Late disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter or Anne of Green Gables.
Moonstruck Madness Year One: Chapter 5
Of Carrot Cakes, Trousers, and Meddlesome Old Hats
"Node iddum eentup eschew," Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Professor McGonagall took the sorting hat out of the Great Hall after the last student was sorted. Ron lfooked down at his polished plate, his stomach growling. It seemed like ages ago since he had last eaten those sweets from the Express trolley. Gilbert and Harry seemed to be eying the empty plates hungrily too.
Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat, his eyes twinkling merrily.
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin the delicious feast that has been prepared for us, I would like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
He sat back down to a roaring applause. Ron saw that Harry was beginning to question Dumbledore's sanity.
"Is he – is he a bit mad?" Harry asked Ron's' brother, Percy uncertainly.
Ron had no doubt he was, especially after all his brothers had told him. Granted, Fred and George weren't exactly the most credible sources of information…But after defeating one of the darkest wizards of his time, Dumbledore had to be a bit loopy, didn't he?
"Mad?" said Percy pompously, "Perhaps he might be. But he's a genius! The best wizard in the world! Potatoes, Harry?"
Ron's eyes widened as the plates in front of them filled with all kinds of delicious food. Boiled potatoes, chicken, beef, fries, carrots, peas, pudding – Ron wasted no time in piling his plate high with food.
A few blissful mouthfuls later, Ron noticed that Harry and Gilbert were still gaping open-mouthed at the full platters.
"Archoo gon naee anding?" He said around a spoonful of pudding. Harry came out of his reverie, and began piling his plate, albeit at a much more restrained pace than Ron.
"There's so much food," he said in awe.
"Well, what did you expect?" said Ron, gulping down the last of his pumpkin juice. He reached for a second helping of potatoes. "It's the opening feast! I reckon the house elves haven't had a chance to get this busy all summer."
"What's –" began Harry, but Ron cut him off when he noticed his other friend.
Gilbert's mouth still hung wide open.
"What's the matter, mate? Aren't you hungry?"
"How did that…?" he trailed off, murmuring something unintelligible.
Ron shrugged. He proceeded to continue shoveling food in his mouth. Some people just didn't know how to properly appreciate good food.
Gilbert finally managed to take a piece of steak.
He still couldn't believe the speed of such magic! Just moments ago, the golden plates had been sparkling clean. Now, they were filled with all kinds of food he'd never seen before.
At Tom's, Gilbert hadn't seen much magic, just an occasional cleaning spell here and there. Tom hadn't let Gilbert and Anne in the bar, either, as he felt that the muggleborns wouldn't take to the sudden strangeness of it all very well.
"That does look delicious, "said a ghost in a ruff mournfully, watching Gilbert.
"Can't you –?"
"I haven't eaten in hundreds of years," answered the ghost. "Not that I need to, of course, but one does miss the taste." He stared at Gilbert's plate wistfully. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly, have I? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington of Gryffindor tower, at your service."
"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porp—"
"Nearly Headless?" interrupted Hermione skeptically, "How can you be nearly headless?"
Nearly Headless Nick sighed. It ended like this every year, didn't it? "Like this," he sighed, obviously miffed.
He grabbed his left ear and pulled. The rest of his head followed, but stopped when it hit his shoulder, as if it were on a hinge. Clearly, someone hadn't done a very good job beheading him. Sir Nicholas flipped his had back onto his neck, looking pleased with the stricken looks he was drawing from the first years.
"So – new Gryffindors! You'll help us win the House Championship this year, I hope? Slytherins have beaten us to the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron was kind enough to remind me the other day – he's the Slytherin ghost."
Gilbert looked up to see a terrible ghost floating above the Slytherin table, his robes covered in sliver blood. He looked strangely familiar…
Gilbert nudged Ron. "Isn't he that ghost we saw in the corridor?" he whispered.
"What ghost?" asked Ron, confused.
"The one staring at Malfoy!"
Ron hadn't noticed. Gilbert looked over at the Slytherin table. The blonde-haired boy didn't seem to be overly pleased with this new seating.
"How did he get covered in so much blood?" asked sandy-haired Seamus.
"I've never thought to ask," Nearly Headless Nick said lightly.
When everyone had stuffed themselves with as much of the main course as they could, the leftover food vanished. The golden plates were left as clean as they had been before the feast had started. Moments later, desserts appeared. Jello, pies, tarts, ice cream, pudding-- every kind of desert imaginable.
Gilbert helped himself to a slice of pumpkin pie, and was about to take a forkful, but a slice of carrot cake on a place begun nudging him in the arm. He tried to avoid the plate, but to no avail.
