Disclaimer: JK Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but some family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.
My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.
Chapter 3 – As You Like It
Kitty, anxious to see the stables, awakened Viv before the blond witch would have preferred. "It's late, get moving."
"It's early," Vivien retorted, closed her eyes and pulled the pillow over her head.
Kitty pulled the pillow off her friend. "Do you want to eat before we go riding?"
"Will you offer me another hour of sleep as a choice?"
"You've had all night to sleep, time to face the day."
Squinting against the morning light streaming through the window Vivien sat up in bed and stared in amazement at Kitty. "What are you wearing?" Viv demanded.
"Surely you know what trousers are."
"I'm unaccustomed to seeing them on a woman."
"Much better for riding, and working around the stable."
"We are guests, we are not to work."
"Well, they're still better for riding."
"Didn't expect to see the two of you up," Matthias told the women as they found the dining room. "Claudius is never up before noon and Mr. Malfoy imagined you kept similar hours. I imagine you're wanting breakfast."
"Yes, please," Kitty told him. "I'm ravenous."
Vivien expressed her thoughts, "Tea, toast, and fruit would be lovely."
"I'll need more than what she wants," Kitty said, looking with envy at the secretary's plate.
Mr. Prewett glanced toward the stony-faced woman who stood to one side of the dining room. The young women guessed she was the Sloper sister who had been mentioned the day before. The middle-aged woman nodded to show she understood and headed for the kitchen. He stared at Kitty's attire and Vivien blushed at the scrutiny. "She says it is more comfortable for riding," the blonde witch explained.
"I… um… imagine that is true," he agreed.
"So, what's happening today?" Kitty asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Mr. Prewett. Vivien moved over to the table and hesitated. She believed that it was a servant's job to pull out the chair for her, but there was not one present. Would she be guilty of being too casual if she seated herself, or was it part of the informality of a country morning to seat oneself? Deciding she looked foolish standing by the table she sat down.
"I'll be working in the library, as usual," Matthias told Kitty. "I'd ask you if you were interested in the library, but it sounds like you prefer the out-of-doors. Mr. Malfoy said he had a small issue with a tenant to settle this morning. He hopes to be home by noon and show the two of you the park properly."
"It seems he spends a great deal of time with the business of the manor," Vivien commented.
"Claudius was probably correct in his observation, even if intemperate in his language, last night. Perhaps his father spends too much time attending to the manor. I sometimes imagine his steward feels reduced to the level of clerk since that seems the only role Mr. Malfoy allows him."
"Really?" Kitty asked.
"Well… As I said, it is what I imagine. I've met the man. He has expressed no complaint in my hearing and even praises Mr. Malfoy for his attention to the property, but it might be that he sees praising Mr. Malfoy to be in his own interest. I really don't pay much attention to what goes on outside the Hall."
The grim Miss Sloper appeared with a tray and set cups of tea before the women. Vivien was given a plate with a sliced peach and some strawberries along a piece of toast with orange marmalade while Kitty was given a plate with fried eggs, bacon, bangers, fried potatoes, and three slices of toast with jam.
Mr. Prewett offered to show them the stables, but Kitty declined the offer. "I'll be able to find them," she assured him, "and if I can't see it..." She inhaled deeply to show a second means of discovering their location.
A wagon loaded with bags of oats was by the stable door. An old farmer sat on the wagon seat while a brawny young man piled the oats in a stack of bags just inside the door. "Are you Clarence?" Kitty called.
"Yep," the young man grunted as he hefted two of the bags and moved them inside the stables.
"We're guests at the house, and-"
"Can ya wait a minute, m'am," he interrupted and kept unloading the wagon.
"He's very strong," Kitty whispered to Viv as they watched him work. "Good looking too."
"He's a muggle," Vivien reminded her.
"I didn't say he wasn't. You can be a muggle and strong and good-looking."
"Well don't tell him that. Muggle women are supposed to be demure and–"
"And not supposed to be wearing trousers either, according to you," Kitty sniffed.
Having emptied the wagon the young man called to the driver, "Yo, Tom. I'm finished." The old farmer cracked his whip and the two horses pulled the wagon away. Clarence then looked at the women, clearly puzzled by Kitty's attire. "Heard there'd be couple guests at the hoose. If'n ya don't min', I've too much work to drive ya 'roun in the barouche. Young master has a cabriolet he's most particular about. If'n the young master's frien'," he nodded at Kitty, "can handle a gig I'll-"
"We want to ride horses," Kitty told him firmly. "I trust you have saddles."
