Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady (1/4)
Title: Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady
Author: LilyAyl
Rating: PG
Beta: attempt-unique (thank you!!!)
Notes: The title is from 'People Get Ready' by The Frames. I was lost and without title, but my beta saved me with a song. This story is set within a universe I am sharing with whatifisaidno . For those who read the first drafts, this version is changed and better.
Warnings: None.
Summary: It is two years after the final battle at Hogwarts during which Voldemort was defeated. Hogwarts has been fully repaired, de-cursed, and rebuilt and everyone is looking forward to its re-opening in the fall. There is only one problem-- professors. This story is an AU that assumes everything before the epilogue happened, while everything from the epilogue onward does not necessarily occur.
People all get ready
'Cos we're tearing down the stand
Rebuild what's gone unsteady
And see it through with newer hands
~"People Get Ready" by The Frames
~
The Empty List
April 3rd, 2000
In the aftermath, Hogwarts was a bastion of hope, a sanctuary. Despite the needs of Diagon Alley and other areas in the Wizarding World, repairing Hogwarts had been the first and main project of the Greenies, the volunteers of all ages with their green sashes, cheerful teasing, bright songs, and ever-moving, ever-helping wands and hands. Students and parents who'd transferred overseas for the two years the repairs required all promised to return when the school gloriously re-opened. Headmistress McGonagall had all the letters to prove it. Everyone was counting on Hogwarts. If it was okay, then maybe the whole world would be one day, too.
Hogwarts, however, was not okay. Repairs, even with so many volunteers and donations, required funds. Professors required wages and could not handle two year long sabbaticals, even if they had no other options. Even Binns had finally moved on without students filling his classes and holding him in place. Professors were also needed, their expertise more than valuable for the re-building, the slow guiding of their jumbled world back to a safe place, to a home that was just beyond reach ahead and remembered a little differently by all. Unlike the students, they had not promised to return. Instead, their letters to McGonagall contained apologies.
I must regretfully resign. I have been offered a rare chance to...
...need me, but Minnie, these people need me more than any students can. Everyone is broken and if my charms can help repair that damage then...
...to write the book I cannot cloud my mind with students'...
...and with my injury I simply do not think that is possible anymore. I have told the Longbottom boy to see you.
Minerva was thankful for that last letter. At least Pomona had thought about what her absence would do and affect. She tried to recruit new professors, but the only ones interested in the salary, which was nearly half of what it used to be, and position were not people she trusted to be intelligent or able to teach young minds. She couldn't call-out for help. She couldn't let people know that Hogwarts was in danger of remaining closed, because people needed hope right then. Everyone needed something to believe in, especially with the world so changed. People believed in Hogwarts. That was Minerva's burden. She simply had to find a way to deal with it.
~
Herbology
April 7th, 2000
Neville arrived two minutes late for his meeting with the new Headmistress. When he reached her office, which was still by her classroom, not tucked away as Dumbledore's had been, her door was open and she was occupied with letters. She seemed as unaware of the time as he had been shortly before realizing he was late. Neville coughed gently and McGonagall looked up at him. She indicated a chair before her desk.
"Please sit, Mr. Longbottom. I trust Professor Sprout explained everything to you?"
"She did," he confirmed. Neville's gaze wandered over the room, the photographs of students, both living and deceased, along one wall, the blue prints, and bookshelves.
"And the salary?" Something in her tone-- a sense of defeat or an additional question-- pulled Neville's gaze to his former professor. He had never been as good a reader of people as he has been of plants, but he could see that she was worn. The past two years, and everything that came before them, have not treated her well.
"What is wrong?" he asked. He hated the part of him that grew eager now that he might something to do other than clean up messes, restock, and repair. He didn't want to be the sort of person who neglected their daisies in favor of tending their devil's snare; both were equally important.
She held his gaze for a long moment. He did not look away. She nodded and then handed him a sheet of paper. "This is the staff for this coming fall," she said.
Neville looked at the list. "What has happened?" he asked, his voice slow, wavering between anger and disbelief. "You can't open Hogwarts like this."
"A fact of which I am very aware, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville counted the number of empty positions.
Headmistress--- MM (G)
G Head of House--
R Head of House--
S Head of House--
H Head of House--
Transfiguration-- MM (G)
Astronomy--- A. Sinistra (R)
Arithmancy--- S. Vector (R)
Ancient Runes--
Potions--
DADA--
Magical History--
Muggle Studies--
Herbology--
CoMC--
Divination--
Charms--
"Why haven't you said anything?" he asked, quietly. Not even History had a name; he wondered what had happened to Professor Binns.
"People need Hogwarts to be strong. I did not think finding new staff would be so difficult." She sounded tired.
Neville wanted a better explanation. He had been part of the re-building effort for Hogwarts and had been looking forward to its reopening. She should have-- he stopped. This was not a hopeless situation-- he was well-acquainted with those. Neville looked back up McGonagall. She slouched just slightly over her papers. That cemented his decision. McGonagall had never had less than perfect posture in school. He could fix this. "I will find teachers for you," he said. "I can do it without drawing attention."
"I cannot ask you to do that, Mr. Longbottom."
"Professor Longbottom," he corrected her. As long as he was employed by the school, this was as much his problem as hers.
She smiled slightly then. "Professor," she said. "How will you find capable people who are willing to work for so little, without drawing attention?"
Neville tucked the list into his robes. "I'll ask people who can't refuse," he said. He already had one person in mind.
McGonagall removed her glasses and cleaned them with feline-like focus. When she put them back on, she looked more like the professor he remembered. "Even just a year would suffice. If nothing else, we can beg for professors from other schools for a year."
"No," he said. "That wouldn't be Hogwarts. The kids might as well stay away." He stood. "I should get started."
"Good luck, Professor Longbottom, and thank you."
He didn't tell her that it was nothing. He simply nodded and left, his mind already sorting out names. There was one he wished to ask no matter what, but before he could go to her, he had to find someone else.