"Are all magical deserts like this?" asked a rather disgruntled Gilbert. Harry and Ron shrugged, trying to hide their smiles as Gilbert once again tried to dodge the persistent platter.
"Seems like Hogwarts is having quite a bit of fun mocking me today," grumbled Gilbert darkly.
Anne looked over at them for a moment, saw the carrot cake, turned as red as her hair, and immediately turned away.
Next to him, the conversation soon turned to families.
"I'm half and half," said Seamus, "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum's a witch. But of a nasty shock for him when he found out she was one."
They all laughed.
"What about you, Gilbert?" said Ron.
"Me?" asked Gilbert uneasily, who was still trying to avoid the slice of carrot cake in vain.
"Yeah, you and Anne don't sound like you're from around here. Where did you say you were from? Canada?"
The others looked on in interest.
"I was wondering about that," said Neville, "You've got a different sort of accent."
Gilbert darted a look at Anne. She looked just as alarmed. What was he supposed to say? That he was from an Avonlea from nearly a hundred years ago? That he had accidentally landed him and Anne at Hogwarts with a faulty time turner?
"Err…Well, Anne and I are both muggleborns. We did used to live in the same town in Canada, but we ended up having to move to England because of circumstances…" he finished rather lamely.
The others, seeing this was an uncomfortable topic for Gilbert and Anne, didn't pry any further.
"What about you, Neville?" asked Gilbert, as he desperately tried to change the subject. The platter of carrot cake had finally given up after banging back down on the table.
"I live with my gran and she's a witch," said Neville. "Actually, it was a big surprise to everyone in my family that I got my Hogwarts letter. They thought I was all-muggle for years. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to surprise me and force the magic out of me. He pushed me off the end of Blackpool once –nearly drowned—but nothing really happened until I was about eight. Great-uncle Algie came for supper, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great auntie came in and he accidentally let go. I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road without a scratch. They were all really happy, Gran was even crying. You should have seen their faces when I got my letter – they didn't think I had enough magic in me, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he even bought me Trevor, my toad."
On the other side of the table, Percy, Hermione, and Anne were talking about magic classes excitedly. ("I really hope they start lessons straight away; there's just so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, and Anne thinks Charms would be fun. Of course, they're supposed to be two of the harder classes –"; "You'll start out small, just matches and feathers and such—")
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his forehead.
"What's the matter?" asked Gilbert.
"N-nothing."
Harry looked a little off. He was looking strangely at the head table. Gilbert followed Harry's gaze, seeing a teacher in a purple turban. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw his eyes glint with hatred, but just as quickly, the teacher shrunk into himself, looking extremely nervous.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" asked Harry, his eyes never leaving the sallow-faced man. Gilbert directed his attention to the sallow faced man next to the professor with the turban. He was looking rather sour, and seemed to be begrudgingly trying to make small talk with Professor Quirrell.
"Oh, you've already met Quirrell? That's Professor Snape next to him. He teaches Potions, but everyone knows he doesn't want to. He's after Quirrell's job. He knows a whole lot about the Dark Arts, Snape – no wonder Quirrell looks so nervous." Percy answered promptly.
Gilbert watched the pair of professors for a while, but they didn't turn their attention to the Gryffindors again.
Finally, the desserts disappeared too, and Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat again. The great hall grew silent.
"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-terms notices for you.
"First years should not that the forbidden forest is just that – forbidden. Some of our older students are reminded of that as well."
Dumbledore's gaze flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who were doing their best to look as innocent as possible and failing miserably.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that magic should not be used between classes.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of this term. Anyone in second year or higher interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch.
"And lastly, I must tell you that for this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish toe die a very painful death." His voice was uncharacteristically stern.
Next to Gilbert, Harry laughed, but he was one of the few students who did.
"He's not serious, is he?" he heard Harry mutter to Percy.
"I suppose he is," frowned Percy. "It's strange – he usually gives us a good reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere. The forbidden forest is full of dangerous creatures; everyone should know that. He might have told us prefects why we're forbidden, at the very least."
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" said Dumbledore. Gilbert saw that the other's teachers' smiles were rather forced at this time.
Dumbledore flicked his wand lightly, and a long ribbon flew out of it, which floated high above the four tables twisted itself into curved words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" said Dumbledore cheerfully.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
You do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn till our brains all rot."
Everyone finished the song at varying times. Anne laughed -- the Weasley twins were the last to finish, singing to a slow funeral dirge.
"Ah, music," said Dumbledore, wiping a tear from his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Hogwarts student body got up as a mass, trying to squeeze the great double doors at the front. Somehow, the house prefects managed to sag all their first years.
