Thank God, Ron thought. Rachel looked to be deep in thought up there in the front seat, so anything they did should go unnoticed right now. They were only about five minutes away from home, and he really wanted to talk to them before they got there. "Oi, Fred, George," he whispered.
The twins' heads rose from the parchment they'd been scribbling on. "What?" asked George.
"I don't think she's heard of You-Know-Who," Ron said, tilting his head toward Rachel. "I mean, if the Americans are getting all bent out of shape about implied rudeness toward muggles, shouldn't they be, I dunno, really pissed or something about You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters? But then, how could they not know? I know the Ministry's denying it, but shouldn't they have at least heard the rumors?"
Fred and George looked at each other with matching expressions. Somehow, they looked both pleased and disappointed. Ron realized in an instant that Fred and George had thought the same thing he had and probably hadn't thought it would occur to him. Was that what they were scribbling on the parchment about?
"I dunno, Ron," George said.
"But Mum said once that Americans tend to ignore problems that they perceive aren't their responsibility or don't affect their lives," Fred added.
"We thought Mum was being bitter about…whatever it was she was on about at the time, but maybe she was right," George said.
Ron was worried. Fred and George didn't do serious – they were practically allergic to it. And he didn't see what was so dire. Yeah, maybe Americans didn't look beyond the end of their nose, but was that really so bad? Or even their problem? "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But so what if it's true? It's not like we can't fight You-Know-Who without their help. We did before, right?"
"Well, what if You-Know-Who also noticed the Americans not noticing him?" asked Fred.
"And what if he noticed that they were more or less a society of blood traitors?"
"Do you think he might decide to do something about it?"
"How long've you two been talkin' about this? An' when were you gonna let me in?" Ron hissed.
George held up the parchment for Ron to see; it was covered in questions, theories, and what looked like one or two new joke ideas. At least the jokes are still in there, Ron thought, feeling a little less worried – at least something was still normal. He looked up as the car began to slow down. They were pulling up to the house. Ron only time to ask one more question.
"So, what are we gonna tell her?"
Molly Weasley was wonderful. She was a little over-zealous with the hugging, but she was warm and kind and she made breakfast! And it was real breakfast – the kind of things that clog your arteries. You never saw any of this stuff on Mom's table, Rachel thought. Stupid healthy crap…
Over breakfast, Rachel learned quite a bit about the Weasleys. Percy, who had just gotten his own flat, sounded quite a bit like Todd, but Percy actually sounded worse. And Rachel hadn't thought that was possible. Bill and Charlie sounded pretty cool, though she thought Charlie had to be insane to be around dragons on purpose. The only girl, Ginny, was staying for a few days with a friend from school, and Molly sounded concerned about it. She's probably just over-protective of her only daughter, Rachel thought.
But something was weird; Rachel just couldn't put her finger on what it was. Something seemed slightly strained, like everyone was vaguely nervous or worried, but about what? At first she thought it was her, but the boys didn't even know that she was Garou, and they didn't seem scared of her anyway. But it was something. She looked over at the boys; they kept glancing at each other and fidgeting in their seats…and possibly passing notes…weird. Grrr, she wanted to know what was going on, but she didn't want to be impolite. She just hoped they decided to let her in on whatever it was soon…before her patience wore thin or curiosity drove her insane.
After breakfast Molly showed Rachel around the house a bit, ending the tour with the room Rachel would be staying in. It had been Percy's and indeed it looked like its last inhabitant had been pretty anal. It was very neat, tidy and aggressively boring. Rachel had just begun to unpack some of her stuff when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" she called out.
"Hey, Rachel. Are you busy?" asked Ron. Fred and George were right behind him.
Thank Gaia, Rachel thought, she wouldn't have to wait long. "Nah, not particularly. Come on in. You gonna tell me what's been bugging you guys since the car ride?"
They looked a bit sheepish. "Sorry about that," Ron mumbled, looking intently at his feet.
"Didn't realize we were that obvious," Fred added.
"We were just trying to figure out how to tell you 'bout some things," George said, scratching his head.
"Got it worked out now, huh? Wanna sit?" Rachel asked, gesturing toward the bed. She sat in the only chair.
"Thanks. Erm, like George said, we've been trying to figure out how to tell you about some stuff, and we figured we should probably begin at the beginning. Anyway, there was this dark wizard…"
Rachel listened for hours and hours. They told her about the rise of Voldemort, though none of them would say the name. Ron had known that Rachel would ask though, so he'd written it down on a scrap of paper. And after she'd read the name, Ron had destroyed it. Wow, she thought, paranoia was an art form here.
