Chapter 7
Seven days into October, two weeks after being turned away by Professor Aurelianus, Harry lies awake after yet another dream of the corridor. He is beginning to fall asleep in class, the type of sleep that only happens from pure exhaustion and so thankfully spared from the nightmares. Every other second, however, Harry is plagued with the images and sensations from his dreams. They feel so real it bleeds into his real life. Harry sighs to himself and gets up from bed, glaring at the accumulated sweat he goes straight for the shower.
Professor Aurelianus had expressed concern for the invasive nature of looking into his magic, but Harry can’t find it in himself to care. After some thought he’s sure now that the connection he has with Voldemort is what is blocking his magic and plaguing his dreams, if Professor Aurelianus can do anything about it, he’d let the Professor do just about anything. Never mind the fact that Harry is slowly starting to trust the Professor more than the Headmaster who still hasn’t so much as glanced his way.
Although, now that he has had some time to think it through, the concept of a Magic void seems rather daunting. The very thought bringing to mind memories of the cupboard under the stairs. When he leaves the shower, having used the ever present magic to dry his hair, Ron is up and ready for breakfast and he allows himself to smile at the sight of his yawning friend. He’ll ask Professor Aurelianus more about the Magic void after the remedial lessons, he decides and follows Ron out.
As they walk, Ron turns to him with a concerned look on his face. “Mate, I’m worried about you. You’re not sleeping well and you’ve started waking up early!”
“It’s nothing, Ron, I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Listen, Harry. Me and ‘Mione were thinking that maybe you need to talk to someone. I mean, you watched Cedric… And then you had to face You-Know-Who-”
“-Yeah, well, who should I talk to? Dumbledore avoids me and you can’t even bring yourself to say that Cedric died.”
Ron winced, bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his head awkwardly he mutters, “Snape.”
Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron cleared his throat.
“I mean… He’s a spy, yeah? He’s been handling all that on top of us dunderheads and I reckon… Well, I reckon he’s the only one other than you who’s seen You-Know-Who that’s on our side. He might be the only person who really understands what you are going through.”
“Snape?” Harry blinks to himself and then grimaces as his scar throbs. “I’ll think about, Ron. Just- no promises, yeah? I mean, It’s Snape.”
~~~~~~~
Harry is duelling with the copy of Professor Aurelianus while trying to defend his target buddy, when his scar throbs for the second time that day, causing him to drop his wand and pull on his hair in pain.
Among his peers, Harry is the only one who had fully mastered Protego and has now advanced to the next stage to prepare for learning simultaneous casting. The lessons bring Harry genuine joy, giving him the opportunity to grow and get stronger as well as release his frustrations from the dreams. Granted, he hasn’t managed to land a single scratch on the Professor and has had to watch his buddy be blown to smithereens far more than he’d like to, but despite it all, he’s grateful for the Professor.
“Is everything alright, Mr Potter.” The real Professor asks from behind him as Harry’s copy of the Professor melts into the ground.
“Fine, Professor. Just haven’t been sleeping all that well.”
Professor Aurelianus pursed his lips and nodded for him to follow him, the target buddy still loyally following them.
“Have you given what we discussed any thought, Mr Potter?”
They sit at the Professor's desk, where he had apparently used the time to mark the younger years essays.
“Yes, Professor. I was wondering what a Magic void entails and why that is needed, sir. It’s just - the name doesn’t sound very… friendly.”
Harry tilted his head when the Professor's head slightly drooped, “No, it doesn’t sound very friendly, does it? Unfortunately, Mr Potter, it’s because of me that a Magic void would even be necessary. You see, when I told you my sight was sensitive to magic I was underplaying it. To properly focus on you, we would need to be in that type of environment, otherwise, it’s possible I will be overwhelmed and unable to see you properly.”
Harry nodded to himself and watched as the Professor turned over his desk looking for something.
