RP: Reparations, Preparations
Title: Reparations, Preparations
Date: July 31, 1998
Time of Day: 4pm
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Argus Filch, Harry Potter (mentioned)
Location: Hogwarts
Status: Public
Brief Summary: Professor McGonagall surveys the remaining damage at Hogwarts, reflects on the life of Severus Snape, and renews her vow to help Harry become an auror.
Argus Filch followed Professor McGonagall around the main hall as she swept from place to place. He scribbled on his clipboard furiously as McGonagall dictated what needed to be done. "The House hourglasses are repaired," she said, motioning to the four massive hourglasses against the wall, "but still must be enchanted with Tally Charms. Do tell Filius." Indeed, although the hourglasses were intact, the jewels in each settled at the bottom chamber, in strict accordance with gravity. They needed to be raised to the top before the House Cup began. Filch jotted down McGonagall's instructious hastily. "Now there has been much talk about a memorial for the fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts here. I'm not opposed to the idea, necessarily, but I haven't the faintest idea where it would be appropriate to place it. Send an owl to Giles at the Ministry and get him here, so he might give his opinion. He's the expert on these things."
McGonagall then led Filch out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase to the first floor. She pointed to one of the staircases to the second floor that had been newly rebuilt. "The old staircase would move every five minutes to that landing" -- she pointed to a balcony that had a space in the railing to accomodate the staircase -- "but since being built, these new stairs haven't budged. I daresay I could duplicate the effect one way or another, but please ask Madame Pince if she can't find the exact spell the original builders' used. Who knows what purpose they might have had."
And so it had been for most of the summer. Hogwarts Castle held countless secrets, to be sure; even Albus Dumbledore confessed to not knowing all of them. Even at the best of times Hogwarts could frustrate its occupants with its idiosyncracies, and now the castle seemed more of a mystery to Minerva than ever. Never before had the school suffered so much damage, and never before had so many of its structural Charms been disrupted -- some protective, some helpful, and some whose purpose baffled Minerva entirely. What's more, most of the methods of Hogwarts's construction had been lost, making the rebuilding process an inexact science full of guesswork. The Founders never seemed to do anything the simple way: a simple Protean Charm was not enough to make the gargoyle in front of the Headmaster's office move when asked, for example; oh no, a veritable web of enchantments suffused them. Dispel one, and another that did essentially the same thing would remain, ensuring the gargoyle's loyalty to the true Headmaster. Of course Dolores Umbridge had never succeeded in entering Dumbledore's office: a mediocre witch like her stood no chance.
And Severus Snape. Minerva should have known the night that the office relented to Severus that Severus was truly there on Dumbledore's orders. At the time, Minerva merely surmised that Professor Snape, being a far more accomplished wizard than Umbridge, had simply managed to overcome the various enchantments on the Headmaster's office. Now she realized that was nearly impossible; the Headmaster's door only opened for whom it wanted.
Or at least it had. The Battle of Hogwarts left the guardian gargoyle smashed on the floor, capable only of sardonic remarks on its predicament. It took little more than a Reparo to get the gargoyle in one piece, followed by a Protean Charm to get it to move at the sound of the password. But when Minerva sat in the Headmistress's chamber, she felt far less secure than she should have. The old headmasters' portraits surrounded her, the true headmasters for whom the door would open. When Minerva retired, she wondered, would her portrait appear in such august company? Or did the office's ultimate loyalties belong to the last one whom the original enchantment accepted, the last headmaster before the protective Charms were destroyed? Did Severus Snape die as the last true headmaster of Hogwarts?
"That will be all for today, Filch," Minerva said, as she and the caretaker reached the door to the office. The scratching of his quill ceased and he parted. Minerva looked at the restored gargoyle and said, "Pride of Portree." The gargoyle sprung to life and lept out of the way. Minerva strode into the office and sat down. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore slept quietly; it had a habit of doing that whenever Minerva doubted herself most.
"It's July 31, Albus," Minerva said to the unresponsive portrait. "You know what that means. It's Harry Potter's birthday."
Minerva retrieved a quill and fresh piece of parchment from her desk, and began writing.
Dear Harry Potter,
As you are aware, the Wizarding Examination Authority has graciously made arrangements for seventh years to re-take their N.E.W.T.s, as last term's events hardly contributed to an atmosphere of study. This is an opportunity I would not miss, Potter, especially if you still desire to become an auror. In light of your victory over the Dark Lord, of course, the Ministry would be foolish not to take you on--but you and I both know that the Ministry is full of fools. It is in your best interests to, as they say, have all your bases covered: strong scores on your N.E.W.T.s can only help you achieve your ambition.
There is, of course, a formidable problem: you were absent for your seventh year. As heroic and important as your actions during the school months most surely were, you still missed an entire term's worth of curriculum in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts--in short, in all the most important subjects to an auror. The seventh year is an intensive one, and without it I fear your N.E.W.T. results will be jeopardized.
Now we come to the true purpose of this letter. If you recall, during your fifth year, in the presence of one Dolores Umbridge, I promised that even if I had to tutor you nightly, I would help you become an auror if it was the last thing I did. I am writing to let you know that even though it was made in the heat of the moment, the offer is still good.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
P.S. Happy Birthday.
Minerva finished her letter, sealed it, and gave it to her owl, Euclid. Euclid set off through the window, message tied to her leg, and Minerva sat, thinking of what to do next.
