(Minerva McGonagall - PoV)
Setting my quill down, I ensure the ink is dry before carefully rolling up the latest parchment and placing it in the finished pile.
Another one down.
Brief satisfaction fills me as I look over the pile of completed work.
...Too brief, as I turn my attention to the significantly larger pile in my "In" box.
One down, entirely too many to go.
Sometimes I truly lament ever accepting the position as Deputy Headmistress. Not so long ago I would spend the first day of term looking over the incoming students! Watching for problems, nodding to favorites, discussing things with the other teachers...
These days I can barely keep track of he goings on in my own House. In all honesty, and as much as I loathe the very idea, stubborn pride, I really should pass the Headship off to someone with more time for the duties required of it. Alas, no one has proven truly suitable thus far, leaving my lions in the lurch...
*Pop*
My musings are interrupted by the arrival of another roll of parchment demanding to be completed. One twice as thick as my recently completed roll...
My eye twitches.
*Pop*
And another, even larger one, appears on top of it.
Despite my best efforts, I am unable to suppress the growl that escapes my throat.
I do manage to resist the urge to throw the damned cursed box out the window...again.
Mostly by remembering the extra forms I have to fill out to replace it.
...
Sighing like the old woman I try my best to pretend not to be, I lean back in my chair, arcing my back and stretching my arms. And I curse Dumbledore once more for tricking me into this.
Canny old codger. He knew exactly what he was getting me into and I fell for it without question.
The series of quiet pops and cracks from my stretch are quite the relief.
"Ah! There we are. That's a bit better, at least."
Settling back down, I sit properly.
Now, it should be getting close to time. Should I head out now, or try to get just a bit more done first?
*Pop*
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.
No.
No more tonight.
I shall go check in on the new batch of younglings, on the latest generation to walk these halls, and enjoy the celebrations. This disaster can wait until the 'morrow!
With a decisive nod, I stand, adjust my robes, don my hat, and make my way out.
*Pop* *Pop*
My exit might possibly be described as "storming" out, slamming the door behind me. If so? Only the paintings could stand witness, and they know better than to speak of it.
Thankfully, the walk through the halls helps to regain my composure, especially once I reach my spot.
Despite all the limitations placed upon my time by my duties, I still take the chance each year to watch the new students coming in across the lake.
It is one of the highlights of my year, truly. Watching them slowly sail in across the waters on boats enchanted by the founders themselves, gazing at the castle in wonder and awe. I can guess a fair bit about each student from their gazes alone on that little trip.
Of course, normally, trying to make out such detail at night would be quite impossible, especially at such a distance.
Chuckling, I take position at my usual window, in a much better mood.
With a wave of my wand, I cast the Cat's Eyes spell.
Or Dumbledore's insane bastardized version of it.
I close my eyes as I do so, a lesson we learned the hard way. Best to give things a moment to adjust.
Human transfiguration is, of course, a terrible idea. Virtually never worth it.
Charms, however? Based on the ideas, the structure behind certain transformations? Far more acceptable.
When I was much younger I wanted to keep the vision from my animagus form, and so developed a spell for it. It was a nifty little thing, one I was quite proud of.
During the war, however, it went from "nifty" to "vital".
Of course, then came the "vision arms race" as several Order members came to call it, and Dumbledore, and Moody, ended up using my spell as a base to develop something altogether more complex.
Mmm. That should do it.
Opening my eyes, I blink several times at the sudden brightness and detail of the world before focusing on the lake.
The lake which is much brighter than it should be, even accounting for my newly enhanced vision, on account of all the bloody spellfire.
What in Merlin's name is going on down there?!
Gripping my wand tightly, I ruthlessly quash the dreadful memories that threaten to rise up in the back of my mind and prepare to call for help.
Focusing, I look closer at the apparent battle on the lake below.
My hesitation is quickly justified, as there are no masks amongst them, silver or otherwise. No ragged cloaks or blood-drenched figures. No, it seems the children are battling each other...with the attackers carrying black flags.
...
Instincts near-forgotten after having lain dormant for over a decade, but heavily engrained from magnitude and near-constant use emerge in full working order as I react without conscious thought.
"BLACK!"
(Coeus Black - PoV)
Dumbledore and McGonagall are waiting for us on the dock as we arrive.
Dumbledore is putting on a more serious "elder wizard" act than his usual persona, standing tall and powerful in dark blue robes with a star and moon pattern. His, admittedly impressive, magic washes over us as we dock, but is slowly cut off as he carefully eyes each student through his spectacles.
McGonagall is far less reserved. Her entire bearing brings to mind an enraged cat, hissing and ready to pounce, and her attention is focused almost entirely on me. I am not sure if she could glare any harder if she tried.
They at least give us all time to disembark and gather up on the dock before approaching.
Mckitty opens her mouth, likely to go on a tirade, but Dumbledore cuts her off before she can even begin.
"Mr. Black," he starts. His voice is calm and level but manages to project seriousness and power while demanding respect at the same time.
"Where are the rest of your classmates? And Hagrid?"
