Friday afternoon, 11 September 1942, in the artificery laboratories at Hogwarts Castle...

[discimus]

Will Goyle was always pleased to see Michaela Binns Pryce; her assistance had proven invaluable over the previous week, and she was in general a pleasant and intelligent person who did not fault him for being uneasy with small talk and social intricacies. “Mrs Pryce,” he said as she came into his office, making her way through the open laboratory where Miss Peverell was supervising the afternoon’s work. Will would vastly have preferred to be out there rather than working on drill and evacuation plans inside his office, but everyone had to make sacrifices for the war effort, and this was his. “I am sorry that you must leave us today.”

“I’m sorry too,” said Michaela. “There’s a lot to be done here still. Thank you for your help this week, it was very worrying to hear that Irma had uncovered one of the problems herself!”

“It was indeed,” Goyle agreed. Miss Pince was not at all the sort of person he would have pressed into service, given his choice; she didn’t have Michaela’s cool head or level temperament.

“As far as I can tell the latest version of the list of missing books is as close as we can come to accurate in any reasonable amount of time,” said Michaela. “I do hope that there aren’t some absences that are better hidden, but I also wouldn’t be surprised.”

Goyle nodded. “At the moment I’m more concerned about the house-elves.” He was still debating how best to remove Apollyon and Zenobia Pringle from their positions, replace them and get them into custody without taking the chance that Nobby would set the house-elves against them, particularly since the elves were bound to the school and its headmaster, not necessarily the Inquisition. Something had to be done before Sunday. Mrs Scalara’s charts had been quite clear on that.

“I suppose so,” said Michaela. “There’s no escaping the conclusion that they must have been intimately involved. And we’ve established that Ailise Kyteler is a familiar face to most of them.”

Goyle winced. “Yes.”

“May I have a seat?” Michaela asked. “I wouldn’t mind talking to you for a few minutes, if you have the time.”

“Be welcome,” said Goyle. “I cannot say I have much time, but I shall have to make what must be done fit into the time that I have.”

“Very well,” Michaela said, and took a seat. “Well. I told you my conversation with my grandfather was not very profitable, and he doesn’t appreciate the urgent need for an effective head of house. I personally think that he is quite ill. And so. This is awkward, but I would like to apply to be his replacement as Professor of History here, when the position is vacant, as I imagine it will be soon.”

“Indeed it shall,” said Goyle, who did not show the least bit of surprise. “It will take me a little longer to remove Dumbledore, which is vexing, because his replacement we already have. What about your other employment?” He had been given to understand that she had liked her job at Oxford-but maybe not. It must have been hard for her to live among Muggles as one of them. He admired it, the way he had admired Dracaena’s ability to pretend to be many things she was not. It wasn’t a talent he shared.

“I should have to resign from my position at Oxford, of course,” said Michaela. “I haven’t thought of what to tell them, but they probably wouldn’t be surprised if the need to care for an aging relative, for example, called me home. It is what they expect of women. As for my work for the War Bureau there, the Dux Bellorum writes that he would approve of my taking a position here.”

“May I see his letter?” Goyle inquired.

“I don’t think it is warded against you,” Michaela replied. When it came to War Bureau wards and seals, she found it almost impossible to tell. “The contents are not much more than I have just told you, here it is.”

“Thank you,” said Goyle, and looked it over briefly. “Well, it appears you have the one recommendation that counts most,” he continued, smiling. “This is a difficult question-forgive me-but if things do not continue as they have, can you work with van Rensselaer? He’s been invaluable, and I can think of at least one old lover of his he can’t work with. And there are other situations that have brought this point to mind of late.” Certainly working with Dracaena and Nicodemo was difficult for him now, though he wasn’t about to share that with anyone.

Michaela blushed a little, but they hadn’t taken enough care for her to be terribly surprised that Goyle had brought it up. “We have discussed that,” she said. “And I hope so, but you might want to inquire of him yourself. In the past, it has not been a particular problem for me. Old lovers, I mean.”

“Very well,” said Goyle. “I will deal with him, then, if it comes to that. You are perfectly welcome to the job. I have no desire to upset your grandfather, but the students are suffering and Ravenclaw has taken the worst of the troubles.”

“Well, thank you,” Michaela said, a bit unnerved despite herself at Goyle’s bluntness, despite how characteristic it was. “The other question then, is how best to deal with his welfare. I intend to speak with my parents in the coming week, or at least write to them. They’ve been anticipating his retirement at least. For some ten years at least.”

“That would be a good idea,” said Goyle. “It is customary for elderly staff members to be permitted to remain on the grounds if they so desire, but I think your grandfather would be better off living with people who will take better care of him, in a situation that is not so dangerous. We can hardly trust the elves to care for him, and the staff is already overburdened.”

“I am not sure, honestly, if he would really know the difference now between teaching and merely living here,” said Michaela. “I’m probably underestimating him, but it was a dreadful conversation. He needs more care, most likely, than anyone can give him here, leaving aside the danger.”

