Thoughts? And Prayers
Last time...
“Du…Albus,” Hera tried, correcting herself before continuing, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. “are you…Are you asking me to agree to be a bribe?”
Chapter 2
Severus had only a seconds warning, before Potter flung his office door open.
“So, Dumbledore wants me to go with him to help bribe Slughorn to teach here as the History of Magic professor.” She announced. “Thoughts?”
“And prayers.” He couldn’t help but quip. “You’re going to need them.”
She instantly breaks out with a wide smile, and replied. “I knew you cared.”
The door is closed a second later, and Severus is left wondering how early was too early to break out the medicinal brandy.
This is how Hera finds herself making her way towards a small stone house with the Headmaster some few minutes later. The wand she’d taken from Dumbledore was currently in her hair. She’d thought it too obvious to remain in the holster when she discovered it had moved itself, though it had been a better place at the time. The man himself had made no mention of it, other than to note it with his eyes when he’d entered her office. He carried a new wand now, and seemed quite happy with it, but she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he wouldn’t want his old wand back. She decided instead to tackle the other thing she’d wanted to talk about.
“Want to tell me why you went to the Riddle house?” She asked, as they walked. She’d noted the intruder alarm spell, but hadn’t said anything as it was likely Dumbledore knew about it as well.
“Ah, so we are talking about ‘the arm thing’ then?” He returned, sounding more amused than she felt he had a right to be, before his tone became serious. “I wanted to prove to myself that he wasn’t the same as I remembered. To his credit, he removed the worst of the curses on it, but that last one…Curiosity is a weakness I own, and perhaps I should have remembered he would use such a thing to test me as well. Care to tell me why you’re wearing the ring?”
“I don’t know.” She admitted, causing him to pause and look down to her. “It…The magic of it feels familiar, like…like someone I grew up knowing but can’t remember now, like a dear friend I’ve somehow forgotten. It’s silly, but…I was hoping if I wore it, the magic of it might help me remember who I’ve forgotten.”
“That hardly sounds silly to me, to wish to remember someone dear that we believe forgotten.” He replied, his voice taking on the tone of one lost in memories. She hadn’t expected him to tense now that they were so close until she saw why; the front door was off the hinges. “Oh dear.”
The man moved carefully forward, walking swiftly and silently up the garden path. Hera followed at a slower pace, waiting. When she made it to him, he was already searching the home, a simple ‘lumos’ lighting the way. To the left, another door stood open, and Dumbledore walked into the sitting room. A scene of total devastation met their eyes.
A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper.
“Wow. When you said he wanted to stay in his retirement, you weren’t kidding.” Hera noted with a whistle.
“He really went the extra mile too. Dragon’s blood, if I’m not mistaken.” Dumbledore agreed, gesturing over to the overturned sofa.
Without warning, the man swooped around, and plunged the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled. “Ouch!”
“Good evening, Horace.” Dumbledore greeted, straightening up again.
Hera snickered as the armchair transfigured back into a rather rotund, bald, old man who massaged his lower belly and squinted up at Albus in annoyance.
“There was no need to stick the wand in that hard.” The man said gruffly, clambering to his feet. “It hurt.”
The wand light sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walrus like moustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pyjamas. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore’s chin.
“I was wondering if you had noticed.” She admitted, much to the man’s chagrin and Dumbledore’s amusement.
“What gave it away?” The other man grunted as he staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly. He seemed remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.
“Oh, the more insidious curses that would cause this kind of damage leave a bit of a tinge in the air; something of a feel to them. If there had been any sort of attack like the kind that could do this, there would have been something of that about. Instead, it just…felt sort of like you blew up your sitting room.” Hera shrugged. “Didn’t help that I noted an intruder alert sort of thing a bit of a ways back.”
“You did notice that then?” Dumbledore inquired, a little surprised. “I had wondered. Horace has always been rather subtle with his security spells.”
“It was well done.” Hera nodded. The two older men looked to each other before setting about repairing the damaged room. “Way to go the extra mile in actually damaging the place though. Illusions can be harder to maintain, but damage like this is easily mended.”
“So glad you approve.” The man grumbled, still in a bit of a sour mood, right up until he really saw her; his eyes, of course, dart to her forehead. “Oho! You’re…You’re…”
“This,” Dumbledore said, moving forward to make the introduction. “is Hera Potter. Hera, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn.”
Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. “So that’s how you thought you’d persuade me, is it? Well, the answer’s no, Albus.”
“So you didn’t wish to join us for lunch?” Hera inquired, deciding rambling was the best way to approach this. The man turned to her in confusion. “It’s a bit short notice, I know, but I’m going to be joining the Hogwarts staff as a sort of junior professor starting this term. The Headmaster thought you might have stories to share that would help me, as I’ll be taking over teaching Potions to the younger years for a time. It was quite rude of us not to at least send an owl first. We didn’t even try to reach you via Floo. No wonder you tried to convince us there’d been some sort of home invasion! We’ve disregarded your obvious wish to be alone, and intruded upon your privacy! Please, accept our apologies, and-”
“No, no, it’s quite alright.” Slughorn insisted, rushing to assure her. “Stay for a drink. Tell me all about this junior professor business you’ve agreed to take on. I’d like to hear it.”
“If you’re sure?” Hera hedged, looking guilt stricken.
“I insist!” Slughorn assured her, before guiding her to the now upright and pristine sofa.
Dumbledore followed after her, looking bemused, taking a seat by the fire. Slughorn soon busied himself gathering decanters and glasses. When he turned to face the room again, his eyes immediately fell on her, but looked away as if worried to hurt his eyes. It was most confusing, but Dumbledore didn’t seem concerned at all, and Hera wondered if this was just normal for the man. She had no frame of reference to work from, and while she hadn’t lied exactly, she’d certainly misrepresented the true purpose of their visit.
“Would you mind if I added some things?” Hera inquired. “It would be a shame not to treat you with something after having invaded your home so.”
He’d been about to answer her, though how she didn’t know, but clamped his mouth shut when he saw her casual displays of magic. Hera summoned a small feast for them; enough to fit on the table comfortably without it looking crowded, with plates for their use and everything. Dumbledore, to his credit, began picking through the choices on offer as if he were used to seeing such casual displays of magic. To be fair, he’d seen enough of her magic that it was likely a possibility. Slughorn, on the other hand, openly looked taken aback by it all.
“Summoned or Conjured, might I ask?” Dumbledore asked, once he’d gathered his favourites.
“Summoned this time.” Hera admitted, now taking to picking through for her favourites as well. “Winky and Dobby have taken charge of the Potter House Elves, and none of them think I eat enough.”
“House elves are rather protective that way.” He replied with an easy sort of smile, looking faintly amused. “As much magic as you must have, I imagine they’d have you eating every second of the day if they could manage it.”
“Don’t think they haven’t tried.” Hera admitted with a snort. “I swear I think they’re competing with the Weasley twins about who can leave the best snacks.”
“And can you…can you conjure food as well?” Slughorn hazarded to ask.
“Of course.” Hera answered, easily switching her attention to him. “Once you know the properties of everything that goes into a particular dish, conjuring food with actual nutritional value is no hard task, and I’m a rather good cook in my own right. The reason why most conjured foods have no nutritional value is people forget to factor it in, and considering they’re usually trying to perform this type of magic when they want food right that instant thank you very much, it’s an easy mistake to make.”
Slughorn began looking a little panicked at that, rather like he was screaming at himself internally. It was Dumbledore who began asking about her lesson plans. Hera spent a good deal of time elaborating on what she hoped to do. When Dumbledore asked for stories of her ‘study group’, Hera launched into what she liked to refer to as her ‘proud teacher’ mode, gushing about how many of her ‘students’ had come so far in their studies. She was especially proud of her wandless nonverbal casting ducklings that would now be Second and Third year students in the coming term.
“I’m sorry. Are you…implying you taught a bunch of children how to cast wandless nonverbal magic?” Slughorn inquired, disbelief clear in his voice. “That’s impossible. Either one of those alone is difficult for a fully grown adult to achieve.”
“I’m not implying it. I’m stating it outright.” Hera corrected, gently. “Wandless nonverbal magic isn’t as difficult or rare as most here seem to think it is. Just look at how other countries do things. I know there’s at least one or two that teach that as the main form of casting due to how dense the population is. Besides, a child’s first bit of magic is just that; wandless and nonverbal. They want the thing, and it comes to them, though results vary. Channelling through a wand gives more control, but it used to be just a teaching tool, where as now it is a crutch. If wands were truly as important as we make them, we would never have been able to cast before we first held one.”
