Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
SUMMARY - In which Hermione Granger receives an offer she can’t refuse and the reader is introduced to a Knight of Walpurgis.
Summer, 1994
(From the desk of Minerva McGonagall)
Dear Miss Granger:
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are enjoying your summer holidays. I would like to invite you and your parents to join me for tea this coming Sunday, as I have some matters concerning your education I would like to discuss with you.
The enclosed bottle-cap is a Portkey. This is a form of Wizarding travel with which you may not be familiar. At precisely 2:00 p.m. on Sunday, make sure that all three of you are touching the bottle-cap. I suggest you hold it in your palm while your mother and father each place one fingertip on it. The Portkey will bring you directly to my home in Hogsmeade. The procedure only takes a few seconds and is quite safe, painless.
If the date or time is not convenient for you, please send me an owl and we can make other arrangements. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
**
Hogsmeade - Home of Professor Minerva McGonagall
As the magic that held them dissipated, both Hermione Granger and her mother staggered. Professor McGonagall was there immediately, fussing and chivvying them into seats. It only took a moment for Hermione to recover her equilibrium and she looked around her eagerly. They were sitting in a small, sunny parlor with a bay window that looked out onto a charming garden. The chairs and sofa were covered in a bright, patterned fabric and the whole scene spoke of an almost idyllic domesticity. It was also, Hermione noted with amusement, completely Muggle. Were it not for the fact that Professor McGonagall was wearing robes rather than a Muggle dress, they could have been in any home in any rural village in Scotland.
“Hermione, Mrs. Granger – I’m so pleased you could come.” Professor McGonagall settled herself in a large armchair. Hermione and her mother were seated on the sofa facing her and between them was a low table that was practically groaning under the weight of a full silver tea set and several plates of delectable goodies that made Hermione’s mouth water. “I hope the journey didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
Seeing that her mother still looked a bit disoriented, Hermione spoke for them both. “It was...unusual. I think it may take me a while to get used to traveling that way.” Professor McGonagall nodded and began preparing three cups of tea.
“No one knows why, but all forms of travel in the magical world become much easier to manage when you learn how to Apparate. You will be taught Apparition during your sixth year and you will be able to test for your license any time after you turn seventeen.” After asking how they liked their tea, she handed the cups around and gestured towards the plates of baked goods. “Please, help yourselves.”
“I’m sorry my husband couldn’t join us.” Emma Granger said, still sounding a bit shaky. “One of his patients had an emergency.” Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The ‘emergency’ had been an invitation to play golf with one of the members of the very exclusive club that her parents had been trying to join for the past year.
“Of course. I do hope his patient is all right.” There was something about the expression on Professor McGonagall’s face that led Hermione to believe that she was fully aware of what Doctor Daniel Granger was really doing, but was too polite to say anything about it. Hermione helped herself to a delicious looking cream cake and ignored the glare her mother shot her.
“You said you had something to discuss with us?” Hermione looked at the smile on her mother’s face and decided that it was smile #17—the “You are important enough that I will listen to you politely but please hurry up and say what you need to say so that I can get back to talking to people who are more important than you” smile.
“Yes. Well, as I’m sure you know, Hermione is an exceptionally gifted student. She received marks of ‘Outstanding’ in all her classes last year.”
“Hermione has always excelled academically and I know she loves studying at Hogwarts.” Now, her mother was wearing Smile #5 – the “you’re complimenting my daughter’s brains, which pleases me, but I’d be more pleased if she were prettier, thinner, and more socially adept’ smile.
“Hermione, I do wonder whether you grasp the significance of this accomplishment.”
“Accomplishment?” Hermione was a bit thrown by this. “Surely, other people have gotten ‘O’s in all their classes before.”
“Yes, but you received top marks in eleven classes, whereas most students only take eight— nine at the most.” Professor McGonagall smiled at her. “Only three other students in the school’s history have accomplished the same feat and the last one left Hogwarts in 1816!”
“Really?” Hermione’s mother gave her smile #21 – the “You’ve done something I can brag about” smile. “Good for you, sweetie.”
