Hogwarts: Day One (Two Years Later Universe) (2/2)
Title: Hogwarts: Day One
Author: LilyAyl
Rating: G
Beta: attempt-unique (thank you!!!)
Summary: On September 1st, 2000 students arrive at Hogwarts for the first time in two years. Pansy is overseeing the students' arrivals when something goes wrong.
Notes: This story is part of the 'Two Years Later' universe that I share with whatifisaidno. If you have not read in this universe before, I recommend you begin with 'Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady'. There are also two one-shots, one set before this story and the other set after.
Warnings: None.
Part One
September 1st, 2000
Friday
By midday, Pansy was no closer to solving the mystery of her missing students. Longbottom's group, the last before lunch, had arrived with all students intact, but, considering that Longbottom's group was also all older students, Pansy did not think much of the success. Adrian and Jamison had returned right before lunch with tales of hostile neighbors and an empty house. Eventually they had discovered that Slurryhill's parents had taken her to relatives in Italy and Adrian was in the castle right at that moment charming old friends into allowing him to jump the queue on the international Floo.
For her part, Pansy was trying very hard to give the impression that nothing at all was amiss. The children enjoyed their picnic lunch, delighting over the cool pumpkin juice, sumptuous sandwiches with thick cuts of various meats and cheeses on rich slabs of dark bread, and chilled soups. Madame Hooch had brought out brooms and quaffles and the students were playing an odd variant of Quidditch with half of the players in the air and the other half running along the ground. A breeze flitted around playfully and made the day more bearable than the morning had threatened.
Pansy smiled, forced herself to smile, and tried to think. The consistency of the Muggleborn first years bothered her; it could not be coincidence, but she did not yet know the method by which the students had been contacted and secreted away. She was dissecting the morning once more when Neville interrupted her thinking.
"Parkinson," he said.
"What is it, Longbottom?" Pansy asked, irritated by the disruption.
Neville seemed utterly unaffected by her tone and Pansy realized, belatedly, that she had been spending far too much time in his company if he was immune to her distemper. "I have a student I think you should talk with. She was in my 9 a.m. group. First year. Her parents received a letter."
"A letter?" The possible schemes began to unfold in Pansy's head like spreading of butterfly wings. This was what she had been missing.
"Yes, telling them that Hogwarts was dangerous and not trustworthy."
Pansy leaned forward, her smile sharpening with anticipation. "And does the young student in question possess a copy of this letter?"
"She does."
"Bring her to me."
"I already have." Neville stepped aside to reveal a small girl composed entirely of lines and triangles from the angry arch for her brows to her painfully sharp shoulders and pointed shoes. This is Carrie Thorpe. Carrie, this Professor Parkinson, she is the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Please show her what you showed me."
The girl-- Miss Thorpe-- pulled a grubby envelope from the back pocket of her trousers. Pansy noticed with some distaste that her knees were scuffed with dirt. "M'mum said it was no bother t'them what the school wasn't or was. They didn't have no money t'send me overseas and they weren't going t'deal with m'magic acting up no more."
Pansy mentally translated the girl's swift spiel into proper English and accepted the envelope. "Thank you, Miss Thorpe," she said. She turned the envelope over in her hands, noting the stamp and address. She lifted the rather messily torn away flap and extracted the letter. She read it once, checked the envelope again, and read through it once more. The confusion, worrying, and frustration of her morning coalesced and cooled into a far more practical rage. She looked over the paper at the girl. "Do you mind if I keep this, Miss Thorpe?"
The girl shook her head. "Naw, that's why m'mum gave it to me anyway. I woulda got it to you sooner, but I forgot. There was so much t'see and eat. Food here is mighty delicious."
Pansy smiled wryly. Had she been less concerned about amazing the students, perhaps the young Miss Thorpe would not have been distracted from passing along the letter and the great mystery of the morning solved far sooner. "Thank you again, Miss Thorpe," she said. "Why don't you return to lunch now?"
The girl nodded, turned, and ran off. Pansy looked to Longbottom. "Did you read this?" she asked.
"I did."
"Get everyone," she said. "We must find a way to counter this spleen before we end up bereft of Muggleborns."
