In which Augusta's open letter gets published, and Nagini gets a new nanny.
Enjoy!
A_A
The Monday morning at the Slytherin table was usually quite tense. Old Slytherins expected the known behaviour from the new Slytherins but had no intention of actually saying so openly in most cases. Zabini was quite blunt about the rules. He was generally quite straightforward when it came to official or organisational matters (including him being in charge).
Did Ron like it?
Absolutely not.
Had he any chance of changing the situation?
Not likely.
Did he obey?
Not at all.
Because he wasn't about to care, whether his clothes and hair were neat in the morning when he was hungry, and everything he could think about was food. He was less likely to care about how he eats and how much he puts on his plate or into his mouth. The only breakfast rule he followed to the letter was to not engage in such activities as reading a book, preparing for classes, doing last-minute homework, or generally doing anything else besides eating or conversing, with the exception of leafing the paper to converse about it. Ron had no interest in anything besides eating. And that was the only Slytherin rule he willingly followed.
Zabini named many more, including the one making him the head of their dormitory and - later on - their year. He hadn't had much competition with girls, as - apparently - Pansy was always lower in the hierarchy, and the newbies didn't matter.
After the announcement, Ron flipped him a bird and shut his curtains closed.
The rest of the new Slytherins didn't know about the rules yet (sometimes because the dormitory had no former Slytherins or because former Slytherins were above instructing the lesser creatures in manners), knew and tried to obey (like Smith, that git), or some ignored it like Ron (although less than one person for a year). Ginny, for example, obeyed the rules if they suited her, but Percy seemed to instruct others about how they should obey. And - as the only new Slytherin - he quickly dethroned Cassius Warrington in their year as dormitory using his title of the Head Boy. Who knew that Percy was so slimy?
All the ignorant students refused to obey or obeyed the rules inefficiently, causing the whole rest to eat their breakfast with contemptuous smiles aimed at messed hair, crooked ties, elbows on the table or - worst of all - chewing the food openmouthed and (Merlin save us!) talking full mouth.
At this precise moment, Ron was an object of quite a few of such scornful gazes, and - with premeditation - he stuffed his mouth full of bacon and asked to be passed juice. Pansy Parkinson looked like she was about to vomit, and Zabini only snorted in response. So Ron leaned over the table (his tie falling into scrambled eggs) to grab a jar himself.
He was in the middle of filling his glass when Errol half-landed, half-crushed into the plate of fried tomatoes and a bowl of beans, spilling the tomato sauce all over the table and the closest Slytherins.
"For the love of Circe!" Goldstein exclaimed indignantly, trying to remove the sauce from his chin and smearing it even more. Everybody around was cleaning their faces and clothes. Zabini I-eat-only-buns-and-jam-for-breakfast knocked a tomato of his peach jam with a clear distaste.
Normally, Ron would burn with shame, but now? In these circumstances? He loved Errol more than any other bird in the world! For a while, he enjoyed the mess, still not found as a guilty party, and then he reached for the greased envelope now resting in the half-empty plate of sausages.
"Thanks, Errol," he announced, looking at the bird, who got up and now shook his wings vigorously, showering Zabini and his buns with more tomato sauce.
"That is a serious violation of animal rights," huffed Smith, his eyes glued to the old owl.
"That is poverty," Zabini corrected him with a scowl. "And ruined breakfast. Owls aren't that expensive, Weasley. Would you like one of mine?"
"Fuck you, princess," Ron shot back, although now his ears reddened treacherously. The letter, of course, was from his mother. He expected it. Percy and Ginny already got one each, and each was silent ever since, not willing to talk about the contents. He ignored further commotion caused by waving wands and cleaning the mess.
"Of course, you don't mind," said Pansy Parkinson, glaring at Ron, "Why have we got the worst Weasley possible?"
Ron felt his face heat up but didn't reply. The letter was impossibly long, even for his mum. She started with 'Dear Ronnie,' as always, so that was a good sign.
I am sorry to keep you waiting, but you must imagine how shocking and worrying it was for me to find out about the happenings in Hogwarts. The forced resorting of all students?! I would have thought that the whole ordeal was staged and somehow faked if not for the assurance from Albus that he accepted this to happen. He told us...
Here, Ron was certain that 'us' referred to the Order of Phoenix and not only his parents.