“I....I.....” Hermione supposed she must look quite silly with her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging out of her head. “I didn’t realize....”
“We were all quite excited about it when we discussed your results during the final staff meeting. Even Professor Snape was moved to comment that he would consider you a model student were it not for your tendency to provide unauthorized assistance to some of your less gifted classmates.” The professor smirked as she took a sip of her tea. “Miss Granger, before I continue, I need your word that you will not repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone. That includes Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley.”
“Potter....? Weasley....?” Out came Smile #16 – “Politely Confused.”
“She means my friends Harry and Ron, Mum.” Hermione explained. “I won’t say anything, I promise.” She added, turning to Professor McGonagall and doing her best to look mature and responsible.
“Last week, Headmaster Dumbledore informed me that he intends to retire in five years’ time.” McGonagall gave her a stern glare. “I must stress that this information is not to leave this room. For the moment, the only other people who know are Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, and Octavia Ogden, the current head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. The Headmaster does not wish to make a public announcement yet.”
“I won’t say anything.” Hermione repeated, her mind reeling with shock. “But...why are you telling me?”
“I’ll come to that in a moment.” Professor McGonagall sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “When the Board of Governors approved my appointment as Deputy Headmistress, it was with the understanding that, upon Professor Dumbledore’s retirement or—Heaven forbid—his death, I should assume the position of Headmistress. Tradition dictates that an outgoing Headmaster gives his Deputy five years’ notice of his intention to leave, so that the transition of authority and responsibility can happen smoothly and without undue disruption to the school. Over the next five years, I will be assuming more and more of Professor Dumbledore’s duties, while passing those of the Deputy on to Professor Flitwick who will, I hope, be named Deputy Headmaster in due time. I will be stepping down as Head of Gryffindor at the end of this coming term and I will begin searching for a new Transfiguration teacher who will, I hope, be able to take up his or her position in two years’ time. I will also begin gradually implementing some of the changes that I would like to see happen at Hogwarts. That is the reason I’ve asked you here today. This year, I would like to bring back the Mentorship program. Are you familiar with it?”
Hermione thought for a moment, then shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid I’m not, Professor. I believe that the author of Hogwarts, a History referred to it several times, but he never described it in detail.”
“I’m not surprised.” Professor McGonagall shook her head sadly. “The program fell out of fashion in the early nineteenth century and, despite several well-intentioned efforts over the years, it has not been successfully re-integrated into our curriculum. I propose to once again attempt to revive the program and believe that I can make a success of it.”
“What does it involve?” Hermione asked, rather breathless.
“A member of the staff chooses an exceptional student and designs a course of independent study for him or her that incorporates, but also exceeds the regular NEWT level courses currently taught at Hogwarts. The materials the student is given to study are far more advanced than those given to his or her year-group, and the student is held to the highest standards of discipline, honor, and academic achievement.” Hermione couldn’t help it—she let out a low moan of pure desire. If the professor noticed it, she didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, her mother heard it and gave Hermione a sharp poke in the ribs, along with Frown #3 – “Act like a lady!”
“Normally, a Mentor chooses a student after he or she has taken the OWL exams, but I feel that you will benefit from an earlier start, don’t you?”
“Me?” Hermione squeaked. “Someone wants to mentor me?”
“Several someones, actually.” Professor McGonagall looked rather smug. “When I proposed the idea to the rest of the staff, Professors Flitwick, Vector, Babbling, and Hagrid all offered to serve as your Mentor. I, however, pulled rank.”
“You...you want to mentor me?” Hermione desperately wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but didn’t dare for fear that she was. Her mother was neither frowning nor smiling—she merely looked rather puzzled, as if she didn’t quite understand what was happening.
“You have an extraordinary mind, Miss Granger.” McGonagall’s expression softened and she offered Hermione a genuine smile. “More than that, you possess determination and self-discipline...both of which you will need to meet the challenges I and your other teachers intend to set for you. That is, if you’re willing. You may, of course, decline this offer, but if you do, please know that it might not be made again.”
“Are you joking?” Hermione blurted. “There is absolutely no way I would refuse such a fantastic opportunity! Where do I sign? What do I need to do? When can I start?”