~
Potions
April 2000
Neville knew of Lisa Turpin from his last year at Hogwarts. She had reluctantly followed Terry Boot to their meetings and had brewed potions for their injuries in a small lab that the Room gave her. He remembered her dislike for Hermione and her support for Snape. Even when everyone thought Snape was the enemy, Lisa refused to listen to anyone speak badly of him. Neville did not care much for Lisa and she had never tried to make friends, instead always making it clear that she was aligned with them because of Terry and Terry alone. Still, when Lisa had listed to him all the potions she knew how to brew as reason why she should control their potions lab, she had included Wolfsbane. So Neville looked for her.
Finding Lisa took effort. Unlike others, she had not thrown herself into the rebuilding. Instead she had disappeared. He found other Ravenclaws, though, and they led him to Mandy Brocklehurst, who took him the final step to Dartmoor and the Mirabilis Academy. Mirabilis, he learned, was both a Potions research foundation and a post-schooling academy. Those wishing to become a Master or a Mistress of the art, but could not find an apprenticeship, could go there and learn all they desired.
The academy clung to the high ground of Dartmoor, ghostly in the morning mist. Neville wandered in without impediment, since no one went to Mirabilis without reason. He found Lisa in the middle of breakfast, her toast untouched and plate shoved aside. Her far too long red hair was braided and bound up several times against her head. She was taking notes and did not notice him until the fourth time he said her name.
"Lisa Turpin?"
She looked up him, clearly disgruntled at having been disturbed. "Yes?" she asks. "Longbottom, isn't it?"
He sat down across from her. "I have a proposition for you," he said. She placed down her quill, which he took as a sign to keep talking. He outlined the problems and the position. He dangled his temptations-- Snape's former position, her own labs-- without discretion, because he has never liked the idea of manipulation, and waited. When she hesitated too long, he added, "Even if just for a year."
"My own labs?"
He got out the paper for her to sign. "Yes. I should add, we will likely need you to brew Wolfsbane every month. Can you do that?"
She snorted. "Of course." He handed her the paper and she signed. Neville left the premises, glad that it had gone as well as it had, and apparated closer to home. Now, he could get Lavender.
~
Ancient Runes
April 21st, 2000
Neville had not eaten at the Leaky Cauldron in the evening before. His gran had despised the establishment altogether and the Greenies often gathered there for lunch instead. A crowd of men in one corner were arguing loudly about the upcoming Quidditch game. The Magpies had just recruited or stolen Roger Davies, gaining a chance of winning. Hannah brought him the bottle of Ogden's he had ordered and Neville poured himself a drink. He was on his second glass when he heard his name.
"Neville Longbottom."
"Pansy Parkinson. What are you doing here?"
"Drowning my sorrows," she said, holding up a glass of a smoky amber liquid. She looked at the bottle in front of him. "From the looks of it you are doing much the same."
"Just go away, Parkinson." He was not in the mood for company, especially from an out-spoken Slytherin.
"I would, only there is no where else to sit. Apparently Ms. Abbot believes you can be trusted to behave and not hex me as some others would do." After the war, Pansy had become the media's favorite villain, less for her outburst at the final battle and more for her audacity in staying in wizarding London. Then, she even dared to live normally, rather than supply the papers with stories. This only drove the reporters to be more vile. She was blamed for everything from the lack of Slytherins at the final battle to invasion of Hogwarts the year before.
Neville rested his head in his hands. "Fine," he said. Pansy smoothed down her immaculate robes and sat.
"Now," Pansy said, sipping her drink. "I know why I am here. Being hated by the majority of the population does get rather wearing after a while. But what about yourself? What reason does a friend of the Golden Boy himself have to be drinking so heavily when it is barely the dinner hour?"
Neville thought about his rather disastrous meeting with Lavender. She had not taken too well to being offered a job to teach Divination. He'd known that her incident had changed her, but he'd not realized it had so-altered her opinions about Divination as well. He had not expected the changes to be so great.
"Do you know Lavender Brown?" he asked.
Pansy paused, her drink half-lifted to her lips. "We were friends before Hogwarts," Pansy said. She took a sip and replaced her drink on the table. "Our families still met for Christmas each year until World Cup fiasco. Why?"
Neville poured himself another glass. "What is Lavender good at? School-wise, I mean."
"How would I know? You were her Housemate, not me."
"Forget it." He rolled his glass around on its base and watched, frowning, as the liquid tipped and fell. He took a drink. He should have known better than to expect help from Pansy.
"Charms," Pansy said, suddenly. Neville looked up over the rim of his glass.
"What?"
"She always helped with the decorating by doing charms, I believe."
"Thank you," Neville said, surprised and pleased. He could work with Charms. That still left Divination open, however, as well as everything else on the list, besides Potions. What had possessed him to-- he stopped and looked up at Pansy. "What about you?" he asked. "What sorrows are you drowning?"
Pansy pouted at her glass. "Perhaps I have imbibed too much already, for I feel rather inclined to answer your question." She took another drink and put down the glass. "I am a fallen woman," she said. "My family's fortune is tied up in all those 'voluntary' donations for re-building, leaving me with only a fraction than to what I am accustomed. Even more than Malfoy, I am reviled because I dared to suggest that we try to save the majority by sacrificing a single student who had shown countless times previous that he could defend himself. I am outcast, a pariah, villain. Take your pick."
Neville stared at her, unable to believe the idea growing in his head. I'll ask people who can't refuse. "What was your best subject in school?" he asked.
If Pansy was surprised by the sudden change in topic, she did not show it. "Charms and Runes," she said.
Neville grinned, he could work with that. "How would you like a job?" he asked.
"A job," Pansy repeated flatly. "Longbottom, are you certain you are well?"
"Respect, Parkinson, and a little money, though not much."
"And what would this fantastic job be?"
"Professor of Ancient Runes at Hogwarts."
Pansy put down her glass and waved a hand for Hannah to come over. Hannah looked weary. "Is there a problem?" she asked.
"Two sobering potions," Pansy demanded.
"You don't think I'm serious," Neville said, still smiling.
