Chapter 15:
Meeting the Students
Sunday morning, August 31, 1996
"Welp!" said Hadrian, "I need to head on up to my quarters and classroom. I have a lot of unpacking, organizing, prepping, and planning to do."
He got up and made to leave.
"Not to mention the paperwork, rules and regulations, and code of conduct you need to finish signing," reminded Minerva.
"Don't forget the health and safety protocols," added Rebecca.
"Albus apologized for not being present: he planned to walk you through it all. I could help in his stead—should you need assistance," Filius offered.
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Hadrian said before exiting and leaving them all to each others' company.
There was dead silence for a long while as they all absorbed the typhoon in human form they just met. Elvira was the first to break it.
"Ten galleons says he gets lost and doesn't reappear for an entire week!" The survivalist announced.
"I'll take that bet," Remus said. "After all, he got here from the entrance hall just fine by himself."
Minerva glowered at that.
"I turned my back to lead him and must have spent forty whole seconds talking to thin air before I realized he wasn't following me," she said, "how in the world did he get here by himself?"
Remus couldn't help himself.
"Stab in the dark. Maybe he's psychic?" he said cheekily, "could have doused his way here."
Rebecca and Sinistra both took his suggestion in good humor but seemed satisfied to smile and watch the goings-on.
"It's more likely that Peeves decided the only way to surprise us was to be genuinely helpful to somebody," suggested Pomona.
"Now that's a thought," Remus mused aloud. He'd have to track down the old poltergeist and ask, though whether or not the hellion would answer was a shot in the dark.
He turned back to Elvira and said warningly, "don't you go backtracking when he arrives for dinner on time. I have those ten galleons right here and a room full of witnesses".
She winked at him and the bet was on.
"Nope," Harry grimaced as he tossed aside yet another piece of junk, "not a diadem."
He threw aside the bust and tore apart the nightstand it stood on. He banished article after article of clothing, rug, curtain, furniture, container, vial, weapon, and more into separate piles but he couldn't find the diadem. He found A diadem with amethysts and cursed with a skin-melting spell, but definitely not a Horcrux. He destroyed it anyways.
"It must not be here," he finally surrendered.
This sucked. This was the only Horcrux he knew how to get to and destroy. Aside from the locket in the cave—a cave Albus never thought to tell him the location of in his world—all the others were unknown. Well, aside from the ring in the Gaunt shack, but Albus already took care of that.
He sighed in defeat and surveyed the room of hidden things and made to leave. He kept his eyes peeled during the hike back through the mountain of junk, but no glint of silver caught his eye. He finally caved stretched his magical senses, bracing himself for the horrific feeling the horcrux would undoubtedly bring when his magic touched it, like wading into melted tire rubber and doused in bile.
The feeling of such terrible dark magic never materialized, and he was forced to conclude the horcrux really wasn't there.
He exited the room of requirement and sighed. He had a familiar urge to peruse the map and while away hours scouring every nook and cranny of the school. He really wished he'd had the thing on him when he awoke in this world, it would be interesting to see if it worked in this universe and what it would show his name as.
"Oh." Harry gasped at the sudden realization.
The map. He had completely forgotten about the map. And if it worked at all like the wards at Gringotts, reading the aura mark of people placed in Hogwarts, then he was one hundred percent certain what it would show his name as.
There was a knocking at the door.
"Anybody gonna get that?" Fred hollered from his workbench where he trying to solder a billywig stinger into a whoopie cushion.
"I'll get it!" Lee said.
He saw his discolored triplet put down the measuring cup and flour before running ti the door and wrenching it open. He turned back to his current ill-advised project assuming it was just another customer. They were finally getting busy.
"Hello Mister Jordan. Aren't you going to let your new benefactor in?" A cool but giddy voice greeting Lee from the front door.
"Um... Are you Hadrian Morrigan?" Lee said after a moment.
Everybody in their miniscule apartment dropped everything and stumbled to the front door. George and Angelina charged in from the kitchen, covered in flower and still wearing their aprons and oven-mits. Katie put down the mixing bowl she was currently mixing and the sound of Alicia stumbling out of bedroom and knocking over yet another mountain of boxes they would have to re-orgnaize later.
But they all made it to the door where the swarmed the young professor.
Messy black hair? Check. Green eyes? Check. Air of mischief and Dumbledore-y all-knowingness? Double check. Facial expression crazy enough to make you believe he'd willingly date Bellatrix black? Oh yeah.
"Come in! Come in! Plenty of packages to sit on if you don't mind getting baking ingredients all over your clothes." Fred commanded.
They parted and let the man inside where he found one such pile of boxes waist height to pop a squat.
"It does smell lovely in here. I came here expecting a joke shop being run out of a tiny apartment, and instead find a pastry shop running out of a tiny apartment." He teased.
"Yeah. It's the best we can do even on six part-time incomes. But business is finally picking up." George said. "Did you like the box we sent you?"
"Loved it!" He said. "Was a little disappointed not to receive any canary creams."
Fred and George looked at one another with matching consternation. Psychic show off.
"What are canary creams?" Katie asked.