“Hermione, manners!” Her mother snapped.
“Oh, it’s quite all right.” Though she was still smiling, Hermione could see a cold glint in the professor’s eyes as she turned to really look at Hermione’s mother. “As an educator, I can’t tell you how gratifying it is to have a student who is so enthusiastic about learning.”
“What does this Mentorship entail, exactly?” Emma Granger looked slightly suspicious, as if she thought Professor McGonagall had an improper interest in her daughter. Hermione sternly suppressed an almost hysterical giggle at the thought.
“It means that, from now on, I will personally direct Hermione’s studies—with input from her other teachers and from Hermione herself, of course. This will allow her to move at her own pace and to remain challenged, rather than having to sit through classes where she is already fluent in the material. We believe that Hermione will be more than ready to take her OWL exams in June—a full year early—and her NEWT exams next year. She will then be finished with her fifth year and can spend the remainder of her time at Hogwarts pursuing studies that are of interest to her and will be useful in her future career.”
“How will it all work?” Hermione asked, leaning forward eagerly.
“Well....” Professor McGonagall stood and walked to a small side table from which she picked up a slender green book and a stack of parchments. “You will no longer attend most of your classes with your year-mates. Instead, you will have individual tutorials with your professors once a week. We will give you assignments and expect you to work on them during the time you would normally be in class. It goes without saying that the assignments and projects we will be giving you will be far larger and more advanced than those you are accustomed to doing.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of Hermione being pulled out of class.” Emma gave the Deputy Headmistress Frown #12 – the “that isn’t socially acceptable” frown. “After all, we sent Hermione to Hogwarts so that she could meet and mingle with children from the magical world…”
“Hermione will still take a few classes with her year-group.” Professor McGonagall’s voice was reassuring, but Hermione could see a muscle twitching in her jaw. “And she will still have ample time to socialize with her friends.”
“But....” Hermione didn’t see Professor McGonagall move, but she felt the whisper of magic as it brushed past her and hit her mother. Emma Granger’s expression suddenly went blank. “I’m sorry, what was I saying?”
“Mrs. Granger, would you like to take a walk in my garden?” Professor McGonagall stood and gently took Hermione’s mother by the elbow, steering her towards the door,
Hermione heard her say “Hermione and I should be done with our discussion in a few minutes and then we’ll join you.” She sat in stunned silence as her mother was led out of the room. A moment later, Professor McGonagall returned and took her seat.
“I’m terribly sorry about that, Hermione.” She sighed. “I honestly thought your parents would be pleased to hear about this.”
“What did you do to her?” Hermione asked in a small voice.
“It’s a variation on a Confundus Charm.” Professor McGonagall sounded a bit weary. “She’ll be perfectly safe in my garden and she’ll find it fascinating until we go to fetch her.”
“But...she’s Muggle.” Hermione said, slowly. “Is that even legal?”
“Since she is the parent of a magical child, knows that I’m a witch, and willingly accepted an invitation into my home, it is. I don’t like having to do that, I assure you, but I was worried that her....concerns....might have a negative impact on our conversation. Since she has no real say in this matter, it seemed the kindest thing to let her enjoy herself while we talk.” Hermione nodded, slowly. While she was still slightly uncomfortable at the ease with which Professor McGonagall had altered her mother’s brain, she found that she couldn’t completely condemn her teacher’s actions.
“So, what happens now?” she asked.
“First, take this.” Professor McGonagall handed her the book. “It’s the handbook that Mentors used to give their new protégés back when the program was running regularly. While some of the rules are archaic or even obsolete, I recommend you read through it to get a better idea of what you can expect from me and what I and your other teachers will expect from you.” Hermione nodded.
“May I ask...” she began, hesitantly.
“Please do.”
“You said that the mentor usually chooses the student after the OWL exams....”
“And you want to know why we’re starting so early?” Professor McGonagall finished her thought. “Well, there are two reasons. First, your other teachers and I have been watching you closely for three years and, with a few exceptions, we feel you have already mastered material well beyond that taught to fourth year students. It seems cruel and wasteful to force you to sit through classes where you are already fluent in the material, simply because of your age. Second, I want to get us both accustomed to our new relationship before I take on too many new responsibilities.”