Hannah glanced between them and sighed. "Two potions coming up." She stepped back and wove her through chairs and people to the front of the bar.
Neville frowned. "She didn't seem very happy."
Pansy waved her hand at the crowded tavern. "Would you be? Working here? Abbot is an artist; she is wasted here."
"How do you know that?" Neville asked.
Pansy looked down at her glass and hands. "I move in mysterious ways, Longbottom. Besides, Abbot is... forgiving."
Hannah returned with their draughts. Neville knocked his back and winced at the sudden rush of clarity. Immediately he wanted to curse himself for having offered a job to Pansy Parkinson of all people. He knew he had to hire from all four houses, but surely he could have found a better Slytherin than Pansy. Then again, her comments about Hannah intrigued him. Besides, he had a long list; maybe Pansy would know others in need of a place and respect.
Neville studied the woman across the table. She wasn't pretty, but she had a confidence and nonchalance that both made up for it and drove the papers crazy. He'd seen her arguing with Greenies at lunch before. The volunteers would often be red-faced and reaching for their wands, while Pansy would calmly take the next bite of her food. But she wasn't unaffected, he saw that now. She just kept control.
She was watching him now, waiting for him to retract his offer most like. Instead, he said, "So, will you teach?"
Pansy gave him a long, measuring stare. "Is Hogwarts really that desperate?" she asked.
"Yes." She could take his honesty as either a sharing of trust or an insult. From the quirk in her lips, he assumed she took it as both.
"Then, I accept."
Neville got out the paper for her to sign. Pansy looked over the many blanks and then back up at him. "What do you know of Adrian Pucey?"
"Nothing. Why?"
Pansy traced her finger over one of the positions. "He is not a Seer, but his understanding of Divination is very strong. He would also make a perfect Head of House."
"Would he agree?"
"If I ask him. Also, I notice that someone has finally gotten rid of old Binns?"
"Yeah. You know anyone who likes history?" Neville asked. He was shocked by how helpful she was being.
"Daphne Greengrass. History and her violin were the only things she ever cared for. She has been appalled lately at being expected to do anything more." Pansy handed the list back to him.
"Why are you helping me?" Neville asked.
She laughed. "You? Whoever said a word about helping you? If I am to work at this school, I require for it to be of highest quality, far surpassing the years we spent within its walls. Besides, Longbottom, I am a Slytherin, and Slytherins watch out for their own. I am helping my friends. Kindly do not forget."
"Understood." He pushed his bottle toward her. Alcohol had lost its appeal for the evening. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go."
Pansy accepted the almost-empty bottle with an amused smile. "I shall treasure it," she said.
Neville shook his head, uncertain how to reconcile her seeming humor and blasé comments about being hated with the hurt he'd noticed when she'd talked about Hannah's forgiveness or her sharpness when she'd reminded him that they were far from friends. "Talk to Pucey," he said.
Pansy nodded and Neville stood. As he paid Hannah, he noticed again the shadows under her eyes and the strain to her smile. "Parkinson said you're an artist."
Hannah's smile flickered with honesty for a moment. "She caught me sketching one night. She isn't the same person we knew in school."
"None of us are," Neville said. He took his change and left the tavern. He had managed to anger one potential teacher and ended up gaining another and possibly two more besides. Perhaps his task was not so impossible after all. Now he simply had to figure out a way to get Lavender to accept.
~
Divination
April 26th, 2000
Pansy Apparated to the basement of Adrian's building and rode the elevator up to his floor. She had to admit that the building was slightly nicer than the one she occupied, but the taint of Muggle kept her from ever considering moving. She knocked on his door.
She heard him move around and say her name as though it were a curse. "Adrian, dearest, I will be coming in. Either you unlock the door or I will."
Adrian opened the door. He looked dreadful. His hair had clearly not been washed yet that day and lips were in a flat line. Indifference did not suit him at all. "Pansy, what a lovely surprise. Come in," he said, flatly.
She smiled at him. "Why thank you, how kind of you to invite me in." She stepped over the threshhold and Adrian locked the door behind her. Pansy immediately began to look around the room. He still had photographs of him and that ungrateful Muggle displayed. "This isn't healthy," she said, indicating one.
"What do you want, Pansy?" he asked, slumping back against a wall.
"Hm?" She noticed a newspaper out on the coffee table covered in red circles and exes.
"Why are you here?" She found his rather blatant attempts to hurry her out of his apartment cute. Ever since the 'End of the World' party, he had been wary of her help and schemes, as if his unfortunate one night affair had been her fault.
"Job-hunting?" she asked, purposefully avoiding the question.
"A consequence of turning my back on my family was the sudden lack of money. I have bills. Now, answer my question."
Pansy dropped the newspaper. "Oh, Adrian, I am here to lift you from this squalor."
He raised one brow. "Squalor?" She followed his gaze around the apartment. She did suppose that the place was clean and well-maintained, but that did not mean it was the best environment for her clearly still-heartbroken friend.
"Yes," she said. "From this horrid nest of memories and mundanity you have tangled yourself up in."
"I thought you liked my apartment and all this 'mundanity.'" He walked around to his rack of DVDs and tapped the top case lightly. "In fact, I clearly recall you declaring a love for Muggle movies at one point."
"Yes, but then that Muggle of yours ruined it and now I am afraid I quite hate it all over again." She was lying, which she knew he'd know. Her first trip to a Muggle cinema had been a revelation; she still went regularly, immersing herself into the stories that Muggles so excelled in telling.
"Right."
Pansy sighed, tired of playing. What would it take for Adrian to realize that the Muggle world only made him happy when he was in love with a Muggle? "Adrian, you don't belong here. Tell me, do you still think Hogwarts needs a better Divination program?"
He was staring at her now, likely trying to understand what she was getting at. "Yes," he said, finally. "Of course, I do."
"Then design it."
"Excuse me?" He straightened up and his dark brow furrowed.
Pansy crossed the room and took both of Adrian's hands into her own. "Adrian Pucey, as a representative of Hogwarts, I hereby offer you the position of Divination Professor for the coming fall. Do you accept?"
