PRINCIPLES AND HONOR
By NewMewn
Warnings: AU, EWE.
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers, etc., etc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I'm just takin' the characters for a little ride.
oOo
Chapter 8
Nadia's mind raced following the meeting in the Headmaster's office. Veritaserum had compelled her to reveal things that she preferred to keep private. Still, the experience was far more pleasant than Snape's poking about in her head, and at least Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed easier about her presence, making her feel, well, less unwelcome.
Her wide eyes darted about the room. Elves, he said! In the suite at night! Why wasn't there a word about them in the Hogwarts history book? She shuddered.
Still, she couldn't help but look around and under furniture, behind the drapes. Nothing was there, but someone had been. The dinner dishes were gone, as was the tea mug stain on the side table. Nadia dashed into the bathroom, discovering freshly laid towels and a clean glass.
The old wizard and witch hadn't seemed concerned, only somewhat sympathetic. So surely there's no danger from these elf things, she told herself.
Returning to the main room, she sat, her mind still on elves. Dumbledore had described them as wanting to serve. Perhaps they were like folk tales' brownies, helpful little creatures that came in the night. Should she be leaving a glass of milk for them?
Gradually, Nadia became calm. Deep, rhythmic breathing and inward focus allowed her to slip into a prayerful state and a sense of peace washed over her.
oOo
At mid-morning, a weary, rheumatic Filch called on her with Dumbledore's request that she go to his office. The halls were empty and she heard a snatch of lecture echoing from a far classroom as she walked behind the lumbering caretaker. The overly thin Mrs. Norris scampered ahead, keeping close to the walls.
The Headmaster rose with a delighted greeting as she entered and motioned her to the fireside seating area, where a tea set awaited them. With graceful wand movements, he poured tea in two of the four cups and floated one to her.
"I am aware that you are due to return home in a few days and that your current inability to return is of much concern." His blue eyes emitted sympathy. "I'm afraid that you should expect to be here beyond your holiday period. You are, of course, most welcome to stay at Hogwarts as long as need be."
She bit her lower lip, gripping the as yet unused teacup's handle. "But if I can't get back home, I won't have a job or anywhere to live." Dumbledore began to speak, but she continued, looking anxiously around the room. "I mean, how could I explain why I've missed my plane and subsequent possible flights? What plausible excuse could I have? 'Oh, I was hanging out in a witchcraft school. You know, learning how to do magic.'"
She nervously placed her cup and saucer on the table and began wringing her hands as a myriad of worries overcame her. Dumbledore reached over to pat her hands, leaving one atop hers.
"My dear, I realize you are perhaps a bit frightened. I wish only the best outcome for all of us. There is a way to safeguard your home and job." She looked up in mute surprise, and he smiled encouragingly. "A dear friend of mine is very experienced in the Muggle world. In fact, she was married to an American Muggle and lived many years there until he died. She has agreed to impersonate you for a time."
"I-I don't understand."
"A potion called Polyjuice allows one to take on the form of another."
That revelation seemed not to register with Miss Beasley. Instead, her mind focused on more practical issues.
"But she won't know what to do."
"Devawn Chittleham is the witch who can take your place. She and her husband owned a business for 40 years. She acted as receptionist, secretary and bookkeeper. She even owns a computer and—what do you call it?—an automobile." He continued as Nadia goggled. "She is imminently qualified to 'fit in.' Devawn is Muggle-born, and since leaving Hogwarts has lived largely as a Muggle, though she's kept her wand in Charms and Potions. She has time on her hands and is quite willing to stand in for you."
A great weight seemed to lift from the young woman. Her hands relaxed at last, and Dumbledore sat back, taking a sip of his cooling tea.
Somewhat recovered, Nadia decided she should address the corresponding issue on her mind. "This has to be terribly inconvenient for you and the school. So long as I'm in your hair, I'm perfectly willing to earn my keep. I can cook, clean, wash clothes, do yard work—"
"All what the house-elves do." Dumbledore smiled gently.
"I could at least keep up wherever I'm to stay. If you could just tell me where to find a vacuum . . . "
The old man pitied her helpless expression. "My dear, the key thing with house-elves is that their very happiness depends on serving us. If I were to tell the elf assigned to your rooms that you will be doing the cleaning yourself, she would be extremely upset and, indeed, punish herself for an apparent job poorly done. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"Punish herself?" Nadia was genuinely horrified. "No! Of course not."