“That makes sense.” Hermione nodded, feeling a happy glow of smug satisfaction.
“As I began explaining before, I am withdrawing you from all your regular classes save for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. For your other subjects, you will attend weekly tutorial sessions with your professors—here is the schedule we’ve worked out.” She handed Hermione one of the sheets of parchment. Hermione scanned her new schedule and noted that she had one tutorial a week per class and that some took place in the evenings or on the weekends.
“September the first falls on a Friday this year and regular classes will not begin until Monday. However, your tutorial sessions will begin on Saturday morning---that will be Potions with Professor Snape. You and I will meet on Sunday afternoons and Wednesday evenings. I have compiled a list of all the texts you will need for this year as well as some additional supplies. This list includes all the books for fourth and fifth year classes as well as some others that your professors would like you to get.” Handing her another parchment, Professor McGonagall paused and gave a delicate cough. “Will this pose any...er...financial difficulties for you?”
“Oh no.” Hermione laughed. “My parents are very…generous with money for school supplies and they never know what to get me for my birthday or Christmas, so they usually just hand me a check with a ridiculously large number on it before I go to Diagon Alley. I usually don’t even spend half of what they give me.”
“And you will have no problems getting to Diagon Alley?”
“No.” Hermione shook her head. “Ginny Weasley has invited me to spend the last two weeks of the holidays at the Burrow and I’ll go shopping with her. Plus, I’ve got loads of Owl-order forms from Flourish and Blotts.”
“Good.” Professor McGonagall seemed to relax slightly.
“I’ll still be taking regular Defense and Care of Magical Creatures classes?” Hermione asked.
“Yes.” Professor McGonagall sighed. “The staff and I agree that your education in Defense Against the Dark Arts has been erratic and remarkably lacking in practical application. The standard fourth-year DADA curriculum usually focuses on learning basic shielding techniques and how to deflect and defend against low-to-mid level curses, hexes and jinxes. The new teacher Professor Dumbledore has hired is a former Auror and seems uniquely suited to teaching those skills, so I would like you to participate in his class. Unfortunately, Albus only managed to convince Alastor to sign a one-year contract, so we will need to re-assess the situation next year, depending on who fills the post.”
“And Care of Magical Creatures?”
Professor McGonagall gave an exasperated snort. “Hagrid has the best intentions, but he has all the common sense of a boiled egg! If you were to do a tutorial with him, he’d probably have you out in the Dark Forest at night trying to put a sweater on an Acromantula to keep it from catching a cold!” Hermione shuddered at the thought and decided that, perhaps, it was best she stay with the rest of her year for Hagrid’s class.
“What about History of Magic?” she asked, looking at the schedule. “I don’t see a tutorial with Professor Binns listed.”
“I’m afraid that I was unable to convince Professor Binns to alter his routine to accommodate you, so I will be taking over his lessons.” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in annoyance. “As I told you, we will meet twice a week. Our time on Wednesday evening will be devoted to Transfiguration, while our time on Sunday afternoon will be spent discussing History of Magic.” Hermione couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face.
“I do not believe that you will find the fourth and fifth year Transfiguration lessons a challenge.” Professor McGonagall continued. “You’ve clearly mastered the theory behind transfiguring static objects and turning living objects into non-living objects. In the fourth year, we focus on animation and switching spells. In fifth year, we begin to work on transfiguring one type of living thing into another. We also talk about the ethics of transfiguration and magic use in general. During our first tutorial session, I will test you to see how much of the practical material you will need to work on. The theory and ethics will be covered by your reading and our discussions. If it is at all possible, I’d like to start you on basic Conjuration in the spring. I should also add that Professor Flitwick and I plan to introduce wandless casting into your coursework this year.”
“Would....would it be possible for you to teach me to become an Animagus?” Hermione asked, hesitantly. She’d done some reading on the subject already and was desperate to learn more. Professor McGonagall looked startled, then enormously pleased.
