Chapter 3
After a long trek up the stairs, it was a little disappointing that the new headmaster was not present. The office stayed actually pretty similar to what she remembered. The sorting hat stood proudly on its perch, and 3 new portraits adorned the wall. Few of the inhabitants opened eyes to look at the visitors, but most deemed her uninteresting.
A man with sharp features and black hair narrowed his eyes. She instantly recognized him. Headmaster Black was squinting at her, probably trying to place her face. Cassandra chuckled, remembering how much fun it was, to make speeches and make fun of her friends, while she was polyjuiced as the man. Hope he eventually got his cure for boils..
His was not the portraits whose help she wanted. No, her portrait was up on the opposite wall, and Professor Fitzgerald was sleeping soundly, leaning on her frame.
Professor McGonagall stood to the back, curiously watching, but giving her space. Cassandra cleared her throat nervously, “Ehm, Professor Fitzgerald? Niamh? Niamh Fitzgerald
"
The woman in the painting snored softly, and woke up. With a small confusion, she looked around, and eventually down into the office. Eyes opened wide, and her hands covered her mouth. “Cassandra Drake?”
“Forgive me, Professor, I didn’t mean to yell. But I need to talk to you.”
“Dear Cassandra… But, what? We all thought…”
“I gathered. After the fight, the magic… I remember a blast, and I woke up, there. Everything looks different, and it….” she trailed off.
“Yes, many years have passed. Even though it's unexpected, I am relieved to see you. I know I will not be the only one.” Niamh gave her a soft smile. She still looked close to tears, unbelieving.
“Do you know…. how am I here?”
She deliberated over the question. “I will consult with the others, but we can only guess.”
That did not sound promising, and Cassandra deflated as she heard that.
“So, you do recognize her.” professor Mcgonagall stated. Cassandra flinched, forgetting for a moment that the woman was in the room with them. “I must admit, I expected you to approach professor Black, since he was the one actually at the school you said when you’re from.
“It IS you!”
Speak of the devil…
Everyone turned to professor Black. He must have finally connected the dots.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you got me in, young lady? Everyone blaming ME for you and Aleazar’s deaths, we were forced to cancel final exams! Once the news got out, all the parents, flocking to me for explanation, threatening to take children out of school, board of Governors spamming me with owls! And now, here you are. How are you going to explain yourself, young lady?”
There it was, confirmation of Eleazar’s Figs death she was dreading to hear. And for it to be mentioned and spoken about as a chore, an inconvenience, made her blood boil.
“Maybe if you took the threat of Ranrok seriously, and protected the school, I wouldn’t even need to be involved. I owe you nothing.” she said, voice shaking a little.
“And don’t you dare talk about professor Fig like that! Without his help, Hogwarts wouldn't be standing, and you would be a headmaster of nothing.”
That must have sufficiently shocked him into silence, red in face, thinking of retort. The rest of the paintings woke up, and started listening in with unhidden curiosity.
Dismissive, Cassandra turned to the portrait of Niamh Fitzgerald. “Professor, I still have one urgent question. Can we explain that?
Eyes flickering briefly to McGonagall, picking up on the subtle emphasis. Can we reveal ancient magic? was left unsaid.
Professor Fitzgerald took a deep breath.
“I won’t forbid you anymore.”
Cassandra looked at her in surprise.
“You have sacrificed a lot for our secrets. We believed you were gone for good, after the battle, and we discussed it. If we trusted you, trusted more people, things could have been different. Your death was on our hands, just like Isidora’s. While in no hurry to reveal the truth to the public, we agreed if another like you came, we would act differently.”
Quiet resolve seeped from her words, making Cassandra believe that her disappearance (death) did actually affect the Keepers.
“And so, yes. You may talk about it to anyone you deem worthy. Including McGonagall and Dumbledore. For them, I can vouch.” she nodded at professor.
Quiet thank you escaped her lips. The fight in her died, replaced by deep exhaustion. Cassandra slumped into the armchair in front of the headmaster's desk.