... that the founders found a problem with the Sorting Hat that he was unable to detect and fix. He assures us that they had the best intentions, but they shouldn't be trusted. After all, we know nothing certain about them, and their affiliations and actions may result in trouble. Don't worry yourself too much with them, but please keep your distance and advise the same to Hermione and Harry. You three should stick together! Not only do I think so, but also your father and Albus. You went through all of this trouble as friends, and you will go through this sorting as well.
So far, so good. She didn't seem angry with him for the sorting, however despicable it was.
About the sorting... I am still in great shock. We are, after all, the family of Gryffindors for generations! Of course, there were some exceptions, mostly Hufflepuffs on your father's side of the family and some Ravenclaws on mine, yet Slytherins... Ronnie, I am so worried about you there! I'm worried about all of you.
Fred in Ravenclaw? He had barely three OWLs! I can't imagine how hard it must be for him to be surrounded by all those smart children! And separated from George? It would still be much better for them to be together. You know how inseparable they are. At least Hufflepuff is not such a bad house to land in. I wouldn't imagine either of the twins landing there and being separated. I wrote to them to support each other during this time. That must be so hard for them.
I know Percy was always ambitious, maybe even a little too much, but I didn't expect this kind of ambition to erode his kind heart and soul! You must know, I have written to him in the hope of waking him up, to make him come to his senses before it's too late. If he was sorted to Slytherin of all places, I fear what he may be capable of for his ambitions and what he will become if he either soaks in the ugly ways of Slytherins or sinks under the pressure of his peers. I only console myself, saying that he's to be there for only one year.
Ron rolled his eyes. Percy was a slimy snake just right, and he seemed to fare better than those who remained Slytherins after the resorting.
Ginny is keeping me awake at night. She's such a sweet girl, so harmed after her first year; watch out for her, Ronnie. She will need you in the house of the insidious snakes. How is it possible that such a sweet, innocent, charming child landed in Slytherin? Can you imagine what this will do to her? Perceived as an overly ambitious woman? The dowry hunter? The woman without moral boundaries? And if she'll truly soak up the corruption of this house?
I am sharing this with you so you'll understand the next part of my letter. I worry about all of you and your futures after landing in such a house. What happened to you, Ronnie? You were always such a brave boy and a loyal friend. You were always modest about all the great things you achieved with Harry and Hermione. I may understand why Hermione is in Ravenclaw, and even if I fail to understand why Harry is in Hufflepuff, I mourn that you and he were separated. It would be better for you to be with him in Hufflepuff if you couldn't remain in Gryffindor. Albus always said that you three are like the spells cast by the same wand, the perfect Gryffindors! What more could I want?
What is happening, my dearest Ronnie, that you were sorted into this den of snakes? You do not share Percy's ambition, and you were never deceitful, cruel, or a bully. You were always so far from their atrocious views about blood, bordering on blood supremacy. What is wrong, Ronnie? How may I help you? Maybe it's not too late, and if we sort out your problems, you could still resort to Gryffindor, or at least Hufflepuff, with Harry.
'No Ravenclaw for me,' Ron thought, scowling over the letter. But the words, most of all, made him feel... rotten. Because he knew, he knew what the Slytherins were like, and yet he got sorted right among them. So there must be something wrong with him, something absolutely disgusting, slimy, repulsive.
Please write to me about what pains you, tell me what is wrong. If you wish, I may ask Albus so you can visit home, and we can talk and sort things out. Over the next weekend, perhaps? Think about it, Ronnie. I'm certain Albus will agree to try again after you are fine again. I asked Ginny and all your brothers the same. Percy refused to come, and Ginny... I fear that she won't come either. Maybe you could change her mind.
Please, care for your sister!
Love,
Mum
Ron pushed the letter to his book bag and returned to his breakfast, now scowling at it. For a long time he wondered what is his problem? What is wrong with him? And would Dumbledore truly agree to sort him again, after he fixes the issue?
"Looks like she's on the founder's side," Ron caught the end of Zabini's sentence.
"It's only reasonable since her grandson is the heir of Gryffindor. As far as we know, she might be as well," Smith suggested.
"No, she's not," Pansy rolled her eyes, "How may you not know this? Augusta Longbottom nee Greengrass. And do you see any of the Greengrass sisters parading themselves in red and gold as Gryffindor's heirs? Besides, my great-grandmother said that Longbottoms were quite vocal some time ago about their relationship with Gryffindor. It was over two centuries before, but still, that was part of what made Harfang and Harding Longbottom such eligible bachelors to catch Black and Greengrass girls."
"He's a muggleborn; of course, he doesn't know," Padma rolled her eyes. "They never know anything basic. Slytherin is right about that. We should educate you a little... You and Weasleys,"
Ron raised his eyes at his name, to catch a scornful look of Padma Patil, "What?" he asked then.