"All right." Neville took two steps back and then jogged over to where several of the professors were eating and talking. Pansy took advantage of the quiet moment to read over the letter again.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Thorpe,
My name is Bethany Highcastle and I was the mother of a young wizard. I am writing this letter to ensure that you don't make the same mistake I did. I lost my son because of Hogwarts and the wizarding world. I hope you and your daughter can avoid the same fate.
From that maudlin beginning the letter laid out a clever mix of facts and lies intended to twist the parents' affection for their child or children. Accounts of the war were braided with reports from the States and supported by frozen articles from the Prophet that had been copied into the letter by some kind of magic Pansy had not encountered before. Though the letter was handwritten, the letters were too uniform or perfect to be natural. She suspected a Quick-Quotes Quill, a regular tool for anyone wishing anonymity.
From a purely objective point-of-view, Pansy admired the letter. It was a work of art; if she were a Muggle parent, she would certainly question sending her child off to Hogwarts after reading it. This also comforted her; the only kidnappers involved were concerned parents, not some third party as she had feared. However, parents would also be less centralized than a third party and more difficult to overcome. Pansy folded the note and waited as the professors gathered. Adrian was still inside, unfortunately, and Vector was finishing preparations in the library for the mystery librarian McGonagall had hired to replaced Madame Pince.
"Have you figured out what's going on yet, Parkinson?" Thomas asked.
Pansy lifted the note. "Listen," she said. As she read the letter out loud, the people around her tensed. Brown, upon hearing the section about the dangers of werewolves at Hogwarts, shut down. Her limbs stilled and her face dropped into the vague stoicism of a doll. Hannah's stance widened; Pansy recognized the motion from when Hannah had worked at the Cauldron and was standing up against unruly patrons. Pansy noted all of the reactions; none seemed forced or false, for which she was quite glad. While seemingly genuine reactions were not enough to completely discount the possibility that a professor had been involved, they did slip the chance further down the list.
"What do we do?" Hannah asked.
"We have to find the parents and explain," Longbottom said. Pansy agreed that the families needed to be found and thought it rather cute that Longbottom thought a simple explanation would solve everything.
"Do you think they'll listen?" Brown clearly agreed with the futility of talk, though Pansy suspected for she did so for rather different reasons than Pansy.
"Memory charms?" Davies offered.
"And mire the school in all the legal difficulties that would result?" Pansy asked, stepping into the conversation before it could spin away and far from topic. "No, we will locate the families, but we will offer more than mere words."
"What did you have in mind?" Smith asked.
"Weekly updates of their children, monthly Floo calls-- staggered, of course--, and bimonthly visitations."
"Will Pureblood parents have the same options?" Smith asked.
"Yes. Brown, you, Turpin, and Thomas will visit the parents. Be frank. If you find another family has gone on holiday, contact us immediately." Pansy hoped that meeting Brown would allay fears about her lycanthropy. Thomas would add the Muggleborn perspective and Turpin's boyfriend, she'd learned, had recently followed the Charms Master he was studying under to the States. She should be able to answer some questions on that score.
Pansy waved her wand and wrote out a list of names in the air. "Please note your name and times," she said. "This is our new retrieval schedule." Pansy passed out the coordinates and provided Brown with a list of locations for the missing and anticipated as missing students. As the lunch time ended, the professors dispersed and Pansy returned to her station by the arrival area.
The rage that had cooled her earlier was now exciting her. Pansy knew she should be upset that someone had dared to meddle in her affairs, but too much time had passed since she had had a decent opponent beyond the newspapers. She'd never expected how greatly she would miss her school years until after the War ended.
Slytherin was not, as many of the other Houses suspected, a den of vice and evil. Students in Slytherin were born of ambition and used the House to forge connections, practice politics, and increase the sly nature and, often, loose ethics that the Sorting Hat had uncovered within them. To fuel ambition, they competed frequently. Some fought battles of strength and competency. Draco's guards were rarely bested in those regards. Others strove for ever-increasing subtlety in their magic. Daphne Greengrass, the ever strange and quiet, was never fooled by concealment or magic. She identified charms without effort and found people no matter how sneakily they hid. She claimed she heard everything, but Pansy was not sure if that was truth or story. Misdirection was one of the first lessons Slytherin imparted. Pansy missed the long conversations in which one person would describe a location, a room, a fortress, a hidden glen, and the others would try to breach it. Every attack would be parried and every parry routed. Of course that game had taken a rather different cast later on when Draco found the weakness in Hogwarts' protections.
