A Matter of Respect
Disclaimer: I'm not her, I don't own anything of the Harry Potter universe, I know nothing, I see nothing, I was never here (a salute to the late John Banner). No money being made or even expected.
Warning: AU Rating M Language and suggestion of adult situations and activities
September 8, 1991 (Sunday)
The elderly witch sat in her private quarters at Hogwarts school. In her hand was a large mug of tea, heavily adulterated with the 'water-of-life', to translate the Gaelic. Her meetings and what could generously be called discussions with Harry Potter had shaken her badly, and for her own comfort, she had to figure out why they had upset her so.
The young wizard had categorically refused to attend Hogwarts, and had used the most disparaging terms to describe the staff of the school. On top of this, he had assaulted two other students of high and privileged social status within the wizarding community (and who, in Minerva's opinion, had probably thoroughly deserved it, from what she had seen of their behaviour).
In retrospect, she could understand Potter's point-of-view, which reflected badly on the institution where she had spent the better part of her life.
On top of this dismissal of her employer and to a degree, her occupation (of which she thought she could be justly proud), he accepted the invitation from the local centaur herd to live and study with them. And he had accepted with enthusiasm.
She had questioned the boy as to his enthusiasm, given his rejection of Hogwarts. He had pointed out that, as he could see people's emotions and essential beliefs in their auras, he could see that Hogwarts was almost completely filled with hate – Gryffindors hated Slytherins, Slytherins hated almost everybody who wasn't them, Ravenclaws had contempt for all the other houses who they thought were not their intellectual equals, and Snape seemed to hate absolutely everybody.
Harry had thought it seemed that Snape hated that he had to suck up to the Slytherins, who he thought were misguided fools, and he hated himself for it. It almost seemed Snape hated no one as much as he hated himself, for something Harry was not aware of. Moreover, he seemed to hate Harry merely for existing, as this seemed a part of his self-hate.
Personally, Harry hated his reputation, which he felt he had not earned, because it was something he had no recollection of doing, and no one knew what he had done anyway, other than the mere fact of his survival. He didn't want a reputation, he was not a superman, and for the first time in his life he had the opportunity to insist on being left alone.
He was thrilled with the centaurs' offer because it was for their own esoteric needs, and he detected neither hatred nor sycophancy in their offer. They had consulted their Wise Ones, and felt there was a need, for the first time in centuries. They did not interact with humans, not out of hate, but out of a wish to be left alone. And that attitude was one Harry could appreciate.
One thing that particularly struck the old witch's notice was that part of Harry's joy at being taken in by the centaurs was his delight that his uncle and aunt would have mental hernias by refusing to accept that Harry was or could be wanted by anybody, and in particular by creatures which they would most vehemently try to deny could even exist. The intensity of Harry's rejection of his relatives told McGonagall that Dumbledore has made an incredibly stupid mistake leaving Harry with them, and that she had made an unforgivable error in not vigorously opposing his actions.
It had become obvious to her that Harry had grown up in an environment where he was despised for what and who he was.
Minerva took another sip of her tea, and wondered again why the Headmaster had been so insistent of interfering with Harry's life. After all her work with the man over thirty years and through the war with Voldemort (which they almost lost), now he did not seem to trust her with that basic information.
The more she thought about Harry's rejection of Hogwarts, the more she could see how he came to feel the way he did. There was too much hatred, and the way the children of the Death Eaters were treated was just going to fuel another war at some point. Harry may have vanquished Voldemort (somehow), but his spirit and pure-blood bigotry lived on.
Perhaps by forcing the students together, and they got to know each other, the future could be altered. She had some time to speak to her colleagues, as the evenings of the first two weeks of every term were occupied with the prefects ushering first-years around the castle to get their bearings, to get over the motion sickness of the randomly moving staircases, and then the annual 'Welcome and you are about to go through Puberty' lectures where she, Aurora Sinistra and Poppy Pomfrey went over the topic with the new girls.
Perhaps she could not correct the past, but she could change the future. And perhaps she could regain some of her self-respect.