Slughorn sat wide eyed and blinking slowly as he absorbed that, and then just as easily settled into his easygoing demeanour with a snort. “Don’t go letting Ollivander hear you say that.”
“We actually have a quill pall sort of discussion about the subject.” Hera revealed, surprising the two men. “He’s quite fascinated about it.”
“Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?” Dumbledore inquired.
“Not so well.” Slughorn sighed at once. “Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can’t move like I used to. Well, that’s to be expected. Old age. Fatigue.”
“I could heal some of that for you.” Hera offered. Rheumatism sounded awful, from what she remembered learning of it. “Not the old age, sadly. The weak chest, rheumatism, and fatigue though; that I can help with.”
“I had heard about your visit to St. Mungo’s.” Slughorn acknowledged. “Don’t think I don’t know why he’s really brought you.”
“Did you really expect him not to have an ulterior motive?” Hera countered. The man looked surprised at her blunt response, but then relaxed as he gave a nod of acknowledgement. “If it helps, I agreed to come along because I really want to get rid of Professor Binns. No offence to him as a ghost, or a person, but he’s about as interesting as stale bread.”
That admittance pulled a startled laugh from the man, having not expected such statement.
“He’s not…He’s not that…” Slughorn tried to deny through his laughter, but even he couldn’t deny it. “Oh Merlin! He is that bad!”
Something about the tension in the air seemed to ease in that moment, and Hera felt safer to move onto other topics.
“How was my mother as a student?” She inquired. “I hear stories about my father and his friends all the time, but not many about her.”
“Oh…Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favourites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine.” Slughorn admitted proudly. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”
“Which was your House?” Hera inquired, realizing she hadn’t thought to ask that before.
“I was Head of Slytherin.” He replied easily, quite proud of his old House.
“I should have guessed, what with Professor Snape’s apprenticeship and all.” Hera nodded, seeming to shock him with her lack of ill will towards the house. “Oh, I House hopped?”
He still looked confused.
“I was moved from Gryffindor to Slytherin.” Hera informed him. “I probably could have stayed in Gryffindor and still apprenticed with Professor Snape, but I was convinced at the time that that wasn’t true. That might have been because I talked the hat out of sorting me to Slytherin in the first place.”
The rest of lunch was spent asking him about his experience teaching students. She asked him for advice, listened to his stories, and shared a few of her own. He seemed genuinely pleased that she and her friends had a physical manifestation of the shield brethren bond. It had lead to more questions and stories, though it was him asking her things this time. Dumbledore just sat back and watched the interaction, looking as tickled pink as one could get while remaining as subtle as he tended to be.
“All right, all right, Albus, I’ll do it.” Slughorn announced at last, seeming to have settled something within his own mind.
“You will come out of retirement?”
“Yes, yes,” Slughorn huffed impatiently. “I must be mad, but yes.”
“Wonderful!” Dumbledore exclaimed, beaming. “Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September.”
“Ending lunch so abruptly just because you got what you wanted sounds rather rude.” Hera pointed out. Slughorn snorted at the surprised look that crossed Dumbledore’s face. “It wouldn’t hurt you to swap a few stories yourself, you know.”
Slughorn let the silence sit between them for a moment before adding. “Oh, and I want a pay raise, Dumbledore.”
“You’re sure this will be fine, us leaving?” Salazar inquired, cautiously following after her as she walked down the hill to Hogsmeade. “Also, why are we walking?”
“There’s nothing wrong with walking.” Hera insisted. “Besides, it’s not like Dumbledore has a say. He did ask that we stay out for a bit longer than I’d originally planned, but that’s not a problem.”
“He wants us gone longer?” Salazar wondered, sensing something wrong.
“He wanted to give Slughorn a bit of a warning before he saw you, whether he remembers or not.” Hera replied. “Not sure why.”
Salazar’s heart sank as he forced himself to admit. “…Slughorn told me what a horcrux was.”
Hera paused, letting him say this without trying to pry it from him.
“He was horrified when I asked him about making seven of them.”
A horrified expression crossed her face then, making his insides twist uncomfortably, before her words reached him.
“That son of a bitch.” She swore under her breath. “I’m going to kill him.”
It was the only warning he got to place his hand on her shoulder to stop her, but the sudden shock of it was enough to do the trick.
“Hera, it’s okay.” Salazar insisted, not that it looked like she believed him. “It’s okay. Really. Listen…You might trust me, but I don’t.”