“I’d be delighted.” She beamed. “Fair warning—while it is certainly a worthwhile endeavor, it is a very long, and often frustrating, process. It will require a great deal of patience and focus. It took me nearly two years before I was able to reliably shift my form and, from what I understand, I was a rather quick study.”
“I understand.” Hermione said, solemnly. McGonagall paused in thought for a moment.
“After the Christmas holidays, I will give you the first reading materials and exercises. I am going to insist, however, that you do not attempt any self-transfiguration without my supervision. It’s rather like Apparition—if you do not know what you are doing, you can seriously harm yourself.”
“All right.” Hermione agreed.
“As for History of Magic—to be quite frank, Professor Binns was teaching at Hogwarts long before the OWL and NEWT tests were developed. The exams were written to his curriculum, as were all the textbooks. If you read the books, you will have all the information you need to excel on the exams. I intend to spend those sessions developing skills and focusing on subjects that you wouldn’t otherwise learn at Hogwarts. Among other things, I want to begin teaching you about Wizarding society, culture and etiquette. My father was a Muggle, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.” Hermione was taken aback at the sudden change in topic.
“Yes, well, my mother was a Muggle-born witch who decided to leave the Wizarding world. She gave up her wand, married my father and would have happily lived out her life without ever hearing from the Wizarding world again except for the fact that I was born a witch. When I entered Hogwarts, I was like you and had no working knowledge of the magical world. Fortunately, I was blessed with good friends from old, established families. One of these invited me to spend several summers with her and I spent quite a lot of time learning from her, her mother, and her grandmother. By the time I left Hogwarts, I was fully prepared to enter the Wizarding world and my blood status and lack of a Wizarding family were not held against me because I walked, talked, and acted just like any other pure-blood witch. I plan to pass those lessons on to you.”
“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione said, quietly. She felt that she was finally beginning to grasp the enormity of the gift that Minerva McGonagall’s mentorship was going to be in her life and it awed her. “What happens after I take my NEWTs?” She asked.
“That is something you and I will spend some time discussing. The course of study you pursue after you take your exams will depend greatly on your career goals and the opportunities that become available to you. I have every reason to feel confident that you can finish your seventh year with a Mastery, if you wish. For now, however, I’d like you to focus on preparing for your OWL exams. We will have plenty of time to discuss what happens next after you take them.”
“All right.” Hermione did her best to suppress that part of her that wanted all the answers now. A thought flashed through her head and, silly as they sounded, the words were tumbling out of her mouth before she realized that she had begun to speak.
“Professor, what about the assignments we were given to do this summer?”
“As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, the laws restricting magic use by underage witches and wizards make it impossible for us to ask you to do any practical work over the summer.” Professor McGonagall replied. “The assignments we give you are primarily meant to help you review and retain the lessons you learned last year, but you are not meant to learn anything new. Once you’ve taken your OWLs, you can obtain a Probationary Magic License. This license allows older students to use magic while not at school, so that they can prepare for their NEWT exams. Once you have this license, we will be able to give you some more practical assignments rather than the busy-work you’ve got now.” She picked up a thick bunch of parchments that were tied with a ribbon and dropped it in Hermione’s lap.
“Your other professors and I know that you are more than capable of absorbing and understanding new material without us having to spoon-feed it to you. Therefore, we have all taken the liberty of compiling some reading assignments we would like you to complete before you return to school. I believe some of your other professors have also written notes of congratulations and descriptions of the course of study they intend to set for you.” It took all of Hermione’s self-control not to tear into the packet straightaway.
“This.” Professor McGonagall held up the final sheaf of parchment “is the official Mentorship contract. Please read through it and owl me if you have any questions. If everything agreeable, sign it and give it to me before the Welcoming Feast.” Her face became very serious. “This is a magically binding contract, Miss Granger. Do you understand what that means?”
“A bit…I think.” Hermione chewed her lip as she tried to remember everything she’d read about contracts in the wizarding world. “Signing it invokes a spell, like waving your wand and saying an incantation, right?”