"A failed experiment from two years back." Fred said. "We couldn't get them to actually turn people into oversized canaries. The beak and eyes weren't right, and they made you grey instead of yellow."
Morrigan hummed.
"I would recommend switching the canary feathers for crane feathers, and for color add extract of golden tentacula. Dilute it as much as humanly possible though." He advised. "But anyhoo. Instead of talking products you will be releasing in the future, let's talk business. I want to invest in your little business endeavor."
It took a lot of self-restraint not to fist pump into the air at his pronouncement, but somehow George managed.
"What did you have in mind, sir." Katie asked.
"Please, please! Let's not get bogged down with the honorifics like sir... call me professor." he said with a grin.
George and Angelina snorted at the joke. But Morrigan stopped smiling at his own humor in favor of frowning at Katie.
"Miss Bell, shouldn't you be attending Hogwarts for your final year?" He asked.
Katie shrugged.
"I bailed. My fiancé already offered me my second choice in dream job, and with the war going on getting NEWTs seems less important than working and building a family." She explained. "Besides, as you showed I can always just take them later and with a few years of self-study I'll probably score higher."
Morrigan nodded at this reasoning.
"So, let's address the elephant in the room far too small for an elephant." Morrigan moved on. "You all need larger facilities to operate out of. This simply will not do."
Ouch. If he was about to propose investing enough to purchase or rent a proper store, then the percentage of dividends he would demand as a result might break the bank. There would be no profitability for the rest of them.
"And as I'm sure Albus told you in the last meeting, I recently purchased the Shrieking shack from him. it is yours to operate out of." Morrigan said.
Now that was an unexpected windfall.
"But I thought you were going to run a werefwolf shelter out of it?" George pointed out.
"And I shall. Three days out of the month. The rest of the month will see all of that space going unused. And worse, now that I'm a professor at Hogwarts with my won quarters, it is also going unlived in for the rest of the month as well. This is an enormous security risk, as there are many out there who would wish to do werewolves harm, or else sabotage the project." Morrigan explained. "With you six operating your shop out of there, that would add an additional layer of security and put my mind at ease."
Fred nodded along with his reasoning.
"So, it'll be our store for all of the month except the days of the full moon?" Fred summarized. "Do you also require us to volunteer at the shelter?"
"Only if you want to, but I would prefer you didn't." Morrigan said. "I know you six work twenty-four seven, as most new business owners do. Six people working eight hour shifts in pairs. I suggest instead you take those three days per month off. How many business owners can claim to get monthly vacations? Oh, and you should know the attic is essentially my apartment, and shall now be your apartment. When does your lease here end?"
"It's a month to month. We can technically end it now and move in tomorrow." Angelina said.
"That is excellent. The place does need some work to be a proper store. I have filled nearly every room with military style barracks, but they can easily be enchanted to have a switching transfiguration to swap between being bunk beds and store shelves. And the place does need a woman's touch, in fact it could even require three ladies to complete the task of making it presentable." He explained. "I will pay for any such improvements, in addition to a storage shed to put your products during the full moon."
Wow. This was by far a better deal than they could ever have hoped for. It almost seemed too good.
"And what do you expect in return for this business relationship?" Fred and George said at once.
Morrigan leaned back in though.
"Well, let's see. In exchange for renting out both a living space and workspace, I will already be getting your services as a layer of security and any work you put in to add equity to my property value. That is already almost enough in return. But I would also like to fund your future research and development as needed. In exchange for that I want..." He paused and pretended to count everyone in the room, pointing at them one by one until he landed on himself. "Seven. I want one-seventh of all profit. Not gross! Profit."
That was a steal, although taking into account the other benefits he pointed out that they were providing him it did seem close to fair, if slightly benefitting them. Fred was ready to reach out a hand to shake on the offer when his twin dropped a bucket of cold water on them all.
"Cut the crap." George said angrily. "What is the extra catch you want in return."
Morrigan lost all jovialness and returned George's serious expression.
"There are two." Morrigan admitted.
Here we go.
"In the likely event I die, I want you all to take over the shelter." Morrigan started. "Which is a huge addition to your workload, but I would word the contract that you are left in charge of who to pass it onto. Essentially, I will be making you the executioners of my will."
Oh. Well, that wasn't too bad.
"This of course comes with the added benefit That the Morrigan estate and the value therein will fall equally between the six of you." He explained. "Which I think should make up for the added headache this catch will bring you."
that was a bit much. It explained why he offered such a sweet deal up front.
"And the second catch?" George pressed.
Morrigan sighed. He clearly wasn't looking forward to their reaction to this one.
"There is a piece of parchment in that drawer over there." Morrigan said, pointing to George's workbench. "I want it."
Katie rolled her eyes.
"We all know about the map, professor. You can speak openly." She said.
"Oh, thank god! yeah I need the map." He said, his cheerfulness returning.
"How do you even know about it?" Lee asked.
"I'm about to lie to you. I need you to pretend to accept it." Morrigan said. "I saw it in a vision. That was the lie. Now for a truth, I require it now that I'm at Hogwarts, and you do not now that you're out of it. It is also no secret that Hadrian Morrigan is not my real name, as I only just inherited it. I need my true name to remain a secret or else I cannot succeed in my mission."