The idea of a new contest with real stakes and a clever, unknown opponent thrilled Pansy. She sent off Brown, Turpin, and Thomas partially wanting them to succeed and partially wanting the Other to counter.
Smith arrived with the first group of post-lunch students. Then, Davies with his a half hour later. Davies had two students missing, which was one less than Pansy had anticipated. The one who arrived admitted to using the owl he'd bought in Diagon to find the closest witch or wizard, in his case, Nirav Patil, the father of the Patil twins, to talk with his parents. After several long discussions and another trip to the Wizarding World, his parents had agreed to let him attend. Pansy made a note to thank Mr. Patil later and let the boy go play with the other students.
Shortly after Davies returned, Adrian joined Pansy in the arrival area. He had the annoying smile on his face that he got whenever he knew something others did not.
"I thought you were going to the continent," Pansy said.
"Our new librarian will bring over Slurryhill when he arrives."
"You know who the librarian is," Pansy said.
The smile broadened. "I do. We had a rather nice conversation."
"Lovely. Has anyone told you about the letter yet?" Pansy knew he wanted her to ask more about the librarian and so she did not.
"Only that it exists."
"Indeed." Pansy outlined everything she had discovered during the lunch period and her plan.
"Have you run that scheme by McGonagall yet?" Adrian asked.
"I was rather hoping to present it fait accompli."
Adrian laughed under his breath. "Of course. She won't be happy."
"No," Pansy admitted, "but she is not culpable for what she does not know. If the Board of Governors protest, then only I will be blamed." Pansy felt disgustingly self-sacrificing for such a suggestion, but she knew that no other arrangement would work half so well. McGonagall was a king on the board for Hogwarts; she had to be protected. Pansy only wished she knew how many people she was playing against.
"You think they will?"
"Protest? Certainly. I am promising to allow students to contact Muggles via Floo. Either their homes will have to be connected to the Network or the Muggles will have to be taken to a fireplace that already is.
"So why make a promise you know they'll hate?"
"I want to see how they react."
"You suspect one of them?"
"Unlikely, but I should like to rule the possibility out. Besides, I believe that the Board will become a source of frustration in the future and it will be helpful to know where the members' loyalties and ideologies lie."
"Of course. Any ideas on who wrote the letter yet?"
"Some, none of them very pleasant." She pulled the empty envelope from her robes and passed it to Adrian. He waved his wand over the paper and cast a spell that would allow him to briefly see the magics laid over or that had been laid over the paper. All Arithmancy students learned it; Pansy had learned from Draco.
"Concealment and--"
"Confusion," Pansy finished for him. "I noticed those. Do you see anything else? I still cannot make my image very sharp."
Adrian cast the spell again and frowned. "That looks like--" he stopped. "Every Muggleborn received one of these letters?"
"They did. What did you see?"
"A mild compulsion charm, probably to make the letter more believable."
"An illegal charm, interesting. Do you notice anything else odd about the envelope?" Pansy asked.
"Looks pretty standard to me."
Pansy folded her arms. "Adrian, I do know you are more capable than this. A hint, whose standard?"
"Muggle, but I don't see how that makes a difference."
Pansy took back the enveloped and flipped it over so that she could see the stamp and address. She pressed her lips together. "Perhaps I am merely being paranoid again," she said, and she slipped the envelope back into her robes. "So, who is our mysterious librarian?"
Adrian grinned. "You'll see at dinner like everyone else. Now, what can I do to help?"
"Babysit. Greengrass and Jamison are playing with the children."
"Jamison?" Adrian asked, his voice slightly strangled.
Pansy raised her brows. "Is that a problem?" she asked.
Adrian glared. "No." He walked back to the Pitch.