They told her about the Death Eaters, the dark years when they were very young, Voldemort's destruction and Harry Potter, the boy who lived. They told her how everyone knew his name, about his scar that linked him to You-Know-Who, and about the person he actually was.
Then Ron told her about his adventures with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, his two best friends. He told her about the teachers that helped them and the teachers who made their lives hell. By the end of the tale it was late afternoon, and Rachel's head was spinning… Three headed dogs, evil professors, Tom Riddle, werewolves, escaped prisoners, the Triwizard Tournament, and more, and it all seemed to center on Harry Potter. Rachel knew only one thing – what her first question was.
"I've never heard about any of that. How is it that I've never heard a word about this back home?"
"Yeah," said Fred.
George added, "That was our question too."
Rachel didn't know what to say to that. She leaned forward, massaging her eyes. She suddenly felt very tired and very small. She couldn't think about this part of it right now; there were too many things she needed clarified first.
"Okay, we'll come back to that in a bit, maybe even tomorrow after I've gotten some sleep. Right now I'd like to know why you were doing all of these things yourselves. Why didn't you go to any of your teachers? Has it been truly necessary for you to keep trying to get yourselves killed?"
Ron looked taken aback. "No, I mean…we've gotten help from teachers. It's just, it's not like we're trying to get ourselves killed. Trouble seems to keep finding us is all."
Fine, she should have known not to ask a child a question like that. He was still young and invincible…except that he wasn't. Only weeks ago, a classmate had died. Hmm, maybe it wasn't just about being young and stupid; maybe they didn't usually trust adults.
"Okay, then. There's one other thing I need to know before I get to the more complicated questions. Has Harry ever thanked Professor Snape for saving his life?"
They were all fishmouthing. Clearly, they all thought she was insane.
"Okay, I'll take that as a no. Now, since I have so much food for thought, I'd like to give all of you something thing to think about as well. Do you think Snape dislikes Harry so much partly because he thinks Harry has something of a cavalier attitude toward his own safety and is somewhat ungrateful toward those who try to protect him?"
Rachel knew better than to voice the thought that Snape was probably also pretty disgusted that Harry and his pals kept taking matters into their own hands. If she were a teacher, that would piss her off to no end.
"I mean, you've described several occasions where Snape was trying to keep Harry safe, yet Harry has never seen fit to say thank you or even to apologize for thinking that it was Snape who was trying to kill him. Nasty guy or not, isn't that at least a little cruel?"
Well, their mouths had shut, but now they were looking at her like…like she was a grown-up… Yeah, it definitely hadn't occurred to them before that she was an adult, but now they'd found her out. And she'd just asked them to be responsible, and they were definitely disappointed about it. Now they were likely to be uncomfortable around her.
Well, Rachel thought, Arthur was probably going to tell the boys about her Garou-ness tomorrow while she was talking to Professor Dumbledore, so they'd be uncomfortable around her even if she hadn't shown them her true colors. And she knew she was unlikely to get anything more out of them today. Best to try again tomorrow, when she'd had time to sleep and to figure out how to ask difficult questions without further alienating them. Before she did that, though, she was going to speak with their parents…but later, after she'd had a nap.
"Look, I think we all have a lot to think about right now. And I've had about three hours of sleep in the last…" Rachel glanced at her watch. Crap, they'd been talking for over five hours. "…twenty-seven hours. Can we pick this back up tomorrow?"
They all nodded. The three boys said goodbye and filed out of her room. But Ron turned to look at her as he moved to close the door. "Look, we'll think about what you asked us to, yeah. But wait till you meet Snape. I'm tellin' ya…he just hates everyone. Just wait…"
Rachel felt slightly disoriented when she woke. It took her a few moments to remember where she was and why she'd been dreaming about a creepy, reptilian guy for the first time since she was a kid and watched V. Ick, she thought, Voldemort. It just seemed weird to her that no one would say his name. But, judging by the boys' reactions to the name, she figured it would be easier not to speak it herself. No doubt about it, she thought, a smirk spreading across her face, she had to call him 'V'. It stood for Voldemort, not Visitors, but it was still funny in her brain. It was just too bad that no one else would get the reference.
Rachel smiled to herself and stood up. She was starving. Well it was getting dark already, so she'd definitely slept through dinner. She picked up her watch and was shocked to see that it was six-thirty a.m. Okay, it was not getting dark. It was getting light. Assuming that the ol' jet lag had caught up with her after all, Rachel stretched out, grateful that there was enough space for her to do morning workout. She chose to go with Tai Chi rather than her usual Judo, hoping it would help her center her thoughts and take care of a little of her nervous energy.