Finally! The mystery of this man was at their fingertips. And yet he was asking them up front not to open that pandora's box?
"What is your mission?" Angelina asked.
"The question on everyone's mind lately." Alicia said. "Watch him try to skirt around answering it."
"Voldemort." He said. "I am her to destroy Voldemort and end his war. that is my only purpose. I am even willing to subject myself to an unbreakable vow if that's what it takes to convince you, but my identity must remain a secret, even from you, and the map will be an invaluable tool for me regardless."
Fred whistled at the confession. It made sense, if they so much as peeked at the map during the welcome feast later that evening the cat would be out of the bag. And that he was willing to go to these extremes meant his identity might be significant enough to lose the war if it got out. He seemed Ernest, was a man of good humor, and was trusted or at least liked by far more scrupulous and wise people than them. Hell, Garrick Ollivander as a character reference was close to proof enough that he was on the side of good, wherever that side was. Speaking of Ollivander.
"Meet us at Ollivanders in ten minutes." Fred said. "He will perform the vow, and he can be a legal witness to our verbal contract until we can have the goblins hash out a proper contract."
Morrigan nodded, stood up and left without another word. When the door closed they immediately went into crisis mode.
"I want to trust him! I really do!" George admitted.
"Same. But I also really, really want to solve the mystery of Hadrian Morrigan." Alicia said.
"Professor Hadrian Morrigan." Katie corrected.
"It's a moot point. We will never get an offer that good again in our lives." Lee pointed out. "We have to accept it!"
"That doesn't mean we have to like it." Angelina finally said.
"The unbreakable vow is the only reason we should accept." George said.
"Oh right! Because having our own mansion, dream store and inheriting the power of an ancient and noble house aren't reason enough!" Katie countered.
They all had to concede to that point.
Harry entered the divination classroom rubbing the marks on his hand from the unbreakable vow. They would burn for the rest of the day, but at least it wasn't his writing hand. He would need that.
Upon entering, he confirmed what he already suspected.
"Might as well have a big neon sign saying 'Sybill was here'," he muttered to himself.
Thick, raggedy curtains that had seldom been dusted covering the many windows? Check. Tea tables stained and unpolished covering every inch of floor not hidden by ugly hippie-design rugs? Check. The only thing missing was the bat's collection of hideous teacups. Good riddance.
He walked behind the desk where another set of nasty curtains hid his new private quarters and discovered—with no small amount of relief—that it looked unlived in. Trelawney had been sacked and moved out of her own free will not murdered. In the latter case, he'd have had much more disposal work to be getting on with.
Seeing his suitcases were already there, he made his way back to the desk where the paperwork awaited him. He promptly ignored it.
"May I speak to the house-elf present?" he called out to the room while staring squarely at where his extended senses told him one stood hiding.
She popped into existence with an 'eep!' and sputtered out her response.
"How can Tofty be helpings you today, Professor Morrigan sir?" she asked.
Tofty? That sure was one peculiar coincidence. He'd have to mention it to the other Tofty when he finally joined her for weekend tea.
"Hello, Tofty. I will be doing some redecorating today and I was hoping you and a few of your friends could help me." He told her. "I will be removing these curtains, rugs, and likely the furniture. If you and some of the other house elves would transport them to the room of hidden things and bring me suitable replacements you would have my supreme gratitude."
By the time he finished his request, she was vibrating on her toes in excitement. Before he even managed to stand back up from kneeling to talk to the old creature, the curtains and rugs were gone. Just vanished, as if by magic. He had to let his eyes adjust to the sudden flood of sunlight, but when they did, he gasped at what the zealous little house elf had revealed.
The lack of curtains revealed identical pairs of glass doors at different intervals around the tower. Outside each of the doors was identical, circular patios with ornate metal railings and tarpaulin covers. He walked through the nearest set and smiled at the gorgeous view of the Black Lake and Forbidden Forest beyond.
"That woman had her students cooped up in there instead of sitting out here?" He said to himself in bafflement.
He could understand her methods to an extent. A hot, humid room filled with the vapors of many herbs in order to get her students into a drowsy state was certainly a valid way to open the mind. Especially since children were more susceptible to sensing the greater universe. But it was hardly the only way, nor one that would be effective for every student.
"Which curtains would Professor Mordrian like, sirs," Tofty's voice called from behind him.
Mordrian? He liked it!
He turned around to discover she had brought a dozen specimens from the room of hidden junk and splayed them across every available surface. Most were boring shades of brown, black, or white. He was very tempted to use a set of transparent curtains with twinkling star lights embedded into it, but it seemed more suited for a garish ball dress or a nightgown than curtains. He quickly settled on a set of baby blue curtains.
"And I would like them to be pinned to the sides of the glass doors, not covering them, if it's all the same to you." he instructed.
In short order, the patios were all furnished with metal tables and chairs matching those in some of the greenhouses, and all of the furniture inside of the classroom, save for his desk, was gone. Tofty tried to ask him what type of rugs he would like to have installed over the stone flooring, but he simply couldn't decide between all of the awful samples she brought along. And he still wanted to put some kind of paintings around the room.