Hmm. I think it is a mix of factors. His reputation, tone, eyes(which are surprisingly hard), and magic. Especially the magic.
I nod.
Yes, he is definitely using some kind of subtle magic.
Bloody cheater.
Phoebe elbows me.
"What?" I ask her.
She rolls her eyes.
Oh, wow. It turns out McGonagall actually can glare harder.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, seems surprised, and less certain than before? Despite continuing to gaze at me intently, his eyes no longer hold their previous edge.
"Answer the question!" the deputy headmistress demands.
"Sorry, could you repeat it?" I ask, politely ignoring her eye twitch. "I was trying to figure out what magic Dumbledore uses for his voice thing."
The last part seems to throw her for a loop. She blinks before looking at Dumbledore questioningly.
Despite the supposed urgency of their question, he continues staring at me silently for a time.
I am looking now though, so I can see that my comment very much concerns him. He doesn't want me to know how to use the voice magic. He's going to quit using it even, just to deny it to me!
Dumbledore is the worst professor ever.
"Mr. Black, we appear to be missing several people, including your escort, Hagrid." His voice, while certainly not weak, is noticeably less now. Something that seems to shock McGonagall, considering the look she gives him. There are some mutters from the more aware students behind me as well. "An explanation would be appreciated, as well as their location."
I glare at him for a moment before nodding. It is a reasonable question.
"They opposed the dread pirate Coeus Black, and his mighty crew," I nod to my loyal crewmates, "and so paid the price! They fell, (or maybe were thrown, knocked, or kicked) overboard."
I shrug.
"Well, not Hagrid? He was a noncombatant. And as far as I know, everyone is still in or on the lake. Last I saw, he and Dora were collecting them."
Dumbledore blinks.
"Dora? Nymphadora Tonks?"
Phoebe and I glare at him.
"No. Dora Tonks Black," we correct, causing him to frown for some reason. Probably doesn't like being wrong.
"I see. Why was Miss...Black, with the first years?"
"She came to keep an eye on us," I answer.
...
The silence and stares feel a bit awkward this time, so I elaborate further.
"She didn't trust us. Thought we would get up to something."
...
The professors...well, "professor" in Dumbledore's case, continue to stare at us. I can guess what they want this time.
"We stole her wand, threw her off the boat, and hexed her until she quit following."
McGonagall sighs, rubbing her forehead, while Dumbledore's stare manages to intensify once more.
"Can you really not do anything about that curse Dumbledore? If we can't find and keep a good Defense professor then I fear we can only expect to deal with this nonsense more and more. One of our best seventh years bested by first years..."
Hey, we are awesome first years, thank you! Hardly your standard rabble! I would think this whole little show proved that nicely.
And once more, the Headmaster barely even seems to register her question, instead continuing to stare at me. It would be concerning if I didn't think he had the right idea about how to deal with her.
But then she takes offense when I do the same thing and ignore her. Bleh.
My internal debate about taking up his latest challenge to a staring contest is interrupted by Hagrid finally dragging in the worst losers of the Battle on the Lake.
"Ho!" he calls as soon as they get past the ivy. Faint noise afterward suggests he says more, but I can't make it out. Possibly talking to the students?
He is actually not in his boat, but swimming alongside it, with Dora on the other side. Instead, the various first years we(mostly I) threw into the lake have been gathered into his former boat.
I frown as they close the distance and I get a better look.
"That's more than four," I complain.
The rule was quite clear.
McGonagall, who had been watching the oncoming boat with some measure of relief, returns to glaring at me.
There are a handful of glares from the other students as well.
I roll my eyes.
I'm not the one who made the stupid rule. And we already lost one boat today, do they really want to lose another? I am not taking responsibility if this one breaks.
"The rule is more of a general one," Dumbledore finally speaks, regaining my attention. "And is more to prevent students from overcrowding and falling out of the boats than due to fear of damaging them."
"Oh." I nod in understanding. "That explains how Hagrid can use them then."
He chuckles lightly, though it doesn't quite seem to reach his eyes.
"Yes, very much so, very much so."
He gestures to McGonagall as the boat arrives, and everyone climbs onto the dock. She gives me one last glare before heading over to the group.
I focus my attention on the old wizard next to me.
He strokes his beard, looking in the direction of the other students but obviously not really looking at them.
"The enchantments have held for centuries, obviously. Since the founders themselves. They are quite resilient and have survived incredible wear and tear, and many, many generations of clumsy and careless students."
Uh oh.
He sighs before turning his attention to me.
"They are not, however, capable of enduring direct, destructive spells. Apparently."
His gaze is half-lidded, his voice near sardonic.
"Not something we ever tested, mind. I suppose we hadn't seen a need to. Proven wrong, once again." He shakes his head.
"Regardless, I don't suppose you had a reason for breaking an irreplaceable Founders artifact?"
Iris sharply draws in a breath behind me.
Shit. Think.
"Uh...I didn't mean too?"
Dumbledore's head tilts slightly.
"I did it!" Iris yells from behind me before stepping forward.
