Overall story summary: At the start of Potter's second year at Hogwarts, additional duties fall on Severus Snape's shoulders with the arrival of an unexpected—and unwanted—guest. Overall story occurs from CoS to post-DH, disregarding the Epilogue.
Warnings: AU, EWE. Rating may increase in later chapters.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made by the humble (and quite poor) fanfic author, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
oOo
Principals and Honor
CHAPTER 9
Filch's suspicious glance seemed to be enough to keep students at bay as he walked "Miss Beecham" back to Southeast Tower. Once they caught sight of the scrawny cat or trailing caretaker, children loitering in the hallways during the staff break made a run for the study halls and library, mindful that they might otherwise lose house points. With a reluctantly polite nod, Filch deposited her at the tower's entrance, and she excitedly ran up the stairs, clutching Dumbledore's parchments.
She made a beeline for the secretary desk, moving aside the inkwell before quickly untying and unfurling the surprisingly long papers. The top parchment contained details about her temporary home and job responsibilities, all elegantly executed in black ink:
Work schedule
Monday through Friday
Half-past eight: Staff meeting, staff room (Ground Floor)
Nine o'clock to eleven forty-five: Assist the Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration Classroom and Minerva McGonagall's Office (first floor)
One to five o'clock: Assist Professor Severus Snape, Potions Classroom and Office (dungeon)
Breaks: Individual schedules allowing, twenty-minute staff breaks may be taken in the staff room or offices Monday through Friday at half-past ten and three o'clock. A weekly schedule assigns staff to patrol halls during breaks and class-long study halls.
Meals
Meals are served in the Great Hall (ground floor) for forty-five minutes from start time. Staff dines at the High Table.
Weekday meals are served at half-past seven, noon, and half-past five. Saturday and Sunday meals are served at nine, one, and six o'clock. Tea, snacks, and meals in your suite may be obtained through your house-elf. The Staff Room also stocks tea supplies. Please be aware that mail delivery, via multiple owls, occurs during breakfast.
Building and grounds access
The Library (Fourth Floor) is open until eight o'clock nightly, opening at eight o'clock Monday through Friday and nine o'clock Saturday and Sunday. You may check out any book except those in the Restricted Section. Due to inherent dangers, you may enter this section only in the physical presence of a member of the teaching staff or myself; and you may check out a Restricted Section book only with written permission of a Head of House or myself.
The Staff Room is always open. A general office and classroom supplies room is in the rear. Individual staff members maintain specialty supplies in or near their classrooms. Please consult staff before entering any specialty supplies areas.
The Hospital Wing (First Floor) is supervised by Madame Pomfrey. She maintains all medical supplies and will provide assistance if you become ill.
Common Rooms are accessible only by password. You may enter with permission from the Head of House or by student invitation.
Greenhouses are under the purview of Professor Sprout. Her permission is required before entering since many magical plants can be dangerous.
You have free access to the Hogwarts grounds during non-curfew daylight hours. The Enchanted Forest remains off-limits, as it is for students. For further safety, do no approach any animals unless accompanied by a competent staff member.
Words of caution: Staircases can be tricky. For the most part, they remain in place. I am aware of one, however, that sometimes swivels. Many unused classrooms and storage areas in Hogwarts are empty and may be used for study or to practice musical instruments. Do not leave any personal belongings to collect later because some rooms move, so you may not be able to find the same room twice. The Astronomy Tower provides an excellent view of the environs. If you wish to stargaze there, however, please do so only when accompanied by staff; you may ask permission of Professor Sinistra to observe an Astronomy class (midnight).
Assistant's Responsibilities
To carry out those duties assigned directly by the Deputy Headmistress and Potions Professor, subject to changes or additional instructions from the Headmaster. Work will take place primarily in the Transfiguration and Potions classrooms, the same offices and the Deputy Headmistress' office during class hours and at other places and times as required. The assistant will attend staff and other meetings as required.
No classes or office hours are scheduled on week-ends or holidays. However, as this is a boarding school, students are always present and you may be asked to assist staff.
