Fic Rec: A Famous Victory by GMWWemyss
Good morning; it's me again with another rec from one of my favorite authors (who's sadly left the fandom over personal issues with some of JKR's stances and has recently removed all of his HP works off the 'net except for his fest fics here on LJ and some of his earlier works on FictionAlley. But if you want to read more in the universe this story is part of, contact me for PDFs!)
No angst or drama this time (nor sex, sadly), but rather an amusing glimpse into Our Boys' Life after Voldemort.
Title: A Famous Victory
Author: wemyss/Wemyss on Fictionalley
Rating: PG/PG-13
Word Count: ~7500
Warnings: From the author's notes: "May contain: Aurors, Senior Officers of; Blacks, formidable (see also Andromeda, Aunt); bureaucrats and functionaries, purblind; Civil (well, allegedly civil) Servants; descriptions, of scenery and place, rather less interminable than might be expected; docents and guides, appallingly perky; Headmaster, Deputy, bluff; Headmaster, subtle (see also, Headmaster, diminutive, and, Headmaster, wisely absent); Headmistress Emerita, no-nonsense; heroes, crafty; historians, revisionist; idiots, agenda-driven and bien-pensant, unsuspecting (see also, historians, revisionist); infighting, Ministry; Malfoys, vexing (see also, Malfoys, pointy, and Malfoys, elegant); Minister for Magic, slyly vengeful; nepotism, Ministry, failing (see also, Minister for Magic, slyly vengeful); poetry, English; poetry, Scots; postmodernism, exploded; quotations, ragbag of; scholars, vexed; subjectivism, hit for six; tape, red; truth, objective; Weasleys, innumerable."
Summary: Written for the 2013 Book Fair over at hd_fan_fair. In its infinite wisdom, the Ministry of Magic has decided to offer historical sightseeing tours of famous battle sites to the paying public; namely, Hogwarts. Not everyone is exactly delighted about this, and *some people* decide to Take Steps.
Why I loved it: I've been on guided tours like that. *grins, winks* A fun, slightly wacky take on what it would be like if two of our *cough*favorite*cough* minor canon characters try to capitalize on the Battle of Hogwarts. The story is part of a whole, mostly epilogue-compliant universe where Draco and Harry are both widowed and get together afterwards - so it's an established relationship that's mainly in the background. There are appearances by a slew of canon characters which are all wonderfully in-character … as you'll find out eventually.
(Also, there are puns. Be warned!)
Excerpt:
Dorabella Henrietta Margaret Susan Penniford had, Minerva recalled, been - so Young Neville, and Filius and Pomona and others of the Old Guard, had insisted - one of those Ravenclaws who had mistaken, and evidently yet did mistake, cleverness for wisdom. Had the chiel come through school, Minerva considered, when she had been Headmistress….
If nae mair, I'd ha' distillit the awfu' perkiness oot frae yon lass. She exchanged a glance with a like-minded Griselda Marchbanks.
'It's such a pity, Deputy Headmaster, that the Headmaster is abroad,' said Dorabella. Perkily. Minerva reflected upon the fact that the lass was own cousin both to Perks (aptly) and Vane (also aptly) - which, she rather thought, explained much.
'Aye, happen,' said Neville. Cautiously. Filius, he reflected, was a downy bird: one in whose sight the fowler's net was spread in vain. And everyone - well, anyone who was anyone - knew full well that, so soon as Hogwarts broke up for the Summer and the long vac., the diminutive duellist of old was off, blithe as a bird, to the Continent. Rumour had it that a series of contraltos in Vienna had enjoyed - very much enjoyed - his attentions over the years….
'But, there, at least you have the Headmistress Emerita to guide you. Now, speaking of guides -'
'One moment,' said Madam Marchbanks, dry as Beaune. 'It is perhaps a trifling and academic correction, but I should like the position to be put upon a perfectly clear footing. Minerva is here in the same capacity as impels me to attend this' (utter waste of time, thought Griselda) 'meeting, as she serves in her retirement as one of my examiners in the WEA. Go on, Mistress Pinafore.'
'It's Penniford, Madam Marchbanks.' The old lady's gaga, thought Dorabella, who had never once twigged to the disservice her parents had done her at her christening, in dowering her with those middle initials. 'Deputy Headmaster, the Opis -' Nev manfully stifled a snort - 'intend -'
'Owdonabit, lass,' said Neville. He had retreated into his protective affectation of a hard-bitten, flat-'at Northerner the moment he'd been confronted with a Ministry sort: the camouflage had served him in the past. 'Just tha hold on a bit. This high-handed scheduling of a fair bit of our grounds. Made partly, tha says, under the Protection of Auroral and Combat Remains Act 1814. Appears to me, sithee, 's summat - or someone - missing, from this footin'.'
'Deputy Headmaster, I really don't believe the Aurors want to be involved -'
The Floo roared, and a figure in Number Two Dress (Service Dress) Uniform, gongs up, with three pips and a crown on each shoulder, came through. He'd been promoted major before he'd finally learnt the knack of not stumbling out of the damned thing, but as a brigadier-legate of Aurors, he was by now impeccable.