I frown at her as she stands beside me, but she ignores me.
"I...I did it," she repeats determinedly, staring at Dumbledore.
"I see..." he replies.
"Damnit Iris," I complain, "I had this!"
"You didn't," Phoebe speaks up from my other side.
...damnit.
Defeated, my shoulders sag, and I hang my head.
"You both suck at listening to your captain..."
Phoebe pats my shoulder.
Dumbledore clears his throat.
"Miss Potter?" he prompts. "Why, exactly, did you break the school boat?"
He seems...different, now, however. His stance has changed slightly.
"I..." she cringes a bit before looking towards us. We smile at her, and I swear I can see the fire in her eyes before she straightens up.
"Because they wouldn't surrender."
...
Iris continues to make me proud.
And it now seems to be her turn to get stared at by Dumbledore.
Also, McGonagall and Dora, who had been coming over to join in on things, have stopped dead in their tracks and are staring as well.
Iris stares right back at the elder wizard as she continues.
"I couldn't hit them with my spells because they were ducking behind the side of the boat. So I figured, they can't hide behind cover if there *is* no cover. So I blew it up."
She nods.
"The sinking was a happy accident. They surrendered pretty quickly after that." She pauses. "I, uh, didn't know about the Founder thing. I guess that's why Phoebe said not to break any more."
Dora facepalms and the professor sags, muttering to herself.
Dumbledore eyes Iris rather intently.
"Would you have, otherwise?" he asks.
She blinks at him.
"What?"
"Would you have intentionally broken more of the boats, with your classmates inside them, sending them into the lake, if the boats were not Founders artifacts?"
"Oh." Iris hesitates. "I, uh, don't know?" She answers before looking over at me.
"Did you want to capture the boats or just win in general?" she asks.
"Hmmm."
I have to think one that one for a moment.
"I wanted to capture them, but partially because of the Founder thing. If they were just generic boats sinking them would be fine, I think. Possibly even more fun, even if we would be lacking in loot."
Nodding, she turns back to Dumbledore.
"Yeah, I would then."
His stare continues for several moments.
"I see."
He appears about to say more but shakes his head instead.
"Unfortunate. Regardless, this entire incident has been...quite something. In all my years at Hogwarts I have never seen students get up to quite so much before their sorting, which leaves me in something of a conundrum as to what to do, hmm..."
"Oh, that shouldn't be an issue."
Everyone turns towards the entrance to the castle proper. Grandfather stands in the doorway, hands resting on his cane, a smile on his face.
I catch the grimace flash across Dumbledore's face before he hides it.
Hah!
"Arcturus," he greets him neutrally, with a nod.
"Dumbledore," Grandfather nods back.
"I was a bit late to the feast, I am afraid. The new students put on quite the show on the lake this year," he explains while walking closer, his cane tapping on the stones in a very deliberate manner.
And Grandfather was watching us? Awesome!
"When I did make it to the Great Hall, and found you were missing? Well, I took a guess as to where I could find you."
Joining our little circle, he plants his cane firmly in front of himself, his hands resting on its head, and exhales with a smile as he looks around.
Dumbledore is very much on guard. Cautious, even. McGonagall finally has someone else to glare at. Dora looks absolutely done and ready to go to bed. Oh, we need to give her her wand back at some point, don't we?
Hagrid is still with the rescuees, patting one of them on the back. They are clustered together near most of the other first years a little ways away. There is a noticeable divide between those that joined me and those that didn't.
"And here we are," Grandfather says.
"Here we are indeed," Dumbledore repeats softly.
His gaze sharpens.
"Why are we here?" he asks.
"Hmm? Oh, I thought that would be obvious? You came to punish my grandchildren. I came to stop you."
...
Wow. He just laid it right out there.
Grandfather is awesome.
McGonagall practically chokes at his statement, but Dumbledore doesn't seem the least bit surprised, merely nodding.
"You do realize how many rules they broke? I am honestly having some difficulty counting them, even before factoring in the destruction of a priceless artifact."
Grandfather waves it off.
"Mostly true. However, aside from being part of a large group, they have not been sorted and had never stepped foot in the castle. They may have been offered a place as students, but were not quite students yet."
Dumbledore frowns heavily, but Grandfather speaks up again before he can object.
"We could argue the point if you wish, of course, but I think we both know it really doesn't matter who is right."
The bearded wizard doesn't hide his grimace this time and looks away rather than argue the point.
"As for the boat, well," Grandfather glances towards Iris.
"That wasn't actually my grandchildren, so I know you wouldn't pursue it as hard," Iris stiffens, "But, especially after her little display?"
He smiles at her approvingly before looking back at the old man.
"She certainly has my support as well. And "priceless" is rather debatable. I suspect the rest of the board will have no trouble naming a price."
Dumbledore's brow furrows, and Grandfather claps his hands.
"So! Now that that's all taken care of, I do believe it is time for the Sorting? If I am not mistaken, we are rather behind schedule. I am sure the many young bellies above us are getting rather impatient, so unless you want another battle on your hands...?"
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