"You mean it." She smiled at the awe in his voice.
"Of course. Wouldn't it be nice to rejoin the Wizarding world for more than just memorials and solstice parties, Adrian?"
"Yes."
"Do you accept?" He would say yes. He had to say yes.
"Yes." Pansy's smile broadened and she kissed his cheek. She dropped his hands.
"Good," she said. "You have rescued me from being surrounded by Gryffindors. Now, come with me. We must inform Longbottom."
"Longbottom?"
"Neville. He was in my year and is in charge of this whole enterprise. He's the one who hired me." Pansy followed Adrian into his bedroom. He started to dig through the back of his closet.
"For?" He pulled out a slim, wooden box. His wand. He had said that he had locked his wand away, but Pansy had never believed him. She had thought him too intelligent for such an idiotically Gryffindor grand gesture.
"Ancient Runes," she said, biting back her disbelief. "I've already started to search for a decent text. I remember the one we used in school was dreadfully dull."
"Most people would say that Runes is 'dreadfully dull,'" Adrian teased. He was smiling, the expression was truly the best for his features.
Pansy sniffed. "Well, most people are fools. Can you Apparate?"
"Yes, Pansy." He rolled his eyes. "Just because I put aside my wand for a while does not mean I have lost my magic or forgotten how to use it."
"Good. Go to the Leaky Cauldron. Abbot said that Longbottom has been taking most of his lunches there lately."
"Abbot?"
Pansy smiled, thinking of far-too patient Hufflepuff, her perpetually mussed honey hair and quiet sense of humor when her work had not been too horrid. "Hannah Abbot. Lovely girl. Brilliant with charcoal. See you there." She Apparated.
Pansy reappeared with barely a pop in the foyer of the Cauldron. The tavern was full with Greenies taking their lunches, making jokes and plans. Hannah was carting around a water pitcher that replenished itself from a water tank in the kitchens. The pitcher had to be heavy, but, of course, the Hufflepuff was not complaining.
Pansy heard a pop behind her. "Glad you could join me."
"Is he here?"
Pansy checked a clock. "He should be. I bet he is hiding toward the back. Follow me." Pansy wove her way through the jumble of tables, all of which were out-of-place since the Greenies couldn't bear to break up their work crews even to eat, and found Neville eating a sandwich. Pansy noted with surprise that a green sash hung from the back of Neville's chair.
"Longbottom," she said.
Neville looked up. "Parkinson," he said. He did not sound surprised at all.
"I suppose Abbot told you I would be dropping by?"
"She mentioned the possibility. This is?" Neville nodded toward Adrian.
"Adrian Pucey, your new Divination professor and Slytherin Head of House."
"Excuse me?" Adrian asked.
Pansy flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "Did I neglect to mention that?"
"You did." Pansy shrugged, unrepentent. He would have only refused.
Neville waved his hand at the empty chairs. "Sit," he said. "Why is he the Head of House?"
"I'm not," Adrian said.
"You are," Pansy corrected. "Longbottom, for Head of House you require someone who can relate to the students no matter their background, be disgustingly patient, and embody the best of the House characteristics, correct?"
Neville nodded.
"Then you want Adrian. He has lived in both the upper class Pureblood world and in Muggle London with his wand locked up." Pansy gave Adrian a sidelong look which she hoped would convey the fullness of her disapproval for that particular stunt. "He was a tutor during his Hogwarts years and is a perfect Slytherin. Besides, who else are you going to ask?"
"Is that true?" Neville asked Adrian.
"More or less."
"Then she is right, especially the bit about not having other options." Neville handed his paper over to Adrian. "Sign please."
Adrian looked over the paper and signed his name. Pansy tapped the second blank. Adrian rolled his eyes and signed in the Head of House blank as well. "This is a lot of blanks," he said.
"I know." Neville took back the paper and slipped it into a pocket.
Pansy leaned over and whispered to Neville. "Ask him if he wants you to stock up on teacups for his first class."
"Why?"
"Just do it." She wanted to see if Adrian still possessed his passion.
Neville sighed. "Would you like the school to stock teacups for you?" he asked.
"Teacups?" Adrian sneered. "Why would I require teacups?"
"Er, to read tea leaves in?" Neville suggested. Pansy held back an anticipatory grin.
Adrian shook his head. "This is the problem with the world," he said. "Everyone thinks Divination is just about telling the bleeding future."
"It isn't?"
"Of course not, or else, why would we have Seers? Divination is about answering questions and understanding the unknown. I wouldn't give students teacups until their 6th year at the earliest. First, they have to learn how to understand the world around them. Then, they can learn how to use tarot cards and other forms of divination to make decisions and answer questions about themselves. If you don't give them that basis, how are they supposed to tell the difference between the future and wishful thinking or pessimism? And, if a genuine Seer does come along, without this kind of foundation, how are they to decide what to do with their vision? Not all prophecies should be shared freely and students must learn that."
Pansy nudged Neville's arm. "Told you he'd be perfect."
Neville ate the last bite of his sandwich and took back the paper. "Good job," he said to Pansy. "Now, I will leave you two to enjoy your lunch. I have to get back to Mungo's."
"Healer?" Adrian asked.
Neville shook his head. "No, I work in their greenhouse and help stock supplies. Not the most glamorous of work, but we all must do our part." He stood and slipped his sash over his shoulder. "Good-bye."
After Neville left, Pansy asked Adrian what he thought.
"I thought he was more nervous," Adrian said.
Pansy shrugged. "I suppose he grew up, that does tend to happen on occasion. During our last year, he replaced Potter as the Leader of Goodness and Light."
"Was he good at it?" Adrian asked.
Pansy pursed her lips and thought. "He did not rule by force like Potter. Instead, people trusted him, even if they didn't trust everyone he worked with. People who had scorned Potter, joined Longbottom. He was willing to compromise on the little things. He united people, was capable, remembered the details, and didn't blame people for their families or past."
"Formidable."
"Unexpected," Pansy said, and she waved Hannah over to give her a break from the water pitcher to take their orders.