For now, he opted to put it off for later and settled into his office chair to read through the documents. Oh boy were they extensive.
The first was a simple agreement to obey the law while on Hogwarts grounds. Which seemed a bit superfluous.
What was the punishment for breaking the laws inside the grounds? Same as breaking them outside of the school plus extra fines. It was kinda like traffic laws meant to prevent vehicular death or property destruction. Murder/manslaughter and arson were both already illegal. So why all the traffic stops and fines? Of course, everybody knew the real answer to that leading question.
The next one detailed proper conduct in front of students. It was all simple stuff. Avoiding four-letter words, crass statements, and discussing sex lives or in-depth personal history. Pretty obvious. There was also a dress code that explicitly forbade showing cleavage, legs or backsides for women and abdominals, chest, or codpieces for men. There was also express denial of perfumes and colognes—especially erotic ones and those dosed with magical aphrodisiacs—and of course any kind of violent behavior towards students.
The long list of violent acts ranged from slapping to spitting to pretty much every spell aside from the disarming jinx, shielding charms, and the Glisseo charm. After reading that particular bit of information, he went back and discovered "tripping" students was not mentioned on the list of physically violent acts that were forbidden. Noted.
The document did hold a disclaimer that the contract did not, in any way, restrict his legal rights to defend himself or others against deadly force with an appropriate level of retaliation from anybody. Also noted.
The dress codes and some speech codes carried with them a punishment of termination on grounds of sexual harassment, which Harry thought was a bit extreme until he thought about the way many women dressed in Muggle jobs he had worked and imagined how quickly the men in those places would have been fired if they were dressed half as provocatively... Yup, having your tits half hanging out and a skirt short enough to straight up your birth canal in a work or school environment is most definitely sexual harassment. Of course, in the Muggle world that could easily be solved by having a dress code that amounted to "Everybody must wear a suit and tie! No exceptions!" which was the dress code that the male half of the population was usually subjected to anyways.
If he ever got a job in a Muggle place again he'd have to try out wearing cod pieces and other sexually provocative clothes. It would make for easy suing on discrimination grounds if he was fired for it while his female coworkers got a free pass on their unacceptable manner of dress.
After signing that first document with the provided blood quill, it vanished to who-knows-where and he moved on to the next document.
Mediation between faculty members was also pretty simple. Keep disagreements private. Let no students see or hear about any such conflicts and if it cannot be dealt with privately, a third-party mediator—see, Albus bloody Dumbledore—will mediate it for you.
Signed and vanished.
The document detailing the proper methods for removing house points or assigning detentions and acceptable reasons to do so was rather revealing. Particularly the part detailing that all such detentions had to be observed by a third party. Usually in the form of a watchful ghost, portrait or house-elf so as to ensure that nothing untoward happens between students and faculty in private...and to ensure there were extra witnesses incapable of lying to the Headmaster in the event a student claimed something had.
Signed and vanished.
Then came the privileges of the position. It was the shortest document yet, and it detailed his right to move freely into, out of, and around the Hogwarts grounds anywhere except the private quarters of faculty and students except to guarantee said student's safety. Only heads of houses usually had any cause to enter students private quarters anyways so he didn't have to worry about that. It also specified that he had free reign over the restricted section of the library—so long as he followed the library rules—and that he had the right to know all current passwords for any and all passages such as common rooms and the headmaster's office.
Signed and vanished. He would need to ask Albus about getting copies of the documents for intermittent perusal and refreshers.
The final one, which probably should have been the first one, was an oath of secrecy. One which would magically bind him into keeping his silence on every internal practice of Hogwarts and her security measures, such as passwords, Auror, ghost and prefect patrol routes, and so forth unless directed to by law.
He didn't even hesitate on that one.
With the paperwork finished he was now a member of the Hogwarts faculty.
Right then was probably a good time to be a responsible adult and tackle the legal and financial challenges of trying to claim his entitlements as the heir to the Morrigan family. He really needed to get on top of that. Hire a surrogate to perform his duties in the Wizengomat and Hogwarts board of governors. It was either that or pull a Dumbledore and somehow manage to do all three full-time jobs at once.
Like hell!
But it was his last day of freedom, he had nobody in mind for either surrogate position and he simply didn't want to. So instead, he spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up and redecorating. Whoever said Harry Potter didn't have a feminine side obviously didn't know him.
Everyone seemed rather surprised to see him when he arrived for the welcoming feast. They looked at him as if he were a complete stranger who had somehow broken into the castle.
For a split second he wondered if he had hallucinated the entire morning or walked into yet another alternate universe—that was until Professor Santiago passed a handful of galleons to Remus.
Ah. They had expected him to get lost in the castle. It was a reasonable concern, he supposed.
"I take it the castle didn't give you any trouble on your way up or down from your classroom?" Albus greeted.
Harry took the open seat between Severus and Filius before answering.
"Well, I'm definitely getting my cardio in, and I'm sure my knees will pay the price if I do this job for very many years, but for now, Hogwarts is lovely," Harry answered honestly.
"The school hasn't got you with a trick step, trap door, or switching staircase yet?" Elvira asked suspiciously.
"No! Why would she do that? She likes me," he exclaimed, coming to Hogwarts' defense.