“Very good.” Hermione took a moment to bask in her teacher’s approval. “The enchantment on the parchment ensures that everyone who signs the contract abides by its terms. There are rather severe consequences should either of us break one of the rules set forth in the contract. That is why it’s very important you read through this and ask any questions before you sign it.”
“Yes, Professor.” Hermione took the proffered contract and held it gingerly, as if it might explode in her hands. Professor McGonagall gave her a smile that was both sympathetic and amused.
“Do not worry, Miss Granger. It would take a very serious offense to constitute a breach of the contract. You do not need to worry about anything more serious than detention and lost House Points, should you be caught wandering the halls after curfew after having smuggled an illegal dragon out of the castle again.”
“You knew about that?” Hermione suspected she looked utterly ridiculous with her mouth hanging open.
“Not at the time, no.” Professor McGonagall admitted. “In the aftermath of that whole business with the Stone, however, Hagrid told Professor Dumbledore and myself about his ‘pet’ and about how you lot convinced him to send it to the dragon sanctuary in Romania. It didn’t take much to put the rest of it together, including the fact that Mr. Malfoy had somehow learned about your scheme and was attempting to thwart it when Mr. Filch caught you.” Hermione sat back in her chair, stunned and not knowing what to say to that. “My point is this, Hermione. The contract does not hold you to an impossibly high standard of discipline. Quite frankly, the only ways you could be in breach of it were if you failed most of your classes or got yourself expelled on disciplinary grounds. I find it impossible to conceive of you doing either. The contract is meant to protect you rather than to force you into a rigid set of standards and behaviors.”
“Protect me? From what?”
“The relationship between a Mentor and a student can develop into something very….powerful.” Professor McGonagall paused, obviously choosing her words carefully. “It is one built on trust, loyalty and respect. In many ways, it is like the relationship between a Master and his or her Apprentice in that regard. Unlike the Apprenticeship contract, however, the Mentorship contract contains clauses to protect the student from a Mentor who might wish to abuse that relationship. While such abuses can and do occur in Apprenticeships, those contracts do not offer the same protection because one must be of age to become an Apprentice and it is assumed that those who sign such contracts are able to protect themselves. The Mentorship contract also contains clauses that prevent outside parties from interfering with the relationship. Once the contract is signed, not even the Minister of Magic himself can break it.”
“I see.” Hermione stared at the parchment in her hands. She could feel the magic stirring within it and the sensation was a bit disturbing.
“Oh, before I forget,” Professor McGonagall went on in a businesslike manner “I have instructed Madam Pince to allow you unfettered access to the Restricted Section of the library. I should warn you that Irma is not particularly pleased with this arrangement, but I assured her that you will be extremely responsible.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Hermione suppressed a giggle. She knew perfectly well that Professor McGonagall was using this sudden shift in topic to distract—and possibly entice—her, but she didn’t mind in the least.
“Both Professor Flitwick and I will be assigning you practical work that is NEWT level and beyond. Some of the spells you will be learning are potentially dangerous and should not be attempted in an unwarded space. There is a chamber behind the statue of Bertha the Bald on the fourth floor across from the History of Magic classroom. We thought it would be a good place for you to practice. We’ve given the room the same level of protection that we give the other NEWT practice rooms, so you can work in there safely. We also thought it would make a good place for you to study and to keep your materials should you find the Gryffindor Common Room too distracting. This space is intended for you and you alone—please do not abuse our trust in this matter.” Professor McGonagall glared at her over the rim of her glasses. “To enter the classroom, tap Bertha’s head with your wand and say ‘rub-a-dub-dub’. Do you have any other questions?” Hermione thought for a moment then shook her head.
“I’m sure I’ll think of more after I read the contract and the book you gave me.” She said. McGonagall nodded.
“My door is always open to you, Hermione. That’s part of what being your Mentor means. I realize that we are going to be asking a great deal of you, but you should know that you are not alone in this. If you ever need help or someone to talk to—about anything, not just your schoolwork, please come to me. Also, if you begin to feel that the amount of work we are giving you is simply too much – say something. I do not want you working yourself into the state you did this past year because you’re too afraid to ask for help!”
“I will.” Hermione promised.