A half hour later she felt much better – calmer, more centered, but still distressingly unprepared for what the day might bring. Rachel figured she might as well hit the shower, as the house was still very quiet. She could take a leisurely shower guilt-free, and maybe someone else would be awake by the time she was out.
It was nearly forty minutes later when Rachel made her way downstairs. She heard some noise coming from the kitchen and headed in that direction. There was a small brown owl sitting on the kitchen table munching on a piece of toast and Molly Weasley was sitting nearby reading the letter it had brought. She looked up as Rachel walked in.
"Rachel dear, this owl has just arrived from Hogwarts. The Headmaster wants you to meet him this morning rather than this afternoon, if that's alright."
Something probably came up, she thought…headmasterly duties or something. "Not a problem. What time?"
"Eight o'clock. The Headmaster's office will be temporarily connected to the floo network, but only for half a minute. I'm quite relieved that you're already dressed. I expect you'll need to grab your things, and I'll put on a pot of tea. Is that all right dear?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Good thing I don't have to get much together, isn't it?"
This was just great…she wouldn't get a chance to talk to the boys before she left. Rachel hoped they weren't still sore about her mini-lecture, but would settle for proof that they'd paid at least some attention to it. And she'd have liked to talk with their parents before she went to Hogwarts. Already she could feel her earlier calm dissipating…dammit. Rachel felt woefully unprepared to speak to the Headmaster. She wasn't sure whether to commend him for being honest with the students or to berate him for letting some of them get away with putting themselves at risk over and over again.
And would she feel comfortable bringing her sisters into the situation? Her gut told her 'hell no!' but her mind told her to she should at least talk to the man before she made that decision.
Rachel went back upstairs and packed Robert, her sisters' list and a few other necessities into her backpack, grabbed her coat and headed back to the kitchen.
Molly was just putting out some toast when she returned.
"Here you are, dear. Professor Dumbledore will certainly provide breakfast, but as you missed supper I thought you'd like to have a bit of toast before you go."
"Thanks, Molly. I appreciate it," Rachel said and proceeded to butter a slice of toast. She glanced at her watch; she could eat her toast and drink a cup of tea in five minutes, but that was about it. She had really wanted to talk to Molly about her concerns regarding Voldemort and whether she felt her children were safe at Hogwarts, but certainly didn't want to start that conversation if she didn't have time to finish it. So she simply drank her tea, ate her toast and tried get her focus back.
But Molly's voice cut in all too soon. "It's time, Rachel. All set?"
"As I'll ever be," Rachel grumbled as she stood and heaved her backpack onto her shoulder.
"Here you are," Molly said as she held out a bag of floo powder. "You'll need to shout 'Professor Dumbledore's Office,' alright?"
"Thank you. Oh, before I forget, do I come back the same way?"
"Professor Dumbledore hasn't specified in his note, but I believe so. Now go quickly before time's up!"
Rachel took a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire, thanked Molly again for the hospitality, shouted "Professor Dumbledore's Office!" and stepped into the green flames.
Rachel emerged in a very interesting circular room – Ron had described it to her, but seeing it was something else entirely. The walls were almost entirely covered with paintings of previous headmasters and headmistresses. Just a few more, she thought, and they'd run out of wall space. And the silver contraptions sitting around, whirring and smoking on tables were very odd indeed. Standing behind the large claw-footed desk was a very old man with twinkling blue eyes, his navy robes decorated with silver moons and stars. Pretty, Rachel thought, though perhaps a bit too sparkly.
"Hello, Miss Ayanami. Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Good morning Professor Dumbledore. And thank you for seeing me, sir." Yeah, that was a better opening than the alternate greeting (Are you completely insane? As an adult and the Headmaster of a school, don't you realize that every effort should be made to ensure that the students are kept safe? Including little Gryffindor lunatics who should have proven by now that they need to be watched like hawks?) that she'd been contemplating.
Dumbledore smiled and said, "Of course, my dear. And I must apologize for rescheduling our meeting. Won't you have a seat? Oh, and…" Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and a large platter of food appeared on his desk.
"Please help yourself, child. We have a great deal to cover today, but first I have taken the liberty of putting together some information for you."
Dumbledore held out several sheaves of parchment, which Rachel took and began to glance through. Were they…holy crap! Rachel took out her sisters' list to make certain, but she could swear…yep, the parchments contained detailed responses to every single question, including the current book list for each course, each teacher's extra credit policy, etc. How? And if all those questions were answered, what did Dumbledore mean by 'we have a great deal to cover today'? Rachel raised her head to look at the Headmaster, confusion written all over her face. And he had a broad smile on his. What?
"I received an owl yesterday from a Miss Leah Ayanami. She sent a note, thanking me for taking the time to speak with her sister, and also a list of questions. I believe your sister felt the need to ensure I was properly prepared. And now you will have more time to berate me for endangering the lives of my students."