September 23 1991
It was after dinner on the Monday evening just after the weekend's equinox celebration, when Professor McGonagall (as Deputy Headmistress) and most of the staff met in the Great Hall with most of the student body. After the main course plates had been cleared and the dessert trays were being relieved of their contents, she stood and called for attention.
"I welcome all you returning students back to Hogwarts, and also to all you new first-years. I would like to announce that, this year, for the first time in about three hundred and forty five years, we are going to be organizing some student clubs. This way you can meet other student who share similar interests, and to broaden your horizons."
"We have set up a few clubs based on interests some of you have indicated in previous years, by starting clubs of your own. This way, with official support you can have access to more of the resources of the school, and perhaps move farther ahead in our endeavours. If any of you have specific interests and would like to start a club in another area, please see me or one of the other staff with your idea, and we will see what we can do."
"To start with, we are going to begin with four clubs. First, a Field Herbology club which Professor Sprout and I will sponsor – our first event with be a hike into the mountains north of the castle, to see the fall heather and other plants of the Scottish Highlands. For those of you in first year, and others, whose legs have not yet adapted to all the staircases in the castle, we will be bringing along lots of muscle liniment supplied by our own Madame Pomfrey."
"Second, we will have a beginners' Quidditch club. Many of you have expressed interest in playing, but at a less serious level than the House teams exhibit. This will be a purely fun club, and we suggest mixing up the members of teams from all the houses. Madame Hooch has graciously agreed to sponsor this club, but I may pop in once in a while and see if I can still fly as well as I did when I was on the Gryffindor team in my own school days."
A voice called out "What century was that in?", to which the witch smiled and said "I will have you know, Fred Weasley that I may not be as young as I was, but I can still get around. And by the bye, you just volunteered to help with the club." Fred covered his head with his hands, and gave a pitiful wail, to the amusement of the student body."
"Third, we will have a library club, which Professor Flitwick will be sponsoring. This club will look through some unused sections of the library, and see if they can discovery some spells and charms that have fallen out of use. Some because newer spells are more effective or useful, and some just because they were forgotten. I expect that this club may see a lot of Ravenclaws in it, but all who are interested in seeing how magic has changed overtime, or just finding out some odd charms are welcome."
She looked towards Hermione Granger, who could hardly remain in her seat at the Gryffindor table. The professor knew that the lonely girl was going to be in her element and might make some good friends outside her own House.
"Fourth, Professor Sinistra will be sponsoring a club for astronomy and paleo-astronomy. As part of this club's activities, you will be journeying to some of the stone circles that are located around the Highlands and the Orkney Islands. If we can arrange it, the year-end field trip will go south to the great ancient monument at Stonehenge."
"Also, the girls' sewing circle which has been running for many years, will continue, and the library club may be able to discover some old embroidery spells from hundreds of years ago, so you may find some overlap there."
"Now I must tell you that these clubs are entirely voluntary, except for Mr. Weasley who so graciously volunteered for the quidditch club"
At this point, a young girl's voice was heard. "Well, I'm not going to waste my time hanging around with a bunch of blood-traitors and mudbloods!"
There was a collective gasp from most of the students, with some chuckles heard from some of the Slytherin students.
Professor McGonagall looked over to the girl, and with steel in her voice. "Miss Parkinson, I gather you do not wish to share any of your precious your time with other students?"
Pansy looked around and smirked. "Nope, not these ones"
McGonagall smiled as the leader of the first year clique fell into the trap. Some of the upper year Slytherin students saw where the girl's mouth was leading her – they might hold the same prejudices, but you just didn't spout them off in front of the entire staff.
"I suppose you do not wish to take classes with those you consider unworthy, either."
Pansy Parkinson smirked again, ignoring some of the upper years Slytherins who saw her digging herself into the deep hole shaking their heads to indicate to her to shut up. "Absolutely. Most of these shouldn't even be allowed to have wands. I want nothing to do with them." She lifted her shoulders in 'triumph' and made as if to strut a bit.