"Hmmph." Nadia's mouth twisted as she thought. The job description certainly is vague. But at least it's more frank than adding the usual "other duties as assigned."
She pulled the other parchment from beneath and placed it on top.
Nadia Beecham
Born: 23 December 1960
Kaiser Hospital, Portland, Ore.
It was not the actual hospital in which she was born, but Nadia wondered how Dumbledore could know the name of any actual Portland hospital.
Parents: Darin Beecham and Ellen Pearson
Grandparents: David Beecham/Carolyn Smith, Adam Pearson/Josie Jones
Schools: Woodlawn, Roseway and Madison, Portland, Ore.; Portland State University
Gradually, a pattern emerged. The information listed was very close to the truth, just slightly off. For instance, the schools listed were located close to the ones she'd actually attended. It was a system that would allow her to easily memorize the false history, and more able to recite the information as fact.
The legend Dumbledore had created was that she was an American witch—Pureblood but poor, and her family had largely forgotten magic. That was why she did things "the Muggle way" and rarely carried a wand. She had learned of her magical ancestry barely a year earlier, was too old to enter the Salem Witches' Institute and was currently unqualified for American wizarding college. Her inquiries led a Salem official to suggest that she contact the influential Dumbledore about possibly securing a temporary assistant position, giving her exposure to the magical world and, perhaps, a good reference.
Shortly before noon, a spicy scent signaled lunch's magical delivery. Next to a hot plate filled with assorted Indian foods was a small, folded parchment, which Nadia plucked and unfolded with one hand as she hungrily forked up curried rice with the other. The missive read: I shall visit at five o'clock. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster
She spent the early afternoon memorizing the parchments and consulting Hogwarts: A History, particularly the castle maps. Using the Entrance Hall and Great Hall as landmarks would make it fairly easy to find the offices and classrooms she'd be working in, as well as the other locations Dumbledore had mentioned by name. And she could hardly wait to get outside, to stretch her legs and—most of all—to explore.
oOo
Promptly at three, a soft rap announced Dumbledore's arrival. Nadia greeted him at the door, and the two sat down before the fire.
"Did you have a chance to read your background?" he asked, his eyes twinkling as if in jest.
"Yes." She nodded. "It sounds plausible. But I have to ask: the Salem Witches' Institute?"
He broke into a chuckle. "It's real," he said, smiling broadly.
"You—Miss Beecham, that is—have not attended a wizarding institution, which is not unusual—most of the schools are difficult to enter because of limited enrollment and the costs, and the United States, unfortunately, has only the one college preparatory school. Some well-to-do American wizards send their children to schools in Canada and Continental Europe, but most are taught at home—if they learn much magic at all," Dumbledore explained.
"You see, the American wizarding community is largely assimilated with the Muggle community. There are some all-wizard communities, magically hidden from Muggle view, but you've never been to one." He sighed. "The Salem Witches' Institute would like for more magical education to be offered, more schools opened, but the trend over the last two hundred years has been toward assimilation. Therefore, there is a lack of interest, funding, and support. Young people like you, who are too old for the school must find other means to educate themselves. Apprenticeships and tutoring are among the few options."
This gave her a new view of her home country. Could it be that for all of these years, she'd unknowingly studied, worked, and lived among witches and wizards all along? It was mind-boggling.
"I have informed the Ministry of Magic that you are at Hogwarts to develop various skills so that you may one day return to America to privately tutor young witches and wizards," he continued. "You have agreed to provide staff assistance in return for instruction, room and board. Our Ministry wants to encourage good relations with overseas wizard folk." He raised his brows congenially. "Since your family doesn't have money and you are not being paid here, it won't raise suspicions that you remain on the Hogwarts grounds at all times. After all, to go into Hogsmeade or London means spending money."
Nadia nodded in understanding.
"Your responsibility is to remember and follow the cover story closely, and to do nothing that would raise suspicions amongst the students and other staff," the Headmaster emphasized. "You will be addressed in public by all as Miss Beecham. Most of the staff will probably call you by your Christian name when students aren't present, unless you ask them otherwise.