'That, Pinafore, is where Nev and I both disagree. Minerva; Griselda.'
'Harry.'
'Right, let's get on with it. What are Oh Piss playing at now, Pinafore?'
'It's Penniford, actually. The Office of Public Information Services are trialling a programme of docent-guided tours of the newly designated battlefield -'
It had not taken a Trelawney to divine that Mistress Pinafore - Penniford, rather - was destined not to get through her statement uninterrupted.
'Tours? Of our battlefield?' Harry was sharp. 'I don't recall our having trained anyone for that.'
'Brigadier…. The Office have chosen and trained historical guides -'
'Civilians who were at their mothers' teats at the time, no doubt? Not a man jack of them to have served in the Royal Corps of Aurors, I'd wager? Now, just you tell those prize asses at Oh Piss -'
'Brigadier. Please. Please. If you care to make representations to the Office, you may do so, and I'm sure they'd be given the most thorough consideration.' Harry, unlike Nev, did not go in for repressing snorts and other vocables of dissent and disbelief. 'But we have trained our guides, and we shall be beginning these tours on Monday. It is only as a courtesy that Opis - that the Office are advising the invited attendees at this meeting.'
It was clear that Dorabella HMS Penniford had turned at bay. Her perkiness was gone out of her.
'I have it in command from the Deputy Undersecretary to the Minister and the Junior Assistant to the Minister, as ex officio head and deputy head of the Office of Public -'
'Typical,' said Harry. 'Smith and McLaggen. Sheer nepotism: the first ran like the coward he is, and the second, although contributing nothing, no doubt considers himself the true hero of the battle.'
'- I also,' said Dorabella, through clenched teeth, 'have been instructed to request that the tours be allowed also to take in the Great Hall, where you, Brigadier, slew You-Know-Who.'
'Bugger went by "Voldemort",' said Harry; 'actual name, Tom Riddle. And he managed to off himself. You needn't whisper the sod's name: he's quite dead. Mind, for brass-necked effrontery, he'd nothing on Oh Piss: askin' cooperation in this way after runnin' roughshod over everyone, it's 'straordinary. Nev? I don't care if you don't.'
'This is,' said Dorabella, 'why we wished to run the tours now. We are aware that Hogwarts is a school.'
'Doorbell,' said Harry, with savage affability, 'put a sock in it. You'll be doing yourself a favour.'
'If Harry doesn't object, school not being in term …' said Nev, slowly.
'Thank you, Deputy Headmaster. I am, truly, obliged. If there are no further questions, I really must return to the Ministry now. The guides and staff arrive at five past nine, Monday morning; the first tours commence at eleven.
'Madam Marchbanks; Headmistress Emerita; Deputy Headmaster. Brigadier.'
She Flooed out, in no small huff.
No angst or drama this time (nor sex, sadly), but rather an amusing glimpse into Our Boys' Life after Voldemort.
Title: A Famous Victory
Author: wemyss/Wemyss on Fictionalley
Rating: PG/PG-13
Word Count: ~7500
Warnings: From the author's notes: "May contain: Aurors, Senior Officers of; Blacks, formidable (see also Andromeda, Aunt); bureaucrats and functionaries, purblind; Civil (well, allegedly civil) Servants; descriptions, of scenery and place, rather less interminable than might be expected; docents and guides, appallingly perky; Headmaster, Deputy, bluff; Headmaster, subtle (see also, Headmaster, diminutive, and, Headmaster, wisely absent); Headmistress Emerita, no-nonsense; heroes, crafty; historians, revisionist; idiots, agenda-driven and bien-pensant, unsuspecting (see also, historians, revisionist); infighting, Ministry; Malfoys, vexing (see also, Malfoys, pointy, and Malfoys, elegant); Minister for Magic, slyly vengeful; nepotism, Ministry, failing (see also, Minister for Magic, slyly vengeful); poetry, English; poetry, Scots; postmodernism, exploded; quotations, ragbag of; scholars, vexed; subjectivism, hit for six; tape, red; truth, objective; Weasleys, innumerable."
Summary: Written for the 2013 Book Fair over at hd_fan_fair. In its infinite wisdom, the Ministry of Magic has decided to offer historical sightseeing tours of famous battle sites to the paying public; namely, Hogwarts. Not everyone is exactly delighted about this, and *some people* decide to Take Steps.
Why I loved it: I've been on guided tours like that. *grins, winks* A fun, slightly wacky take on what it would be like if two of our *cough*favorite*cough* minor canon characters try to capitalize on the Battle of Hogwarts. The story is part of a whole, mostly epilogue-compliant universe where Draco and Harry are both widowed and get together afterwards - so it's an established relationship that's mainly in the background. There are appearances by a slew of canon characters which are all wonderfully in-character … as you'll find out eventually.
(Also, there are puns. Be warned!)
Excerpt:
Dorabella Henrietta Margaret Susan Penniford had, Minerva recalled, been - so Young Neville, and Filius and Pomona and others of the Old Guard, had insisted - one of those Ravenclaws who had mistaken, and evidently yet did mistake, cleverness for wisdom. Had the chiel come through school, Minerva considered, when she had been Headmistress….