She had adjusted only slightly to the idea of house-elves, and this new bit of information was startling. Merely cleaning up after herself could cause of the creatures to harm itself?
Just then a sharp rap sounded from the door, and McGonagall and Snape entered. Dumbledore nodded to them but continued the conversation as the two teachers joined them, Minerva taking a chair and Snape standing in the shadow next to the fireplace.
"I will continue searching for means to return you home, of course," the Headmaster promised. "Meanwhile, we mustn't keep you closeted. How would you like to work in a school for witches and wizards?" He dangled the prospect like a sugar cookie before a child.
"Really?" Nadia's eyes sparkled. This could be quite an adventure! But survival instinct kicked in. Children learning magic. That might not be a good combination . . .
"Is it, uh, safe?" Dumbledore's eyebrows shot upward, and she scrambled to clarify. "I mean, if the students are just learning magic, things go wrong, right? Could it be dangerous to be around that?"
"Precautions are taken to protect them—and others—from wayward magic. That's why we have such rules as no magic in the corridors," Minerva said firmly. Dumbledore nodded in confirmation.
"Rules are broken, of course," Snape put in smoothly. "It is not uncommon for innocent bystanders to wind up in the hospital wing."
"Such incidents are exceedingly rare and the perpetrators are punished," Dumbledore said sharply, leveling a cool stare at the Head of Slytherin. Softening his demeanor, he turned to Nadia. "The possibility of such errors is among the reasons I wish for you to work closely with staff, so that you cannot be in the position of being accidentally harmed."
His reasoned explanation assured her. Dumbledore's and McGonagall's censuring expressions led her to believe that Snape had a penchant for causing discomfort.
Realizing this had become somewhat of a job interview, she composed herself.
"I've spent years writing reports, researching, filing, and filling in all kinds of forms, from internal to those for the government," she offered eagerly. "Quite frankly, I haven't always understood some when starting, but I've always been quick to figure it out, and have gotten outstanding appraisals for my work."
Snape grunted disdainfully, earning a reproachful glance from Dumbledore who then returned his attention to the guest.
"I did earn a college degree, professor," Nadia said to Snape. "I may not know much about your world, but I'm no simpleton."
She focused back Hogwarts' top administrators. Snape merely smirked in response to her defensive statement.
"Since there's a wizard government, I imagine you have a great deal of tedious paperwork that even a novice could complete, freeing you to focus more on lessons. I excel at research and could lend a lot of help in that area." Nadia paused for breath during the quick-paced sell. "I read the Muggle Studies textbook, and it's—well, the author apparently doesn't know much about us. I could certainly provide better information. I can do filing, run errands—anything you need." She leaned forward eagerly, searching their faces.
Dumbledore shifted his position, placing his elbows on the chair arms and thoughtfully steepled his fingers. McGonagall cocked her head to one side and seemed almost embarrassed for the woman, who clearly wanted to help rather than to hinder. Arms folded across his chest, Snape was the picture of contempt, suspicious of the uneducated trespasser seeking to become involved at Hogwarts. Nadia flinched slightly under his gaze and wondered how much say he had in the matter.
"Thank you, Miss Beasley," the Headmaster said, his eyes crinkling and his voice warm. "You obviously have a great many skills, and we appreciate"—at "we," Snape snorted softly, which Dumbledore chose to ignore—"your ideas and gracious offer. You understand that we cannot reveal your true identity to the students and most of the staff? A Muggle's presence here would be inexplicable." He omitted unacceptable, McGonagall thought, and unwanted, Snape thought.
"Of course, of course." Nadia nodded tentatively.
"Good." Dumbledore turned slightly toward his desk, snapped his fingers and red ribbon-bound parchment sailed to her. "I've taken the liberty of devising a background for you. Please be sure to study it today. At dinner time, you shall join us in the Great Hall for dinner—your debut. And tomorrow you will begin working with Professors McGonagall and Snape. Your schedule is included."
Loosely clutching the scroll, she returned his smile.
"But first," Dumbledore continued, "I want to assure you that your job and home are not jeopardized. After dinner, we shall meet with Mrs. Chittleham so that she may familiarize herself with you and your work. Is that agreeable?"