McGonagall nodded. "I see. As you wish. Miss Parkinson, I shall arrange for you to be excused from all classes then." Pansy smiled, and looked around at her housemates, who looked back at her in shock, as the Deputy Headmistress sprung the trap.
"As you have elected to not take any classes here at Hogwarts, and not participate in any school activities, I have no choice but to send you home to be home-schooled. This institution has no room for those not engaged in the education we offer. I will, of course, speak to the Headmaster about having your tuition refunded to your family, minus the costs of your room and board to date." She was after all, a frugal Scot.
Pansy suddenly realised what had happened. She had just been expelled, and apparently it was appearing to the entire student body that it was entirely by her own choice.
She started to cry and wailed, "You can't do this to me. I have to be here to get together with Draco. That's what my family sent me here for."
The Professor smiled at her. It was a nasty smile. "Miss Parkinson, this school does not exist to facilitate your family's breeding program." Her use of the term was met by shocked silence. She had just equated the pure-blood families' matrimonial arrangements with livestock. "Arrangement will be made for you to leave in the morning."
Pansy snarled, starting to leave, and turned to Millicent Bulstrode. "Come on Bulstrode. Let's go, and leave these scum." She was shocked when the big girl stood her ground, and called out "Professor, what time does the hike start on Saturday. I would like to see the purple heather. I like flowers."
Parkinson stood there stunned. Her supposed power over the large brow-beaten girl had just vanished before her eyes, and she was truly alone. Looking around, even her Housemates were disgusted with her, for being so stupid. For a Slytherin to be so lacking in cunning was just intolerable.
McGonagall gestured to Pomona Sprout, who smiled back and said, "We should leave around 8 in the morning. That way, we will be well into the heather fields as the dew evaporates – that's when the fragrance is the most intense."
McGonagall clapped her hands to get attention again, and said, "And with that bit of unpleasantness behind us, I bid you all goodnight. Classes will start at their usual time tomorrow morning."
October 5, 1991 (Saturday)
At the end of the weekly staff meeting, Headmaster Dumbledore asked Professor McGonagall to stay for a moment. Also remaining as the rest of the staff left was Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape. As Minerva McGonagall had little time for the potions master, she was puzzled by this inclusion in this additional and apparently secret meeting.
Dumbledore started by saying, "Minerva, I should have told you quite some time ago, but Severus has been acting as a spy for those of us on what could be called the 'Light' who fought against Voldemort up to ten years ago. When Harry Potter did whatever it was to banish the Dark Lord, many of his followers managed to bribe their way out of prison, and remain active to this day. I have reason to believe that Voldemort was not completely destroyed, and will someday try to return. It is therefore imperative that we keep an eye on those who would like to prepare for his return, or alternately if I am wrong and he was totally vanquished, to replace him as the next Dark Lord."
As she gasped at this possibility, Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape has been, quite intentionally I might add, a complete pain in the ass to those in other houses who are of the 'Light' persuasion, and visibly supportive of those on the Dark side. This is the only way he can maintain enough trust from the former followers of Voldemort, his Death eaters, to be an effective spy. The information he has collected has allowed us to stymy several of their activities, but in ways that appear random or coincidental."
"The reason that I have not told you of these things before is that you are not skilled in occlumency, and unfortunately, many of the Death Eaters are quite accomplished Legilimencers. Further, I suspect that several of the children of Death Eaters have been getting lessons on legilimency, and I feared that they would pull things from your mind that they must not know. Marcus Flint, for one, I know has some ability in this area, as I have detected some of his attempts to probe my mind.. I have kept important secrets from you I have had Professor Flitwick here researching spells which can provide you with the mental blocks you will need. Filius, please?"
The diminutive professor approached McGonagall. "Minerva, we have worked together for thirty years, and I trust you with my life. I ask you to trust me on this. I have found some old Celtic druids' spells and charms which will provide you with some good mental shields, just as they did against the Roman wizards who invaded these lands. This is to protect you, and us. May I have your permission to bespell you?"