If nae mair, I'd ha' distillit the awfu' perkiness oot frae yon lass. She exchanged a glance with a like-minded Griselda Marchbanks.
'It's such a pity, Deputy Headmaster, that the Headmaster is abroad,' said Dorabella. Perkily. Minerva reflected upon the fact that the lass was own cousin both to Perks (aptly) and Vane (also aptly) - which, she rather thought, explained much.
'Aye, happen,' said Neville. Cautiously. Filius, he reflected, was a downy bird: one in whose sight the fowler's net was spread in vain. And everyone - well, anyone who was anyone - knew full well that, so soon as Hogwarts broke up for the Summer and the long vac., the diminutive duellist of old was off, blithe as a bird, to the Continent. Rumour had it that a series of contraltos in Vienna had enjoyed - very much enjoyed - his attentions over the years….
'But, there, at least you have the Headmistress Emerita to guide you. Now, speaking of guides -'
'One moment,' said Madam Marchbanks, dry as Beaune. 'It is perhaps a trifling and academic correction, but I should like the position to be put upon a perfectly clear footing. Minerva is here in the same capacity as impels me to attend this' (utter waste of time, thought Griselda) 'meeting, as she serves in her retirement as one of my examiners in the WEA. Go on, Mistress Pinafore.'
'It's Penniford, Madam Marchbanks.' The old lady's gaga, thought Dorabella, who had never once twigged to the disservice her parents had done her at her christening, in dowering her with those middle initials. 'Deputy Headmaster, the Opis -' Nev manfully stifled a snort - 'intend -'
'Owdonabit, lass,' said Neville. He had retreated into his protective affectation of a hard-bitten, flat-'at Northerner the moment he'd been confronted with a Ministry sort: the camouflage had served him in the past. 'Just tha hold on a bit. This high-handed scheduling of a fair bit of our grounds. Made partly, tha says, under the Protection of Auroral and Combat Remains Act 1814. Appears to me, sithee, 's summat - or someone - missing, from this footin'.'
'Deputy Headmaster, I really don't believe the Aurors want to be involved -'
The Floo roared, and a figure in Number Two Dress (Service Dress) Uniform, gongs up, with three pips and a crown on each shoulder, came through. He'd been promoted major before he'd finally learnt the knack of not stumbling out of the damned thing, but as a brigadier-legate of Aurors, he was by now impeccable.
'That, Pinafore, is where Nev and I both disagree. Minerva; Griselda.'
'Harry.'
'Right, let's get on with it. What are Oh Piss playing at now, Pinafore?'
'It's Penniford, actually. The Office of Public Information Services are trialling a programme of docent-guided tours of the newly designated battlefield -'
It had not taken a Trelawney to divine that Mistress Pinafore - Penniford, rather - was destined not to get through her statement uninterrupted.
'Tours? Of our battlefield?' Harry was sharp. 'I don't recall our having trained anyone for that.'
'Brigadier…. The Office have chosen and trained historical guides -'
'Civilians who were at their mothers' teats at the time, no doubt? Not a man jack of them to have served in the Royal Corps of Aurors, I'd wager? Now, just you tell those prize asses at Oh Piss -'
'Brigadier. Please. Please. If you care to make representations to the Office, you may do so, and I'm sure they'd be given the most thorough consideration.' Harry, unlike Nev, did not go in for repressing snorts and other vocables of dissent and disbelief. 'But we have trained our guides, and we shall be beginning these tours on Monday. It is only as a courtesy that Opis - that the Office are advising the invited attendees at this meeting.'
It was clear that Dorabella HMS Penniford had turned at bay. Her perkiness was gone out of her.
'I have it in command from the Deputy Undersecretary to the Minister and the Junior Assistant to the Minister, as ex officio head and deputy head of the Office of Public -'
'Typical,' said Harry. 'Smith and McLaggen. Sheer nepotism: the first ran like the coward he is, and the second, although contributing nothing, no doubt considers himself the true hero of the battle.'
'- I also,' said Dorabella, through clenched teeth, 'have been instructed to request that the tours be allowed also to take in the Great Hall, where you, Brigadier, slew You-Know-Who.'
'Bugger went by "Voldemort",' said Harry; 'actual name, Tom Riddle. And he managed to off himself. You needn't whisper the sod's name: he's quite dead. Mind, for brass-necked effrontery, he'd nothing on Oh Piss: askin' cooperation in this way after runnin' roughshod over everyone, it's 'straordinary. Nev? I don't care if you don't.'
'This is,' said Dorabella, 'why we wished to run the tours now. We are aware that Hogwarts is a school.'
'Doorbell,' said Harry, with savage affability, 'put a sock in it. You'll be doing yourself a favour.'
'If Harry doesn't object, school not being in term …' said Nev, slowly.
'Thank you, Deputy Headmaster. I am, truly, obliged. If there are no further questions, I really must return to the Ministry now. The guides and staff arrive at five past nine, Monday morning; the first tours commence at eleven.
'Madam Marchbanks; Headmistress Emerita; Deputy Headmaster. Brigadier.'
She Flooed out, in no small huff.