A few of his fellow teachers shared concerned looks, obviously fearing for his sanity.
"You speak of the school as if it is a person," scoffed Minerva, "as if it can talk."
"Well, talk is a bit of a stretch. I would say communicate. The castle can communicate," Harry said with certainty, "but yes. She most certainly is a person."
Dumbledore stepped in.
"I find it enlightening to start conversations like this by defining our terms," he said, "despite all speaking English, we sometimes find ourselves in situations where we are talking in completely different languages."
Harry refrained from elaborating on Albus' pointing out he was thinking of Epicurus, not himself, but decided against it as he didn't want to derail the conversation. His colleagues would either descend into the minutia of which ancient philosopher said which. Which would add nothing to the discussion.
"I get exactly what you mean. Personhood, I think, is a rather broad term that should encompass more than human beings," Harry elaborated, "centaurs, giants, house elves, and even trolls are certainly persons, though trolls might be a bit of a stretch."
His fellow teachers began to nod in agreement to his statement.
"But those are all flesh and blood and I would expand my definition even further. Ghosts and even portraits display all the characteristics of 'Personhood' as well, do they not?" he asked rhetorically to another round of nods, "and in muggle fiction, even machines of the far-off future can think, communicate ideas and desires, or have unique personalities. By this definition I argue Hogwarts is a person."
The nodding eventually stoppe
d as he began sharing topics most of his peers weren't familiar with.
"Hogwarts, the castle, can think, feel, express ideas, and has a personality?" clarified Remus.
"Absolutely! A place this flooded with magic? Having witnessed so much history, tragedy, and beauty? She was bound to become more than a mere construction of stone and mortar eventually," he explained.
He received frowns for that one.
"That was an explanation for how such a thing could have come to be true, not an argument that it is true," criticized Pamona.
Harry thought on that. Yeah, he had segued into a bit of a non-sequitur. He would have to be careful about making arguments properly around these people. They were, after all, teachers. They would not tolerate poor grammar, rhetoric, or logical fallacies; Intentional, or otherwise.
"If I may be so bold, may I make an argument for it myself? It seems like a fun topic to play devil's advocate for." Asked Filius.
Harry nodded.
"Evidence for the castle being capable of thought, emotion, and express ideas and a personality?" he hummed to himself, "well,
I would argue that the best evidence of that are the very trap doors and switching staircases we discussed earlier. They should merely be random, and though this could be chalked up to situational bias, the changes don't always feel particularly random, do they?"
Remus cut in.
"Sometimes the stairs only ever switch on you when you are in a rush, but most of the time the tricks of the school seem to be conspiring to get you into some kind of trouble," the werewolf observed, "and yet never too much trouble."
"In my experience," Minerva chimed in, "when the castle leads me on a trip I had not planned I find myself in a situation gone wildly out of control. Students fighting or lost or trapped or in some other manner it is obvious that I am needed there."
Harry had to resist the urge to nod. He wasn't from Hogwarts. He shouldn't hint at having those exact same experiences when he wasn't supposed to have never set foot there before, just that as a seer he knew the place itself was alive.
"So, the castle's personality, if we were to take this as a sign of sentient thought on the castle's part, is mischievous, but protective?" suggested Remus.
Wow. Completely missed the mark there, Remus.
"I don't think that's quite right," Severus countered, finally weighing in on the conversation, "it is a school, one intermittently meant to train warriors or well-adjusted adults. For that purpose, it does not want the students or faculty to die within its walls, but it does want to expose them to dangerous situations."
A bit closer to the mark, but a bit too pessimistic.
"So parental, but not babying." Minerva summarized, "I don't know. It does always seem more playful than it does resemble a mother falcon kicking its chick out of the nest to fly or die. I think we must be missing something."
It was then that Albus perked up.
"Wonderment," he explained in a word, hitting the nail on the head, "Hogwarts castle, above being a place of learning or safety, is a place of wonder. And her mischief-making is intended either to harden, educate, or—most importantly—expose the people in her walls to as many wonders as possible."
That about summed it up.
"Yes, I think that's right," agreed Remus, "the situations I landed in through little or no fault of my own, rare though they might have been, always led me to meeting the more interesting characters or places. To experiences that either hardened me, led to helping others, or simply inspired my imagination in ways that mere magic never could."
Harry's poker face broke as all around him everyone smiled and nodded in agreement. This was exactly the conclusion they had settled on in his original universe of how the castle conspired against her residents most of the time. If this was the caliber of conversation he could expect during mealtimes, then he was in good company to do what he loved: wasting mealtime away by discussing hypotheticals without committing to anything.
"I would very much like to have some pensieve parties with you all." Albus proposed, "and see if we could find any commonalities leading up to our wily adventures around the school. If we had done or said something to either offend the castle or make her think us deserving of reward leading up to any incidents."
(A-N 1)
That did sound like a fun time. Unfortunately, none of them would have the free time to all get together and do such a thing anytime soon. As if to beleaguer that point, the first students to have taken the carriages walked into the Great Hall.
"Perhaps during the holiday break," Filius amended, "it would help to settle if our experiences here can't be chalked up to randomness and coincidences. For now, perchance we should be more conscientious? Let us try and notice any patterns in how Hogwarts treats us."