McGonagall thought for a moment, and then nodded. Here was the answer to her mistrust of the Headmaster, and she knew she would not learn the critical secrets without the spells.
Flitwick spent the next five minutes casting spells and charms that were obviously unknown to the others, and in a language that was also unfamiliar to the others, although Minerva thought she caught some old Gaelic words from the days of her youth in the Highlands. He nodded to the Headmaster, and bowed his head to the witch, quietly thanking her for her trust.
The Headmaster looked into her eyes, and nodded. Smiling, he said "All I can see in your mind is a fondness for mice." She quickly transformed into a cat, meowed, and changed back smiling.
Snape nodded. Turning to McGonagall, he said, "I have been keeping a watch on young Mr. Malfoy carefully. His father was very highly placed in the Death Eaters, and with his money and smooth talk, has managed to secure himself great influence with the Ministry. Many at the Ministry have fallen under his sway, which makes it very dangerous to act publically. It is prudent, even imperative, to diminish Draco Malfoy's influence within Slytherin House."
"When young Mr. Potter, well, beat the snot out of Malfoy, and injured two of my House who were for all practical purposes here only as his bodyguards, and then you managed to get rid of Pansy Parkinson eliminating his influence of the female half of Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy has been losing his power over the other students, in a big way. His father is very much annoyed by this turn of events, and young Draco is becoming desperate to regain his position of authority with his housemates. We must prevent this from happening."
"As he has very little self-control over his mouth, and apparently little contact between his mouth and his brain, I suspect that he will come up with some outburst or incredibly stupid act, and very soon. To maintain my cover and remain an effective spy, I cannotreprimand his as severely as I would like, or is needed to take the wind out of his sails in a more-or-less permanent fashion."
"The Headmaster, Professor Flitwick and I have discussed this at some length, and came up with the following plan. Filius has told us that Miss Granger has been gaining good friends and a lot of confidence in the library club – however, she is still over-enthusiastic to prove herself. As a muggle-borne and a brilliant student (I know Minerva, you are surprised by me making this appraisal, but I am not as stupid as I carefully lead people to believe), Malfoy despises her for everything she is. At some point, we can arrange, or it may occur on its own, to make an announcement that Miss Granger finds illogical and thus unacceptable. She will then surely object to the announcement (either from her own sense of superiority, or with some subtle encouragement of this trait over time), and I will denounce her and take Gryffindor points. At this point, Draco Malfoy is absolutely certain to do something incredibly stupid that as a pure-blood he is sure to think he can get away with, and make some disparaging remarks, at which point, we need you to use your authority and either publically overrule me, or punish Malfoy, or both. You must exert your authority over me."
"In this way, Malfoy gets punished as I wish I could do on my own but cannot for political reasons, and you reinforce your authority in the school. To the offspring of the Death Eaters, it will appear that I have more reason to resent your authority for punishing a Slytherin. Other Slytherin students, who are starting to drift away from Malfoy's influence, will be disgusted by his arrogance and stupidity, and losing them house points. If anything, this should reduce any power the Malfoy name still has in Slytherin. With luck, it will negate his power, and that of his father."
"We think that this will serve the purposes of all of us."
Minerva thought about this for several minute. She was not stupid, and looked at it from all angles. This could work. This could really work. Now to find an occasion to spring the trap, and make sure it did not appear to be a trap.
Further, for the first time in the many years she had known him, she had some respect for Severus Snape. It did not take much to increase her respect for the man, as she had had none to begin with.
As she left the meeting, she felt a lessening of the need to believe what she was told, and wondered what kind of compulsion charms had been floating around the meeting. Filius' words percolated in her brain. Among the words of the spell, Filius had definitely added the words of the old Gaelic warning from the days of clan feuds "Trust not these men."