“I had thought you would come to me about Magic voids, so I took the liberty to find some papers about it for your perusal. Unfortunately, there isn’t much information about them available, but you should at least understand as much as you can about it.” He smiled triumphantly and passed Harry a simple black file folder. “Essentially - Magic voids are areas in which Magic does not exist, inside you and I will be unable to perform spells or do much of anything really. I’ve also included the ritual to make one, I imagine you might feel safer if you were involved in the process. This, of course, does not mean that we have to go through with it-”
“-I think I want to, Professor.” He said quickly, “I’ll read through all of this and prepare myself for the ritual, but I’d like to go through with it. Just… do you think we could do it in an open place with lots of light?”
The Professor smiled softly at him, “It will have to be indoors, but I know just the place. I will prepare for the ritual to be next week, after the remedial lessons. Please keep in mind that you can back out anytime before the ritual, I promise I will not be offended.”
Harry nodded and smiled back at the Professor hands clutching the folder tightly, glad when the Professor changes the subject, giving him tips about his duelling and finally giving the pouting target buddy attention.
~~~~~~~
Harry is staring bemusedly at the papers Professor Aurelianus had given him when he hears Ron and Hermione come into the classroom, Ron begging Hermione to help him with an assignment.
Despite Professor Aurelianus telling him there wasn’t much information available on Magic voids, he cant help but wonder if life is playing a joke on him as he reads through a scholar’s journal and an essay clearly biased against it. Neither one tells him anything more than what the Professor had already told him.
He’s rereading the essay, purely for the sake of humour when Hermione and Ron sit next to him, Hermione immediately curious about the paper in his hand.
“Professor Aurelianus gave them to me. I asked him about Magic Voids but these don’t really tell me anything.” He explains and easily passes over the paper when Hermione holds her hand out expectedly. “The essay refuses to believe such a thing as a Magic void exists, I wonder why the Professor gave it to me when he clearly knows they do exist.”
“I think it’s a good thing he gave you it, means he wants you to know both sides of the story.” Hermione says absentmindedly.
As she reads through the paper she widens her eyes when she sees a term she hadn’t been able to find in all her attempts in the library.
“However, the most egregious transgression in this work lies in the uncritical acceptance of the so-called Old Religion. The author, in an alarming display of intellectual naivety, attributes the quelling of Magic Voids to practitioners purportedly bound by this obscure and likely fictitious tradition. The employment of terms such as "ancient rituals" and "secret incantations" introduces an air of mysticism that appears more suited to the pages of a magical romance novel than a reputable academic treatise.”
She thinks back to her conversation with Professor Snape which was the first and only other time she’d come across the ‘Old religion’. It seems it’s not only her who was unable to find anything about the Old Religion if this essay was true, and perhaps in someone’s world it is the truth. She carries on reading and her suspicions are answered.
“The absence of empirical evidence, reliance on dubious sources, and the unquestioning acceptance of magical realms bereft of magic cast a long shadow over the scholarly integrity of the work. It prompts a crucial question: Is this treatise a genuine academic endeavour or, rather, an indulgence in the whimsical realms of literary escapism? As a devoted academician, I incline towards the latter.”
Perhaps if she hadn’t heard Professor Snape say it himself, she too would have thought the Old Religion was nothing more than ‘an indulgence in the whimsical realms of literary escapism.’
She reaches out and plucks the other paper from Harry, who was showing it to Ron. Ron didn’t seem to notice that the paper was no longer in front of him, instead he had a peculiar expression on his face, as if he was trying to remember something he had forgotten.
The Scholars journal did seem a little romantic for her tastes, with more theories and rumours stated than a comprehensive study, but she is more forgiving than the author of the essay with what she now knows.
Within the sacred confines of these magical voids, the quintessence of magic takes a resolute leave, creating a paradoxical environment where the very essence defining our existence seems conspicuously absent. Here, incantations falter into silence, enchanted artefacts lose their lustre, and magical entities find themselves stripped of their supernatural essence. It is an abyss where the arcane recoils, elusive and defiant, evoking a sense of awe and trepidation.
At the very least, the Scholar is able to describe what a Magic void is and is accurate if what Harry is telling Ron is right. Finally after reading through all the speculation she once again comes across the mentions of the Old Religion, hoping to finally understand what Professor Snape had said she carefully reads over the words in her head, tuning out Harry asking Ron if he was okay.