"And determine if Mister Morrigan's claims are true," Added Minerva, as a second carriageful of students walked in and took their seats at the different tables.
From there the conversation died as most of the teachers waved hello to the returning students. Or in Snape's case, return stink eyes to those who weren't happy to see him returning. Harry imitated Remus in sitting up stoically as the curious eyes of children and teenagers judged their worthiness. He failed miserably at remaining expressionless when he expanded his senses to try and feel the vibrations of conversation like he had with Bella and Draco only to hear comments about "the hot new guy sitting next to Snape." He needed to stop eavesdropping, because now his old habit of slouching in on himself when getting attention returned and he didn't need the extrasensory abilities to hear the giggles of young girls from the nearest table at his expense.
Was he blushing? He might have been blushing.
"I recommend caution, Mister Morrigan," warned Severus, the gigglers drawing his attention, "little girls with crushes are quaint. Teenage ones are terrifying and, more importantly, dangerous. Take it from a potions master."
Whether the man was trying to screw with him in retaliation to the vicious oratory bitch-slap from that morning or giving him a fair warning, Harry didn't know, which was why he didn't respond with the many retorts amounting to "I sincerely doubt you have any experiences with students having crushers on you". That, and he knew for a fact it wasn't true. God, he had to wonder about girls like Pansy and Romilda sometimes.
When the Great Hall was so full of students that their conversations were loud enough to make it impossible for the young ones to listen in on their elders, the chatting between staff members resumed.
Filius started a conversation with Albus about a recent paper discussing a theoretic charm meant to redirect the opposite force produced against an object when acting upon another object so that all of the force was directed on that second object, thus undoing the third law of thermodynamics. It was a fancy way of saying you could hit a rock with a sledgehammer and the rock would be twice as damaged, but you'd feel no recoil. Pretty neat, but well above Harry's ability to follow along.
"So, Severus." Harry began to start a friendly conversation to make up for that morning.
Snape looked up from his daunting task of glaring down any student who looked his way.
"I heard of a potion that was rumored to exist but was never confirmed. And I wanted your opinion on if its effects are even possible," he began, trying to tempt the academic with new knowledge.
Severus raised an eyebrow, which Harry took as a sign that he could continue bothering the man.
"It was called Liars Heartstone (
AN-2). Supposedly, if you ingest the potion it makes you immune to Veritaserum," Harry explained, "with the catch being it stopped your heart dead if you were dosed with Veritaserum afterward. Reversible with palpitations combined with the antidote for Veritaserum, of course."
Snape blinked in confusion and seemed to suffer from a case of whiplash at the description. It was the kind of expression that said "what?!" more succinctly than words ever could.
"While I love the idea of a pre-emptive cyanide capsule in the event of interrogation," he began, and this time it was Harry's turn to blink and shake away a sudden case of whiplash, "I cannot think of a single combination of ingredients that would have that effect. The ingredients for Veritaserum itself affect brain chemistry—not anything that could affect hormones that increase or decrease the heart rate—and in fact has a soothing effect on the mind. I could probably come up with a potion that would have that effect if taken before a love or arousal potion, for what should be obvious reasons, but Veritaserum? Not a chance."
Harry smiled and nodded as the theories Severus was talking about went right over his head.
"Where did you hear of such an absurd potion?" Severus finally asked after failing to come up with a plausible answer to Harry's brain teaser.
"Town in Columbia," Harry admitted, "The small wizarding community there acted as a hub for the illegal movement of narcotics, animals, and human beings. They allegedly started making and taking the potion and were dying under questioning under Veritaserum, which disrupted authorities' efforts to end the trafficking. So, for years, Veritaserum was banned in interrogations."
Severus perked up and showed the rare sign of excitement.
"So, the potion is real? How does it work?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh, it was a complete farce," Harry admitted, "a farce that not only fooled the authorities into banning the use of Veritaserum and hamstrung their interdiction efforts but also tricked every lowlife criminal into buying and drinking the snake oil."
Severus blinked rapidly for a few seconds without speaking. Harry began to worry when he saw Snape's expression looked like he was in pain as his eyes watered slightly and his normally pale skin turned just a smidgeon red Until Harry realized Severus' face was straining against the laughter that threatened to spill out as he considered the hilarity of dozens if not hundreds of people being stymied by a fake potion.
Harry'd wanted to share that story with his original Snape for a long time. He had very nearly snuck away into the forbidden forest in order to retrieve the Resurrection Stone just to do so. He did eventually go back for it, but for very different reasons.
"But then how was it that the two wizards died?" Elvira, who sat on the opposite side of Snape, chimed in.
"They were both hand-picked to be fall guys with a history of heart problems and were both dosed by the same Auror. Or whatever magical law enforcement is called in the land of cocaine and caffeine. As you night have guessed, she didn't give them Veritaserum at all, but a small dose of chloroform laced with blue coral snake venom. Instant paralysis and heart attack," he explained, "thus, a years-long charade began."
Severus finally lost his battle and was forced to hide his laughter in his goblet by masking it as a coughing fit in need of water to cure.
