she knew with perfect clarity that all her carefully prepared words were about to fall on mostly deaf ears. Governor Frobisher and another of her father's friends, Governor Carmichael, gave her encouraging smiles, and two or three others were looking at her with something either like interest or curiosity. But the rest? They had already dismissed her, or, like Governor Hornby, were furious that she was there at all.
It made her angry.
"I am Madeline Longbottom," she started again, her voice coming out hard and fierce and nothing like the soft earnest delivery she had practiced with her mother. The words that came out were not the ones she had practiced, either. "I am a Squib, and that does not make me less worthy of your attention." She could feel the energy behind her shift slightly. Several Governors raised eyebrows, sitting back or forward in their surprise. From her periphery, she saw her father shift position as he waited to hear what she would say next.
"I am a Squib," she continued. "I haven't want to use that word, because it made me feel dirty. It made me feel like I should be ashamed. But the truth is, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am a Squib, and I deserve a place at Hogwarts and in the magical world. I belong here, whether you want me to or not. I do not deserve to be hidden in a corner and forgotten about because you are embarrassed by me. There is no reason why I can't study at Hogwarts and learn everything it has to teach me. And there is no reason I shouldn't. I want it. I want this world. I want to learn about it, ugly parts and all, because it is my world, no matter what I can or can't do."
Furious, surprised, or supportive, she had everyone's attention. She kept going. "I don't care if I'll never be able to cast a spell. That doesn't mean I can't learn about them. I don't care if I fail Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts every year I take them. I don't care if I get Ts on those OWLs. I will still be succeeding, because I will be learning. That's all I want. It's all I've ever wanted."
For a moment, it seemed, she'd shocked the Governors into silence with her outburst. Governor Hornsby looked nearly apoplectic. But then one of them - Governor Whitten - found his voice. "Why torture yourself, Miss Longbottom?" he asked with a sneer. "Why surround yourself with something you can never have? Why exert so much time and energy learning about a world you can never take part in?"
She wanted to snarl and snap and meet his sneer with fire. But then she remembered her father, remembered how calm and cool and collected he'd been, meeting their disdain with level-headedness, finding a way to cut them down while never losing control or becoming antagonistic. She had to do the same.
She took a deep breath and forced herself into a semblance of calm. "Governor Whitten," she said, trying to emulate her father's even tone, "if you believe that the only people who take part in our world are those who actively work magic, then you are sadly out of touch with the world you live in. And you have very little understanding of how it works." She turned back to the whole panel while Governor Whitten sputtered like a drowning rat. "Learning about the magical world is not torture, not to me. Magical ability or not, it's all I want."
"Miss Longbottom," said Governor Denbright in a voice that was kind and sympathetic and condescending as hell. "I can only imagine how shocking this whole situation was to you. I will admit that I am worried about admitting you as a student because I am worried that you haven't yet come fully to terms with what being a Squib means. You haven't had the chance. But what happens when you realize the full extent of your limitations, when you come face to face with the reality of all you cannot do, despite wanting it so badly? Isn't it better to accept your limitations now, and rewrite what it is you think you want?"
Maddie fought back the urge to punch Governor Denbright in the face. It wasn't easy. "No," she said simply. "I don't think that would be better. I prefer to believe that I can push myself."
"Admirable as that is," Governor Denbright said, "sometimes we have to acknowledge that there are things we simply cannot do, no matter how hard we believe in ourselves. For instance, I am a big Quidditch fan. I love the game, I have season tickets for Pride of Portree, and when I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to be able to play myself. But I can't fly. No matter how hard I try. I can barely get a broomstick to follow my commands. I worked and I worked and I believed in myself, but it didn't make a difference, and I was miserable until I accepted my shortcoming. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
Maddie stared at her without speaking because she couldn't think how to respond without being unbelievably rude. "Yes," she finally said, searching for other appropriate words. "I think I do. But I also think that there's an important difference, Governor, between your situation and mine." Governor Denbright tilted her head to the side in question. Maddie spoke her next words with the simplicity they deserved. "You were allowed to try."
The silence in the chamber seemed to thunder, and from the corner of her eye, Maddie was pretty sure she saw her dad smile. And then she couldn't hold back the rest anymore. "Also, I can fly a broom," she said in a rush. "I'm pretty good, too, they used me as a reserve on the intramural Quidditch league last year, and I'm the reigning Hogwarts champion of Broomstick Dodgeball, so . . ."