"Three vehicles," Vivien whispered to Kitty in a voice loud enough for the man to hear.
Kitty looked unimpressed, "And probably some wagons and a dogcart if there're hounds."
"Aye," the stableman agreed. "And Master's carriage. I hear the late Mistress was quite the rider, there be saddles for ladies."
"And I obviously don't need a woman's saddle," Kitty pointed out, "although Viv will."
"Yes," Vivien answered. "There was some cob that Mr. Malfoy recommended for me – said it would be very gentle."
"Tha'd be Sam." He looked at Kitty. "An' for ya I'll say-"
"I'll look over the horses for myself," she told him, walking past him to enter the stable.
Clarence saddled the cob and led him out to Vivien.
"Here," Kitty called. "This one needs a good ride."
"No m'am. Sparta stays here."
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"No means no. Sparta's na to leave the paddock."
"Nonsense, this is a fine animal – but he's losing muscle and getting fat. Put a saddle on him – I'll give him a good run."
"Master's orders. Sparta's na to be ridden."
"I'm a guest. I'm telling you to saddle this horse."
"Ya may be a guest, but ya're na the master."
"Then I'll saddle him myself."
Clarence chuckled at the absurdity of the idea, "Wan' me to show ya the saddles?"
"I saw them when I was looking over the stables. You're treating the animals well, but some of the tack isn't as clean as it should be and you've got rats and mice in the oats – you need a couple good cats out here." She pushed past the surprised Clarence and selected a saddle, then carried it back to the stall. She didn't want to use a hover charm in front of a muggle and the saddle was heavier than she expected. "You could help me carry the saddle at least."
"No m'am, na if ya're plannin' to ride Sparta." He didn't appreciate a woman telling him how to do his job. Carrying a saddle was one thing. He was surprised she had managed that feat. Putting in on the horse and getting it properly cinched would be another matter entirely.
In a faster time that Clarence could have managed Kitty had the girth cinched and was leading the horse out from the stable. Clarence managed a final warning, "Master won't like ya ridin' Sparta," before Kitty helped Vivien mount Sam and the redhead swung a leg over saddle and shook the reins to get Sparta moving.
Not knowing the trails around the estate the two women rode a few miles out on the road by which they had arrived the day before. Kitty would have ridden further to exercise her mount, but Vivien was an indifferent rider and would have preferred a shorter ride. "We should have taken the gig," Vivien protested.
"Nonsense. You said you'd accompany the hunt this weekend."
"I did."
"Think you can do that in a gig? Not that it would really matter. You need a lot of practice the next couple days if you don't want to make a damn fool of yourself."
"I'm not that bad."
"You're so bad you don't even know how bad you are," Kitty told her firmly. Vivien stopped speaking to her for the remainder of the ride.
A livid Titus Malfoy paced outside the stable waiting their return. "Why did you take that horse," he shouted at Kitty as the women rode up.
"He needed a good ride," she told him calmly as she dismounted. "Clarence," she shouted, "you were bloody useless in helping me this morning. Get out here now! Miss Kestrel and I are done with our ride."
Mr. Malfoy tried to hold his tongue as Clarence came out for the two horses. He looked at Kitty, "He tells me that he informed you Sparta was not to be ridden."
"He did. And wouldn't give me a damn bit of help in getting him saddled." Clarence could tell there was trouble brewing and without saying a word quickly moved the horses into the stable in order to avoid any collateral damage.
"And why, after being told that Sparta was not to be ridden did you take him out?"
"I told you, he needed a good ride. Why in the bloody hell are you trying to kill him?"
"I will ask you to moderate in your language. I am not seeking to harm Sparta."
"Well, if you'll pardon my language you are doing a damn fine job of harming him. He needs to be exercised."
"He was my wife's favorite and I—"
"And you're honoring her by killing her favorite horse?"
"He is not to be ridden!"
"I know the killing curse. Be a lot less painful in the long run if that's what you're trying to do. Save you money on oats too."
"Kitty," Vivien protested in horror at her friend's comments.
"You will not abuse my hospitality," Mr. Malfoy began, "by riding Sparta. You will—"
"Did Claude say you have a portrait of your wife somewhere in the house? Can we ask her opinion?"
"A portrait is not my wife. I will not—"
"Still might be worth asking her opinion. Where did Claude say I'd find her?"
He turned and began walking back to the house. The two women had to move quickly to stay with him.