"You're basically a savage, Ron. Just look at you. Should I conjure you a mirror? You're still spotted in the sauce. You have beans in your hair, and... oh, Morgana! Close your mouth! It's disgusting!" she exclaimed as Ron purposefully presented her with the half-chewed contents of his mouth.
"I've lost my appetite," said Pansy, loosely folding her napkin and placing it on the side of her serving when standing up. The rest of the fourth-years followed her example. Ron only rolled his eyes and loaded more beacons onto his plate. Although, he noticed the left-behind newspaper and reached for it, judging rightly that they were talking about the article. It screamed off the first page: Lady Augusta Longbottom, head of the house Longbottom and the governor of Hogwarts, expresses her concern about the state of Hogwarts and British education.
It wasn't the Daily Prophet but the Wizarding Gazette. A newspaper read by old and wise people, not by some kid in Slytherin. Yet, Ron opened it and began to read, not minding if some sauce or grease splashed over the pages. He read only a couple of sentences and tossed the paper aside, rolling his eyes. That's why nobody read it! It was so damn boring!
A couple of tables away, Hermione was of entirely different opinion. Just a moment before, Rowena slid a newspaper in her direction. Now, Hermione was reading aloud to her friends. All of them were eating in silence, leaning towards her, to hear better despite the morning buzz of the Great Hall. They just passed the first paragraph of introduction.
"The first troubling issue I mentioned above, the state of education, is an issue that needs to be discussed at least in two dimensions. As many are aware, the Hogwarts curriculum is the document first prepared at school and then assessed and corrected by both the head of governors and the Ministry of Magic. The head of governors aims for the highest standards of each subject, and the Ministry of Magic adjusts the curriculum according to the demands of the labour market."
"Both institutions have a say, yet save for the minimum stated in the Act on Magical Education, nothing can be enforced on school. I will remind here that the contents of paragraph one of said Act determine that subjects taught in Hogwarts must include education in the fields of transfiguration, potions, charms, herbology, defensive magic, magical creatures, beasts and beings, ancient runes, history of magic, astronomy, and arithmancy. It also stresses that the list of subjects does not have to, and should not, be limited to the listed areas of magic. Simultaneously, the same Act forbids the school from teaching how to practice any magic illegal in Magical Britain."
"Currently, besides the areas listed above, Hogwarts offers muggle studies, divination, and flying, which makes for a rather meagre offer in comparison to subjects taught in the leading schools of wizardry. The subjects taught there include ritualistic magic, dark arts (in terms of knowledge about them and in the boundaries of law), hereditary talents, arts and artistry, magical sports and physical education (other than Quidditch), law, creature magic, architecture, healing, duelling, offensive magic (in the boundaries of law), warding, magical customs and traditions, and many others. The governors proposed that the majority of those be included in the Hogwarts curriculum. The Ministry of Magic judged some as unnecessary (e.g. healing, law, creature magic), while Hogwarts rejected all."
Hermione's breath hitched at this point, and she exchanged loaded looks with her new friends. Daphne gestured for her to continue reading.
"The other side of the coin is how the curriculum is followed. Year after year, we observe decreasing results of OWLs and NEWTs written by Hogwarts students. Even after the Ministry lowered its expectations five years ago. What we, the board of governors, observe is the presence of incompetent teachers and high employee turnover. We see this as detrimental to the quality of education, but our calls for change remain unanswered."
"In our opinion, the current situation is the simplest recipe for generations of undereducated wizards and witches."
Now, the looks exchanged among Ravenclaws were outright horrified, and none of them were eating. Urged, Hermione kept reading.
"The second issue I wanted to draw public attention to is the safety of our children. It is widely known that the guards of Azkaban, the most severe prison of the magical world, were present in Hogwarts for the duration of the previous year. The children were exposed to their dreadful influence, and one of them was nearly kissed! Only the additional studies and determination to succeed allowed this student to defend himself and save a soul, as no staff member was present to provide help. Not only that! During the same year, the man widely believed (although unjustly) to be a criminal, searched by the ministry, and the sole reason for the presence of dementors was able to - despite all undertaken measures - access Hogwarts not once but twice. And he didn't enter the castle grounds, but the children's dormitory. During the same year, a student was attacked and wounded by a hippogriff due to poor control over the class and inadequate precautions taken by the teacher. What is more, during the same year, Hogwarts hired a werewolf for the position of teacher without reporting the matter properly to either the Ministry or the Board of Governors. That resulted in inappropriate safety measures and endangered the lives of the students."