Her expression twisted into mutinous defiance, and he tried again.
“Dumbledore remembers a different version of me.” He reminded her. “Progress though I have made, I still feel that I am not so far removed from that that I couldn’t go back with little effort.”
From her now thunderous expression, he could see he wasn’t making this any better, and sighed.
“Hera, please.” He tried again, and this seemed to catch her off guard more than anything else. “Dumbledore has been gathering those that might remember, because even if they don’t remember, they will be wary of me. I need that.”
“You…You really don’t mind?” Hera asked, hesitant and uncertain.
“I really don’t.” He assured her, to which she relaxed. “Now, where were we headed?”
“Don’t worry.” She replied, perking right back up. “You’ll see.”
And indeed he did.
The shop she lead him to was bright, the window display filled with things that whirled and popped. Inside, boxes were piled high to the ceiling. Salazar caught sight of something called a ‘Skiving Snackbox’, and he wondered the things inside. Throughout the rest of the store were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. There was even something called a ‘Patented Daydreaming Charm’, which given the picture that went with it…thankfully it wasn’t sold to anyone below sixteen.
“Fred! George!” Hera called out happily, upon seeing them. “It’s good to see you, and wow those robes clash something fierce. Nice!”
“How are you, Hera?” One of the twins reply in greeting. He wishes he could tell the difference between them the way Hera could. “Salazar? Would you mind stepping over here for a minute? I’d like to runs something by you real quick.”
Hera instantly looked concerned and uncertain, but the twin in question gave a dismissive wave.
“It’s an idea for the shop. I wanted to run an idea by him, a bit of part time work maybe, or consulting.” They explained. “Some of the things we create might not be safe for the average wixen, and having someone who is more familiar with some of the darkest aspects of magic could come in handy.”
“Come on,” The other twin offered. “I’ll show you around the shop.”
“If you’re certain?” Hera inquired, looking to him instead of either of them.
“It’ll be fine.” Salazar assured her.
“Alright.” She acquiesced, before turning to the other twin with a wry sort of smile. “Show me around my temple?”
Of course, at that moment a customer had to stumble upon them, eyes widening at the words.
“It was a joke!” Hera insisted, alarmed.
“It really wasn’t.” The other twin insisted, before whisking Hera away.
“Alright, while Fred had her distracted,” George – It had to be George – stated, motioning him into the back and away from customers. “Tell me you can get into her room at Hogwarts.”
“I don’t think she’d appreciate that.” Salazar instantly objected. “I got a whole lecture about violations of privacy, and a story about that prank you all pulled when she stole Severus’ clothes for ‘authenticity’.”
“It’s just…You know how she is about gifts.” George grimaced, rubbing at the back of his neck in nervousness. “It’s a wonder she accepts those offerings.”
“I see what you mean.” Salazar nodded in understanding. It was weird how Hera would get around people who wanted to give her things, but he wasn’t sure how to accept a gift that was truly meant for himself either. “What is it you want me to smuggle in? I might not be willing to attempt sneaking it into her room, but I can try asking Hogwarts to do it instead. That castle loves her.”
“Did she tell you what she did to Umbridge?” George inquired. Salazar shook his head no, because that was not a story she had shared. “Well…when Hera…did what she did…it freed us all to be able to talk about what had happened. Kids started writing to their families. Folks were appalled, wanted justice, but Hera had already dealt the worst punishment they could think to inflict. So they started asking their kids what they wanted to do. We all got together over the summer, and talked it out. Whatever we did, we wanted it to be from everyone, so we all pitched in, and well…”
A few steps in, and Salazar couldn’t help the gasp he let out. “Oh dear. I see your problem. Okay, here’s what we do…”
…
“Hey, you and George aren’t…I dunno…suspicious of him or anything, are you?” Hera asked, as Fred guided her around.
She’d just seen the collection of muggle magic tricks, and had given ideas about which ones they might want to add later on.
“We’re eventually going to work out how you can tell us apart, you know.” Fred teased.
“You mean you haven’t already?” She countered, wide eyed and innocent. The two only managed to hold it together for a couple of seconds before the laughter started.
“It’s nothing like that, Hera. We just wanted to help the bloke out, and see if he’d help us out in return.” Fred assured her. “Pranksters honour.”
“You know, you should really invite Sirius and Remus to see this place.” Hera commented.
