Coven

The smallest drop of water can create a ripple in the ocean, and every ripple in the ocean can create a wave, and every wave may become a tsunami.

So how much of a story could a small ripple change?

As it turns out, a small ripple could change a lot.

I’m sure if you’re reading this then you heard the story of Harry Potter. The story of the orphaned wizard who lived in the cupboard under the stairs and raised by his magic hating relatives. The story of the boy who was marked as the equal of the Dark Lord and who had trouble trusting adults.

The story of the savior of the wizarding world and the many adventures he had. The many adventures that a child shouldn’t have to face. Adventures that included a Philosopher’s Stone, a Chamber of Secrets, a Prisoner of Azkaban, a Goblet of Fire, a Half-blood Prince, and of course, adventures that involved the Deathly Hallows.

But how much would the story change if there was a single ripple?

Our story begins on a particularly chilly night in London on May 5th 1991. 

A lone figure had walked into The Leaky Cauldron, a not so ordinary pub that occupied not so ordinary patrons.

The newest occupant of the pub, an elderly gentleman with a long white beard, half moon glasses, purple robes and a very long crooked nose, carefully surveyed his surroundings, looking for a sign of his companion for the night.

Carefully looking over every occupant twice, the elderly gentleman finally caught sight of a woman in her mid thirties to early forties at the far back of the pub with curled auburn hair that was streaked with honey blonde.

With a grandfatherly smile on his face, Albus Dumbledore made a quick stop to get a Butterbeer from the bartender before making his way over to the woman, who was nursing a glass of fire whiskey. 

“Ah, Ms. Evermoore.” The aging wizard greeted kindly. 

Electric blue eyes rose from the glass in the woman’s hand. “Chief Warlock.” The woman greeted with a subtle Irish accent and a slight nod before gesturing to the seat opposite her. “Please, have a seat.”

The aging headmaster complied with a small smile. Ruefully, thinking back on the woman’s time at Hogwarts.

Young Anya Evermoore had been a bright witch who quickly became a talented duelist and quidditch player. She would have been a joy in any of the four houses of Hogwarts, however, the sorting hat had placed the young witch in Slytherin. 

Such a shame, the old headmaster thought before his eyes landed on the two bottles- one of fire whiskey and the other elven wine. Worriedly, he turned to his former student. 

“I was unsure which you would have preferred.” Ms. Evermoore shrugged. “So I decided to get both.”

“Ah.” Professor Dumbledore said in understanding. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Anya.” Anya nodded once more, taking a small sip of her fire whiskey as Albus continued. “Alas, I believe I shall stick with a nice cold glass of Butterbeer.”

Anya simply shrugged as she placed her glass down and stared expectantly at her old headmaster who had just taken a sip of his own drink.

“It’s lovely to see you again Ms. Evermoore.” Professor Dumbledore began with a joyful twinkle in his eyes. “Why, I’m afraid I can’t remember when the last time I spoke to you was!”

Anya lowered her head slightly. “Outside of the Wizengamont? I believe it was at the funeral, Headmaster.”

Those words sombered the joyful headmaster and all too quickly he suddenly remembered the last time he saw Anya Evermoore. 

“I believe that was the last time we had a conversation, yes.” Professor Dumbledore responded ruefully. There was no need to ask which funeral she was talking about. “How have you been coping my dear?”

Anya’s breath hitched before her eyes narrowed slightly at her former headmaster. “It has been nearly ten years, Professor. Let’s cut to the chase, yeah? Why have you called me here?”

Dumbledore didn’t seem surprised by Anya’s reaction as he simply sighed, nodded his head and put up a privacy barrier so no one would hear them. 

“You see my dear, I am looking for a new Defense Professor.” He had begun, a twinkle once again appearing in his eyes. “I had thought- or rather hoped- that with your past Auror experience, perhaps you would be interested…?” He had left the ending of his question hanging in hope that Anya would consider it. 