Date: July 31, 1998
Time of Day: 4pm
Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Argus Filch, Harry Potter (mentioned)
Location: Hogwarts
Status: Public
Brief Summary: Professor McGonagall surveys the remaining damage at Hogwarts, reflects on the life of Severus Snape, and renews her vow to help Harry become an auror.
Argus Filch followed Professor McGonagall around the main hall as she swept from place to place. He scribbled on his clipboard furiously as McGonagall dictated what needed to be done. "The House hourglasses are repaired," she said, motioning to the four massive hourglasses against the wall, "but still must be enchanted with Tally Charms. Do tell Filius." Indeed, although the hourglasses were intact, the jewels in each settled at the bottom chamber, in strict accordance with gravity. They needed to be raised to the top before the House Cup began. Filch jotted down McGonagall's instructious hastily. "Now there has been much talk about a memorial for the fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts here. I'm not opposed to the idea, necessarily, but I haven't the faintest idea where it would be appropriate to place it. Send an owl to Giles at the Ministry and get him here, so he might give his opinion. He's the expert on these things."
McGonagall then led Filch out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase to the first floor. She pointed to one of the staircases to the second floor that had been newly rebuilt. "The old staircase would move every five minutes to that landing" -- she pointed to a balcony that had a space in the railing to accomodate the staircase -- "but since being built, these new stairs haven't budged. I daresay I could duplicate the effect one way or another, but please ask Madame Pince if she can't find the exact spell the original builders' used. Who knows what purpose they might have had."
And so it had been for most of the summer. Hogwarts Castle held countless secrets, to be sure; even Albus Dumbledore confessed to not knowing all of them. Even at the best of times Hogwarts could frustrate its occupants with its idiosyncracies, and now the castle seemed more of a mystery to Minerva than ever. Never before had the school suffered so much damage, and never before had so many of its structural Charms been disrupted -- some protective, some helpful, and some whose purpose baffled Minerva entirely. What's more, most of the methods of Hogwarts's construction had been lost, making the rebuilding process an inexact science full of guesswork. The Founders never seemed to do anything the simple way: a simple Protean Charm was not enough to make the gargoyle in front of the Headmaster's office move when asked, for example; oh no, a veritable web of enchantments suffused them. Dispel one, and another that did essentially the same thing would remain, ensuring the gargoyle's loyalty to the true Headmaster. Of course Dolores Umbridge had never succeeded in entering Dumbledore's office: a mediocre witch like her stood no chance.
And Severus Snape. Minerva should have known the night that the office relented to Severus that Severus was truly there on Dumbledore's orders. At the time, Minerva merely surmised that Professor Snape, being a far more accomplished wizard than Umbridge, had simply managed to overcome the various enchantments on the Headmaster's office. Now she realized that was nearly impossible; the Headmaster's door only opened for whom it wanted.
Or at least it had. The Battle of Hogwarts left the guardian gargoyle smashed on the floor, capable only of sardonic remarks on its predicament. It took little more than a Reparo to get the gargoyle in one piece, followed by a Protean Charm to get it to move at the sound of the password. But when Minerva sat in the Headmistress's chamber, she felt far less secure than she should have. The old headmasters' portraits surrounded her, the true headmasters for whom the door would open. When Minerva retired, she wondered, would her portrait appear in such august company? Or did the office's ultimate loyalties belong to the last one whom the original enchantment accepted, the last headmaster before the protective Charms were destroyed? Did Severus Snape die as the last true headmaster of Hogwarts?
"That will be all for today, Filch," Minerva said, as she and the caretaker reached the door to the office. The scratching of his quill ceased and he parted. Minerva looked at the restored gargoyle and said, "Pride of Portree." The gargoyle sprung to life and lept out of the way. Minerva strode into the office and sat down. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore slept quietly; it had a habit of doing that whenever Minerva doubted herself most.
"It's July 31, Albus," Minerva said to the unresponsive portrait. "You know what that means. It's Harry Potter's birthday."
Minerva retrieved a quill and fresh piece of parchment from her desk, and began writing.
Dear Harry Potter,
As you are aware, the Wizarding Examination Authority has graciously made arrangements for seventh years to re-take their N.E.W.T.s, as last term's events hardly contributed to an atmosphere of study. This is an opportunity I would not miss, Potter, especially if you still desire to become an auror. In light of your victory over the Dark Lord, of course, the Ministry would be foolish not to take you on--but you and I both know that the Ministry is full of fools. It is in your best interests to, as they say, have all your bases covered: strong scores on your N.E.W.T.s can only help you achieve your ambition.
There is, of course, a formidable problem: you were absent for your seventh year. As heroic and important as your actions during the school months most surely were, you still missed an entire term's worth of curriculum in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts--in short, in all the most important subjects to an auror. The seventh year is an intensive one, and without it I fear your N.E.W.T. results will be jeopardized.
Now we come to the true purpose of this letter. If you recall, during your fifth year, in the presence of one Dolores Umbridge, I promised that even if I had to tutor you nightly, I would help you become an auror if it was the last thing I did. I am writing to let you know that even though it was made in the heat of the moment, the offer is still good.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
P.S. Happy Birthday.
Minerva finished her letter, sealed it, and gave it to her owl, Euclid. Euclid set off through the window, message tied to her leg, and Minerva sat, thinking of what to do next.