She heard a soft chuckle echo into the chamber, and sought out her dad, who was grinning and not bothering to hide it. He winked at her, and she turned back to the Governors, carefully schooling the echoing grin into a more neutral expression. "But, Governor Denbright, there's something important that's the same, too. You can't play Quidditch, but you still enjoy it. You can't fly a broomstick, but you still participate in the game in some way. That's all I'm asking for. I know I can't do magic. I'll never hold a wand and cast a spell. I'm not asking anyone to pretend otherwise. All I'm asking for is . . . my season tickets to Pride of Portree. I just want to be allowed to participate. I want to be allowed to try. And I don't understand why you're so afraid to let me."
There was more she was supposed to say, more words that she and Mum had worked out together and practiced over and over. But they were words that promised things she didn't want to promise to these people. That she would make them proud. That she would prove herself to them. But those people up there, they didn't deserve those promises, and she wasn't about to make them.
"Is there anything else you would like to say, Miss Longbottom?" Governor Frobisher asked, not unkindly.
"No," Maddie said. "That's all."
"Professor?" Governor Frobisher asked Maddie's father. He looked to Maddie, a question in his eyes. She shook her head slightly.
"We've made our case," he told the Governors. "Now it's up to you to decide if you are willing to give an eager learner a chance, or if you will decide to turn education into a privilege instead of a right."
Governor Hornby called the vote. They denied Maddie's application, nine votes to three. She'd won over Governor Denbright, which was gratifying, but she hadn't swayed anyone else. Her other two yea votes were from Governors Carmichael and Frobisher, those friends of her father and the only governors younger than seventy.
As the meeting was gaveled to a close and the Governors filed out, Maddie said, mostly to the floor, "I could maybe have convinced more of them if I had given my planned out speech."
"Maybe," her father agreed. "But for what it's worth, I am so proud of you for going rogue and giving them what for." She looked up at him.
"Really?" she asked. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief hug.
"Really," he said. "They deserved it. They were abominably rude to you."
"I lied to them," she admitted softly then. "When I said I didn't understand why they were afraid to let me be a student. I do understand. It's because they're afraid I'll prove them wrong."
"You're right," her dad said. "Some of those Governors up there have been believing Squibs are less than wizards for so long, they're terrified someone will prove them wrong and they'll have to change the way they think."
"When I came in here, I thought I would do anything to get them to say yes. But then I saw the way they looked at me, like I was dirty, or contagious, and I just, I got so mad, and I realized something, Dad." The rest of their party was coming their way now, attempting to join them against the press of people leaving the chamber. Her dad tilted his head and waited. "I realized that all they really have the ability to do is call me a student or not a student. But they can't actually control what I learn."
"No," her dad agreed. "They can't."
"If they say I can't be a student, then that means that you and Mum are still in charge of teaching me, right?"
"Right."
"And you and Mum have always let me choose what I want to learn."
"Exactly."
"So," she said, pushing forward with fire in her eyes, "so, Dad, I want to learn Charms and Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology and Potions and Astronomy and History of Magic. And since that's a lot for you and Mum to take on, and since I live in a school that teaches all those things, and since there's gonna be, like, seventy other kids my age who want to learn those things, too, why shouldn't I learn alongside them?"
Her dad rocked back and forth on his feet, his eyes twinkling. "No reason that I can see," he said with a smile that ignited her own. "And, you know, if you're not an actual student, then Uncle Terry and Uncle Filius and Uncle Harry can't fail you for not being able to do the spells."
"Right," Maddie said, with a twinkle of her own. "But if I wanted to take the tests and do the homework, just to see if I understand everything, not because I'm required to, but just, you know-"
"For fun?" her dad broke in with a grin. Maddie grinned back.
"Yeah," she said, "well, then, I'm sure they'd be willing to grade it - I mean fake grade it, of course, since I wouldn't be a student, but just to let me know what I would have gotten if the Governors had voted differently."
"I think your aunts and uncles would get a kick out of doing just that," her dad said.
"What would we get a kick out of doing?" Aunt Demelza asked.
