The headmaster's office was dimly lit as usual by the silvery shimmer of some of the gadgets he stored in the numerous shelves along the walls and on his desk. There was a ringing in the air, which Minerva mistook for the tiny permanent sound that had appeared in her head earlier this year at first but then recognised from earlier visits in this room.
Fawkes was sitting in his usual place near the desk and regarded her cautiously with more interest than a common phoenix was supposed to display. Minerva wished the headmaster would let her in on his secrets once in a while, at least enough for her not having to fear being attacked by a raging bird every time she entered his office. And Fawkes certainly seemed to be guarding Dumbledore's numerous belongings. At least Minerva thought he did.
With a rather brusque gesture she took the Sorting Hat off his shelf and put it on her head, careful not to interfere with her hair, which was carefully fastened in a bun. Her first impression on the new first-years was representative after all. Just for a few moments each year her person was synonymous with the school's reputation. And a good reputation it was. She did not intend to change that.
'Minerva McGonagall,' said the hat pleasantly. 'As stressed as ever, I see?'
It was a rhetorical question. Minerva frowned.
'Hat,' she said sternly, 'stop peering into my mind and tell me whether you are ready to present us with another song.'
'All up and ready,' replied the hat cheerfully. 'Wanna hear?'
'Not now,' said the deputy headmistress. 'In a moment. And I am warning you now - if there are naughty bits in it again I will make the headmaster sell you to an oxfam shop.'
She left the office, carefully seeing to that the gargoyle shut the entrance as it was supposed to, and headed towards the ground level again.
'I ought to have put you in Ravenclaw at your time,' sighed the hat, still firmly on her head. 'You would have learned how to cope with stress there.'
'Father would have been delighted,' said Minerva sourly. 'And mother, come to think of it. She likes having clever people in the family.'
'Well, and the prerequisites are there, of course,' said the hat, giving Minerva the distinct impression that he was grinning.
'No impertinence,' she said simply.
'Oh, the McGillivrays have always been cause for delight on my part,' replied the hat, seeming quite unperturbed. 'You cannot tell me you are not as exceedingly fond of your uncle Angus as ever.'
'You are right,' said Minerva sharply, 'it would be of no use claiming the opposite, as you are likely to read my mind anyway. Habitually, I hope for your sake.'
'Habitually,' confirmed the hat. 'And it is not called mind-reading.'
'Admittedly, hats cannot actually read,' said Minerva tartly. 'But I refuse to call it Legilimency in your case. You are missing out on the eye-contact part.'
The hat laughed. 'Thanks. I needed that. Give my love to Angus when you see him, will you? He will have to tell me about the kilt incident over a jar of butterbeer.'
'I will,' said Minerva, removing the hat from her head as she entered the Great Hall and placing it on its four-legged stool beside the stage Emeric Flitwick had put up the day before.
The hat moved as though it was throwing in another remark, but Minerva found that she did not have the nerve of listening to any more of his rambling.
Instead, she left the room and walked towards the entrance doors, opened them - and bumped into a shiny red piece of cloth over the enormous chest of a well-known person.
'Lance!' she snapped, recovering from the shock of almost running into a Snape at such an unexpected place and time. 'What are you doing here?'
'I am seeing your students safely to their destination,' was the soldier's dark reply. 'Half of them, that is. I regret to say that the other half has been abducted from the train tonight before we were able to break the safety barrier between the railway line and The Forest.'
'Abducted?' Minerva was fully alert all of a sudden, clapping one hand before her mouth in horror. 'You mean someone kidnapped them from the train?'
'So to speak,' replied the soldier, moving into the Entrance Hall to give way to the crowd of older students, who started filing through the doors and were entering the Great Hall in a row of twos.
'But how...' began the deputy headmistress, 'who...'
'The Knights,' prompted Snape senior. 'On carpets. Yes, through The Forest. Don't look at me like that. I cannot imagine how they got in... Certainly not through Camden.'
'Na-naturally,' said Minerva feebly. 'But how...'
'Investigations are continuing,' said the soldier curtly. 'For now, I want you to proceed with the sorting ceremony as planned.'
'But...' said Minerva, 'we cannot just... you'll have to...'
'We have to make sure the students do not break into a panic once they find out we cannot guarantee their absolute safety any longer,' hissed the Snape, careful to avoid being overheard by any of the children close by. 'I shall be talking to the headmaster in a moment. Just for now make sure no one steps out of line, understood?'
Minerva could not remember, in later years, whether she had actually nodded to this. Lance, in any case, did, curtly, and left the Entrance Hall heading towards the headmaster's study.
Minerva realised that he would be facing an unmoving gargoyle only when he had vanished around the corner. Albus Dumbledore had been certain that the matter of the more recent attacks would keep him in London until the next day.
'Ah well,' the deputy headmistress decided, 'there will still be time to tell him that the headmaster is currently unavailable when he returns.' And with this, she strut out of the castle as originally intended.