"Gryffindor first years! Follow me!" called Percy. Anne began sleepily following after Hermione as Percy lead them through the castle, telling them to pay attention to the various twists and turns through the castle. Anne tried to stay alert, but she was having trouble just keeping her eyes open--she thought she might drift off the sleep right there. But there was something nagging her in the back of her mind…
"Oh!" exclaimed Anne, now wide awake. She suddenly remembered the handwritten note that had been tucked in with her Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore had requested to see her and Gilbert after the welcoming feast.
"I'll be right back," she said to Hermione, "I've got to go see Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?" Hermione asked with interest, "Why?"
"I'm not really sure. Something to do with foreign student processes, I suppose." Anne said evasively.
"I've got to go – make sure one of the Prefects knows where I've gone, will you?" She hurried away.
"Alright..." Hermione trailed off, a bit surprised at Anne's sudden departure.
In truth, Anne hadn't any idea why Dumbledore might want to see her and Gilbert. How could she have forgotten? Anne couldn't help but notice that Gilbert had already left.
She was extremely hopeful that Dumbledore had found a way to send them back. Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards in the world, after all. If he couldn't find a way, who could? Hogwarts and the Wizarding World were wonderful, but she was already longing for her home back at Green Gables. To her surprise, she found she missed everyone there: Matthew, Marilla, Diana, Ruby, Mrs. Lynde – maybe even Josie Pye, just for a familiar face.
Anne took a few more turns before realizing she had not clue where Dumbledore's office was. Or where she was, for that matter. Well, it can't be that hard to find, she reasoned, After all, a headmaster's office had to be accessible to the students, didn't it? Maybe she could find her way back to the Great Hall and work from there--? She reread Dumbledore's slanted writing, desperately hoping for some kind of encrypted direction.
Dear Ms. Shirley,
As we discussed upon your arrival, the best choice in light of your situation is for you and Mr. Blythe to stay at Hogwarts in the meantime. I apologize for not being able to help you become more acquainted with the Wizarding World, as I've been rather busy lately, but I trust that Tom has helped you adjust.
Consequently, I would like to discuss recent findings I'm sure will be of interest to you. If you would be so kind as to come to my office after the welcoming feast, we can discuss this at a greater length. I wish you a safe journey to Hogwarts.
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I particularly enjoy peppermint humbugs.
Anne sighed, thoroughly exasperated. What did peppermint humbugs have to do with anything? She took another flight of stairs before having the misfortune of running straight into Gilbert.
"Mr. Blythe," she said coolly, and turned her back on him, trying to reorient herself.
Gilbert, who looked like he hadn't much of a clue where he was either, tried to ask her something. She pointedly ignored him. She'd find Dumbledore's office somehow – she'd rather search the whole castle before willingly pairing up with him, she thought stubbornly.
"Lost, my dears?" a kindly voice asked.
Anne looked up in surprise. Floating a few feet from them was the Hufflepuff ghost from before.
"Yes," she replied. "Could you direct us to Dumbledore's office?"
"Dumbledore's office?" asked the perplexed monk, "You're quite a ways from there. Haven't been up to any mischief, I hope?"
Anne shook her head. "Dumbledore wants to see us."
The Fat Friar, as he said everyone called him, lead them to Dumbledore's office. Anne found the jolly ghost very easy to talk to. She and the Friar chattered on, trying to fill the awkward silence between her and Gilbert.
"Ah, here we are." The Friar stopped at a strange looking stone gargoyle.
"This is Dumbledore's office?" asked Anne uncertainly.
"Oh! You need to tell the gargoyle password to open it, of course."
Password? Dumbledore hadn't mentioned any password. Anne glanced over at Gilbert, who looked equally confused.
"I see Dumbledore forgot to give you the password. I'm afraid I don't know what it is either," the Friar said fretfully. "Not to worry, I'll send over one of the professors to help you. In the meantime, try guessing. Dumbledore's known for having queer passwords," with that, the Friar disappeared through a wall.
Anne stared helplessly at the stone gargoyle. What on earth could Dumbledore's password be?
"Founders?" tried Gilbert hopefully. The statue didn't move.
No, thought Anne, that would be much too easy for someone to guess.
"Oddment?" Anne tried, but with no result.
She remembered the odd postscript at the end of Dumbledore's letter. She wondered, could it be --?
"Peppermint humbugs?"
The stone gargoyle leapt aside and the stone wall behind it split open. It revealed a large, slowly moving spiral staircase.
As Anne and Gilbert stood on the moving staircase in awe, the stone wall resealed itself behind them...