“God. Now, there is one other thing I’d like to discuss with you. It concerns Mr. Weasley.”
“Ron?” Hermione had to blink several times to clear the visions of books from her head, so she could focus on what the Professor was saying. “Is something wrong with him?”
“Not that I am aware.” Professor McGonagall gave her a wry smile. “No, I wish to speak about his schoolwork. Specifically, about the fact that you seem to have done more of it than he has.”
“But, I don’t....” McGonagall held up her hand to forestall the interruption.
“I am not accusing you of purposely allowing him to submit your work as his own. However, over the past two years, there have been periods of time—when you were in the hospital wing during your second year, and last year when the two of you were quarreling—when you were unable or unwilling to assist him. The difference in the quality of his work was quite noticeable. Mr. Weasley handed assignments in late and skipped some entirely, and the essays he did hand in were, to put it bluntly, mediocre. I compared notes with Professors Flitwick and Snape and we all noticed that Mr. Weasley demonstrates an inadequate understanding of theory and that there was a marked decrease in the quality of his spelling, punctuation, and sentence structure in the essays he wrote when you weren’t assisting him.”
“I’m sorry...” Hermione whispered, her bubble of euphoria suddenly punctured. “I’ll....”
“You’ll do nothing.” McGonagall said, sternly. “I do not mean to chastise either of you. I sincerely doubt that Mr. Weasley is being intentionally malicious or deceitful when he asks for assistance with his homework, but the amount of assistance you give him encourages some of his less virtuous character qualities. In short,” she said, frowning slightly “he is a rather lazy and unmotivated student and, on some level, he has figured out the trick of getting you to do the work for him. He is entering his fourth year, however, and it is high time he learned to do his own homework!”
“I’ll be much more careful.” Hermione sighed. “You’re right. Ron is a big boy and I shouldn’t have to be his personal homework planner.” She paused, as another unpleasant thought struck her. “Oh dear.”
“What is it?”
“I was just wondering how badly off Neville will be in Potions, if I’m not there to help him.” Hermione sighed. “He tries...he really does. He understands the concepts, I know he does, but he just can’t seem to master the practical aspects of brewing. Professor Snape makes him terribly nervous and he can’t seem to get the hang of some of the techniques....”
“Yes, I can see that will be an issue.” McGonagall pursed her lips. “It boggles my mind why you children never use the practice laboratories. I understand that the Slytherins can make life difficult for you....” Her voice trailed off as she saw the stunned look on Hermione’s face.
“There are practice labs?” Hermione whispered, her eyes round.
“That bloody man!” McGonagall was practically hissing. “Do you mean to tell me he never told you about the practice labs?” Hermione shook her head. “Ooooh, I am going to send him such a Howler.... He has spent the past eleven years complaining non-stop about now lazy and incompetent you lot are and yet he didn’t even bother to....” With a visible effort, she calmed herself. “I apologize for losing my temper, Miss Granger, and my language.”
“It’s all right, Professor.” Hermione gave her a weak smile. “To be fair, I don’t think he was just going after Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs don’t know about the labs either...I asked around during my first year. I don’t know about the Slytherins....”
“Rest assured, I will deal with the situation when I return to Hogwarts.” Professor McGonagall was breathing heavily and her nostrils were flared. “I will, of course, not mention that you were the one to bring this to my attention.”
“Thank you.” Hermione sighed with relief. “When we get back to school, I’ll drag Neville down to the labs and make him practice until he can brew things without melting his cauldron.”
“That...would be appreciated.”
**
An Unplottable Location in Bulgaria
Viktor Krum had grown up in the shadow of the Watch Tower. His paternal grandfather had been Knight-Constable of the Tower for nearly sixty years and his father had been a Knight until his untimely death. Several of Viktor’s uncles and cousins had held ranks in the Order of Walpurgis and Viktor had been given his star and shield on his twelfth birthday.