The more she thought about it, the less what she had been told made sense. She had known where Dumbledore had hidden Harry Potter with his relatives for over ten years, and there had never been any indication that her mind had been read by anyone. No attacks on Privet Drive, and no indication of nefarious interest in the area. If that secret had been safe in her head, either the secrets that had been held back were truly monumental, or she was being lied to.
October 31, 1991
It "was the late afternoon of All Hallows Eve, and important date on the wizarding calendar.
In preparation for the annual feast in the Great Hall, Professor Flitwick had 'his' library club give a presentation on Hallowe'en customs around the world. The entire hall laughed aloud when Mercedes Shacklebolt described how American children would dress up as what they thought were witches and wizards and other creatures that had more to do with Hollywood than Hogwarts. The castle ghosts sat in rapt attention as Hermione Granger, the youngest member and quickly becoming a pivotal member of the group, spoke of the Mexican festival of the Days of the Dead when the living reconnected and paid homage to the relatives who had gone before. Sir Nicholas visibly wept recalling his departed wife Felicity, who had not joined him in the life-after-life.
Throughout the presentation, Draco Malfoy could be heard mumbling about the waste of time hearing about muggle traditions that had no place in the 'real' world'. He was about to work himself into a major rant about even allowing mudbloods into the school when Professor Quirrel burst into the room.
"A troll. There's a troll in the dungeon!" he cried out, just before he fainted spectacularly.
Professor Dumbledore applied his wand to his neck to cast the 'Sonarus', and bellowed out, "Quiet! Prefects, take your houses back to their common rooms, immediately!"
A young female voice yelled out, "No! Stop! Don't leave here!"
Professor Snape looked over at Hermione Granger, and after a quick hidden smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, bellowed out, "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and tomorrow night's detention, Miss Granger, for interrupting and contradicting the Headmaster!"
Draco Malfoy could not leave this opportunity alone, and yelled out, "Take that you damned mudblood!", at which point Minerva McGonagall pointed her wand at him and shouted "That will be eighty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, and a week's detentions!"
Still smiling in a way that the students could not see, Snape turned to McGonagall and shouted, "He is in my House. I will discipline him!"
McGonagall responded, "And you should then remember that Miss Granger is in My House, but you would take it upon yourself to discipline her. I must also remind you that I am the Deputy, and have the authority to maintain discipline over the entire school."
"Hold!', was heard from the Headmaster. "Miss Granger, please explain yourself!" This was obviously not a request she could refuse.
Hermione stood and looked at the head table. She gulped, but continued, "Well, sir, the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons, it is not? If that's where the troll is, send the Slytherins there might be sending them directly to the troll. They would be safer here with the staff."
Dumbledore nodded. "Very good, Miss Granger. Fifty points to Gryffindor, for looking out for your schoolmates, even if you did interrupt me."
Malfoy screamed "You can't give her points for pretending she gives a shit about anybody but herself!"
Dumbledore looked at the young man who considered himself a prince of the wizarding world, and added, "And that's another hundred points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, and another week's detention."
At this point, Malfoy's sense of entitlement got the better of him, and he yelled out, "You can't do this to me you old bat! You and that bitch will pay for this!"
McGonagall turned away from Snape to smile a nasty smile at Malfoy, and said calmly, "That's now two hundred and eighty points from Slytherin, and three week's detention."
At Malfoy's exclamation of, "My father will hear about this, and then you all are going to suffer. You can't….", she interrupted "Three hundred and eighty points Mr. Malfoy, and a month of detentions for threatening your teachers. Another outburst from you, and you may find it difficult to leave for the summer break!"
Malfoy looked like he was about to explode, when the heavy hand of a Slytherin prefect slammed him down into his seat, and the entire hall heard, "Shut the hell up, Malfoy, before you lose us the House Cup for the next generation!"
Looking around to his housemates for support, Draco Malfoy found himself very much alone at his table. Even his 'bookends', Crabbe and Goyle, had moved as far away from him as they could while remaining within reach of the food on the table. Crabbe still had discomfort walking the halls and climbing the stairs since the last time he tried to back up Malfoy's mouth, and he was loath to repeat the situation.