"Grading Maddie's not-homework that she would do for fun as a not-student not taking first year classes this year," her dad informed the teaching staff of Hogwarts, who looked confused for a moment, and then caught on. "You're not required to, of course," he told them all. "Since she won't officially be a student. And if there's anyone who doesn't want to teach a Squib, let me know, and I'll pick up your subject myself."
"If there's anyone who doesn't want to teach a Squib," Maddie's mum broke in, "let me know, and I'll punch you in the face, no magic required." She punctuated the statement with her sweetest smile, and the staff laughed.
"Yeah, I don't think anyone's going to admit to that in your hearing after today," Uncle Harry said, clapping her dad on the back.
"Like anyone feels that way about Maddie in the first place," Aunt Margaret corrected. "Of course she can . . . sit in on the first year courses. Who would complain?"
"Let's call it an audit," Aunt Ellie suggested. "That's what the Muggles call it at their university, when students sit in on a class to learn without officially being enrolled."
"How's that sound, Mads?" her mum asked with a grin.
"It sounds perfect," she said. "And in two years, when I have the hang of this auditing thing under my belt, I could even add a couple more classes, right?"
"You can add as many classes as you want any time you want," her dad told her. "And you can drop as many classes as you want any time you want, too. After all, you're not a student. You don't have to follow their rules."
"Do I have to be a student to take the O.W.L.s?" she asked then, and something very subtle shifted in the air between her and her father and the rest of the professors. She'd been serious before, but there had been an undertone of playfulness. That was gone with this question. Now they knew that she was serious.
"I did some research on O.W.L. parameters," Uncle Terry answered, "back when Roxie Weasley wanted to take some a few years early. They have to word the registration guidelines carefully, since a lot of wizards choose to be educated privately, but still need the accreditation from the Ministry. The result is, there's no restrictive language about who can sit the O.W.L.s. None. No age requirements, no schooling requirements, no ability requirements. A Muggle could walk in off the street and sit the exam if they wanted to, the way the guidelines are worded. You can take the O.W.L.s any time you want, Maddie, and if anyone tries to stop you, I'll throw the book at them. And I know lots of people in the department of Magical Law Enforcement who will help."
"Good. Can I pass them, Uncle Terry? The ones that require magic? That Governor said I wouldn't, she said I'd fail, but f I study really hard, and I pass the the theory part with a perfect score, and if I know all the incantations and wand movements for the practicals, can I pass?"
Uncle Terry considered the question seriously, and when he answered, he answered honestly. "It's going to depend on who administers the test. If you get stuck with one of those old trolls from up there," he said, gesturing toward the tables where the Governors had been seated, "you might get failed on the practical out of spite. But if you have a tester who does what they are supposed to do, who gives one point per spell for wand movement and one point for incantation . . . you'll be right on the cusp. You'll lose two points per spell for inability to perform. But 50% on the practicals and 100% on the theory should be enough to earn you an O.W.L. accreditation. If you get someone fair."
With fire and determination in her eyes, she nodded once, sharply. "Then that's what I'm going to do." Her voice brooked no argument.
"The Board of Governors have no idea what a monster they just created, do they?" Maddie heard her mum ask her Uncle Harry in an undertone. Uncle Harry laughed.
"I think the Board of Governors are going to be in for a rude awakening in about, oh, five years or so."
They were asked to clear the chamber then, and the Hogwarts staff and Maddie and her mum filed out. Most headed for the Floo connections, but Maddie hung back with her father. She had an important question to ask him. There was one last thing that was bothering her about all of this. "Dad?"
"Yes, Mads?"
"Is it okay, that I want to do this? Could Governor Hornby get you in trouble? He doesn't seem to like you much."
Her father knelt in front of her and took her hand. "Governor Hornby and I . . . have a history, Maddie. He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I think he's bigoted and close-minded and shouldn't be in charge of making decisions for a school. I strongly opposed his appointment as Chair of the Governors. I fought against it, and he knows it. But he can't get me in trouble for this. We aren't breaking any laws. You won't be an official Hogwarts student, you won't be Sorted, your grades won't be included in any reports. Squibs aren't forbidden to study magic or live in the magical world. They may be highly encouraged to disappear quietly into the Muggle world and save wizards the embarrassment of being around them-" The words were black and heavy with sarcasm- "but if you choose to stay here and learn about magic, you aren't breaking any laws. People may not like what you're trying to do, Maddie, but no one has the power to punish you for it. If they try, they'll have me to answer to."