Still, in all that time, he had never once been inside the Tower itself. From the outside, the building was remarkably unimposing—round and squat, it looked like so many others that dotted the Bulgarian landscape. It had been built in a time when such structures were meant to provide shelter and defense, rather than aesthetic pleasure. Though time, the weather and the local flora had softened the Tower and given it an air of faded glory, it was still not the sort of place that was sought out by tourists. Muggle-repelling charms kept those few with a keen interest in such monuments away, and strong, Goblin-forged wards kept out any magicals who were not welcome, whether they be man or beast. As he was led across the weathered stone of the courtyard and in through the unassuming wooden door, Viktor was keenly aware of the fact that, had he not been specifically invited to enter, those wards would have reduced him to a pile of ash the instant he’d crossed them.
The inside of the tower was as different from the outside as it was possible to be. While the exterior of the Tower was all crumbling stone, covered in ivy and lichen, the inside was fastidiously neat. The floor was made of a polished dark marble and light emanated from globes that had been strategically placed on the walls so as to provide ample illumination without drawing undue attention to themselves. There were portraits of Knight-Commanders on every wall and, as he looked around, several of them nodded to Viktor and one even bowed.
The Squire touched his elbow deferentially and Viktor allowed the boy to lead him to a raised platform in the middle of the room. Once he was standing in its center, the Squire stepped off and placed his palm on a small pedestal. Viktor felt the familiar tug behind his navel as the platform moved through the Void.
When the platform came to a halt, Viktor blinked several times before slowly stepping down onto soft, green grass. All around him rose the almost-sheer walls of the mountains and he surmised that the platform must have taken him to one of the innumerable valleys hidden within.
“Ah, Knight-Captain Krum. You’ve arrived.” Viktor was smiling even before he turned around.
“Madam Ianevski.” He executed a formal bow then came forward to bow again over her hand. “You look as lovely as ever.”
“Stop it!” She gave him a mock glare and wagged her finger at him, laughing all the while. “You’re not going to make me blush, no matter how hard you try. I simply cannot allow it!”
“Cruel woman!” He struck a dramatic pose with his legs splayed and his hand over his heart, a tragic expression on his face. She laughed even louder and gave him a less than gentle slap on the shoulder.
“Come now.” She said. “I did not bring you here so we could flirt all night. There are great matters that must be attended to.” Sobering quickly, Victor nodded and followed her. As he always did, he marveled at how spry a woman of her age and seeming frailty could be. The platform had deposited him at what appeared to be one end of a long, gorge, but the rock-strewn path Madame Ianevski led him along soon led into a wide, open field redolent with the scents of grass and flowers.
A small fire had been built and was blazing away merrily, and a few light-globes hung in the air as if stuck there by some invisible hand. Three figures sat around the fire and it was there that Madame Ianevski led him.
“Ah, Knight-Commander Ianevski.” The troll did not bother to rise, but saluted the pair as they approached. “This is our newest Knight-Captain, I presume?”
“Knight-Captain Viktor Krum, may I present Watch-Commander Dorog, Chief Scholar Gaptooth, and Mystic Serafina.” Viktor offered formal bows to the troll, goblin, and centaur respectively.
“Well met, Knight-Captain.” The Chief Scholar said. “Thank you for joining us.”
“It is my honor.” Viktor replied.
“Sit.” Madame Ianevski pointed to a spot between Dorog and Serafina. “We have much to discuss and the night wears on.” Viktor refused to be seated until he had seen her settled—a move that earned a mock glare from his mentor and looks of approval from the others.
“Now that we are all comfortable...” Madame Ianevski rolled her eyes as she looked at Viktor. “Speak, Gaptooth.”
“We have learned that the Dark One has returned to England.” Gaptooth began, instantly dispelling the jovial atmosphere. “He has found a temporary host, but he seeks to regain full form and power. What is worse, he has managed to contact many of his old followers who are rendering him aid and comfort.”
“Dumbledore?” Dorog asked.
“He knows.” Gaptooth sighed. “Potions Master Snape told him everything— including that the Dark One intends to insert one of his own creatures into the castle to get at Harry Potter.”
“Will he allow it, do you think?” Madame Ianevski asked.
“Unknown.” Gaptooth shook his head. “I believe we should proceed as planned.”
“Very well.” Madame Ianevski sighed. “Knight-Captain Krum...we have a mission for you.”