Anya simply raised her glass of fire whiskey and took a long sip, taking in the hopeful look on Professor Dumbledore’s face. Swallowing her drink, Anya let out a sigh as she placed down her glass.

“I had thought,” Anya began tentatively. “That it was common knowledge that the Defense Against The Dark Arts position was cursed by now.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore began in mild amusement. “It has certainly been speculated, but alas, there has been no proof.”

“Your last professor got attacked by an acromantula…” Anya deadpanned. “The one before that fell off his broom, and the one before that….well everyone remembers what happened to Aegis Crane, it was on the front page of the Daily Prophet for weeks.”

“Aegis was quite a joy.” Dumbledore sullenly replied and both bowed their heads slightly as if to respect his memory. “I hear dear Rhoda made a large donation to St. Mungos in his name.”

Anya blinked at her former headmaster before her face once again fell into a deadpan stare. They had gotten off track, something that seemed to be a common occurrence when in the presence of Albus Dumbledore.

“Besides Headmaster,” Anya began, steering them back to the matter at hand. “Isn’t it a little too far into the school year to be looking for a new Defense professor? There is barely a quarter left until summer. Did something already happen to your latest DADA Professor?”

Dumbledore seemed hesitant to respond, his hand running through a small portion of his very long beard. “Well ... .you see my dear…..Professor Beetlewood…while perfectly fine, has had a bit of trouble with some second year pranksters. It was all in a bit of fun, and quite harmless, really...”

Anya narrowed her eyes at Dumbledore skeptically before leaning across the table. “Chester Beetlewood is as much a killjoy as the Wizengamonts wonderful-!” She spat sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. “-madam Umbridge. However, I find it hard to believe he would quit over a harmless prank.”

Chester Beetlewood had been a substitute teacher back in the early sixties when Anya was a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and she could remember all too well what kind of teacher he was.

A joyless being that loved to suck the fun out of everyone around him, whether it be by being a killjoy or a bully.

A harmless prank would have resulted in nothing more than negative points that ensured your house had not an inkling of a chance at winning the house cup.

Topped with several detentions for the guilty party.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat. “While the prank was harmless,” the esteemed headmaster assured. “In his anger, he may have taken a bit of a fall down some stairs.”

Anya blinked at Dumbledore before sitting back in her seat, a look of amusement in her eyes and biting her lip to hold back her laughter. 

She could easily imagine the reaction that led him to fall down some stairs. A reaction she, herself had seen on his face after she retaliated on behalf of one of her friends who had became Beetlewood’s favorite target at the time.

“I imagine he deserved it.” Anya responded, a grin dawning her face for a moment.

Dumbledore was amused at Anya’s response but quickly cleared his throat. “Yes, well, whether he did or not, I’m afraid it would be imprudent of me to say.”

Anya nodded, grin disappearing with a shake of her head. “Of course.”

“However,” Dumbledore chuckled. “I imagine it reminded him of back when you were a student. You and your friends were quite the pranksters when you wanted to be.”

Anya’s lip twitched slightly. “Yes well, we had quite a few bright minds.”

“The brightest if I remember correctly.” Albus praised remembering Anya’s friends, before his expression sombered again. “A shame really, what happened to-“

“Pardon the interruption professor,” Anya cut in cooly, with a face of stone. “However, I do believe we got off topic.”

Albus looked sadly at his former student, there was a splinter of pain in her eyes that disappeared unnaturally quick. 

It seems this current topic was close to poking a cauldron of Flobberworms that was best left unbothered. However, Albus mused, her response easily reminded him of a similar reaction he himself once had when topics diverted to a former lover of his. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “My apologies, It seems we have.”

“As I had said earlier, I was under the impression that the DADA position was cursed. Why should I accept a job that will only lead to me being injured or worse?” Anya asked rhetorically.

Dumbledore’s face showed a mild look of excitement as a slight. “Ah.” Escaped him before his lips twitched. “Well, I have devised a bit of an….. insurance policy…. if you will.”

