Chapter 6. raising standards the elven way
Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, December 31st 1993
The autumn term at Hogwarts finally came to a close. The school, both inside and outside, was overflowing with anticipation for the new year; ice sculptures carved from frozen water of the Great lake lined the courtyards, enchanted snow swirled in the corridors, the scent of fresh pine and spruce wafted from every open space. a few students that remained for the holidays, were building an exact copy of the castle from ice and snow on the Quidditch pitch. From the kitchens, a choir could be heard, singing in a language no one understood. All in all, the school was celebrating. only one person barricaded high up in his office, having more pressing matters to deal with. His name was Albus Dumbledor.
To say that headmaster Dumbledor wasn't satisfied with the changes happening in his school would be a lie of the century. No, rather not the changes themselves but whoever stood behind them, made him desperate to no end. thus, deciding to try and grab at his slipping sanity again, Dumbledor retrieved his pensive and a rack of memory fials labeled "raising standards the elven way". with practiced ease he tipped the first fial into the stone basin and dove in.
First memory: the great hall, September 1st
The start of term feast was about to begin, and Dumbledor started his pre-term speech. First announcements were met with indifference, but mentioning the new caretaker caused very mixed reactions: lenient professors cheered while stern ones glared daggers at him, pureblood children barely held back their fury while muggleborns jumped in excitement, and house elves ascended from the kitchen to greet their own. A female elf stood proudly where Argus Filch, recently fired Hogwarts caretaker, used to stand. With her olive green skin, pointy ears and bulging eyes, the creature wasn't so different from your typical house elf. Except that she was fully clothed, instead of standard hand towel all Hogwarts servants were allowed. The way she presented herself, from straight posture to strong commanding voice, showed overflowing confidence, at a level nearly equal to humans. And when she finally spoke (very unusual for an elf), the hall fell grave silent:
"my name is Alexa, from the translator / healer line." The students sat stone stil, the professors glanced to each other, open-mouthed. "yes, I speak English normally, and it will remain like that." The professors recovered from their initial shock. "I will be your new caretaker, as long as you allow me to. will start working from tomorrow, so to speak, to bring this castle up to scratch…" the rest of Alexa's speech was drowned by shouts of support and outrage, but a single snap of her fingers effectively silenced everyone. Dumbledor just sighed and put his head on his hands: Hogwarts will change from tomorrow, irreversibly.
Dumbledor emerged from the pensive and immediately dove into another memory, searching for an answer to his problems.
Second memory: headmaster's office, October 1st
He was tired, too tired indeed to do anything productive, despite of a good night's sleep. reports were piled on his ever messy desk, reports from the school caretaker. Sheets of muggle paper, filled to the edge with neet handwriting, detailed his castle's almost dilapidated state. Everything, from overly cold potions classroom to holes in the windows to loose stones in some walls, lay exposed black on white; unhealthy food, outdated broomsticks, and a ton of other problems stared at him, in the form of words and numbers. he, the headmaster of Hogwarts, had no choice but to reply to each of the papers, or otherwise risk the wrath of Sirius Black (after all, he had saddled Dumbledor with his blasted elf). Fortunately, that time a floo call or three to the board of governers solved the issue. In spite of being dead tired after said calls, Albus Dumbledor sent his agreement to rectify the problems Alexa so scrupulously listed.
"and downhill it went…" – the old wizard sighed. Was he going senile, to start agreeing with an elf, no matter how brilliant or intimidating? Even if at the end that agreement lead to life at Hogwarts getting better by leaps and bounds, not everyone were ready to just get on with Alexa working as a caretaker. And more importantly, no one would be prepared to accept what the creature did next.
Third memory: headmaster's office, October 10th
Albus Dumbledor slumped ungracefully into a chair. By now things started spiraling out of his control as never before. Immediately after confirming his agreement, Alexa started enacting her plans, no doubt backed up by Sirius and half of Hogwarts elves. In no time holes in the windows were patched, loose stones repaired, overly damp dungeons warmed. Then one night, all the old broomsticks disappeared, to be replaced with a hundred Nimbus 2000s the following morning. The students also seemed somehow friendlier, more open for conversations; gone was even the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Back in September, after a hippogriff attack at Hagrid's Magical creatures lesson, Malfoy boy had tried to file a complaint to his father, all the while taunting Harry Potter, but the other day all the third year Slytherins seemed to have forgotten the event. Dumbledor suspected Alexas involvement, but was too wary of the elf to reveal his thoughts. After all, it was all for the greater good, and that good was starting to emerge before his very eyes.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. On the other side there stood professor Filius Flitwick, accompanied by Alexa. the professor was almost jumping in excitement, glancing every now and then at a folder of musical scores in elfs hands.
"good morning Filius, Alexa. to who I ough the pleasure? It was better to be nice, or else… everyone remembered those donkey ears Malfoy got for blabbing about the hippogriff.
"good morning headmaster. We would like to ask for permission to create a choir". "stiff as always", - Dumbledor mumbled to himself, but aloud just said:
"a choir? Of course, music is magic too. Do you have your members list?" something didn't feel right. Did that elf put a compulsion on him or something?
The sheet of muggle paper had at least thirty names on it, along with assigned positions by voice, but something was so odd about it…
"excuse me, but I don't see any student on this list". "of course you don't, you old fool", - present Dumbledor cursed his memory counterpart. "that creature leads you by the nose, and no one's the wiser!"
"because there is none", - Filius again, with his annoying jovial tone. "elves are natural singers, you know, as goblins are natural warriors." Not willing to listen to what could turn into a lecture, memory Dumbledor reached for a quill and signed the list. After all the strangeness he endured, some singing from the kitchens could be acceptable, couldn't it?
Emerging from the last memory that day, Albus Dumbledor sagged in relief. At least Alexa left him the headmaster's job. Of course he will work as a paper pusher more or less, that was for sure, but otherwise nothing changed. Except for sparkling clean corridors, repaired doors and windows, subdued Peves (all throughout the term, no one was injured by falling suits of armor), and professors lead by Hagrid, deciding to go wassailing at Christmas (beautiful tradition was discontinued because of the war at the 70s, and reviving it brought joy to Hogsmeade again), everything else remained as before. Maybe after all, the school standards were rising, be it the elven way, and not Dumbledor's reputation crumbling?