Part Two
Author: LilyAyl
Rating: PG
Beta: attempt-unique (thank you!!!)
Notes: The title is from 'People Get Ready' by The Frames. I was lost and without title, but my beta saved me with a song. This story is set within a universe I am sharing with whatifisaidno . For those who read the first drafts, this version is changed and better.
Warnings: None.
Summary: It is two years after the final battle at Hogwarts during which Voldemort was defeated. Hogwarts has been fully repaired, de-cursed, and rebuilt and everyone is looking forward to its re-opening in the fall. There is only one problem-- professors. This story is an AU that assumes everything before the epilogue happened, while everything from the epilogue onward does not necessarily occur.
People all get ready
'Cos we're tearing down the stand
Rebuild what's gone unsteady
And see it through with newer hands
~"People Get Ready" by The Frames
~
The Empty List
April 3rd, 2000
In the aftermath, Hogwarts was a bastion of hope, a sanctuary. Despite the needs of Diagon Alley and other areas in the Wizarding World, repairing Hogwarts had been the first and main project of the Greenies, the volunteers of all ages with their green sashes, cheerful teasing, bright songs, and ever-moving, ever-helping wands and hands. Students and parents who'd transferred overseas for the two years the repairs required all promised to return when the school gloriously re-opened. Headmistress McGonagall had all the letters to prove it. Everyone was counting on Hogwarts. If it was okay, then maybe the whole world would be one day, too.
Hogwarts, however, was not okay. Repairs, even with so many volunteers and donations, required funds. Professors required wages and could not handle two year long sabbaticals, even if they had no other options. Even Binns had finally moved on without students filling his classes and holding him in place. Professors were also needed, their expertise more than valuable for the re-building, the slow guiding of their jumbled world back to a safe place, to a home that was just beyond reach ahead and remembered a little differently by all. Unlike the students, they had not promised to return. Instead, their letters to McGonagall contained apologies.
I must regretfully resign. I have been offered a rare chance to...
...need me, but Minnie, these people need me more than any students can. Everyone is broken and if my charms can help repair that damage then...
...to write the book I cannot cloud my mind with students'...
...and with my injury I simply do not think that is possible anymore. I have told the Longbottom boy to see you.
Minerva was thankful for that last letter. At least Pomona had thought about what her absence would do and affect. She tried to recruit new professors, but the only ones interested in the salary, which was nearly half of what it used to be, and position were not people she trusted to be intelligent or able to teach young minds. She couldn't call-out for help. She couldn't let people know that Hogwarts was in danger of remaining closed, because people needed hope right then. Everyone needed something to believe in, especially with the world so changed. People believed in Hogwarts. That was Minerva's burden. She simply had to find a way to deal with it.
~
Herbology
April 7th, 2000
Neville arrived two minutes late for his meeting with the new Headmistress. When he reached her office, which was still by her classroom, not tucked away as Dumbledore's had been, her door was open and she was occupied with letters. She seemed as unaware of the time as he had been shortly before realizing he was late. Neville coughed gently and McGonagall looked up at him. She indicated a chair before her desk.
"Please sit, Mr. Longbottom. I trust Professor Sprout explained everything to you?"
"She did," he confirmed. Neville's gaze wandered over the room, the photographs of students, both living and deceased, along one wall, the blue prints, and bookshelves.
"And the salary?" Something in her tone-- a sense of defeat or an additional question-- pulled Neville's gaze to his former professor. He had never been as good a reader of people as he has been of plants, but he could see that she was worn. The past two years, and everything that came before them, have not treated her well.
"What is wrong?" he asked. He hated the part of him that grew eager now that he might something to do other than clean up messes, restock, and repair. He didn't want to be the sort of person who neglected their daisies in favor of tending their devil's snare; both were equally important.
She held his gaze for a long moment. He did not look away. She nodded and then handed him a sheet of paper. "This is the staff for this coming fall," she said.
Neville looked at the list. "What has happened?" he asked, his voice slow, wavering between anger and disbelief. "You can't open Hogwarts like this."
"A fact of which I am very aware, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville counted the number of empty positions.
Headmistress--- MM (G)
G Head of House--
R Head of House--
S Head of House--
H Head of House--
Transfiguration-- MM (G)
Astronomy--- A. Sinistra (R)
Arithmancy--- S. Vector (R)
Ancient Runes--
Potions--
DADA--
Magical History--
Muggle Studies--
Herbology--
CoMC--
Divination--
Charms--
"Why haven't you said anything?" he asked, quietly. Not even History had a name; he wondered what had happened to Professor Binns.
"People need Hogwarts to be strong. I did not think finding new staff would be so difficult." She sounded tired.
Neville wanted a better explanation. He had been part of the re-building effort for Hogwarts and had been looking forward to its reopening. She should have-- he stopped. This was not a hopeless situation-- he was well-acquainted with those. Neville looked back up McGonagall. She slouched just slightly over her papers. That cemented his decision. McGonagall had never had less than perfect posture in school. He could fix this. "I will find teachers for you," he said. "I can do it without drawing attention."
"I cannot ask you to do that, Mr. Longbottom."
"Professor Longbottom," he corrected her. As long as he was employed by the school, this was as much his problem as hers.
She smiled slightly then. "Professor," she said. "How will you find capable people who are willing to work for so little, without drawing attention?"
Neville tucked the list into his robes. "I'll ask people who can't refuse," he said. He already had one person in mind.
McGonagall removed her glasses and cleaned them with feline-like focus. When she put them back on, she looked more like the professor he remembered. "Even just a year would suffice. If nothing else, we can beg for professors from other schools for a year."
"No," he said. "That wouldn't be Hogwarts. The kids might as well stay away." He stood. "I should get started."
"Good luck, Professor Longbottom, and thank you."
He didn't tell her that it was nothing. He simply nodded and left, his mind already sorting out names. There was one he wished to ask no matter what, but before he could go to her, he had to find someone else.