"Adrian,
wait." Pansy stopped him. He clearly had no desire to be near Jamison and, while that information was interesting and Pansy certainly did wish to observe his behavior around Jamison, pushing Adrian toward the mysterious Caretaker would only result in a tetchy Adrian. She had too many other issues to resolve to create another one. "Actually, could you locate Thomas, Turpin, and Brown and inform them about the compulsion? That could aid their efforts, I'm sure."
Adrian nodded and Apparated. Pansy settled into her chair and waited for the next group to arrive. The rest of the day passed without incident.
By evening all students were safe and counted. Three had fled to the continent, but Adrian assured her that their librarian had all in tow. Others had been hidden in basements or with other relatives. Pansy's delegation had worked hard to locate each child and win their parents' support. The last three were those that had left the isles. When Pansy, standing with McGonagall and Madame Hooch to greet the new additions to their school, saw who the librarian was, she understood Adrian's smug amusement earlier that day. She, too, would have treated the man's identity as a most delicious secret. Viktor Krum was nothing if not unexpected. Pansy just hoped he could tend to books as well as he could fly.
"Thank you, Mr. Krum for bringing us the last of our wayward students," McGonagall said.
"It was no trouble," Krum said. "They haff promised to help me in the library."
"Have they now?" McGonagall said. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said to the students. "I am Professor McGonagall. I am your headmistress. This is Professor Parkinson, my deputy, and Madame Hooch, your flight inspector. Madame Hooch, would you mind escorting Mr. Krum and the students to the Great Hall?"
"Not at all. This way." Madame Hooch, Krum, and the three students left the office. McGonagall turned to Pansy.
"I hear you have been keeping secrets from me." McGonagall's face was neutral. Not for the first time, Pansy wondered how McGonagall had become a Gryffindor. She seemed far too sly and subtle for the House.
"I have."
"And?"
Pansy pulled the letter and envelope from her robes and gave them to McGonagall. "The parents of each of our Muggleborn first year students received a copy of this letter approximately one week ago. The envelope is layered with concealment, confusion, and compulsion charms. The letter is masterful and convincing enough that only a few of the students whose parents read this letter still made it to the portkey locations."
"I see. How did you convince the parents to allow their students to attend our school?" Pansy explained her plan involving the Floo and visits. Rather than the anger Pansy had expected, McGonagall seemed intrigued. "You will be doing this," she said once Pansy finished. "I do not know if you intended to follow through when you made the promises, but you will be doing so now."
"I always keep my promises," Pansy said.
"Good." McGongall tapped her finger against the edge of the envelope. "One last thing, Professor."
"Yes?"
"Are all of the letters addressed this way?" She held up the envelope as example.
"I believe so."
"Find out how they got the addresses."
Pansy's eyes widened and her estimation of McGonagall rose. "The only place with that sort of information is the student roster," she said. "How many copies of that are there?"
McGonagall's thin lips pressed together grimly. "Two. The one created by the Quill in my offices and the copy that I gave to you this summer."
"They must have used mine. If anyone finds out--," Pansy said.
"They will say the letters were yours."
"Yes." Pansy had reached this conclusion before she had even met with the other professors about the letter. At first she had blamed herself for being too willing to see monsters within shadows, a notion that Adrian had inadvertently confirmed, but now the Headmistress was suggesting the same. "I will oversee the visitations myself." The more she could divide herself from anti-Muggle sentiments the better.
"That may be best," she said. "As for the copied roster--"
"I will task Draco with recovering it," Pansy said. "If we've any luck, they will only have the names of the students they contacted."
"Luck, Professor? I did not realize that Slytherins believed in such a thing."
"We know it exists; we simply are not fond of it."
McGonagall smiled. "You know, Pro-- Pansy," she paused and Pansy nodded slightly, granting the permission to her given name. "I may actually enjoy working with you."
"Likewise, Headmistress."
"Minerva," McGonagall corrected. Pansy repeated her name. From someone as stately and old-fashioned as McGonagall, this was either a sign of friendship or respect. Pansy hoped the latter. She followed McGonagall out of the office; and, together, they descended the tower and entered the pandemonium of the Great Hall.