Anya’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity as she reached out for her glass of fire whiskey. Taking a sip, she silently beckoned for the elderly wizard to continue.

“Truthfully, what I’m asking of you is to become the secondary Defense Against The Dark Arts professor.” Dumbledore said as he ran a hand along his very long beard.

Taking a sharp inhale mid sip, Anya choked on her fire whiskey, her windpipe burning as she placed the glass back on the table. Surely, if any Pure Blooded Witch or Wizard would have seen her, they certainly would have scoffed at her lack of decorum.  

Ignoring Dumbledore’s worried look, she composed herself the best she could while coughing and reaching behind the two bottles of alcohol, grabbed a glass of water. 

She sipped the cool liquid slowly in an attempt to relieve the burning sensation in her throat and once it had passed, she took a moment to compose herself before questioning. “Secondary?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Secondary.” He agreed, taking a sip of his butterbeer as he allowed the word to float through the air. “Potentially permanent in fact..”

Anya was flabbergasted, as evident in her tone as she asked. “How on earth could you possibly be able to pull that off?” 

A thoughtful look appeared on the esteemed headmaster's face as he took another sip of his butterbeer. “As you know, none of Hogwarts’ Defense Teachers have been able to hold the position for more than a year.” He said as he placed his glass back down. Pausing slightly, Dumbledore waited for Anya’s nod before continuing. “Now, this is merely a theory that I have, however, since this..” Pausing slightly to find the right word, Dumbledore took the moment to collect his thoughts. ‘...jinx, if you will…has been in effect, Hogwarts has only accepted single applicants.” Seeing Anya’s confusion, Dumbledore clarified. “Traditionally, Hogwarts has had at minimum two professors per a subject- something you may remember from your time at the school..?”

It took her a minute, but Anya did remember. While she was one of the rare cases that had the same professor their entire seven years, she remembered a few cases where students switched between two or three different professors each year, which she voiced to the headmaster. 

“Yes, well, I was thinking.” Dumbledore continued with a soft smile. “What if I tried hiring two professors? Perhaps then-!” Anya cut him off.

“Perhaps then, the first professor would be the target of the jinx and the second could continue teaching.” Anya deduced and Dumbledore seemed slightly uncomfortable by the way she phrased it.

Coughing slightly, Dumbledore corrected her. “Then the jinx may get confused and stop working.”

Anya raised a brow as she finished off her Fire Whiskey. “Why Professor Dumbledore, surely you know that the only way for that to happen would be if one of the two professors became a target for the jinx.” She replied sarcastically. “And I’m not too keen on getting jinxed.”

“You would be the second applicant,” Dumbledore tried to reassure. “Quirinus Quirrell has already requested to take over the position.”

“Quirrell, huh?” Anya mused, trying to remember the name.

The name sounded familiar but all that was coming to mind was when her cousin mentioned a boy who had a fascination with the subject of Defense Against The Dark Arts.

“Our current Muggle Studies professor.” Dumbledore clarified. 

Anya hummed as she glanced at the watch on her wrist. Eyes widening slightly, Anya shook her head and removed a charm from the bracelet on her wrist. “Goodness, is it that time already?” She murmured. 

Using her wand to enlarge it to the size of a normal bag, she placed both the whiskey and wine inside before reversing her previous movements, shrinking the bag and placing it back onto her bracelet. 

Anya stood up from the booth and gave Dumbledore a slight bow. “I’ll think it over and send you a response by owl.”  Anya said, turning around and getting ready to leave.

But of course, Dumbledore had to have the last word.

“I believe your godson is expected to join the new class of first years, is he not?” Dumbledore rhetorically asked with a gleam in his eyes. “Wouldn't it be wonderful for him to have his godmother as a professor?”

Anya briefly halted mid-step, glancing back at Dumbledore with a blank look before continuing on her way without a word.