“Then he should by all means live somewhere else,” said Goyle with a frown. Binns was very bereaved-he missed his late wife terribly, and probably the only reason the incubus hadn’t taken advantage of that was that students had so much more life energy for it to steal. “This is a dangerous place for anyone who is having trouble of that nature.”

“Will my parents and I have time to settle things before you tell him?” Michaela asked hopefully. “Or we could, if that seems better.”

“I frankly think it is imperative to put someone else in charge of the House at once. I can certainly suspend History lessons for a week or two, or even allow him to go on teaching, as he can’t do much more harm than he already has in the classroom…but the only reason he is still in charge of the House at all is that Chattox is handling a lot of things for him.” Goyle sighed, because he knew that this would be difficult for her to hear-but she had to realise that it was probably true. “I am sorry.”

“If you must,” Michaela agreed, but she hurt for her grandfather’s pride. “I will speak to my parents as soon as possible, during the weekend if I can, and contact you Sunday. As for myself, I don’t think I could move here in less than a fortnight.”

“A fortnight…well, that’s quite understandable,” Goyle admitted reluctantly, “but things will be changing a lot between now and then. I certainly cannot allow your grandfather to retain the title of Head of House for a fortnight. Do you think you can get him to resign?”

“If his mood is like what it was the other night, no,” said Michaela. “Not without tricking him into it, which you understand I don’t want to do.”

“I do understand,” said Goyle. “Nobody wants to do that. I can offer him the choice of resigning or being dismissed, but since he has been in service here longer than I’ve been alive, I find it distasteful. Not, however, as distasteful as the thought that more of the Ravenclaw students may disappear or die.”

“You may have to then,” said Michaela. “I’m sorry, I really don’t think he is at all inclined to resign, and is offended by the suggestion even when put gently. Whether he will do it in preference to being dismissed, I can’t say.”

“As long as you understand this is not what I wanted to happen,” Goyle said, frowning. “I do not want you to resent me, Mrs Pryce, when we have worked together so well.”

“No, I completely understand why you need to do this,” Michaela said sadly. “Since I spoke to him as well.”

Goyle sighed. “I don’t think the history courses are being well-taught. You will have a difficult time of it, bringing them up to speed. There is an undue emphasis, I am told, on the goblin rebellions and related issues-understandable, given his family history, but not necessarily best for all of British wizardry. I am sure there was once a point to all this, but he cannot explain it, and only the Kyteler boy believes he has got it.”

“I’m not a specialist,” said Michaela. “Perhaps I should talk to Mr Kyteler and see what he thought the crucial themes were. But yes, I would have to redesign the curriculum, most likely.”

Goyle smiled at her gratefully. “Take copies of the relevant texts with you. I am sure we have several. It will be difficult if we have to change books, particularly for the Muggleborns, but we can place supplementary readings in reserve at the library.”

“I hope he’s at least assigned general texts to the lower classes,” said Michaela. “The NEWT students will have to work out of the library no matter what they’re taught.”

“I believe they’re general texts,” said Goyle. “They appear to be the same ones we used when we were in school. I’m not sure if that is a good thing, or not; there may not be anything more recent in English. I know he is not the author, who was long dead when I was in school, but he did edit the editions we used in my year, and if these are different, I can’t honestly tell how. And that is also what I have heard from the NEWT students.”

“I know them, they’ll suffice,” Michaela said, though with some disappointment. “In some future time where everyone doesn’t have more important work to do, a complete re-write could be done. And we really need to commission some translations into English or Latin, or school our students in the modern European languages. There’s significant work in Russian and…I’m sorry, this is a little too much for you, I’m sure.”

“Russian?” Goyle shrugged. Given that a lot of the best research came from Durmstrang, he supposed it might be true, but didn’t they all write in Latin there? “It’s difficult enough to get them all up to speed in Latin, Greek and Hebrew, and many of them never master more than what’s required for spell-casting. But I’m sure you know that. Most of the NEWT students know a great deal of Gobbledegook, or they don’t become NEWT students.”

“Yes, upperclassmen only,” Michaela replied. “Or possibly this is a project for the Avalon Institute, if the Dux is right about it being reopened as more than just a research and development facility.”

“That is what Dracaena wants,” said Goyle, with evident surprise. Apparently the Institute really mattered to her, and not just because Ercole had wanted a wizarding university in his homeland of last resort.

“Apparently,” Michaela replied. “I haven’t heard anything about it other than in that letter.”

“It’s one of the things that a lot of her people complain about,” said Goyle. “That there’s no higher education here.” He shrugged. “All right, let me know when you can start. I don’t have anyone else who can take those classes till then, and he may not be willing to continue teaching once I tell him Fletcher will be Head of his House.”

“I’ll write to you Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest, once I have had a chance to talk to people up at Oxford,” said Michaela. “And thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” said Goyle. All in all he wasn’t sure that dealing with Nobby Pringle might not be less painful than having to sack Binns-at least he had no sympathy for her.

truthinartifice and discimus