A number of heated, curious little faces awaited her outside at the bottom of the marble staircase. Their number had decreased by at least eight or ten, Minerva noted. What was left of her spine now vanished at the sight of the eleven-year-olds' expressions. They displayed only too clearly what was going on inside their heads. Minerva searched for a single unaffected face - and found none. Who on earth would kidnap a random number of students from a school train?
She nodded at Hagrid, who seemed thoroughly unperturbed from what she could make out. Had the soldiers failed to inform him of what had happened? Assuming that there was no necessity to let a half-giant in on matters concerning the wizarding community? Minerva thought it quite probable and pursed her lips. She could see the area surrounding the lake being guarded by Lance's troops and almost waited for a red-coated individual to pop up behind Hagrid's back, declaring that he had been joining the first-years on their journey over the lake all along.
But nothing of the sort happened.
Thus, Minerva contented herself with giving Hagrid a small nod and leading the remaining first-years into the chamber attached to the Great Hall for a short introduction to the four house ghosts. This long-lasting tradition had the most satisfactory effect on the children's discipline she had found out, and made even more of an impression, quite naturally, than the castle itself or its surroundings.
First, however, there was the matter of introducing the newcomers to the school's rules and regulations, which was her happy duty every year. Minerva took a deep breath, watching the children's faces turning apprehensive once more before finally speaking, as firmly as the situation allowed.
'In spite of what just happened I welcome you to Hogwarts. In a moment, I shall be leading you into the Great Hall where we take our meals and have all assemblies in the course of the year. You will join the start-of-term banquet after you have been sorted in your houses. There is four of those. Gryffindor, which is under my supervision, Ravenclaw, lead by Professor Emeric Flitwick, Hufflepuff, under the care of Professor Mandragora Sprout, and Slytherin, which just got a new Head of House to whom you will be introduced in a few moments.'
She actually managed to produce a smile, if only a small one. The children were listening in nerve-racking silence. Some of them looked as though kidnappers might jump out and snatch them away any minute. Minerva, remembering Lance Snape's words, felt that she would have to distract them of the horrible things they had apparently observed, giving their minds something new to focus on.
'Discipline,' she therefore said, 'is regarded as an initial prerequisite for attending this faculty. Anyone stepping out of line will be punished - whereas exemplary behaviour will be considered in your end-of-term-grades. For those of you coming from Muggle backgrounds it is important to note that in contrast to your previous experiences Hogwarts students are strictly forbidden to cut their hair above collar length. I am well aware that this is exactly the opposite to the Muggle custom, but rest assured that any breach of this rule will be seen and punished as a serious offence. Your hair is part of your school uniform, as much as your robes and hats.'
She took a short breath and continued to gaze around. Quite a few Malfoys this year, she concluded from the look of their pointed faces, and at least one Black.
She realised that practically every person in the room had the typical looks of one or the other Pureblood family and in a sudden, purely affective reaction she heard her own voice ask: 'There are Muggleborns among you, are there not? Raise your arm, please, if your parents are not both part of the wizarding society.'
Not a single child moved.
Minerva closed her eyes for a second, a horrible realisation dawning, too horrible for her to finish this train of thoughts.
'Ve-very well then,' she said weakly. 'I... as for the others...' She fought with all might to not lose control now. 'I would like to point out that a different level of concentration and hard work will be expected of you once you have started lessons than what you are probably used to from your life at home. Hogwarts is a culturally overarching institution, so you will occasionally find those who in some families are called 'half-breeds' among your fellow students.'
She would have to talk to Lance. Urgently. The speech's part about Muggleborns remained unmentioned for some reason.
'I would like to point out,' she continued instead, 'that any name-calling concerning race, species or gender, including certain discourteous expressions towards Muggle-born wizards or witches, will infallibly land you in the thrashing vault.'
Some of the children gaped. Others seemed embarrassed.
'Very well,' said Minerva eventually, careful not to let her expression give her thoughts away, 'you will wait here until you are called. The Sorting will begin momentarily.'
And with this she stepped out of the room, wiping a trace of sweat from her own forehead. Muggleborns. Only Muggleborns.
At the end of the Entrance Hall, she caught a glimpse of Snape senior again, who was striding towards her in long, determined steps.
'The headmaster isn't in,' he informed her.
'I know,' said Minerva quietly. 'I forgot to tell you that he will not return until tomorrow.'
The Snape's gaze darkened. 'What is that supposed to mean? He would miss the beginning of term.'
'Urgent engagements down at the Ministry,' said Minerva weakly. 'Will you...'
'When did he go down there?' interrupted the soldier. Minerva frowned.
'Last night,' she replied. 'He got an urgent owl...' She stopped. Realisation dawning.
'The matter will have to be investigated,' said the Snape, as firmly as ever. 'But it seems you have been fooled. I keep telling the headmaster to install additional security measures to his correspondence system, but he, of course, has his own mind.'
'Listen, Lance,' said Minerva again, more urge in her voice than before, 'did you notice that it is only Muggleborns who have been abducted from the train? Or at least all that were there must have been taken. I distinctly remember almost half of the new first-years coming from Muggle backgrounds when I wrote the letters, and yet there is only Purebloods left in that room.'