~
Potions
April 2000
Neville knew of Lisa Turpin from his last year at Hogwarts. She had reluctantly followed Terry Boot to their meetings and had brewed potions for their injuries in a small lab that the Room gave her. He remembered her dislike for Hermione and her support for Snape. Even when everyone thought Snape was the enemy, Lisa refused to listen to anyone speak badly of him. Neville did not care much for Lisa and she had never tried to make friends, instead always making it clear that she was aligned with them because of Terry and Terry alone. Still, when Lisa had listed to him all the potions she knew how to brew as reason why she should control their potions lab, she had included Wolfsbane. So Neville looked for her.
Finding Lisa took effort. Unlike others, she had not thrown herself into the rebuilding. Instead she had disappeared. He found other Ravenclaws, though, and they led him to Mandy Brocklehurst, who took him the final step to Dartmoor and the Mirabilis Academy. Mirabilis, he learned, was both a Potions research foundation and a post-schooling academy. Those wishing to become a Master or a Mistress of the art, but could not find an apprenticeship, could go there and learn all they desired.
The academy clung to the high ground of Dartmoor, ghostly in the morning mist. Neville wandered in without impediment, since no one went to Mirabilis without reason. He found Lisa in the middle of breakfast, her toast untouched and plate shoved aside. Her far too long red hair was braided and bound up several times against her head. She was taking notes and did not notice him until the fourth time he said her name.
"Lisa Turpin?"
She looked up him, clearly disgruntled at having been disturbed. "Yes?" she asks. "Longbottom, isn't it?"
He sat down across from her. "I have a proposition for you," he said. She placed down her quill, which he took as a sign to keep talking. He outlined the problems and the position. He dangled his temptations-- Snape's former position, her own labs-- without discretion, because he has never liked the idea of manipulation, and waited. When she hesitated too long, he added, "Even if just for a year."
"My own labs?"
He got out the paper for her to sign. "Yes. I should add, we will likely need you to brew Wolfsbane every month. Can you do that?"
She snorted. "Of course." He handed her the paper and she signed. Neville left the premises, glad that it had gone as well as it had, and apparated closer to home. Now, he could get Lavender.
~
Ancient Runes
April 21st, 2000
Neville had not eaten at the Leaky Cauldron in the evening before. His gran had despised the establishment altogether and the Greenies often gathered there for lunch instead. A crowd of men in one corner were arguing loudly about the upcoming Quidditch game. The Magpies had just recruited or stolen Roger Davies, gaining a chance of winning. Hannah brought him the bottle of Ogden's he had ordered and Neville poured himself a drink. He was on his second glass when he heard his name.
"Neville Longbottom."
"Pansy Parkinson. What are you doing here?"
"Drowning my sorrows," she said, holding up a glass of a smoky amber liquid. She looked at the bottle in front of him. "From the looks of it you are doing much the same."
"Just go away, Parkinson." He was not in the mood for company, especially from an out-spoken Slytherin.
"I would, only there is no where else to sit. Apparently Ms. Abbot believes you can be trusted to behave and not hex me as some others would do." After the war, Pansy had become the media's favorite villain, less for her outburst at the final battle and more for her audacity in staying in wizarding London. Then, she even dared to live normally, rather than supply the papers with stories. This only drove the reporters to be more vile. She was blamed for everything from the lack of Slytherins at the final battle to invasion of Hogwarts the year before.
Neville rested his head in his hands. "Fine," he said. Pansy smoothed down her immaculate robes and sat.
"Now," Pansy said, sipping her drink. "I know why I am here. Being hated by the majority of the population does get rather wearing after a while. But what about yourself? What reason does a friend of the Golden Boy himself have to be drinking so heavily when it is barely the dinner hour?"
Neville thought about his rather disastrous meeting with Lavender. She had not taken too well to being offered a job to teach Divination. He'd known that her incident had changed her, but he'd not realized it had so-altered her opinions about Divination as well. He had not expected the changes to be so great.
"Do you know Lavender Brown?" he asked.
Pansy paused, her drink half-lifted to her lips. "We were friends before Hogwarts," Pansy said. She took a sip and replaced her drink on the table. "Our families still met for Christmas each year until World Cup fiasco. Why?"
Neville poured himself another glass. "What is Lavender good at? School-wise, I mean."
"How would I know? You were her Housemate, not me."
"Forget it." He rolled his glass around on its base and watched, frowning, as the liquid tipped and fell. He took a drink. He should have known better than to expect help from Pansy.
"Charms," Pansy said, suddenly. Neville looked up over the rim of his glass.
"What?"
"She always helped with the decorating by doing charms, I believe."
"Thank you," Neville said, surprised and pleased. He could work with Charms. That still left Divination open, however, as well as everything else on the list, besides Potions. What had possessed him to-- he stopped and looked up at Pansy. "What about you?" he asked. "What sorrows are you drowning?"
Pansy pouted at her glass. "Perhaps I have imbibed too much already, for I feel rather inclined to answer your question." She took another drink and put down the glass. "I am a fallen woman," she said. "My family's fortune is tied up in all those 'voluntary' donations for re-building, leaving me with only a fraction than to what I am accustomed. Even more than Malfoy, I am reviled because I dared to suggest that we try to save the majority by sacrificing a single student who had shown countless times previous that he could defend himself. I am outcast, a pariah, villain. Take your pick."
Neville stared at her, unable to believe the idea growing in his head. I'll ask people who can't refuse. "What was your best subject in school?" he asked.
If Pansy was surprised by the sudden change in topic, she did not show it. "Charms and Runes," she said.
Neville grinned, he could work with that. "How would you like a job?" he asked.
"A job," Pansy repeated flatly. "Longbottom, are you certain you are well?"
"Respect, Parkinson, and a little money, though not much."
"And what would this fantastic job be?"
"Professor of Ancient Runes at Hogwarts."
Pansy put down her glass and waved a hand for Hannah to come over. Hannah looked weary. "Is there a problem?" she asked.
"Two sobering potions," Pansy demanded.
"You don't think I'm serious," Neville said, still smiling.
Hannah glanced between them and sighed. "Two potions coming up." She stepped back and wove her through chairs and people to the front of the bar.