The last bit was hard to swallow for Hermione, as she didn't believe in Hagrid's responsibility for Malfoy's injury, and she liked Professor Lupin. Although when Augusta put it this way... Hermione was again hurried to continue.
"During the school year of 1992/1993, students fell victim to a series of attacks leading to the petrification of four students and a ghost. This issue was also withheld from public knowledge, and parents of the petrified children were informed only prior to the Christmas and Easter break when they were expected home. Furthermore, one student was placed in grave danger and was saved not by teachers but by two other students. Had those children had no faith in receiving help after passing the information on to adults? Or were two second years too foolhardy to ask for the help of an adult? The answer is neither. Those children asked for help, and it was provided by the incompetent teacher, who threatened their safety and sanity: Gilderoy Lockhart, a proven fraud."
"Prior to that, during the school year 1991/1992, students were informed not to enter the corridor on the third floor under a threat of grave danger. The doors to said corridor were secured only by a weak spell, broken with ease by a first-year student with no more than Alohomora. On the other side resided a Cerberus. Pet, to one of the teachers. The Cerberus was used to protect a powerful magical artefact, hidden in school for protection without the agreement or even knowledge of the board of governors. During the same year, the Halloween feast was interrupted by the intrusion of the mountain troll. Again, it was the students, the first-year students, that neutralised the threat under the insufficient care of the teachers. The inappropriate decision-making process led to the evacuation of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students back to the dungeons where the troll was spotted."
"Some of you may have noticed the scandalous trends I write about. Some of you might have heard of these violations of safety either from your children or (too rarely) from official sources. Those issues lay heavily on my heart, and I call to you to consider them carefully. This governor needs your support in the improvement of the quality of education and safety in Hogwarts. The proper solutions need to be discussed and implemented."
The silence fell after Hermione finished reading the letter signed by Augusta Longbottom. Not only Daphne, Tracey and Lisa were listening. More students around joined rather sooner than later and they didn't look happy.
"They refuse to give us more options?" asked Walter Pinch Smedley. "But... that's preposterous! Why would they do that?"
"My father believed that Dumbledore and the Ministry wanted us to be poorly educated," Draco remarked. "And he often petitioned for more subjects. That is until Potter talked some bullshit on him, and Dumbledore didn't get him thrown from the board."
"It wasn't Harry's fault or Dumbledore's scheme," Hermione countered sharply, "Your father..." Hermione fell silent in surprise, feeling the gentle hand of Rowena on her palm.
"That would be inconsequential now, Hermione, Draco. You may discuss that between yourselves, although I fear it isn't the best time for such discussions." Rowena said softly. "Draco's father, may we wish him well in the afterlife, petitioned often for the introduction of a couple of additional subjects. Unfortunately, like everybody else, he was unsuccessful. Augusta tells me her work at the board got significantly more difficult after Lucius Malfoy left it."
At that, Draco Malfoy puffed up, and Hermione clenched her teeth. Malfoy had nothing to be proud of! And everybody needed to know Harry was not at fault here, none of them were. Only Lucius Malfoy, who gave the cursed object to Ginny Weasley! Whatever the founders and... and Voldemort were saying, that was the fault of Lucius Malfoy. And people almost died! She almost died! Would have if she hadn't figured out the problem sooner!
The indignation brewed in Hermione as she pierced boasting Malfoy with her gaze. But she remained quiet. For whatever reason, Rowena wanted her to be silent, and it was better to be silent. Usually, Rowena didn't actually do anything in particular, but her grace was as clearly noticeable as displeasure, and her stance encouraged Hermione (and Harry! Hermione wasn't alone in that) to please the severe woman and obey her instructions. She could be icy and spiky when mildly dissatisfied, expressed her disappointment constantly when moderately upset, and when she once wanted to punish Hermione's behaviour...
The roof didn't cover the topmost floor of Badgers Keep. Initially, it was a space used for observation and defence. Currently, they walked through it to the small owlery, and Rowena intended to occupy the space with astronomy equipment. But over the years, the stones overgrew with lichens and got insanely slippery during the rainfall. They had to be removed. It was one of Hermione's tasks for the day, and with a wand, it would take her a couple of minutes. But the day before, Hermione argued with Neville's grandmother about the fate of Lestranges, believing that nobody deserved a death sentence, especially unlawful. And Rowena decided it deserved a severe punishment. She took Hermione's wand away, conjured a wooden brush with rough bristles and a wooden basket, and handed it to Hermione to complete the work manually.