She pointed at the chamber next to the Great Hall.
'We have started investigations on the matter,' said the soldier in his usual, stern calmness. 'A typical incident, of course, regarding the Knights' other actions.'
Minerva nodded.
'Very... very well,' she said quietly. 'I shall have to go in for an entrance speech, then do the Sorting. Will you be around this evening? I shall try and call the headmaster back from London, but I cannot make any promises.'
'I shall be off to London immediately,' replied the soldier. 'To see what is going on. And whether the headmaster really has an engagement. But yes, I'll be back in the evening. We will have to decide on our next steps.'
Minerva nodded. 'You may use my fireplace, if you like. Floo powder is useless for entering the Ministry, however. They have put up new security...'
'I am aware of that,' said the Snape curtly. 'You forget that I happen to be there every other week.'
Minerva nodded. 'Of course.
And they parted. With considerably more on her head than only this morning, the deputy headmistress entered the Great Hall to greet the remaining students.
Severus Snape was in trouble.
There were four people standing around him, not pointing wands at him for once. Then again, one could not trust Potter's clenched fists, of course, or Black's massive body, both of which were potential weapons as Severus realised when they moved towards him slowly, calculatingly, seeming to search for something he was carrying with him at the moment.
The situation was surreal.
He decided to wake up.
Upon realising that this resolution would not prevent him from getting beaten up, Severus recoiled.
'You... you're not allowed to... you'll see what you get out of...'
'I want my book back, Snivellus!' snarled Potter, utterly indignant of the smaller boy's behaviour. 'And I'll get it, believe me. Do I have to undress you in front of all these people? Just go on stealing if that's what you want!'
'No magic in the corridors,' prompted Severus, 'and I haven't seen your stupid book!' Come to think of it, he was, in fact, exceedingly frightened, but at the same time he knew that there was no way Potter could put his threat into practice without landing himself in detention - or worse. 'You are a show-off!' he thus snapped. 'An idiot and a show-off. Naughty-haughty Gryffindors, all of you!'
Given the circumstances, he might have chosen another retort. Potter was with him in two steps and grabbed his collar.
'Listen, sniffo,' he snarled, 'you hand that book back, or I'll hunt you down as far as Slytherin house to get it! You will regret having known me when I'm finished with you!'
Severus scowled. 'I don't have your stupid book,' he repeated. 'What would I want with a Transfiguration book? Burn it?'
'And yet, you seem to know its content,' whispered Potter. 'I am not stupid, dumbass.'
Severus cringed. Faux pas.
Several students were standing near by now, watching the proceedings, but a sudden very sharp voice interrupted Potter in his attempt to search Severus's robes and bag for the book he had lost.
'If you do not mind, gentlemen, I would like to begin.'
Potter and Black jumped back to their seats.
Severus looked around and retreated to his own as quickly as he could. He had not realised that so many people had been watching. Then again, what could you expect if you got into a quarrel in the middle of the Great Hall?
'We,' said Professor McGonagall, enthroned on the headmaster's usual chair, 'are once again facing a year of special circumstances. Some of you might have heard of the schedule changes we are undergoing at the moment. There will be no more choice between Merish and Centauri this year, given that our budget for language has been shortened considerably, and, of course, no more human languages. There will be advanced courses for you sixth formers, but the details of that please ask Dr. Babelfish to relate to you.'
She pointed at a small wizard to her left.
Severus glanced at the Gryffindor table, and realised that they were still watching him. All, that is, but Black, to whom the language department cuts seemed horrible news indeed. Severus grinned.
'But more importantly,' went Professor McGonagall on, 'you have all seen what happened on the train. I regret to say that for your own safety, there will be a number of drastic safety measures, just for the moment, to ensure that no one else gets lost or kidnapped. Thus, the entrance to the Forbidden Forest will be sealed with a magical wall, which can be enabled or disabled only if at least three members of staff speak the incantation. So do not even try and break through it. You will not be successful. This is, as you all know, because the Forbidden Forest seamlessly fades to The Forest connecting the wizarding world. And we don't want any of you anywhere near this place at present. There will furthermore be a number of army members guarding the entrance doors and any trip to Hogsmeade is strictly cancelled until we have word of their officials that the area is safe.'
There was a wave of protest. But only a small one. People were staring at the deputy headmistress in horror, some of them only now realising in how much danger they had actually been.
'Finally,' the deputy headmistress concluded, 'We expect perfectly exemplary behaviour from all of you. If you do not want to endanger your own life and that of others, don't mess around!'
Severus got the impression that she was regarding the Slytherin table more piercingly than all the others, but it might have been a reflection of the light.
He certainly was not going to fool around, he realised. Not with everyone so upset, Potter and Black more than ready to kill everyone in their sight as it seemed, and the awareness that, in spite of his innocent expression, Lucius Malfoy knew more about the matter than he was ready to admit.