Neville frowned. "She didn't seem very happy."
Pansy waved her hand at the crowded tavern. "Would you be? Working here? Abbot is an artist; she is wasted here."
"How do you know that?" Neville asked.
Pansy looked down at her glass and hands. "I move in mysterious ways, Longbottom. Besides, Abbot is... forgiving."
Hannah returned with their draughts. Neville knocked his back and winced at the sudden rush of clarity. Immediately he wanted to curse himself for having offered a job to Pansy Parkinson of all people. He knew he had to hire from all four houses, but surely he could have found a better Slytherin than Pansy. Then again, her comments about Hannah intrigued him. Besides, he had a long list; maybe Pansy would know others in need of a place and respect.
Neville studied the woman across the table. She wasn't pretty, but she had a confidence and nonchalance that both made up for it and drove the papers crazy. He'd seen her arguing with Greenies at lunch before. The volunteers would often be red-faced and reaching for their wands, while Pansy would calmly take the next bite of her food. But she wasn't unaffected, he saw that now. She just kept control.
She was watching him now, waiting for him to retract his offer most like. Instead, he said, "So, will you teach?"
Pansy gave him a long, measuring stare. "Is Hogwarts really that desperate?" she asked.
"Yes." She could take his honesty as either a sharing of trust or an insult. From the quirk in her lips, he assumed she took it as both.
"Then, I accept."
Neville got out the paper for her to sign. Pansy looked over the many blanks and then back up at him. "What do you know of Adrian Pucey?"
"Nothing. Why?"
Pansy traced her finger over one of the positions. "He is not a Seer, but his understanding of Divination is very strong. He would also make a perfect Head of House."
"Would he agree?"
"If I ask him. Also, I notice that someone has finally gotten rid of old Binns?"
"Yeah. You know anyone who likes history?" Neville asked. He was shocked by how helpful she was being.
"Daphne Greengrass. History and her violin were the only things she ever cared for. She has been appalled lately at being expected to do anything more." Pansy handed the list back to him.
"Why are you helping me?" Neville asked.
She laughed. "You? Whoever said a word about helping you? If I am to work at this school, I require for it to be of highest quality, far surpassing the years we spent within its walls. Besides, Longbottom, I am a Slytherin, and Slytherins watch out for their own. I am helping my friends. Kindly do not forget."
"Understood." He pushed his bottle toward her. Alcohol had lost its appeal for the evening. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go."
Pansy accepted the almost-empty bottle with an amused smile. "I shall treasure it," she said.
Neville shook his head, uncertain how to reconcile her seeming humor and blasé comments about being hated with the hurt he'd noticed when she'd talked about Hannah's forgiveness or her sharpness when she'd reminded him that they were far from friends. "Talk to Pucey," he said.
Pansy nodded and Neville stood. As he paid Hannah, he noticed again the shadows under her eyes and the strain to her smile. "Parkinson said you're an artist."
Hannah's smile flickered with honesty for a moment. "She caught me sketching one night. She isn't the same person we knew in school."
"None of us are," Neville said. He took his change and left the tavern. He had managed to anger one potential teacher and ended up gaining another and possibly two more besides. Perhaps his task was not so impossible after all. Now he simply had to figure out a way to get Lavender to accept.
~
Divination
April 26th, 2000
Pansy Apparated to the basement of Adrian's building and rode the elevator up to his floor. She had to admit that the building was slightly nicer than the one she occupied, but the taint of Muggle kept her from ever considering moving. She knocked on his door.
She heard him move around and say her name as though it were a curse. "Adrian, dearest, I will be coming in. Either you unlock the door or I will."
Adrian opened the door. He looked dreadful. His hair had clearly not been washed yet that day and lips were in a flat line. Indifference did not suit him at all. "Pansy, what a lovely surprise. Come in," he said, flatly.
She smiled at him. "Why thank you, how kind of you to invite me in." She stepped over the threshhold and Adrian locked the door behind her. Pansy immediately began to look around the room. He still had photographs of him and that ungrateful Muggle displayed. "This isn't healthy," she said, indicating one.
"What do you want, Pansy?" he asked, slumping back against a wall.
"Hm?" She noticed a newspaper out on the coffee table covered in red circles and exes.
"Why are you here?" She found his rather blatant attempts to hurry her out of his apartment cute. Ever since the 'End of the World' party, he had been wary of her help and schemes, as if his unfortunate one night affair had been her fault.
"Job-hunting?" she asked, purposefully avoiding the question.
"A consequence of turning my back on my family was the sudden lack of money. I have bills. Now, answer my question."
Pansy dropped the newspaper. "Oh, Adrian, I am here to lift you from this squalor."
He raised one brow. "Squalor?" She followed his gaze around the apartment. She did suppose that the place was clean and well-maintained, but that did not mean it was the best environment for her clearly still-heartbroken friend.
"Yes," she said. "From this horrid nest of memories and mundanity you have tangled yourself up in."
"I thought you liked my apartment and all this 'mundanity.'" He walked around to his rack of DVDs and tapped the top case lightly. "In fact, I clearly recall you declaring a love for Muggle movies at one point."
"Yes, but then that Muggle of yours ruined it and now I am afraid I quite hate it all over again." She was lying, which she knew he'd know. Her first trip to a Muggle cinema had been a revelation; she still went regularly, immersing herself into the stories that Muggles so excelled in telling.
"Right."
Pansy sighed, tired of playing. What would it take for Adrian to realize that the Muggle world only made him happy when he was in love with a Muggle? "Adrian, you don't belong here. Tell me, do you still think Hogwarts needs a better Divination program?"
He was staring at her now, likely trying to understand what she was getting at. "Yes," he said, finally. "Of course, I do."
"Then design it."
"Excuse me?" He straightened up and his dark brow furrowed.
Pansy crossed the room and took both of Adrian's hands into her own. "Adrian Pucey, as a representative of Hogwarts, I hereby offer you the position of Divination Professor for the coming fall. Do you accept?"