As he stalked through the house Gordon handed him a letter, "This arrived for you while–" Titus Malfoy seized it without breaking stride and continued on his way with the young women in close pursuit.
For some reason Vivien expected the portrait to be of a more beautiful woman. The late Mrs. Malfoy was not unattractive, with regular features and eyes that mirrored the intelligence of her husband and son, but neither was she striking in appearance. Her hair was pulled back in a severe fashion, appropriate for the hunting garb she wore in the picture. The portrait smiled pleasantly – one of the few smiles Vivien had seen since arriving at the Malfoy home.
"Titus, how pleasant and unexpected to see you. You know, some wizards take comfort from the portraits of their wives."
"You are not my wife."
"Of course, and I did not claim to be, I simply reminded you that even shadows of our former selves can grow lonely. Fortunately there is Claudius to keep me company. And, since being dead allows me to speak my mind without fear of consequences I will remind you that you are dreadfully amiss about visiting. Now, have you come to make amends with a social call or to introduce me to the young ladies behind you? Claudius informs you that you have been scheming without consulting me. I would be upset, if portraits could be upset."
"This girl," Mr. Malfoy pointed at Kitty, "was riding Sparta."
"Are you quite certain it is a girl? The trousers suggest a young man."
Kitty introduced herself, "Catherine Kelly, M'am. Find it much easier to ride."
"I dare say you would. Nevertheless you are a guest of the Malfoys and etiquette dictates a certain level of decorum, even from the Irish, while a guest at the house. You will scandalize the natives dressed like that."
"You can't jump right in a damn lady's saddle!"
"You will please watch your language. I was always able to jump while using an appropriate saddle so with practice you..." The portrait glanced at Titus, "You have never told me how I died. An accident while hunting might have pleased me. Poor Claudius is unable to discuss his mother's death with me. Did I die hunting?"
"You are a portrait, as I must remind you, and my wife did not die hunting."
There was another question for Mr. Malfoy, "Did Claudius tell me you would be at the Whitleys this weekend?"
"I don't know what Claudius may have told you, but yes, I accepted the invitation."
The portrait turned back to Kitty, "You had best practice hard the next few days if you plan on jumping and would prefer not to break your neck."
"Yes, M'am. I'd not considered that how I was dressed might reflect on my hosts. I'll practice riding with a skirt."
The painting smiled. "Very good. Problem solved. Now, Titus, Claudius informs me–"
Titus Malfoy coughed, "The problem is not solved, or at least not all of it. She was told not to ride Sparta and–"
"Is something wrong with Sparta?"
Before Mr. Malfoy could answer Kitty spoke up, "He wanted exercise. Too much time in the paddock, he's getting fat and weak."
"He wanted exercise?"
"Yes, M'am. We Kellys know."
"Titus? Is this true? Why isn't Sparta being ridden?"
"Does it matter? The new man in the stables told her the horse was not to be ridden, those were my orders, and she disobeyed them."
"And I don't care what you told to whom. My question remains why isn't Sparta being ridden?"
"I don't see that the matter concerns you."
"You never treated me like this when I was alive. Is this more of your inappropriate mourning for my death? "
"My behavior is not inappropriate."
"Yes it is. Claudius is very concerned about you, and since I only hear his version of events I am inclined to accept them as true." The painting looked back at the Irish girl, "Catherine?"
"You may call me Kitty, M'am."
"Not yet. You will remain Catherine for the present. I believe you have spoken truthfully and that Sparta needed to be taken out and exercised. Please continue to do so, but if he is as out of condition as you say don't give him his head at the Whitleys. There are some jumps there he might not be ready to attempt."
"Now see here," Mr. Malfoy protested. "Sparta is not your horse."
"And if you abuse the poor creature he is not your horse. I loved him very much and can't abide the thought of him growing fat and useless. Will you give her permission to ride him, even if you won't ride him yourself?" He hesitated. "Titus, that horse was born to run. It is an act of cruelty to deny him – and I know you are not a cruel man."
He sighed, "Very well," and turned to Kitty. "You may ride Sparta."
"And now you will offer proper introductions," the painting told Mr. Malfoy. "Claudius tells me you have invited them here as marriage prospects."
"That is not an appropriate matter for discussion."
"It is the most appropriate matter in the world for discussion, and while it might be inappropriate with them present I must remind you that if you'd visit more often I wouldn't be forced to take such drastic action when I see you. I believe the original invitation was to a Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel?"
"Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel were schoolmates of Claudius. Does he tell you of his problems at school when he comes to criticize me?"
"He does not come to criticize you. He loves you very much. He is concerned about you, and very unhappy about what he believes your plans are for him."
"I asked the young women to visit in order to learn more about Claudius. Miss Gray married a young man from Gryffindor when spring term ended and has left the country. Since it would not be proper for Miss Kestrel to visit by herself Miss Gray suggested that Miss Kelly be asked to accompany her."
"Claudius thinks you have more in mind than simply a visit by two schoolmates. Now, introductions, please."
"Miss Kelly, this is a portrait of my late wife." He gestured to the Irish girl, "you have been introduced informally. This is Catherine Kelly."
"Slytherin?"
"Yes, M'am."
"I do not recall animal husbandry in the curriculum. What were your best classes and how did you do?"
"I was probably best at herbology. Never took a first. Lizzy... I mean Miss Gray, and her cousin Robin Fletcher were outstanding. Astronomy may have been my second best subject – almost earned first a couple times. Did well in transfigurations too."
"Thank you. And I appreciate you giving Sparta a good workout. And the other young woman?"
Vivien stepped forward, "Miss Kestrel," Mr. Malfoy made the introduction, "a portrait of Mrs. Malfoy." He nodded towards the blond witch, "Vivien Kestrel, also of Slytherin."
"You are extremely beautiful, child. But I expect you know that."
Vivien blushed, "I've been told I am beautiful."
"Well it's certainly true. And I'm quite certain you believe it and relish the compliments. Enjoy them while you can. Beauty, like life itself, does not last forever. What were your best subjects?"
As Vivien and the portrait talked Mr. Malfoy opened the letter he had been holding.
"I took firsts in charms every year. I was second only to your son in dark arts in fourth and sixth years, and I often had the highest marks in potions in Slytherin."
"Very good. You are beautiful. Have you had many suitors?"
Vivien blushed, "Mrs. Malfoy, that is indelicate."
"I'm dead, remember. I can be as indelicate as I wish. Now then, suitors?"
"My behavior has always been above reproach. I have never had a serious suitor."
"If you are telling the truth it means your family is poor. What does your father do?"
Mr. Malfoy looked up from the letter and answered. "Her father is dead, her mother is a seamstress in Diagon Alley."
"Kestrel... Of course. Did you know that when you invited her Titus?"
"I did not."
"I am very disappointed with you."
"Miss Gray's father has done very well in respectable trade, was on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, and has a country home. I invited them here because they are friends of Claudius."
"Perhaps. I do wish you'd consult me about your plans for Claudius."
"I will not discuss plans for Claudius with you."
"Well you should, it would save you the embarrassment of considering unsuitable young women."
"That is quite enough," he told the portrait. "I just received a letter from the bishop. He has invited himself to dinner and to spend the night and I must warn the Slopers."
"He's not taking Reverend Henley, is he?"
"I do not believe so. He indicates some business in another parish of the diocese and prefers our hospitality when he travels. But Reverend Henley will not remain forever, I'm certain a more appropriate appointment will be found for him."
The portrait offered a quick warning to the two women. "I assume you know not to talk magic in front of the bishop."
"Yes, M'am," they assured her.
"Reverend Henley?" Vivien asked as the trio left the nursery.
"There are two livings to which I can make appointments. They are too small to be attractive, so the Malfoys usually accept the bishop's suggestions. This usually means a relic who has outlived his usefulness in a larger parish, a bright young man who will do a fine job until he gets a better appointment, or a man without talents who will do a poor job for many years."
"So Reverend Henley is one of the bright men?" Kitty concluded.
"He is a good man. I will need to warn Claudius to be on his best behavior this evening."
After Mr. Malfoy issued dinner directions the three found Claudius in the library. "The bishop is a pompous old dullard," Claudius warned the young women
"Claudius," his father said sternly. "That is inappropriate."
"Oh, you know it's true," his son yawned. He turned to Matthias Prewett, "Have you noticed that, important as the truth is to my father, manners are more important?"
The thin man squirmed at the question, "While his grace is limited in topics of conversation I have always found his interest in the Norman period to be–"
"Oh, that's right," Claudius interrupted, "you're a bit of a dullard yourself. Viv and Kitty can only hope he comes up with one of his occasional absurdities."
Titus chose to ignore his son's comments, but the young man made further comments on the evening's guest. "Lord knows how the fool became a bishop – I'm certain no human could offer a rational explanation. But they say God works in mysterious ways," Claudius sighed. "Fortunately he'll drink too much claret and leave the table early to sleep it off. Now, one of you must ask him about Norman rood screens."