"Tonight you'll have the opportunity to meet my friend Devawn Chittleham, who is quite pleased to take your place. She's always wanted to visit the American West Coast. It meets your approval, I hope, that she will live in your apartment and take your job?"
"Yes, of course! I just don't understand how …"
"As you've read, magic doesn't always involve a wand and an incantation. Potions also can be used, and there is one called Polyjuice that allows one to take another person's form." He smiled at her surprise. "It's very simple. Devawn will just need a bit of hair from your brush. It's the key ingredient that will transform her into your image."
Nadia goggled, at a loss for words.
"You shall meet her in my office to discuss all of the details, particularly about your job and social life. She'll need to know who you know, what you do. Do you have any questions?"
"Well, yes." She looked the Headmaster in the eye. "Once this is over—when I go home—will I remember any of Hogwarts?"
His eyebrows rose slightly before he recalled that she had been allowed to read several basic magical texts. "No, my dear, I'm afraid not. We can't have a Muggle running around telling about Hogwarts, and if you did you might wind up in a mental institution. You would be given memories of a wonderful vacation and what Devawn, posing as you, did at work, just as if they were your own. It's all for the best, you see."
She nodded her understanding, then hesitated. "My friends, acquaintances—they won't know that something's, well, 'off'?"
"One of the reasons you should meet Devawn is for her to observe you and pick up your speech patterns and mannerisms as best she can," Dumbledore explained. "She's done this many times before and has never been discovered."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It might be helpful for you to know a few things about the teachers with whom you'll be working.
"Minerva McGonagall has been on staff since the 1950s. She was an outstanding Hogwarts student, and I was pleased when she agreed to teach Transfiguration and head Gryffindor. She is a strict but fair instructor, and has proven to be a very effective and welcome Deputy Headmistress. You can probably imagine the amount of responsibility she has with the three positions. The paperwork is heavy, and your help will be a boon to her.
"With a few temporary exceptions, Severus is our youngest staff member, having begun teaching here only three years after finishing Hogwarts. I am proud to say that he was one of Hogwarts' finest students ever, having achieved Outstandings on all but one N.E.W.T.—the tests given at the end of seventh year—and an Exceptional on the other. Severus is a brilliant Potions master. He is also head of Slytherin, which is a powerful House academically, in Quidditch and …otherwise.
"He has a reputation for being particularly stern and impatient. I believe that is from a combination of being an especially gifted wizard, the lack of socialization when he was a young boy, and perhaps a belief that he needs to prove himself on staff. Quite frankly, most of the students are afraid of him. Though he may intimidate you, I assure you that he does no harm." The old wizard smiled benignly.
"Given that this is a school of magic, there are some dangers. I trust Severus, and that includes entrusting your safety to him, as well as to Minerva. All of the staff takes seriously their responsibility to protect the school and everyone here, Severus more so than any other. If ever you sense or see any danger, you can turn to any staff member, but particularly to Severus, Minerva, or me." The old wizard smiled benignly. "And do pay particular heed in Potions. There is a potential for explosions or poisonous gases."
He glanced up at the mantle clock. "You'll need time to prepare for dinner. I trust you had a chance to consult the maps. Can you find your own way to the Great Hall?"
Nadia nodded eagerly. "Yes, it should be easy." She straightened in her chair, taking on a more formal demeanor. "I'm honored to work with all of you, and thank you, again, for this opportunity—and for accommodating me."
The Headmaster nodded kindly and stood up. "I shall leave you to prepare for dinner. Ah, and do bring your brush. But first, allow me to set the ward for you." Following his signal, she rose and moved toward the door.
"The ward?" she asked, as the door magically opened.
"Basically, the locking mechanism," he explained. "You can choose a password that will open and lock the door for you. Only Severus, Minerva and I will know it." The door closed, and Dumbledore murmured an incantation and tapped the door. "Now say the password you've selected."
Taking a deep breath, she spoke: "Faith." Noting the slight hitch in her breath, the old wizard nodded and tapped the door once again. The thick oak slab swung open to the sun-washed sitting room. "There. It is set. I look forward to seeing you at dinner."