It took Hermione two days and over a week for her fingers to return to their original state.
Harry was equally unhappy copying an old text of the almost destroyed roll of parchment to the new one as a consequence of letting his mouth too loose around Rowena. When she finally removed Silencio from him, he said to Hermione that he'd happily switch to cleaning the floors.
For each, it was sufficient to do as Rowena wished, no matter the request. And so, Hermione remained quiet on the matter of Malfoy's father, at least for now.
The conversation around her continued.
"But an open letter in the newspaper doesn't really change anything," noticed Lisa, "The subjects won't be introduced because of it, we won't get a guarantee to have competent teachers, nor will they care about other things any more than they did."
"It's a start," countered Daphne. "If public opinion is aware, it pressures the Ministry to enforce some change, and every change disregarded by Hogwarts will cause public displeasure. That may give the board of governors enough sway to enforce changes. Or..." she looked at Rowena, her eyes growing slightly in the brief silence, "or the school may be otherwise changed," she finished.
"A point to Ravenclaw, Miss Greengrass," Rowena said kindly, with a fleeting smile. "The commoners always had a say if only their opinion was consistent and emotions behind it were strong enough to push the masses to action. Only the tools change."
"I know of a lot of people, some of them important in Magical Britain, who would gladly support changes in Hogwarts," noticed Nott noncommittally. "I believe they'll be moved by this letter."
"Like who?" asked Fred Weasley, who was listening for a longer time but came late and needed some time to catch up and actually eat his breakfast.
"My great grandfather and his gleek friends. It takes them two glasses of firewhiskey to start a lengthy rant about how Hogwarts is none of what it was," Nott replied with an amused smile, and Hermione initially understood everything he said as a joke until Daphne scrunched her nose.
"Your great grandfather always has plenty of critics handy," she stated.
"Even I know old Cantankerous is a complainer," laughed Fred.
"Cantankerous? Cantankerous Nott?!" Hermione asked, shocked, "But... but he wrote the Pure-Blood Directory..."
"Allegedly," Theo piped in.
"I didn't know he's still alive!" Hermione continued with indignation. "That book is scandalous! I'm not the one to ban the books, but this particular one is just harmful!"
"Alive and well, I'll pass him your kind words," Theo said, not holding a smile, but he was barely heard, as Draco Malfoy said at the same time, louder "Harmful? It's a guidebook on how to protect and preserve our culture and customs. But I wouldn't expect your kind to understand."
"My kind?! My kind?!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her place, "You are a sick bigot if you think this way!"
"I am not the one to speak of that I do not understand," he replied acidly, "You ignorant."
Hermione sucked on air, looking for appropriate words, but Rowena cut them off.
"Enough," she said, and her voice was cold enough to scare Hermione. You will both report to me tomorrow before lunch. Hermione, you will show Draco the way. I expect you immediately after charms."
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said quietly, not daring to glare at Malfoy in her presence, but she heard his equally docile, "Yes, madame." The rest remained quiet for a couple more seconds, and it was Rowena who broke it.
"Do you have the copy of the book in question I could borrow?" Rowena asked, looking at Nott, and Hermione felt how something was boiling inside her. That book was an atrocity! Nothing more and nothing less!
"Not at hand, but I could ask for a copy. I'm certain my great grandfather would be happy to gift you one of his own, Madame," the boy replied with a smile Hermione didn't like at all. It was cheeky and sneaky and more Slytherin than Ravenclaw. "He considers it a very good set of guidelines and always has at least one or two copies."
Hermione judged that former or not, Slytherins would remain Slytherins forever. They just soaked in everything that the house represented in the last decades, and it was almost impossible to uproot.
Godric had the worst weekend since he knew of weekends. The meeting with Minerva and Rolanda went approximately as expected. They were both women with strong opinions, expressing themselves curtly and specifically. It wasn't really a popular type in his times. He was familiar with quite a few traits of women intermixed in so many ways while creating an individual. The woman feminine and gentle, smart and knowledgeable, strong and fierce, silent or talkative, fiery or cold, and plenty of combinations. The most experience he had with Helga (feminine and fierce), Rowena (feminine but cold and wise), or Salazar's late wife, Elowen (silent, knowledgeable, and motherly). Of course, he knew plenty of women who would never, ever cross anybody, especially the husband. Yet, he knew equally many of those who held a lot of power and plenty of those ranging somewhere in between. He watched as the little girls he brought to Hogwarts grew up to be one of the mixtures of those types and knew how it shaped and how to strengthen each of them. It simply came with plenty of variations of experience.