The rest of the Gryffindor first years sleepily followed Percy out of the Great Hall, and up the winding staircases. They came to a sudden stop in front of a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung open to reveal a large hole in the wall. They all climbed through the doorway and found themselves in the Gryffindor common rooms. It looked warm and inviting, decorated predominantly in red and gold.
The first years stifled their yawns.
Percy directed the boys to a staircase on one side of the room, and the girls to another. Drowsily, the girls climbed the winding staircase. At the top, they found four four-poster beds hung with heavy, red velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been moved to the foot of their beds. Exhausted, they slipped on their pajamas and soon feel into a deep, warm sleep…
Gilbert knocked on the heavy wooden door tentatively. "Come in," a voice said from the other side of the room. The door swung open, and Anne and Gilbert found themselves in the peculiar room they had landed themselves in the first day in the strange new world. The professors that had been in the Great Hall were congregated around Dumbledore's desk. Gilbert looked nervously at the teachers gravely studying him and Anne.
"Sit down, my children," said Dumbldeore, motioning to two cushy purple chairs he had conjured upon their entrance.
"As you are aware, I have requested your presence here tonight to discuss your predicament. Because of the seriousness of this situation, I felt that we had to address this as soon as possible. I know you have travelled a long way, and I will try not to keep up too long after curfew, or Madame Pomfrey will have my head." He glanced at a middle aged witch that was clearly not happy with the fact that her new students would be deprived of sleep before their first day.
"Because there was no backlash as a result of informing me about your dimension travelling, it seems that we have broken no rules of time. I hope you will find it acceptable that I have informed some of the Hogwarts staff about your situation as well. Professor McGonagall, your head of house, Professor Flitwick, Professor Burbage and Madame Pomfrey and myself can help you adjust to this new time period, and answer any questions you may have. However, I ask that you do not tell anyone else about time travelling. Information like this could be dangerous if it were put in the wrong hands, and because we hope that we can return you to your proper time period as soon as possible, it would be best for the smallest number of people to know about this."
Anne bit her lip. She'd definitely have a problem with this rule. She was often told that she should think things through before words came out of her mouth. It looked like she would be putting this practice to the ultimate test in the near future, when she was chattering on with Hermione.
"Allow me to introduce you to some of the Hogwarts staff that will be able to aid you during your stay here," continued Dumbledore, "Madame Pomfrey, our school nurse, who will be giving you both a diagnostic test," the matronly woman was still doing her best not to glare at Dumbledore, "Professor McGonagall, your head of house," he motioned to a stern looking witch who gave them a nod, "Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher," a tiny, excitable looking man, "and of course, Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts." The middle aged brunette witch smiled warmly at them.
"I can't imagine how difficult it would be to be a muggleborn one hundred years behind," she said sympathetically, "My door is always open, my dears, if you have any questions."
Anne smiled back at the kindly witch -- she knew she was a kindred spirit instantly. She definitely hoped she would see the young professor more.
"Of course, Professor Bubbage is correct in saying that finding yourselves nearly a hundred years in the future would be a mind-boggling situation for anyone. No doubt you've already come across something strange that definitely was not part of your time."
Gilbert debated with himself as to whether or not it was the right time to ask what a 'telly' was. He decided against it. Anne, however, didn't hesitate in speaking her thoughts.
"Oh yes! The girls here wear the same trousers as the boys do! Can you imagine? Although I do admit, they do look easier to move around in. But the strangest thing of all is that all of them are that same shade of blue. And the skirts that few of them wear only come up to their knees! I could probably get used to wearing trousers, but I don't think I could ever be comfortable wearing such a short skirt- it just seems a little indecent, doesn't it?"
One of the professors coughed. Gilbert sat at the edge of his seat awkwardly. Trust Anne to notice the trousers of all things. She was going to be heartbroken when she got around to noticing that girls' trousers weren't they only difference in fashion – he saw hardly anyone wearing puffed sleeves.
Dumbledore chuckled, "As it is Ms. Shirley, Professor Bubbage and I have arranged some private Muggle Studies lessons to help you familiarize with this time and age—as soon as you have adjusted to life at Hogwarts."
Professor Dumbledore then reached into a drawer in his desk, and pulled out the silvery device that had dropped them in this strange world. "This time turner is a rather curious device," he said, "It is set up quite differently from the way modern time turners are. Professor Flitwick and I have studied your time turner at a great length, and we have found that among other spells, was a rather complex spell similar to a portkey. A portkey is an object that can transport you wherever you wish to go on touch," explained Dumbledore, "Provided you set up the portkey correctly, of course. Quite ingenuous of them, I might say so myself, but the only problem is, this makes dimensional travelling rather one-way."