Author: LilyAyl
Rating: G
Beta: attempt-unique (thank you!!!)
Summary: On September 1st, 2000 students arrive at Hogwarts for the first time in two years. Pansy is overseeing the students' arrivals when something goes wrong.
Notes: This story is part of the 'Two Years Later' universe that I share with whatifisaidno. If you have not read in this universe before, I recommend you begin with 'Rebuild What's Gone Unsteady'. There are also two one-shots, one set before this story and the other set after.
Warnings: None.
Part One
September 1st, 2000
Friday
By midday, Pansy was no closer to solving the mystery of her missing students. Longbottom's group, the last before lunch, had arrived with all students intact, but, considering that Longbottom's group was also all older students, Pansy did not think much of the success. Adrian and Jamison had returned right before lunch with tales of hostile neighbors and an empty house. Eventually they had discovered that Slurryhill's parents had taken her to relatives in Italy and Adrian was in the castle right at that moment charming old friends into allowing him to jump the queue on the international Floo.
For her part, Pansy was trying very hard to give the impression that nothing at all was amiss. The children enjoyed their picnic lunch, delighting over the cool pumpkin juice, sumptuous sandwiches with thick cuts of various meats and cheeses on rich slabs of dark bread, and chilled soups. Madame Hooch had brought out brooms and quaffles and the students were playing an odd variant of Quidditch with half of the players in the air and the other half running along the ground. A breeze flitted around playfully and made the day more bearable than the morning had threatened.
Pansy smiled, forced herself to smile, and tried to think. The consistency of the Muggleborn first years bothered her; it could not be coincidence, but she did not yet know the method by which the students had been contacted and secreted away. She was dissecting the morning once more when Neville interrupted her thinking.
"Parkinson," he said.
"What is it, Longbottom?" Pansy asked, irritated by the disruption.
Neville seemed utterly unaffected by her tone and Pansy realized, belatedly, that she had been spending far too much time in his company if he was immune to her distemper. "I have a student I think you should talk with. She was in my 9 a.m. group. First year. Her parents received a letter."
"A letter?" The possible schemes began to unfold in Pansy's head like spreading of butterfly wings. This was what she had been missing.
"Yes, telling them that Hogwarts was dangerous and not trustworthy."
Pansy leaned forward, her smile sharpening with anticipation. "And does the young student in question possess a copy of this letter?"
"She does."
"Bring her to me."
"I already have." Neville stepped aside to reveal a small girl composed entirely of lines and triangles from the angry arch for her brows to her painfully sharp shoulders and pointed shoes. This is Carrie Thorpe. Carrie, this Professor Parkinson, she is the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Please show her what you showed me."
The girl-- Miss Thorpe-- pulled a grubby envelope from the back pocket of her trousers. Pansy noticed with some distaste that her knees were scuffed with dirt. "M'mum said it was no bother t'them what the school wasn't or was. They didn't have no money t'send me overseas and they weren't going t'deal with m'magic acting up no more."
Pansy mentally translated the girl's swift spiel into proper English and accepted the envelope. "Thank you, Miss Thorpe," she said. She turned the envelope over in her hands, noting the stamp and address. She lifted the rather messily torn away flap and extracted the letter. She read it once, checked the envelope again, and read through it once more. The confusion, worrying, and frustration of her morning coalesced and cooled into a far more practical rage. She looked over the paper at the girl. "Do you mind if I keep this, Miss Thorpe?"
The girl shook her head. "Naw, that's why m'mum gave it to me anyway. I woulda got it to you sooner, but I forgot. There was so much t'see and eat. Food here is mighty delicious."
Pansy smiled wryly. Had she been less concerned about amazing the students, perhaps the young Miss Thorpe would not have been distracted from passing along the letter and the great mystery of the morning solved far sooner. "Thank you again, Miss Thorpe," she said. "Why don't you return to lunch now?"
The girl nodded, turned, and ran off. Pansy looked to Longbottom. "Did you read this?" she asked.
"I did."
"Get everyone," she said. "We must find a way to counter this spleen before we end up bereft of Muggleborns."