For some reason, Rolanda seemed to be adamant about stressing her strength in weird ways. For example, with her manly stance. As if women had to be manly to be strong. Preposterous. She seemed to be convinced that he, as a man, was trying to tell her what to do. He honestly didn't! Just the opposite, he came knowing that in this case, Minerva was in charge, and he would be severely risking their professional relationship to try and lead in what was clearly her project and passion. And talking about Minerva. She was strong, yet cut off her femininity as something that was long gone, buried, and mourned. What's more, she seemed to live in a world in which no man except for Albus Dumbledore had enough common sense to leave them without specific, fool-proof instructions.
It was simply exhausting, and for the first time in his life, he was glad to leave the female company as soon as possible, so just after accepting his share of work assigned to him by Minerva and finishing his beer. He sort of counted on talking about Quidditch with someone passionate about it, knowledgeable, and grown up. But for some reason, it seemed impossible.
The rest of his weekend was equally exhausting and confusing. Rowena assigned him to set Tommy-boy on his feet as he knew how to deal with Salazar. The problem was that Tommy-boy acted completely off-character. He acted as a juvenile, a boy of somewhere between twelve and fifteen years old. Young, lost, irrational, moody and snarky juvenile. Of course, Godric knew how to manage boys this age, but Tommy was more unhinged, and - truth be told - never, ever, any youngster shouted at Godric, "I'm almost sixty-eight!" before throwing him out of the room with a burst of wandless magic. Honestly…
Godric sincerely doubted that Tommy was so unhinged and emotional at the time of creating the Horcrux. Actually, Godric doubted that this man knew how to feel and identify any other emotions than anger and contempt. This weekend changed Godric's mind. Tommy could feel everything. He was just completely unable to identify anything other than anger and contempt. Simultaneously, he was clearly confused and suffering, as if it were a completely new problem.
Therefore, spending the majority of the weekend in the grim Riddle Manor, in the company of disturbed Tommy, and trying to keep it a secret from Salazar for as long as it took Rowena to identify the problem… It was insufferable. Leaving for Hogwarts on Monday morning was, therefore, something Godric equally longed for and feared. He actually wasn't entirely convinced whether Tommy-boy should be alone. Even if the last words Godric heard from him was furious, 'Get out!' last night.
So Godric lingered and finally went back upstairs to check on Tommy. After knocking a couple of times, Godric finally looked inside. The room was empty and impossibly messed up, including yesterday's clothes thrown on the floor and the bed skewed as if someone had fallen on it with significant force. It needed not to be said that the bed was unmade to the degree of pillows lying on the floor. Resigned and preparing for lack of breakfast before his first lesson, Godric cast a spell to locate the boy... Well, he shouldn't really think of him in this category. Even if he behaved as a child, he wasn't one and didn't look like one. One way or another, Godric descended to the lowest level of the manor. Passing the kitchen, he noticed the messed up countertops and dirty dishes. If Sal saw it... But the laboratory looked even worse. It was stuffy and soaked in clouds of steam. The ingredients lay everywhere, including the floor. Some jars were broken, one cauldron melted, and Tommy looked... well, like he lost his mind. Hunched over the cauldron, hair in disarray and sticking to the forehead above the rounded and reddened eyes. His gaunt hands shook visibly as he tried to measure the appropriate amount of herbs into the cauldron.
"You're brewing," Godric said carefully, mostly to alert the... well, boy, about his presence. Despite that, Tommy flinched, and a significant amount of powdered something dropped into the cauldron.
"What?" Tommy snapped at him, "What the fuck do you want?"
"Initially, to let you know that I'm going to Hogwarts..." Godric started, but Tommy interrupted him with an angry glare, and hissing, "And resulting in ruining my potion. I'm busy, just go and leave. me. alone."
"Yes... I'm sorry about your potion. What are you brewing? Maybe we have something in stock?"
"We have calming draughts, and calming draughts do shit! So I'm brewing this," he pushed a book at Godric, simultaneously knocking over one of the containers, which hit the floor with a soft splash and the tinkle of broken glass. This seemed to be too much to bear as Tom pushed over the cauldron with the already wasted potion. Absent-mindedly, Godrick caught it halfway to the floor with a spell and levitated it back on the counter with his eyes on the potion recipe. It was some sort of numbing potion, according to the book - perfect for panic attacks and manic behaviour. However, Rowena explicitly instructed him not to go further than the calming draught. After all, they couldn't be certain what caused this... this.