Gilbert's heart sank. Did this mean that they had no choice but to stay in the mad age?
"But," said Dumbledore quickly, "there is still much to be discovered. That faulty time turner has been giving us many surprises."
After Dumbledore had dismissed the other professors, he asked if they had any private questions.
Anne immediately asked what they should tell their classmates when questioned abou their reasons for coming to Hogwarts . She relayed the scene at dinner to him, starting with the question that Ron had innocently asked. "I suppose we were a little overwhelmed with everything, and we couldn't come up with a suitable answer. I went blank with shock. My imagination abandoned, at my greatest time of need!" Anne said dramatically.
Remembering the sense of panic that simple question had evoked, Gilbert nodded.
"Ah, I see," said Dumbledore. "It was foolish of me not to expect this kind of problem to arise so early on. Luckily, however, your reaction to the question about your families seems to match with the documents I ---ah, modified, shall we say?"
"I hope these explanations will be adequately personal enough to prevent any questions you can't answer – Hogwarts rarely accepts students from so far away. To fill in any gaps, it would probably be best to stick to real events."
"As for Mr. Blythe, I have recorded that your parents sent you to stay with a relative while your parents are figuring out their martial and custody issues."
"Ms. Shirley, however, was discovered by one of the Hogwarts staff who happened visiting Canada on a trip, noticed a display of accidental magic. Conveniently, Professor Babbage was on a cultural trip in Nova Scotia last month. Unfortunately, Ms. Shirley, you cannot be traced back to Matthew or Marilla Cuthbert, because they never adopted a girl in this universe, so we must say that at the time, you were still living with Mrs. Thomas."
"But Professor," said Anne, "Wouldn't it have been easier for me in this hypothetical situation to go to a school in Canada instead?
"Your mother and father actually attended Hogwarts when they were young," answered Dumbledore. Anne's eyes widened. "So it would be perfectly reasonable for the ministry to allow you to choose Hogwarts as opposed to a Canadian school. Your parents moved to Bolingbroke to teach at a smaller Canadian academy just before you were born, which is why you've spent almost your entire life in Canada."
He handed Anne an old photograph of a young couple waving energetically at the camera. Anne clutched the photo tightly.
"Bertha Willis and Walter Shirley!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining. "Aren't those perfectly wonderful names? And my mother wasn't homely at all, even though she had red hair! Mrs. Thomas always said that red was a most unbecoming hair color; she said it made them look sickly --"
Dumbledore cleared his throat. Anne blushed. "The back of the Hogwarts library keeps old school records, if you are interested, Ms. Shirley. I'm sure you dig up some more photographs there."
"Is there anything else you would like to ask me?"
A pressing question had been nagging at Gilbert ever since he had gone into Diagon Alley to buy books with money Tom had given him. Even secondhand books had been rather expensive; surely Tom wasn't going to pay for the both of them until they went back?
"Well, sir, " he began hesitantly, "I was wondering how our school fees and other expenses would be covered."
Dumbledore blinked in surprise, before looking thoroughly amused. "The practical one, I see, Mr. Blythe. To answer your question, I have set up scholarship funds that you and Ms. Shirley have access to. Owls from Gringotts, the Wizarding bank, with the information should come within the end of this week. On occasion, we have students that cannot pay for Hogwarts fees because of financial reasons, and they are given scholarship loans to aid them throughout their school career. If you and Ms. Shirley manage your money well, the money currently in your funds should sustain you until the end of this year." He paused. "However, I hope you will be back at your homes in Avonlea by then."
He continued. "Before I send you children off to the Gryffindor Tower," he glanced at Gilbert, who was slouched drowsily in his chair, "I took the liberty to find some books on rare cases of time travel. You may find the information in these books helpful…"
The sleepy children trudged out of his office after pocketing the shrunken versions of the books. Once he had heard the stone gargoyle in front of his entrance lock back in place, he rounded on an old tattered hat.
"Care to share as to why you put those two in the same house?" he asked, with obvious curiosity. The expression on Anne's face when he had told her that they would be having the majority of their classes together was nothing close to joy.
"Now Albus," chuckled the hat, "You know very well that what I hear in a student's mind is confidential."
"Well, it was worth a try," said Dumbledore good naturedly, finding lemon drop and popping it in his mouth. After all, a meddlesome old sorting hat needed to have its fun once in a while.
A/N:
Did you know there's a daylily called 'Moonstruck Madness'? It's actually quite pretty --it's our profile picture at the moment. :)
We (especially Junie) are really, really sorry for the delay in posting this. School midterms and computer problems take up a lot of time. Hope the extra long chapter makes up for it!