Oh yeah. Harry had Snape's number.
"I believe it may be time to go meet the new students," said Minerva, excusing herself from the table, "I will return shortly."
She walked down the center aisle, past where the Sorting Hat and stool already sat, and strode through the large double doors.
Harry took this time to observe the excitable students who had filled the room almost to capacity. It took him mere moments to find the people he was looking for.
Ron, who was clearly not a prefect, sat near the end conspiring with Dean and Seamus in hushed tones about something or other. Probably rule-breaking or wartime information. He looked...softer, was the word that came to Harry's mind. Softer in this world than his own. It would seem that without Harry's influence, he hadn't become as much of a warrior at heart or in appearance. No giant chess pieces using you as a whiffle ball, Ron?
Hermione was a bit more difficult to spot, but there she was, hiding amongst the seventh years instead of the sixth. Her back hunched, her head in a book, and her person isolated from the other students. She seemed totally alone in the midst of the crowded table. Nobody talked to her. Nobody looked at her. Her posture and position at the Gryffindor table screamed "outcast", and it was a position Harry was familiar with.
Things did not seem well at Hogwarts.
He noted differences in other students as well. Neville looked much stronger in body, and he was disciplined in his posture. He wore his prefect's badge with pride. As did Fay Dunbar, a witch in his reality who had disappeared in fourth year after somehow taking her owls early. He heard she transferred back to a Muggle education but nobody knew for sure. Probably wise of the Muggleborn girl. In this world, she stuck around for some reason or another.
Draco was also much tamer than he remembered, not taking part in as much boisterous conversation with his classmates. Theo seemed to be the more energetic Slytherin of his year. There were other people in other years and houses he recognized. Both Patil sisters were in Ravenclaw, huddled with little Sue Li. He couldn't quite tell but Parvati looked less...girly. From a distance, she wasn't dressed up or make-upped like he remembered. Probably from not being so close to Lavender brown. Hanna and Susan were still fused at the shoulders in Hufflepuff, and there were many more new faces he hadn't known. Hogwarts had never been this crowded when he attended.
He would surely come to meet the new faces and learn the names to go with them soon enough.
His musings ended as Minerva returned with a litter of munchkins in tow, leaving Hagrid to sneak his way up to the head table where he joined them.
The hall went quiet as the scared eleven-year-olds stood at the center of attention before all eyes were on the sorting hat.
He began his song.
When young Godric hiked into the mountain brush thick,
He knew not what awaited him but marched on through soil slick.
He was joined by Rowena, who knew more than most,
the plants and beasts which the forest might host.
After weeks of trekking, who should they meet,
but the widow Helga who they found building a stone foundation at the mountain's feet.
The land of her deceased husband's held much promise, and forgotten to the ages,
so she was courted by Salazar, who sought to build a castle, a wizarding aegis.
Godric and Rowena made quick friends with these strangers,
and inspired by their plans and diligence, set aside their adventure in favor of these new labours.
And so the four, with magic and brawn, built a castle to glitter in the morning dawn.
To each they bestowed upon it's charter a different mission with which to barter.
For Slytherin sought safety and belonging in fellow followers of tradition,
he made the place a haven for their children, a sanctuary and beacon.
Helga knew naught but loneliness after leaving home for marriage and solitude again when plaque took that too away from her,
and so, she wanted a place of companionship, where meals and laughter of children could be heard.
Godric was a man of valor and sportsmanship, who wanted competition, rivalry and challenge in his daily life.
So made Hogwarts a place of hiking, boating, jousting and martial strife.
It was Rowena who helped them all achieve their mutual ideals, when she suggested they make a place that fulfilled all three, and a fourth to boot.
A place of learning, a school with no commute.
Huzzah! Her new friends and fiancé exclaimed. We shall make a school!
And so Hogwarts was born, but do not be a fool!
This is not merely a place of learning, but one of safety, kinship and self-mastery.
While you will be chosen to represent only one, fail to avail yourself of all four and you will live a life of slattery.
Harry joined in the standing ovation the hat earned for that one. As did the entire staff table and most of the older students. The hat had really outdone himself this time.
From there the new students were sorted into the four houses and Harry tuned it out, although he did gift little miss Rose Zeller and with a smile and a wave when she noticed him and clapped along when she was sorted into Hufflepuff. He did the same with the other first years he had fitted for wands under Garrick. God, but they were adorable. Shame he wouldn't be teaching any of them this year.
He came back around when Albus stood preparing for his speech.
"We have one more sorting to do this evening," he announced, "as is tradition, on the rare occasions we have a new member of faculty who never attended Hogwarts, we have the rare treat of seeing an adult wearing the sorting hat. Allow me to introduce your new divination teacher: Professor Hadrian Morrigan!"
Severus elbowed him to stand up and Harry felt his feet obey. He could smell Snape's amusement at his expense coming off of the man like a miasma.
Harry decided not to fight it and descended the steps from the head table down to the stool listening to much encouragement from students and staff alike as they egged him on. He sat down and gave Minerva a wink as she dropped the hat over his head.
Silence.
The hat did not speak for a time.
"You must know you are making my life rather difficult, Mister Potter," the hat whispered into his ear.