'Goodby breakfast,' Godric thought, putting the book away.
"How about sleeping draught?" Godric offered. "You'll sleep through my absence, and if everything goes well, I'll be back with a solution from Rowena."
"If?! IF?! You said I fucked up the resurrection because I had no fucking nose! And what the fuck is this if not fucked up resurrection?!"
"As I told you before," Godric replied patiently, shielding himself from stray vials and ingredients that Tom threw at him wandlessly, although it was questionable whether he did it willingly or not. "Rowena found foreign magic in the essence..."
"Nobody could have cast anything on me without me knowing about it!" Tom shouted, "It's impossible! I was perfectly aware of my core since I was thirteen! Thirteen! Do you think I wouldn't notice anything foreign? Do you think I'm an imbecile?"
"I think that when you come back to normal, you will be ashamed of all of this. And if you don't drink the sleeping draught, I'll share the memories of the melted cauldron."
"I haven't said I won't drink it," Tommy replied with an offended huff, and Godric almost sighed with relief. Maybe blackmail and shaming were some of the last resources he wanted to use, but, well, it worked, and he was hungry. He just had to push a little bit more to make him actually move.
"Then drink it. Or would you like me to pour it for you, darling boy?"
Tom went speechless. He moved his mouth as if to talk back, but nothing came out; his face twisted in fury, and he darted for the doors. The amount of force he put into shutting it back must have been supported by his magic because the wall above the door frame cracked slightly.
Content, Godric followed him to watch the spectacle of drinking sleeping draught and to get another door slammed into his face. He was just about to leave when he noticed Nagini, coiled in the corner in the defensive stance, ready to strike any moment.
"Oh sweetie," he cooed to the snake, "You must hate all this noise..."
No matter what changed, Gryffindors and Slytherins still had the defence against the dark arts together. Something that allowed Ron to join Neville, Seamus and three other boys standing with them. Their new friends. Ron didn't know how it was possible that two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw were more suited for Gryffindor than he was, but it was irrelevant for as long as he was welcome to join them for the duration of the lesson. They were so... light-hearted.
"And then Millie hit the bludger, and she did it so... guys, I swear I've never seen such a good shot! It hit straight into the post and with such a force that it bent! Hooch is so pissed! But Millie will make it to the team, I tell you," Gordon was saying with fervour, and judging by the expressions of other Gryffindors, Ron was the only one who heard it for the first time. And Millicent Bulstrode blushed fiercely under her grin, apparently not used to hearing such enthusiastic words aimed at her directly. She wasn't the classic beauty, but she looked quite nice with her chestnut hair braided loosely, and she seemed kind. 'For a Slytherin,' Ron added when he realized where she came from. But he didn't get to comment on that because, approximately at the same time, Gryffindor joined them in the corridor.
"A beater?" he asked, looking at Millicent, "Congratulations!"
"Not yet," she protested, "I just..."
"You will be our beater, or I'll eat my... Merlin's arse!" Gordon exclaimed, pointing at the floor and drawing everyone's attention to the gigantic python that slithered between them. Lavender Brown jumped back with a screech, and someone cursed loudly.
"Our guest today," Godric explained, "She must be happy to make an appropriate impression, but she rather prefers silence," he opened the doors to the classroom, allowing the snake to enter first, which she did quite eagerly. But Godric didn't move to enter or let them in. "Snakes, in general, like quiet and warm places. She ate quite a nice breakfast, and she's smart, so I can trust her not to attack any of you. However, she's still a snake. An animal. She will attack if threatened. So, Lavender, no more screaming. Keep the noise down, treat her with respect, and keep your distance. Is that clear?"
Ron nodded, and he noticed others doing the same. But Pansy Parkinson asked, "If she doesn't like noise, why didn't she eat Brown yet?"
"Very good question. That is because I asked a Parselmouth to inform her that the rabbit is a bribe for not eating one of you. He also warned her that people may scream seeing her, so she knew what to expect. What's more, snakes love attention, and this one likes the smell of fear. She likes the respect she commands. A nice rabbit, a clear explanation, some adoration, and a perspective of a day-long nap made her a very happy and complacent creature today. Any other questions?"