He winked with obvious mischief. Her delighted laughter followed him as he headed down the spiral stairways.
oOo
Just before five-thirty, Nadia made her way through the Ground Floor corridor to her first public Hogwarts meal. From her first night's experience, the maps and Hogwarts: A History, she knew there would be four full tables of curious students, plus the staff. Some hurrying to the Great Hall glanced back at the stranger, but most were busy visiting or hurrying forth to fill their growling stomachs. Pausing at the huge doorway, she decided to walk along one of the walls rather than down the center to the High Table.
As she walked along the left side, students from all tables raised heads and turned, and a few hoots rose from a few Sixth and Seventh Year boys responding to the only formal clothes she'd packed. Her shapely legs clearly showed through the slinky black knit skirt's thigh-high side split, and décolletage peeked from the black tee-shirt's V-neck. Snape's eyes racked over her unapprovingly. He wasn't the least bit fooled by "Miss Beecham" walking with head held high; her initial near-trip at the first hoot was a dead giveaway to nervousness.
The Head Table was filled with an interesting assortment: Young and old, friendly and serious, a tiny fellow who apparently used a booster seat, and an absolute giant of a man with wild hair. All wore highly unusual clothing—which meant her Muggle garb marked her as the odd person out, she realized.
Dumbledore rose to greet Nadia and showed her to a chair at the end of the High Table, next to an exotic-looking woman. Professor Aurora Sinistra greeted her with regal formality, and the guest quickly took her seat, grateful that the embarrassing ordeal was over. But then the Headmaster rapped his glass with a spoon, calling for attention.
"It is my great pleasure to introduce to you Hogwarts' new assistant, Miss Nadia Beecham," he said, and following his hand signal, Nadia briefly rose, color flooding her cheeks. "Miss Beecham hails from America, the 'Wild West,' one might say. Some of you in Transfiguration and Potions classes will see her most often, but she may also occasionally assist with Muggle Studies. You will notice that as part of her upbringing in America she rarely uses magic, and we will honor that. Please give her every courtesy you would to any other staff, and greet her warmly."
Following the staff's lead, the students applauded, many gawking. Nadia scanned the room from beneath her eyelashes and observed a few students sniggering, at one table in particular. Those same students' eyes darted to Professor Snape, who raised a warning eyebrow. They quieted quickly, attention returned to their tablemates.
She jumped when the Headmaster clapped his hands and food magically appeared on the tables. This apparently was a regular dinner, but to her it was a holiday feast: Platters of broiled fish, smoked ham, and grilled lamb; potatoes au gratin, and couscous peppered with raisins and dates; crisp green salad with slivers of carrots and tomato wedges; steaming green beans with yellow pepper chunks; cornucopias of fruit; fresh-baked rolls and slices of bread; tea, coffee, wine, juices and water. The staff table also had selections of desserts. She wondered why the students' tables didn't until later in the meal, when they, too, had choice selections. Apparently, the powers-that-be (whatever they were) wanted to ensure the students ate nutritious food before the sweets.
"Ah, I have never met anyone from the American West," Sinistra said with a Middle Eastern accent. "Is it dangerous?"
"Um, dangerous?"
"The natives shoot the bows and arrows at the cowboys?" the sloe-eyed beauty asked seriously.
Nadia laughed. "Not anymore, just in the movies. It's the highways that are dangerous now."
The bejeweled and silk-swathed woman conversed easily throughout the meal, revealing that she was Iranian and taught astronomy. She had spent the summer months in the Australian Outback and Chile's Patagonia, observing the Southern sky and preparing a paper for presentation at an upcoming European conference.
Toward the end of dinner, Gilderoy Lockhart, the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, made a show of approaching the new aide, flashing his teeth and flattering her. Snape turned away, disgusted with the idiot author's prancing showiness and the ridiculous inclination females of all ages seemed to have for him.
The Headmaster rescued Miss Beecham by asking her to join him and Minerva in his office. Once upstairs, the two senior staff members reviewed with her some basic Ministry paperwork. Minerva gave Nadia a lesson in using a quill and parchment, well knowing the difficulties Muggle-borns had with the unfamiliar objects.