Harry grinned, and in the recesses of his mind spoke back.
"I know you can't share anything you learn from me. So, I opened it all up for you to see," he thought.
"Adults are difficult enough to sort without being flooded with so much information about an alternate universe. With maturity comes variety in thought and ideas. Equal suitableness to each house. You, more so than others."
Harry shrugged.
"Process of elimination then?" he offered.
"Hmm. Actually, I think I already have you pegged for Ravenclaw."
Harry blinked.
"I've, uh, never been the best student," he admitted, "and I don't know a lot about very many things. I don't have a mind for trivia."
He felt the hats' amusement.
"It is easiest to be fooled when one tries to fool themselves. You, who has walked through life seeking enlightenment by dipping your toe into every manner of career, field of study, and hobby, think yourself unknowledgeable? You, who has walked on every continent, built ties to political, criminal, military, and religious factions the world over, think yourself unworldly?"
Harry had to concede that point. And noticed the hat skipped right over his single-minded focus on mastering his...telemetry-like ability.
"That one goes without saying. Yes, mister Potter, you're perfectly studious. when you want to be. When you are interested in a task or find it enjoyable. Hard-working in it too, and certainly friendly enough. But your love of fellow people is outweighed by both your raw intelligence and bottomless ambition. But I honestly cannot decide whether to put you with Slytherin or Ravenclaw."
Harry almost panicked there. Being in Slytherin could lead to mistrust amongst students he needed to trust him.
"You are ambitious and cunning though, are you not? Playing the most powerful men in Britain like fiddles. Launching business and nonprofit campaigns. All with the end goal of saving the world," the hat reminded him.
Well yeah, but he didn't want everybody to know about that side of him. He'd prefer to be in Gryffindor so people would focus more on the traits of said house.
"Well, I have a policy when students ask me to put them in Gryffindor to hide their Slytherin traits. Do you know what I do to them?" the hat asked, rhetorically.
Harry shook his head.
"I put them in SLYTHERIN!" he announced the last word to the entire Great Hall.
Harry couldn't help laughing at the hat's humor and chuckled to himself all the while as Minerva removed the hat and let him make his way up to the staff table. He noted more subdued applause from most of the student body and knew he may have just lost a good bit of rapport amongst Gryffindors at the very least. But that would be easy enough to rebuild.
With that out of the way, Dumbledore announced the feast and the tables filled with food.
Harry helped himself to the myriad flavors of the chicken. Buffalo, barbecue, parmesan garlic, ranch, and regular old country fried. He'd been eating so healthy recently that he didn't realize he was craving some greasy goodness. As he dug in, he felt Filius nudge his side.
"Psst. Pass this to Severus and Elvira," Filius whispered as he surreptitiously passed him a coin purse under the table.
He did so without thinking and returned to his food before the implications dawned on him. He turned to Severus to see him splitting his winnings with Elvira.
"You bet on me being in Slytherin of all places?" he asked in disbelief.
"With that vicious tongue of yours? Are you kidding?" Elvira said conspiratorially.
"I had you pegged for one at first sight, to be honest," admitted Severus as he counted the sickles in his hand, "You reek of self-confidence, and though it pains me to admit it, competence. I knew you had to be one of ours."
Harry spent the rest of dinner stewing in his grumpiness at that. He would respond to any questions from Filius, Severus, Albus, or Elvira with a perfectly enunciated "Grumble grumble", between mouthfuls.
Dinner ended with Albus' usual start-of-term announcements. Banned items, forbidden forest, Auror guards, new defense teacher, new Divination teacher. Blah, blah, and blah.
There was a bit of not-quiet-enough discontent among the students about him taking on Sybil's old position. Harry noticed Lavender was one of them and guessed they really liked the old professor, but Severus broke him of that notion when he leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"Many students dropped the class because of your predecessor's... misbehavior. Some of the young ladies are regretting that decision now that she's being replaced by a young, handsome, mysterious outlander."
And this little piggy went "Grumble, grumble, grumble." all the way to bed.
Despite Snape's best attempt at making him dread the first day of class, he was quite looking forward to it. He was getting a mixed group of sixth and seventh years from all four houses, as there weren't enough students taking the class to split them up. And he was certain they'd make life easy for him.
And so, he changed into pajamas and crawled into bed, eager to learn the names of all of the students who hadn't existed in his timeline. He was always good with names, particularly when he had the map on hand to remind him what said names were.
Notes:
The original way he met the twins and their crew in the previous version was crap. I admitted that at the time, but I was trying to makeup for a plothole I overlooked. The map. This version is WAY better. I think you will all agree.
Also, slattery is a word. It means dirty* or untidy ness. It's where the word slut comes from, which didn't originally have sexual connotations. Hasn't been in use for half a millennia, but the sorting hat knows a lot of words not in common use anymore. Also, I REALLY want to write the story of Hogwarts founding based on this poem, but I have to finish all of these projects first.
(A/N-1)
I would invite you all to go back as well. Each time the castle seemed to lead people somewhere in the books.
(A/N-2)
Stolen shamelessly from the excellent fic, Renegade Cause by Silens Cursor. Aside from the ending.
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