Maddie threw her arms around his neck, and he returned the embrace tightly. "I love you, Dad," she whispered in his ear.
"I love you, too, sweetheart," he whispered back. "And I am very, very proud of you." He pulled back to look her in the eye once more. "But I need you to know something, okay?" She nodded and waited. "I was . . . going to suggest this plan of yours to you, if you hadn't come up with it on your own. Because the only way they'll change their minds about Squibs is if a Squib makes them, if a Squib proves to them that their preconceived notions are wrong. You have the chance to do that in a way that no other Squib does."
"I know," she said solemnly. "And I'm ready for that."
He smiled softly, and nodded. "I know you are. Right now, when you're full of fire and anger. But this is what I need you to understand. Just because you have a chance that no other Squib has ever had doesn't make it your responsibility, Maddie. I don't want you to feel like there's any pressure or obligation on you to change the world for anyone else. If you choose this, I want it to truly be your choice."
"It is, Dad," she assured him. "It is my choice. I want this. I want to do this. I want to prove that Squibs aren't useless, that we can learn things and accomplish things and contribute, and we should be allowed to try if we want. I want to prove what we, what I, can do. I want to set a precedent, for every Squib who comes after me, so that they can study here if they want. But most of all, I want to get twelve O.W.L.s, and I want eight of them to be Outstandings, so I can come back here after I do and rub their stupid faces in it."
Her dad laughed out loud at that. "I know you do," he said. "And I want you to as well. But I also need you to know that it's okay if you change your mind. No one is going to think less of you, at least, no one whose opinion matters. Just because it's what you want now doesn't mean you always have to want it. If you do, amazing, and I'll be right there behind you, supporting you every step of the way. But if you don't, I'll support you then, too, no matter what. Mum too. Never doubt it."
She shook her head. "I don't."
He got to his feet and offered her his hand. She held both her parents' hands as they made their way to the Floo connection that would take them back to Hogwarts. "I think I want my House colors to be purple and white," she told them.
"And what House will you belong to?" her mum asked with a smile.
"Longbottom House, of course."
"Mmm," her father said. "Bit of an unfortunate name, but we'll overcome it. What are the defining characteristics of Longbottom House, if I may ask?"
"Well, we're very determined," Maddie said. "And we love to learn new things. We stand up for what we believe in no matter what. And we'll do anything to accomplish our goals, even if it has to be a little sneaky. But most of all, we get underestimated a lot. But you shouldn't."
"Why's that?" her mum asked with a grin.
"Because we'll kick your butt when you're not looking, and everyone will be rooting for us at the end of things," she said simply.
"And who will your head of House be?" her dad asked then.
"Mum," she answered without hesitation. Both her parents laughed.
"I'm hurt!" her dad cried through his amusement. "Mum's not even a teacher!"
"Well, I'm not even a student, so I think it's perfect."
"You know what?" her dad asked with a twinkle in his eye. "I think it's perfect, too. Now, are you two ready?"
Maddie faced the green flames. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go home."
Credit where credit is due, ink-splotch on Tumblr first got me started thinking about Squibs at Hogwarts.
Originally, Maddie was going to be this super-shy kid who was scared to start at Hogwarts, so she did a weird "pre" year the year she was supposed to start school, but the more I explored that, the less I liked it. It didn't make a lot of sense, so then I started thinking about what it might be like to grow up at Hogwarts. In Harry's time, we don't see any family of any professors, but surely at some point, some professor had a kid raised at Hogwarts. That become much more interesting to me, and then my brain, who likes to torture my favorite fictional babies, read ink-splotch's piece on Squibs at Hogwarts and went "OOO, what if Maddie's a SQUIB?"
So that's where this came from. And Maddie and Callie Dursley are the same age, and they are mirror images of each other, and they are going to be best friends and change the freaking world. Because I believe in Harry and Neville's philosophy - the wizarding world isn't going to change unless people drag it kicking and screaming. So I decided to write characters who can. Also Daddy!Neville and Professor!Neville because they're my FAVORITE.