Fred scrunched his face up in confusion. “I mean, if you want, but why?”
“Fred, surely you and George noticed.” Hera tried, but Fred just stared at her uncomprehendingly. “I guess not. Well, if you do end up inviting them, ask them about Messrs Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. They might have some stories to tell. Not sure if they’re ready to talk about Wormtail without swearing just yet.”
A look of understanding dawned on his face, before he replied. “Wait…They call each other Moony and Padfoot.”
“They do.” Hera snickered in amusement.
“How did we miss this?” Fred groaned into his hands, sounding absolutely mortified. "We celebrated the holidays together and everything!"
“I dunno what to tell you there, Mate.”
He stilled, splaying his fingers just enough to be able to see her through one eye. “They call you Prongslet.”
The words sounded almost accusatory.
“Do they?” She replied with a wolfish grin. “You’d think I’d have remembered that.”
“Hera Potter, spill!”
“You two done in here?” Hera inquired, peering into the room he and George had disappeared into after she’d left with Fred. “I need help pulling a prank on Dumbledore.”
“Why?” Both Fred and George asked at the same time.
“He lied to me.” Hera shrugged, like it was that simple. “Even if Binns wasn’t aware – which he is – they could have used a different classroom for whatever professor took over the class.”
“What do you mean Binns is aware?” George asked for clarification, clearly in disbelief. “He’s been teaching the same class since he died. It’s why it’s all goblin wars all the time.”
“He’s aware whenever I enter the room.” Hera countered, plopping down in the chair across from him. They’d been using one of those meeting rooms with the long white tables in it as a ruse for whenever Hera and Fred got back, as a cover. “We’ve had full on conversations and everything.”
“Hera, you wouldn’t happen to have an old invisibility cloak, would you?” Salazar wondered.
“Yeah, old family heirloom.” Hera nodded. “Why?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute.” George insisted, after Fred whispered in his ear about something. “When were you going to tell us about the Marauders?”
“In my defence, I did offer to as a distraction away from all the Loki questions you were about to ask.” Hera teased.
The conversation flowed easily after that, but Salazar remained distracted. She’d answered the question so casually, as if she had no idea the possible significance, and perhaps that was so. During the visit to Gringotts about the Wylit Vault, they had also stumbled upon the knowledge that the Peverell line had merged with the Potters. Hera had been interested in the way one is when rediscovering old family knowledge, but nothing beyond that. Knowing the stories as he did, Salazar had been much more interested.
That’s when it clicked. Hera didn’t know, and more than likely hadn’t sought out the knowledge because she didn’t even know she was missing it. Salazar knew the stories of the Deathly Hallows, had sought them out when he’d been Voldemort, so he was fairly certain of his theory. Hera Potter – who had no knowledge of them, nor had she sought them out – had managed to collect all three. The ring rested on her right hand, unobtrusive but visible. The wand was tucked in like a hair stick, deceptive in how it caught the eye. The cloak, however, had never been one for show, and he wondered how often Hera had used it to hide away.
He wondered what this meant for her. Had she become the Master of Death now, or was there some further condition to fulfil? She didn’t appear any different. He was also certain he didn’t remember any further conditions being needed in the stories, but could believe that the stories might not hold everything. It was odd to him that even knowing how close all three objects were to him, he didn’t want to take them from her, something he marvelled over as he continued to listen to the three around him and their animated conversation.
“Do we really have to do this?” Salazar asked, the dread clear in his voice.
It had been a few days since their trip to Hogsmeade. That morning, they’d both been informed that there would be a staff meeting to introduce all the new teachers to each other and the senior staff. Hera understood his nerves, shared in them even, but this wasn’t something they could avoid. This was just something they were going to have to bite the bullet on, as Tony liked to say. Taking a bracing breath, she turned to see just how nervous Salazar really was.
“If it makes you feel any better, I would have rather faced another dragon than to open a Yule Ball.” Hera revealed. He looked to her in confusion, and she shrugged. “Dealing with physical threats felt easier than having to withstand all the stares and judgment. At least I could talk to the dragon. People? Not so much.”
“Why does that make an alarming amount of sense right now?” Salazar wondered aloud.
“Probably for the same reason it made sense to me then.” Hera supplied, before taking a steadying breath, and making to open the door.