There weren't any, and Ron followed Neville and his new friends inside. They entered exceptionally quietly and carefully. No book bags were thrown, and no chair scraped the floor. As they all took their places, Gryffindor charmed a sunny windowsill, broadening it so the snake could fit comfortably. She was also perfectly visible for the class. Ron observed her long body slithering slowly and coiling on the stones. She was ten feet long, maybe longer; it was hard to say when she moved, and her green scales glistened. She tasted the air before her.
"What's her name?" asked Padma softly.
"Nagini," Gryffindor replied, conjuring a mouse. He played with a rodent, waiting for Nagini to arrange herself. "Her wizard is currently otherwise occupied, so I took the chance for you to meet her. Because Nagini is not a usual snake, you probably won't have a chance to meet anybody like her. Can anybody guess why?"
There was a moment of silence, after which Gordon, one of Neville's friends, asked slowly, "Anybody? Is she an animagus?"
"Not an animagus, but you are quite close. She was a woman once."
That caused a murmur in the classroom, although it was hushed. Ron furrowed, thinking of other ways for people to become animals.
"Was it... failed transmutation?" he asked.
"Closer," Godric nodded.
"Failed potion?" Zabini suggested uncertainly.
"No, not a potion. And that's a little further from the truth."
"Oh, she was cursed!" Ron realised.
"Five points to Slytherin," Godric beamed, although Ron felt a wave of disgust hearing the name of his (no, no, no!) new house. Even if Gryffindor noticed, he ignored it. "Yes. It is a curse. However, she might not have been cursed. We don't know that, and it would be hard to find out. Nagini is a maledictus. That means that either she or one of her female ancestors were cursed. If she had any children as a woman, every one of her daughters would be cursed as well. It's so-called a generational curse. One so old that even a millennium ago, it was an obscure knowledge, and only a few people knew how to cast it. It is also extremely rare, so little is known about the victims. What do you know about the generational curses?"
The lesson continued at an easy pace, and Nagini got two mice before she started snoozing on the windowsill. Actually, she didn't seem so scared right now, napping peacefully in the classroom. And she wasn't as slimy as Ron thought snakes were. They are definitely better than Slytherins. Nagini had a triangle head, possibly as long as Ron's palm, only slimmer. It looked gentle and... actually quite pretty. Ron concluded that it was utterly unfair to snakes to compare Slytherins to them.
It was the end of the second period when a gentle knocking interrupted the lesson, and as the doors opened, Rowena Ravenclaw entered. As always, she looked dignified and somehow airy, perfect. But now, she stopped after a few steps towards Gryffindor, her face minutely expressing nothing but pure horror.
"What is she doing here?" the woman asked, clearly meaning Nagini.
"He doesn't have the mind to look after her right now," Gryffindor replied lightly, "So I offered her a much more peaceful sanctuary. And it's a perfect opportunity to discuss her kind with students, don't you think?"
Initially, Ravenclaw looked like she'd like to protest or at least disagree, but Gryffindor caught her with the final argument.
"Possibly," she replied. "And that solves some issues I wanted to discuss with you. Since she's here, I can manage on my own. Find me when you deliver her back."
"Oh... yes," Gryffindor laughed awkwardly, "It would be sort of pointless to go there now. And I could... you know, clean it up a little before you go... Two guys over the weekend, the place got a little messy."
If Ron were to describe Ravenclaw's expression right now, it was very similar to how his mother looked when his dad tried to explain why she shouldn't go into the family shed on the frequent occasions when he brought home new Muggle something and enchanted it for fun in a way she wouldn't approve of. And his dad tended to look just like Gryffindor looked now.
Contrary to Mrs Weasley, however, Ravenclaw didn't start to scream.
"Very well," she said softly, "I will be there after dinner. Take care of it until then."
"Great," Godric beamed. "Until then, everything should be sorted. Will you need the lab? I'm just asking."
"No," she replied suspiciously. "Not today."
"Even better!"
The woman left, casting one last look at Nagini.
"Generational curses. We were on the way to remove..." Gryffindor went back to the lesson, not commenting on the short interruption and seemingly dismissing it from his mind. And Ron got back to taking notes. It was surprisingly easy, to be honest. Initially, he wrote too much or used too many abbreviations. But it took him only a couple of days to start creating his own system. And he stopped pressing on his quill too much. He never realised he did that until Hannah told him so last week. When he stopped, he stopped making so many blots; his writing was thinner, so he used less ink, could dip his quill less often, and wrote faster and more fluently. To be entirely honest, Hermione told him that a couple of times, but she always was saying that, sounding like his mother, and he only snapped back. While Hannah said it... well... normally. Additionally, this time, he actually cared. He had something to prove.