"All right." Neville took two steps back and then jogged over to where several of the professors were eating and talking. Pansy took advantage of the quiet moment to read over the letter again.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Thorpe,
My name is Bethany Highcastle and I was the mother of a young wizard. I am writing this letter to ensure that you don't make the same mistake I did. I lost my son because of Hogwarts and the wizarding world. I hope you and your daughter can avoid the same fate.
From that maudlin beginning the letter laid out a clever mix of facts and lies intended to twist the parents' affection for their child or children. Accounts of the war were braided with reports from the States and supported by frozen articles from the Prophet that had been copied into the letter by some kind of magic Pansy had not encountered before. Though the letter was handwritten, the letters were too uniform or perfect to be natural. She suspected a Quick-Quotes Quill, a regular tool for anyone wishing anonymity.
From a purely objective point-of-view, Pansy admired the letter. It was a work of art; if she were a Muggle parent, she would certainly question sending her child off to Hogwarts after reading it. This also comforted her; the only kidnappers involved were concerned parents, not some third party as she had feared. However, parents would also be less centralized than a third party and more difficult to overcome. Pansy folded the note and waited as the professors gathered. Adrian was still inside, unfortunately, and Vector was finishing preparations in the library for the mystery librarian McGonagall had hired to replaced Madame Pince.
"Have you figured out what's going on yet, Parkinson?" Thomas asked.
Pansy lifted the note. "Listen," she said. As she read the letter out loud, the people around her tensed. Brown, upon hearing the section about the dangers of werewolves at Hogwarts, shut down. Her limbs stilled and her face dropped into the vague stoicism of a doll. Hannah's stance widened; Pansy recognized the motion from when Hannah had worked at the Cauldron and was standing up against unruly patrons. Pansy noted all of the reactions; none seemed forced or false, for which she was quite glad. While seemingly genuine reactions were not enough to completely discount the possibility that a professor had been involved, they did slip the chance further down the list.
"What do we do?" Hannah asked.
"We have to find the parents and explain," Longbottom said. Pansy agreed that the families needed to be found and thought it rather cute that Longbottom thought a simple explanation would solve everything.
"Do you think they'll listen?" Brown clearly agreed with the futility of talk, though Pansy suspected for she did so for rather different reasons than Pansy.
"Memory charms?" Davies offered.
"And mire the school in all the legal difficulties that would result?" Pansy asked, stepping into the conversation before it could spin away and far from topic. "No, we will locate the families, but we will offer more than mere words."
"What did you have in mind?" Smith asked.
"Weekly updates of their children, monthly Floo calls-- staggered, of course--, and bimonthly visitations."
"Will Pureblood parents have the same options?" Smith asked.
"Yes. Brown, you, Turpin, and Thomas will visit the parents. Be frank. If you find another family has gone on holiday, contact us immediately." Pansy hoped that meeting Brown would allay fears about her lycanthropy. Thomas would add the Muggleborn perspective and Turpin's boyfriend, she'd learned, had recently followed the Charms Master he was studying under to the States. She should be able to answer some questions on that score.
Pansy waved her wand and wrote out a list of names in the air. "Please note your name and times," she said. "This is our new retrieval schedule." Pansy passed out the coordinates and provided Brown with a list of locations for the missing and anticipated as missing students. As the lunch time ended, the professors dispersed and Pansy returned to her station by the arrival area.
The rage that had cooled her earlier was now exciting her. Pansy knew she should be upset that someone had dared to meddle in her affairs, but too much time had passed since she had had a decent opponent beyond the newspapers. She'd never expected how greatly she would miss her school years until after the War ended.
Slytherin was not, as many of the other Houses suspected, a den of vice and evil. Students in Slytherin were born of ambition and used the House to forge connections, practice politics, and increase the sly nature and, often, loose ethics that the Sorting Hat had uncovered within them. To fuel ambition, they competed frequently. Some fought battles of strength and competency. Draco's guards were rarely bested in those regards. Others strove for ever-increasing subtlety in their magic. Daphne Greengrass, the ever strange and quiet, was never fooled by concealment or magic. She identified charms without effort and found people no matter how sneakily they hid. She claimed she heard everything, but Pansy was not sure if that was truth or story. Misdirection was one of the first lessons Slytherin imparted. Pansy missed the long conversations in which one person would describe a location, a room, a fortress, a hidden glen, and the others would try to breach it. Every attack would be parried and every parry routed. Of course that game had taken a rather different cast later on when Draco found the weakness in Hogwarts' protections.