"Norman rood screens?"
"Some church architecture. He's quite dotty on the subject. And while he is wretchedly boring he at least offers some amusement as a fanatic in his rants. Smile and nod occasionally. He can bore you on any number of topics, but will usually infuriate you as well. One of you merely needs to ask about Norman rood screens to create a diversion."
Kitty looked over to Mr. Prewett for confirmation, "Well, is he right?"
"Absolutely," the thin man agreed. "The evening will likely be agony
The bishop and a curate who served as his secretary arrived half an hour before dinner. Vivien decided that Ebenezer Ffolkes could not possibly be as ancient as he appeared, at least she could not imagine anyone being as old as he appeared. Titus introduced the bishop to the two young women before supper. Both women resolved not to let the warning from Claudius influence their judgment but it was soon apparent Claudius had spoken nothing but the truth.
Bishop Ffolkes took social rank seriously and addressed Mr. Malfoy simply as "M'Lord," while the churchman did not address the young Irish Catholic woman at all. It is not clear how much the bishop actually ate, since he spent most of his time lecturing Titus Malfoy on the evils of the Tithe Commutation Act which would be considered in Parliament that fall and urging his host to vote against the proposal to allow Dissenters and Catholics to pollute the sacred bonds of marriage in England, "These Newmanites would bring back Popish superstition and wooden shoes! I can't believe Oxford has fallen into such a state they allow such ideas to spread like a blight."
The curate wisely said nothing, knowing that his superior would resent any words he uttered because it would mean less time for the bishop to express his own opinions.
Claudius kept filling the bishop's glass with claret, and Titus did nothing to discourage his son. Mr. Prewett could see Kitty's growing agitation and without even knowing her reputation for anger still had sufficient presence of mind to ask the bishop about Norman architecture.
Accompanied by his curate the bishop retired, on unsteady legs, before the end of the meal - pleading he was tired from his travels and needed rest.
"His grace was, um, not himself this evening," Mr. Prewett stammered by way of apology to Kitty.
"Nonsense, Matthias," Claudius chuckled, "If he hadn't been himself it could only have been an improvement."
Vivien penned a note to Elizabeth that evening. She wondered how many owls the Malfoys kept and knew she should not send them all to Elizabeth.
Dear Lizzy,
You will not believe how Kitty dressed today
for riding – trousers! She also caused a
scandal by disobeying the wishes of Mr.
Malfoy. One should never anger one's
host. We were introduced to a portrait
of Mr. Malfoy's late wife. She must have
been a very sensible woman. I think I
ride very well, but Kitty insisted I will
need a great deal of practice before the
hunt this weekend. Apparently the Malfoys
are very respected by the muggles too. Did
I tell you yesterday that he is a baron? I
can't recall. I was so giddy from my arrival
and the beauty of the house I might have
forgotten. In any case, the bishop values
Mr. Malfoy's hospitality so much he invites
himself to stay when he is nearby. I wonder
if he will perform the ceremony? The
wedding will be much too fine for the
Diagon church. It has been a long day and
I am tired from this morning's ride, but I
had to write these lines to let you know
what is happening in my quest.
Love,
Vivien
Dogcarts... While small carts, meant to be pulled by a dog existed, dogcarts were common, country vehicles pulled by horses. The driver/passengers sat on storage area suitable for carrying dogs. It was a fairly small vehicle with easy storage and eminently practical.
In Victorian times the etiquette books detailed what styles of clothing, in what materials, and what mourning rituals were appropriate for the loss of various levels of family. The gentry class would have already known appropriate forms of mourning, and the emerging middle class would slavishly follow the dictates of the etiquette books. Women were expected to mourn husbands longer than men were expected to mourn wives. (And Victoria went overboard in mourning for Prince Albert.)
The Oxford Movement began publishing Tracts for the Times in 1833 and eventually led many high-church Anglicans back to Catholicism. John Henry Newman was an early Tractarian writer/leader.
If you really care you can check on the Tithe Commutation Act and Norman Rood screens at Wikipedia. The rood screens had gone out of fashion centuries earlier and been removed from most churches, but the Romantic movement created a delight in discovering old architecture and bringing earlier styles back to life – hence the Neo-Gothic/Gothic Revival style of the new Parliament building (design approved 1836) and hundreds of 19th century U.S. churches.