Devawn Chittleham Floo'd into the Headmaster's fireplace in a dramatically sputtering entrance. Nadia watched wide-eyed as the coughing and snorting Devawn dusted off a blue Muggle suit with a wildly patterned pink blouse. The woman was barely five-foot tall with thinning blonde hair, thick ankles, and appeared to be nearly 60 years old. It was hard to believe she could pull off the Polyjuice feat, but Nadia had to trust Dumbledore and the many incredible things she'd read and was gradually accepting as true. Dumbledore and McGonagall excused themselves, leaving the two younger women alone.
After expressing sympathy for Beecham's predicament, Chittleham deftly interviewed the American and took detailed notes about her work, and apartment complex. The witch's questions demonstrated detailed knowledge of everyday Muggle life, and Nadia was reassured that bills arriving at home would be promptly addressed.
Chittleham tilted her head. "You've made little mention of your family," she ventured.
Nadia's mouth pulled sideways with regret. "Well, we're not really close. My mother died in '86. Dad—Darrell—remarried in '89 and lives in Florida. We call each other on our birthdays, and he calls on Thanksgiving weekend and Easter, but otherwise he pretty much concentrates on her family, who are all there in Sarasota," she answered. "My sister's family lives in Katy, Texas. Dee's husband, Phil, is a contractor, and has built many homes there. They've got three kids, all in school and activities."
"Do you or they ever visit?"
"I went to Florida once and a couple of times to see Dee." Nadia shifted uncomfortably. "But I felt more like an observer, you know? Everyone was off doing this and that, and I was just kind of hanging around, following around. They've been too busy to visit. We've all really gone our separate ways."
"I'm sorry," Devawn said sincerely, "but I understand how that happens. I was the only magical one in the family. My family was proud of me, but they couldn't identify, so when we're together, we don't talk about that aspect of my life." She smiled in shared confidence, then continued. "So what about your friends? Your interests?"
"Again, I'm kind of an outsider," Nadia said, wanting to be honest but afraid she was sounding, well, pathetic. "I like to spend my private time reading and doing quiet things."
She hesitated, biting her lower lip and avoiding Chittleham's gaze while wondering how to explain. Devawn waited patiently.
"My family attended church but wouldn't really call themselves 'spiritual.'" Nadia stole a glance at Chittleham, who seemed to be listening with openness. "I've always been a very serious person. I take my faith very seriously."
Devawn gave a small nod. Taking a deep breath, Nadia decided to barrel ahead.
"While in high school, I began learning contemplative prayer. It's basically a quieting of the mind and spirit, to listen rather than to speak or ask."
"Meditation," Chittleham said with an understanding expression.
"Well, that's not the same. Meditation can help lead into contemplation, but contemplation is a 'prayer of the heart.' In the most blessed situation, it could be considered a temporary joining with God." She shook her head. "I don't know if I can explain ... It's like how you can sit silently but very comfortably with a dear friend.
"I tell you this because you'll see a small altar where I pray at home. I sometimes go to the church in the evenings or the weekends, alone, just to pray when it's quiet. And I've talked a lot about it with my priest, and he sometimes tells me about things he thinks I'd be interested in, like contemplative prayer weekends at monasteries in the region. I've spent some vacations at them." Nadia smiled sheepishly. "It's not the most common hobby."
Devawn laughed gently, breaking the tension, and Nadia noticed the dimples in her cheeks. "Are you Roman Catholic?"
"No, Episcopalian—High Anglican, here," Nadia said, grateful that the woman was nonjudgmental.
"My family is Methodist, but an in-law is an Anglican priest and I've been to several services," the witch said. "And, of course, there have been more than a few weddings and funerals."
Nadia felt she could ask something she'd been wondering about. "So some Muggle-born witches and wizards are Christian?"
"Not just Muggle-borns, but it's been my experience that most religious wizard-folk are either Muggle-born or half-blood." Devawn set the quill she'd been using on a side table. "I'd say about a quarter of witches and wizards profess a faith. It's rather a mix—some old Druid, some Western religions, some Eastern."
"Is there a church here at Hogwarts?"