Most everyone was there already, which Hera hated. She’d have rather gotten there early to scope things out, but Salazar’s nervousness was understandable. He’d avoided meeting with Slughorn so far, but that was really only going to work for so long. Not everyone turned to see who’d entered, which was a blessing. Having all eyes on you at once like that was more than a little unnerving.
“My word, if it isn’t…I didn’t believe it when Albus told me, but…” Slughorn stated, having walked up to them when Hera was lost in thought. Salazar tensed beside her, and Hera reacted without a thought.
“Professor Slughorn, this is my younger brother, Salazar Gaunt.” Hera stated, introducing them. “I would appreciate it if you did not encroach upon his personal space. Crowds tend to make the both of us nervous enough as it is.”
“Oh! Of course! I meant no offence.” Slughorn apologized quickly, stepping back a bit. Salazar relaxed just a touch, but she doubted anyone else would have noticed in the first place. “I’m sorry, did you say younger brother? As I understood it, James and Lily didn’t have any other children. How is this possible?”
“It’s quite simple, Professor. It’s through a process called nunya.” Hera stated, a bit cross as she put her hands on Salazar’s shoulders to try and steer him away from the situation. “As in none of your business, so mind your own.”
She knew Slughorn had a curious streak to rival Dumbledore, and how they’d met over the summer had to have been something of a boundary violation somehow, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him stick his nose into things that weren’t his business. Salazar snorted, his eyes wide with shock and amusement. Slughorn looked surprised, as if not expecting such a defensive reaction to his curiosity. The snort was enough to send Salazar into snickers of laughter, which was enough to ease the suddenly tense moment, and Hera let go. Slughorn actually grinned a bit sheepishly at it, the apology already more than clear.
“Yes, I do tend to step right into the thick of it, I’m afraid.” Slughorn admitted. “Albus tried to explain it to me, but I didn’t quite understand what he meant. He did remark how much young Salazar here looks like an old student of mine, one I had hoped would do wonderful things, but well…The past is in the past. Perhaps I should let it stay there. Now, Mr. Gaunt, I’ve already met Lady Potter here. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“It’s good to meet you, Professor.” Salazar managed with a respectful nod. “What subject will you be teaching?”
“Don’t tell Binns, but History of Magic.” Slughorn whispered all conspiratorial like. “I’ll be getting a different room, so he’ll not notice.”
It was then that Snape moved towards them.
“There’s no need to monopolize them, Horace.” Snape stated. “As it is, Salazar will not be staying for long.”
This was news to the both of them.
“As you are a new student transferring in, and have agreed to assist Potter in her junior professor duties, we felt it best you meet with the other professors before the start of term. Once you have met with them all, you’ll be headed back down to my quarters.” Snape continued. “I’m sure this will give you time for any last minute plans, or perusing subjects you wish to brush up on.”
She thought Salazar would object to that, but he just looked thoughtful and nodded. Did Snape know something she didn’t? That sounded likely. The man’s secrets had secrets half the time, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand it all. Most of the teachers, Hera knew, and it was a good sort of strange to be discussing school with them on this side of things.
There were a few new faces, of course. Horace Slughorn had taken over History of Magic; not that anyone would be telling Binns. She didn’t know what to make of the strange man that would be taking over the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, so she mulled over it while she met with the others. Kingsley Shacklebolt would be splitting responsibilities with him anyway, taking the fifth through seventh years for now. He likely didn’t want to see if Bill’s efforts had paid off, and wanted a chance to make it back to his auror job without incident.
“Now, I know you know how the point system works on the student side of things, but for teachers-” Minerva had been explaining, when Hera cut her off.
“I’ll not be doing that.”
“The point system has been in place for many years now, Hera.” Minerva tried. “You’re not the first to express their unhappiness in it, but that is how it has always been.”
“I won’t be doing that.” Hera stated, digging her heels in on the matter. “It is an archaic system that does more harm than good, designed to pit student against student, using them to punish their fellow classmates for you.”
Minerva looked startled, but also thoughtful, at those words.
“Think about it. What do they get? What do they actually get out of the points?” Hera posed. “It’s not extra credit, nor a party. All it is is a cup that they don’t even get to keep, and the winning House banners at the end of the year feast.”*
AN: I can't find the origin for the 'Thoughts? And Prayers, you're going to need them'. Any time I try and search for it, well.....you can imagine lol
Second quote taken from Harriet Potter and Her Fifth Year As the Queens Spy by Maddalice13