"I think so," she said, still dazed.
Dumbledore rose and extended his hand. She quickly stood and pressed the gnarled hand, surprised at its strength, and nodded pleasantly to him. Minerva, who had helped herself to tea, smiled from over her cup. Despite the shadow over his face, she could see Snape's eyes glittering at her. "Mr. Filch will walk you to your rooms. If you have need of anything, please feel free to pull the bell pull in the bedroom. I'll see you at dinner."
"Thank you. You're very kind," Nadia replied, shaking his hand, then nodding to McGonagall and the half-hidden Snape.
Motioning the young woman toward the door, Dumbledore glanced backwards and lifted his brows to his employees, and then followed her and entered the circular staircase hallway behind her. Closing the door softly, he looked down at her upturned face, which evinced wonder, fear, and tentative excitement.
"I understand how disconcerting this must be for you," he said kindly. "I promise that we will take good care of you."
Relief flooding her face, she unexpectedly flung her arms about the wizened man in a fierce hug. Chuckling, Dumbledore sent her down the stairs.
"By the way, Miss B," he called. "We 'dress' for dinner!"
oOo
"She is going to be nothing but a ridiculous distraction in the classroom, and undoubtedly she'll require more 'help' in learning the paperwork than it would take for me to do it myself," Snape said petulantly after the Headmaster returned. "I cannot imagine all of the students believing that she's . . . magical." He pulled a face as if couldn't bring himself to use the word witch—which, indeed, he could not. "We will soon be peppered with questions from parents and the Ministry."
McGonagall listened with pressed lips to her young colleague's harangue, while Dumbledore took it in stride.
"Oh, I don't think it will be all as bad as that, Severus. I have already owled an explanation to the Board of Governors. That is here, with her schedule." The Headmaster handed two parchments to each of them. "The students are far too busy to be concerned about a new staff member who will largely be in the background. You may even find her contributions relieve you of some of your burden."
Minerva jumped in. "It will give you more time to plot Slytherin's next Quidditch and House Cup victories." Her mouth twisted in challenge to Snape.
Severus's eyes narrowed as he glanced peripherally at his former teacher, weighing whether she jested or was serious. His eyes shifted to Dumbledore. "How long, Headmaster, do you think we will play this charade before we are free of the intruder?"
"I've no idea. But I suggest that we take advantage of her services—and treat her as a valued colleague and honored guest in the meantime," he answered pointedly.
The muscles in Snape's jaw tensed. I must return for the next class—and, apparently, there will be plenty of time to continue this discussion later, he thought sourly. He nodded curtly to the Headmaster and rose. "I shall leave you both now. Time to return to Potions—and see if I can catch any wayward Gryffindors." Glancing sideways at the Minerva and with a ghost of a sneer playing on his lips, he whirled and swept from the room.
oOo
With scant minutes before his next class began, Snape strode into his office, tossed the parchments onto his desk, and planted both of his hands against the mantlepiece, his head falling forward.
Damn that old man! Allowing the Muggle to roam Hogwarts, albeit under his and Minerva's scrutiny, was folly. It would raise too many questions, especially among the Board of Governors, which included the likes of Lucius Malfoy. Unless Dumbledore was able to deflect attention away from the woman, suspicions would be aroused and spread to Malfoy's friends and vassals. Snape could only hope they would be distracted by rumors of the Dark Lord regaining some of his powers.
It was one more pressure he personally could do without. Just like Albus to add to the load, he thought bitterly.
Vigorously shaking back his stringy hair, Snape pushed himself away from the rough rock and turned. His hands smoothed his practical yet elegantly cut black robes while his sharp eyes zeroed in on Dumbledore's letter. It had better be a good story. He squared his shoulders, narrowed his eyes and exited the office, rapidly and silently bound for the Potions classroom.
He flung open the door. The Third Years twitched and jumped, and those still standing scrambled for their chairs.
"Settle down," he warned. Closing the door, he strode forward and with a wand cast revealed the day's lesson on the blackboard. "Turn to page forty-four . . . "
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A/N: Sorry to have taken so long with this chapter. Other obligations demanded much time. I shall endeavor to do better. * Many thanks to the marvelous Noleme for cleaning up the cobwebs and pointing out a couple of housekeeping omissions in this chapter.