The older woman's hazel eyes took on a faraway look. "When I was in school, there was a chaplain who came my first two years. He set up in an unused classroom, and he conducted ecumenical services. There were others who came to lead other religions' services. Then the war—World War II and the wizarding world's version—became serious, and the school governors decided there shouldn't be outside visitors." Devawn brought her focus back to Nadia. "Services never resumed after the war. I understand that parents sometimes pull out their children for special religious observations, but certainly not regularly."
Chittleham glanced down at her notes.
"So besides church, what interests do you have?"
Nadia smiled, relaxed. "I love music. I'm in the smaller church choir, which sings at some evening services. We meet Wednesdays at seven. And I'm also in a community group that plays medieval and Renaissance music. We perform occasionally, but since it's a rather specialized area"—she grinned—"there aren't a lot of opportunities. Practices are the first and third Thursdays. I'll write down the address, and names." Her eyebrows rose. "Oh, I just bought a lute here in Scotland. So someone from the group might ask about it."
Devawn sat more deeply in her chair. "Hmm. I can sing, but I don't play. What excuse might be acceptable?"
Nadia bit her lower lip, thinking. "I supposed that it wasn't ready, and it will be shipped later."
Devawn nodded, scribbling another note before turning the conversation back to Nadia's work. As the information exchange wound down, Dumbledore returned, alone, taking his seat behind the large desk and discreetly reading a parchment from a large pile. When the two women appeared finished, he looked up.
"Well, it's been a long evening. Do you have everything you need, Devawn?" he asked, his eyes sparkling brightly.
"I believe so. Except—." She looked apologetically at Nadia. "Might I borrow your keys?"
Somehow, that request made it all too real. Hesitating a moment, Nadia reached down for her purse, fished inside, and pulled out a ring with two keys. "This one's for the apartment. And this is for the car," she said, holding them up. "I left the rest at home, in the kitchen cabinet above the sink. You'll need them for work." With that, Nadia held them out, her hand shaking slightly.
After accepting them, Devawn patted her hand, smiling encouragingly. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine—I promise."
Dumbledore, having witnessed the exchange, cleared his throat. "Did you bring your hair brush?" he asked kindly.
Nadia obediently extracted it from the purse and held it nervously, unsure what to do. "Why don't you give your lovely hair 50 strokes, and then I should have enough for a couple of weeks," Devawn suggested. After Nadia followed suit, Devawn took the brush, ran her free hand's fingers between the nylon bristles, lifted out several strands of short, brown hair, and handed the instrument back.
The castle's enormous clock began striking ten-thirty, and Dumbledore looked at Nadia. "Thank you for working so closely with Devawn, and please rest well. You have a big day tomorrow!" Smiling broadly, he rose and came around the desk. The women exchanged pleasantries, and Dumbledore guided Nadia to the office door, murmuring reassurances before closing the door behind her and returning to Chittleham.
Nadia stepped off the revolving stairway and stood still for several moments before heading down the wide, stone staircase. Weary but excited Nadia walked through Hogwarts, pausing only once in confusion before recalling the map and turning around to take the correct corridor. Enamored with the prospect of working in a veritable fairy tale, meeting Devawn had emphasized the serious reality—and dredged up thoughts she'd been trying to shove aside. If something happens to me, none of my friends and family will ever know. No one will tell them. I'll just be gone. She reached the guest tower's opening and disappeared inside.
Snape watched from dark halls and alcoves, making certain that she went to her room, but as the spy always looking for telling actions. Even from the distance, he knew of her mixed excitement and uncertainly, awe and dread, and the heavy burden of her unknown future.
The suite's door closed above, the "click" carrying down the narrow stone stairwell. Snape paused, thinking, before resuming his rounds.
oOo
A/N: Please do leave a review, Dear Reader. I am curious about what you think.
Many thanks to my beta, Noleme, for her thoughtful suggestions and edits. She certainly makes a great contribution to the story!
Non-canon Latin words/translations are from .edu. References include The Harry Potter Lexicon and Potterwords. Although potions ingredients in this fiction story are sometimes listed as possible treatments, none of them should be used for such purposes unless in consultation with a qualified medical doctor.