The idea of a new contest with real stakes and a clever, unknown opponent thrilled Pansy. She sent off Brown, Turpin, and Thomas partially wanting them to succeed and partially wanting the Other to counter.
Smith arrived with the first group of post-lunch students. Then, Davies with his a half hour later. Davies had two students missing, which was one less than Pansy had anticipated. The one who arrived admitted to using the owl he'd bought in Diagon to find the closest witch or wizard, in his case, Nirav Patil, the father of the Patil twins, to talk with his parents. After several long discussions and another trip to the Wizarding World, his parents had agreed to let him attend. Pansy made a note to thank Mr. Patil later and let the boy go play with the other students.
Shortly after Davies returned, Adrian joined Pansy in the arrival area. He had the annoying smile on his face that he got whenever he knew something others did not.
"I thought you were going to the continent," Pansy said.
"Our new librarian will bring over Slurryhill when he arrives."
"You know who the librarian is," Pansy said.
The smile broadened. "I do. We had a rather nice conversation."
"Lovely. Has anyone told you about the letter yet?" Pansy knew he wanted her to ask more about the librarian and so she did not.
"Only that it exists."
"Indeed." Pansy outlined everything she had discovered during the lunch period and her plan.
"Have you run that scheme by McGonagall yet?" Adrian asked.
"I was rather hoping to present it fait accompli."
Adrian laughed under his breath. "Of course. She won't be happy."
"No," Pansy admitted, "but she is not culpable for what she does not know. If the Board of Governors protest, then only I will be blamed." Pansy felt disgustingly self-sacrificing for such a suggestion, but she knew that no other arrangement would work half so well. McGonagall was a king on the board for Hogwarts; she had to be protected. Pansy only wished she knew how many people she was playing against.
"You think they will?"
"Protest? Certainly. I am promising to allow students to contact Muggles via Floo. Either their homes will have to be connected to the Network or the Muggles will have to be taken to a fireplace that already is.
"So why make a promise you know they'll hate?"
"I want to see how they react."
"You suspect one of them?"
"Unlikely, but I should like to rule the possibility out. Besides, I believe that the Board will become a source of frustration in the future and it will be helpful to know where the members' loyalties and ideologies lie."
"Of course. Any ideas on who wrote the letter yet?"
"Some, none of them very pleasant." She pulled the empty envelope from her robes and passed it to Adrian. He waved his wand over the paper and cast a spell that would allow him to briefly see the magics laid over or that had been laid over the paper. All Arithmancy students learned it; Pansy had learned from Draco.
"Concealment and--"
"Confusion," Pansy finished for him. "I noticed those. Do you see anything else? I still cannot make my image very sharp."
Adrian cast the spell again and frowned. "That looks like--" he stopped. "Every Muggleborn received one of these letters?"
"They did. What did you see?"
"A mild compulsion charm, probably to make the letter more believable."
"An illegal charm, interesting. Do you notice anything else odd about the envelope?" Pansy asked.
"Looks pretty standard to me."
Pansy folded her arms. "Adrian, I do know you are more capable than this. A hint, whose standard?"
"Muggle, but I don't see how that makes a difference."
Pansy took back the enveloped and flipped it over so that she could see the stamp and address. She pressed her lips together. "Perhaps I am merely being paranoid again," she said, and she slipped the envelope back into her robes. "So, who is our mysterious librarian?"
Adrian grinned. "You'll see at dinner like everyone else. Now, what can I do to help?"
"Babysit. Greengrass and Jamison are playing with the children."
"Jamison?" Adrian asked, his voice slightly strangled.
Pansy raised her brows. "Is that a problem?" she asked.
Adrian glared. "No." He walked back to the Pitch.