"You mean it." She smiled at the awe in his voice.
"Of course. Wouldn't it be nice to rejoin the Wizarding world for more than just memorials and solstice parties, Adrian?"
"Yes."
"Do you accept?" He would say yes. He had to say yes.
"Yes." Pansy's smile broadened and she kissed his cheek. She dropped his hands.
"Good," she said. "You have rescued me from being surrounded by Gryffindors. Now, come with me. We must inform Longbottom."
"Longbottom?"
"Neville. He was in my year and is in charge of this whole enterprise. He's the one who hired me." Pansy followed Adrian into his bedroom. He started to dig through the back of his closet.
"For?" He pulled out a slim, wooden box. His wand. He had said that he had locked his wand away, but Pansy had never believed him. She had thought him too intelligent for such an idiotically Gryffindor grand gesture.
"Ancient Runes," she said, biting back her disbelief. "I've already started to search for a decent text. I remember the one we used in school was dreadfully dull."
"Most people would say that Runes is 'dreadfully dull,'" Adrian teased. He was smiling, the expression was truly the best for his features.
Pansy sniffed. "Well, most people are fools. Can you Apparate?"
"Yes, Pansy." He rolled his eyes. "Just because I put aside my wand for a while does not mean I have lost my magic or forgotten how to use it."
"Good. Go to the Leaky Cauldron. Abbot said that Longbottom has been taking most of his lunches there lately."
"Abbot?"
Pansy smiled, thinking of far-too patient Hufflepuff, her perpetually mussed honey hair and quiet sense of humor when her work had not been too horrid. "Hannah Abbot. Lovely girl. Brilliant with charcoal. See you there." She Apparated.
Pansy reappeared with barely a pop in the foyer of the Cauldron. The tavern was full with Greenies taking their lunches, making jokes and plans. Hannah was carting around a water pitcher that replenished itself from a water tank in the kitchens. The pitcher had to be heavy, but, of course, the Hufflepuff was not complaining.
Pansy heard a pop behind her. "Glad you could join me."
"Is he here?"
Pansy checked a clock. "He should be. I bet he is hiding toward the back. Follow me." Pansy wove her way through the jumble of tables, all of which were out-of-place since the Greenies couldn't bear to break up their work crews even to eat, and found Neville eating a sandwich. Pansy noted with surprise that a green sash hung from the back of Neville's chair.
"Longbottom," she said.
Neville looked up. "Parkinson," he said. He did not sound surprised at all.
"I suppose Abbot told you I would be dropping by?"
"She mentioned the possibility. This is?" Neville nodded toward Adrian.
"Adrian Pucey, your new Divination professor and Slytherin Head of House."
"Excuse me?" Adrian asked.
Pansy flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "Did I neglect to mention that?"
"You did." Pansy shrugged, unrepentent. He would have only refused.
Neville waved his hand at the empty chairs. "Sit," he said. "Why is he the Head of House?"
"I'm not," Adrian said.
"You are," Pansy corrected. "Longbottom, for Head of House you require someone who can relate to the students no matter their background, be disgustingly patient, and embody the best of the House characteristics, correct?"
Neville nodded.
"Then you want Adrian. He has lived in both the upper class Pureblood world and in Muggle London with his wand locked up." Pansy gave Adrian a sidelong look which she hoped would convey the fullness of her disapproval for that particular stunt. "He was a tutor during his Hogwarts years and is a perfect Slytherin. Besides, who else are you going to ask?"
"Is that true?" Neville asked Adrian.
"More or less."
"Then she is right, especially the bit about not having other options." Neville handed his paper over to Adrian. "Sign please."
Adrian looked over the paper and signed his name. Pansy tapped the second blank. Adrian rolled his eyes and signed in the Head of House blank as well. "This is a lot of blanks," he said.
"I know." Neville took back the paper and slipped it into a pocket.
Pansy leaned over and whispered to Neville. "Ask him if he wants you to stock up on teacups for his first class."
"Why?"
"Just do it." She wanted to see if Adrian still possessed his passion.
Neville sighed. "Would you like the school to stock teacups for you?" he asked.
"Teacups?" Adrian sneered. "Why would I require teacups?"
"Er, to read tea leaves in?" Neville suggested. Pansy held back an anticipatory grin.
Adrian shook his head. "This is the problem with the world," he said. "Everyone thinks Divination is just about telling the bleeding future."
"It isn't?"
"Of course not, or else, why would we have Seers? Divination is about answering questions and understanding the unknown. I wouldn't give students teacups until their 6th year at the earliest. First, they have to learn how to understand the world around them. Then, they can learn how to use tarot cards and other forms of divination to make decisions and answer questions about themselves. If you don't give them that basis, how are they supposed to tell the difference between the future and wishful thinking or pessimism? And, if a genuine Seer does come along, without this kind of foundation, how are they to decide what to do with their vision? Not all prophecies should be shared freely and students must learn that."
Pansy nudged Neville's arm. "Told you he'd be perfect."
Neville ate the last bite of his sandwich and took back the paper. "Good job," he said to Pansy. "Now, I will leave you two to enjoy your lunch. I have to get back to Mungo's."
"Healer?" Adrian asked.
Neville shook his head. "No, I work in their greenhouse and help stock supplies. Not the most glamorous of work, but we all must do our part." He stood and slipped his sash over his shoulder. "Good-bye."
After Neville left, Pansy asked Adrian what he thought.
"I thought he was more nervous," Adrian said.
Pansy shrugged. "I suppose he grew up, that does tend to happen on occasion. During our last year, he replaced Potter as the Leader of Goodness and Light."
"Was he good at it?" Adrian asked.
Pansy pursed her lips and thought. "He did not rule by force like Potter. Instead, people trusted him, even if they didn't trust everyone he worked with. People who had scorned Potter, joined Longbottom. He was willing to compromise on the little things. He united people, was capable, remembered the details, and didn't blame people for their families or past."
"Formidable."
"Unexpected," Pansy said, and she waved Hannah over to give her a break from the water pitcher to take their orders.
Part Two