"Sir, I wouldn't…I mean I don't…"
Dumbledore raised his hand in a placating gesture. "Shhh, it is alright, Miss Ayanami. I expect that Ron has told you stories of his, Harry's and Hermione's adventures over the past four years. I am pleased that you are concerned for their safety. But the children do not know everything that happens in this school, and they do not know how many dangers have been entirely averted without their knowledge."
Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked at Rachel seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "But I expect one of your greatest concerns is Voldemort, and that Harry seems to have far too much contact with him. What I am about to tell you, Miss Ayanami, does not leave this room."
"Of course, sir. And please call me Rachel."
"Very well, if you will call me Albus. There was a prophecy many years ago, about Harry Potter. The gist is that it predicted what happened when Harry was an infant and indicates that one will be the death of the other. Voldemort knows of the prophecy's existence, but does not know its content. He does know that Harry is a threat to him, and will continue to come after the boy. It would be irresponsible of me, knowing what his future holds, to keep Harry completely cut off from Voldemort. Harry must face Voldemort; it is his destiny. Though I protect the boy where I can, were I to keep him locked away, safe from everything, he would be paralyzed by his fear of Voldemort, like everyone else. Harry is frightened of him, of course, but he has already learned to control it. Voldemort will keep coming for Harry, but Harry will continue to fight back."
Rachel was stunned…completely stunned. Whatever she had expected, it hadn't been this. But now there was an idea forming in the back of her mind… She had to know.
"Pro…Albus, do any of the professors know about this prophecy?"
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brightly. "Yes, one."
Rachel immediately replied, "Snape."
"Yes, and I believe you have a theory."
"Well, I have an idea. It seems to me that Snape has partly helped Harry to control his fear of 'the scary'."
"In part, yes. I fear, though, he does truly dislike the boy, but that's neither here nor there. I would actually like to assure you that the events of this past year have caused us to reevaluate our safety measures. The Polyjuice Potion has indeed proved to be a problem, and we are seeking a solution. I trust you have heard of the Marauder's Map?" Rachel nodded. "As Polyjuice does not fool it, we are working on a variant of the map. By September first we will have a map-room. It will track the movements of all occupants of the castle, and an alarm will sound if any unauthorized individuals enter the castle. Unlike the Marauder's Map, the information will also be saved, that we may review any portion, if necessary, to check the movements of the students, instructors and any invited guests over a period of time."
"So basically you're installing a sort of surveillance camera?"
"Yes."
"Cool. That actually takes care of most of my concerns. There's really only one other thing."
Professor Dumbledore motioned for Rachel to continue.
"While I believe the students here are getting a first rate magical education, I'm concerned that they aren't being taught any basic self-defense. If, for example, they are disarmed, how are they supposed to defend themselves? I think it would give the kids a real advantage if they had one or two years of a self-defense or martial arts class."
"You have studied martial arts yourself?"
"Yes, I studied several while I was growing up."
"And were you merely interested in martial arts, or did you already know you were Garou?"
"Oh no, I was just interest…" and shock silenced her. She hadn't told him, and Leah certainly wouldn't have either, so how?
"One of the wards on the school alerts us to the arrival of Garou. Only the three members of staff who are aware of your people's existence are alerted."
"And who are the other two?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled mischievously. "That, my dear, would be telling."
So, it was for him to know and her to find out, Rachel thought.
Suddenly, Dumbledore looked quite serious. The impish playfulness had gone completely. "Now, I must admit something. I rescheduled our meeting for a reason. I learned something of great concern this morning, something that needs my immediate attention. As luck would have it, however, a solution seems to have presented itself."
Okay, what the hell did that mean? "Go on Albus."
"I learned this morning that Voldemort is attempting to recruit Black Spiral Dancers for his cause."
And Rachel's stomach dropped…and so did her mouth. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, don't… "You can't recruit Spirals! They serve the Wyrm, the very spirit of corruption, not its little minions. If he did actually convince some to join him, they'd turn on him the moment they thought it was in their best interest. Is he fucking insane?!"
That earned her a chuckle. "Actually, that does seem to be the consensus."
Rachel half-smiled, "I apologize for the yelling…and the expletive." She closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her forehead, thinking about what Albus had told her. 'As luck would have it…a solution…presented itself.' Did that mean what she thought it meant?
"A solution presented itself, eh?"
"Miss Ayanami, would you like a job?"
All her life, and especially in the past few years, Rachel had looked at every opportunity, every fight, every single situation from as many angles as she could think of, before she made a decision. She never made a snap decision. Never.
"Yes."