“Thank you, Professor Fitzgerald. As always I value your opinion, especially when it pertains to my character.” a new voice added, with a slight chuckle. An old man in purple robes, half moon glasses and long beard made his way to his chair, and Cassandra got a first look at the newest Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was kind looking, with a twinkle in his eyes, but there was.. something.. about him.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, miss Drake. A new student, just at the end of the term, is highly unexpected. But I am sure we can make an exception, hm?”
“It is nice to meet you, headmaster.” she smiled, despite everything. First impressions and all that. She was raised better.
“Now, I was late, because I was actually confirming your status as a student. You might be happy to hear your name is in fact on the list of enrolled students - in 1890 and today. If I may ask, what was the date you left your time?”
“12th of June, I think.”
“You’re not sure?”
“It was a very turbulent few days. I better start at the beginning.”
Headmaster Dumbledore beckoned her to continue, and McGonagall sat in the other armchair, both giving her their undivided attention.
And so she told them. How her magic manifested, of Professor Fig and their dangerous journey, and discovery of ancient magic. She told them about the Keepers and their trials, Niamh Fitzgerald nodding and adding some details from her portrait, and about Ranrok.
Her hands were shaking, as she was describing what Isidora Morganach hid under the castle, and how close the goblin was to actually destroying wizardkind.
When she was done, a silence fell over the three of them. Reality sinking in for Cassandra, and digesting the information for the professors. McGonagall was subtly drying her tears, and Dumbledore looking pensively out of the window.
“I started attending Hogwarts the next year, after the Ranrok’s rebellion. The faculty hasn’t found a replacement teacher for Magical Theory, and it slowly fell out of curriculum. I always thought it was a shame. The older students in Gryffindor talked about the student that saved the school and sacrificed herself, a mysterious fifth-year.” Dumbledore mused.
Her heart panged, at the thought of Natty and Garreth, grieving and preserving her memory.
She cannot cry about it again, gods.
“Your ability put you in a difficult position, miss Drake. The right thing and the hard thing are usually the same, and you did the hardest thing. You saved the school from destruction, protected everyone from the rebellion, and lost almost everything in the process. But, you are alive. You cannot get the life you had back, but you now have time to make a new one.”
At that last sentence, tears welled up again.
“Your friends would want you to be happy, I am sure of it. Even if they cannot share that happiness with you anymore.”
If I had to choose between being miserable with my friends, and happy here, I would go back in a heartbeat.
“Now, let us settle a few things.” Dumbledore clasped his hands.
“We will put out an official story, that you were homeschooled until now, but joined to take your exams. If you wish to share the real story, you are of course welcome to. But since it is deeply personal, I imagine you don’t want everyone in your business. Agreed?”
Cassandra nodded in agreement. That was sensible.
“About the O.W.L.s, the exams finished last week. I will ask for a special exam during the summer, so you do not have to repeat a whole year. Also to give you time to settle yourself, and review. I am sure the curriculum went through some changes since the 19th century, so all the professors will be notified of your situation, and help you prepare.
I can either tell them the whole story, or censor it a little. Perhaps you have been at Saint Mungo’s, and therefore missed them. Which one would you prefer?”
“...The censored version, please.”
“How about your head of House? I would feel better if you had a teacher close to you, if you needed anything.”
“Very well. If you think he can be trusted with the knowledge, I will trust you.”
For the next half an hour, they completed paperwork for her, adding her to classes she took in her original time, explaining a few differences in the castle and daily workings.
Free trips to Hogsmeade were limited to few select weekends, and students had to sign up for them, with a guardians’ permission. Floo stations, which Dumbledore remembered from his early years as a student, were forbidden, as they wanted to restrict students from leaving after curfew all over the country (explained Dumbledore with a pointed look).
She was expected to attend classes till the rest of the term, after which McGonagall will help her figure out accommodations outside of school. They did, however, all agreed she can spend the rest of the day getting acquaintanced with her new (old) dorm and catch up on sleep.