"Adrian,
wait." Pansy stopped him. He clearly had no desire to be near Jamison and, while that information was interesting and Pansy certainly did wish to observe his behavior around Jamison, pushing Adrian toward the mysterious Caretaker would only result in a tetchy Adrian. She had too many other issues to resolve to create another one. "Actually, could you locate Thomas, Turpin, and Brown and inform them about the compulsion? That could aid their efforts, I'm sure."
Adrian nodded and Apparated. Pansy settled into her chair and waited for the next group to arrive. The rest of the day passed without incident.
By evening all students were safe and counted. Three had fled to the continent, but Adrian assured her that their librarian had all in tow. Others had been hidden in basements or with other relatives. Pansy's delegation had worked hard to locate each child and win their parents' support. The last three were those that had left the isles. When Pansy, standing with McGonagall and Madame Hooch to greet the new additions to their school, saw who the librarian was, she understood Adrian's smug amusement earlier that day. She, too, would have treated the man's identity as a most delicious secret. Viktor Krum was nothing if not unexpected. Pansy just hoped he could tend to books as well as he could fly.
"Thank you, Mr. Krum for bringing us the last of our wayward students," McGonagall said.
"It was no trouble," Krum said. "They haff promised to help me in the library."
"Have they now?" McGonagall said. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said to the students. "I am Professor McGonagall. I am your headmistress. This is Professor Parkinson, my deputy, and Madame Hooch, your flight inspector. Madame Hooch, would you mind escorting Mr. Krum and the students to the Great Hall?"
"Not at all. This way." Madame Hooch, Krum, and the three students left the office. McGonagall turned to Pansy.
"I hear you have been keeping secrets from me." McGonagall's face was neutral. Not for the first time, Pansy wondered how McGonagall had become a Gryffindor. She seemed far too sly and subtle for the House.
"I have."
"And?"
Pansy pulled the letter and envelope from her robes and gave them to McGonagall. "The parents of each of our Muggleborn first year students received a copy of this letter approximately one week ago. The envelope is layered with concealment, confusion, and compulsion charms. The letter is masterful and convincing enough that only a few of the students whose parents read this letter still made it to the portkey locations."
"I see. How did you convince the parents to allow their students to attend our school?" Pansy explained her plan involving the Floo and visits. Rather than the anger Pansy had expected, McGonagall seemed intrigued. "You will be doing this," she said once Pansy finished. "I do not know if you intended to follow through when you made the promises, but you will be doing so now."
"I always keep my promises," Pansy said.
"Good." McGongall tapped her finger against the edge of the envelope. "One last thing, Professor."
"Yes?"
"Are all of the letters addressed this way?" She held up the envelope as example.
"I believe so."
"Find out how they got the addresses."
Pansy's eyes widened and her estimation of McGonagall rose. "The only place with that sort of information is the student roster," she said. "How many copies of that are there?"
McGonagall's thin lips pressed together grimly. "Two. The one created by the Quill in my offices and the copy that I gave to you this summer."
"They must have used mine. If anyone finds out--," Pansy said.
"They will say the letters were yours."
"Yes." Pansy had reached this conclusion before she had even met with the other professors about the letter. At first she had blamed herself for being too willing to see monsters within shadows, a notion that Adrian had inadvertently confirmed, but now the Headmistress was suggesting the same. "I will oversee the visitations myself." The more she could divide herself from anti-Muggle sentiments the better.
"That may be best," she said. "As for the copied roster--"
"I will task Draco with recovering it," Pansy said. "If we've any luck, they will only have the names of the students they contacted."
"Luck, Professor? I did not realize that Slytherins believed in such a thing."
"We know it exists; we simply are not fond of it."
McGonagall smiled. "You know, Pro-- Pansy," she paused and Pansy nodded slightly, granting the permission to her given name. "I may actually enjoy working with you."
"Likewise, Headmistress."
"Minerva," McGonagall corrected. Pansy repeated her name. From someone as stately and old-fashioned as McGonagall, this was either a sign of friendship or respect. Pansy hoped the latter. She followed McGonagall out of the office; and, together, they descended the tower and entered the pandemonium of the Great Hall.