In the annals of history, a pivotal epoch unfolds when Magic Voids posed a veritable existential threat to the magical world. It was then that individuals, bound by a profound connection to the Old Religion, intervened. Through ancient rituals and secret incantations, they quelled the unruly expansion of these voids, safeguarding the fragile equilibrium of our magical realms. The Old Religion emerged as the stalwart custodian of the mystical order.
Yet, the irony remains—a tantalising whisper of truth dances just beyond my reach. The knowledge, the intricate rituals safeguarded by the practitioners of the Old Religion, elude my grasp like ephemeral wisps of magic. In the sacred precincts of my sanctum, I find myself a prisoner of ignorance, yearning for the keys to unlock the secrets hidden within the Old Religion's cryptic lore.
As my quill lays bare the ardour of my scholarly pursuit, I am left with a profound lament—the realisation that, despite my tireless efforts, the intimate connection to the Old Religion, the very conduit to comprehending and manipulating these arcane anomalies, eludes me. My quest, a tragic minuet in the grand ballet of magical inquiry, leaves me at the precipice of understanding, gazing longingly into the abyss of what could have been.
Romantic prose aside, it certainly explains why she had been unable to find anything about the Old Religion. Especially considering, those of the Old Religion were guarding knowledge from being used against them.
Furthermore, it makes sense if only those of the Old Religion can use the knowledge anyway, curious she asks, “So, Professor Aurelianus practises the Old Religion too, then?”
“Yes. Or, well, he practises Elemental Magic, which Martin more or less implied was at least a part of the Old Religion. Wait - ‘too’?”
“I have it on good authority that Martin himself practises the Old Religion,” She says, avoiding mentioning anything about what Professor Snape had to say, Harry mutters something like ‘I suppose he does understand after all’ but before she could ask about that or about Elemental Magic, Ron shoots up and yells-
“I knew I remembered it from somewhere!”
Around them, the attention quickly turns to him, Ron awkwardly waving apologetically and sitting down, his face burning the same colour as his hair.
He leans closer into them and whispers, eyes hard, “back when we were younger, every time we got into trouble, Mum would warn us off with tales about the Guardian.”
“Guardian?”
“Guardian of what?”
Harry and Hermione both ask.
“Just the Guardian.” Ron shrugged, “ One of the tales she’d tell us includes Magic voids, it’s where I remember hearing it. You see, You-Know-Who is definitely one of the worst Dark Lords we’ve ever had, but he’s not the first by far.
Long ago, there was a different Dark Lord who had a craving to own magic itself. Wanted it to bend to his every whim. So, he starts threatening magic, that if it doesn't obey, he'd snuff it out entirely.
Here’s where the Guardian comes in, I guess you could say he’s the Guardian of knowledge, because he knew the secrets of magical voids—places where magic shied away and spells fell into a deadly silence. The Guardian saw the dark lord's ambition and locked away all the secrets of these voids.
But the dark lord hears whispers of the Keeper's secrets. Wants to own them, so he goes after this ancient vault, reckonin' he can control the untamed magic within.
The dark lord faces off with the Guardian, even tries to push the Guardian into a void. Shadows clash, and the Guardian tells him, 'Magic ain't a pet to be owned. It's wild, untamed.' And you know what? The magic rebels against the dark lord's ownership. He disappears into the abyss he wanted to control, never to be seen again.
Magic voids might sound all mysterious and tempting, but they're not to be trifled with. So be careful mate, I trust the Professor, but just make sure you really understand what your getting into.”
The trio sat in silence, thinking over everything they seen and heard.
Harry nodded decisively, “I’m going to do it.”
They nodded not asking him to explain, content with letting him decide for himself.
Hermione sat back as Ron and Harry went different ways, answering her own question she muses, she rather thought of the mysterious figure as the Guardian of the Old Religion.
~~~~~~~
Later, Harry is out after sending Sirius a letter when he sees the mysterious creature again. He bypasses Hagrid’s hut and follows the creature curiously, remembering how only he and Luna had been able to see it.
As he follows behind it he soon sees Luna standing alone.
“Hello, Harry Potter.” She says, somehow knowing it was him even before he stood next to her.
“Your feet - aren’t they cold?” He asks her, listening absentmindedly as she explains her theories behind her shoes disappearance, keeping most of his attention on the creatures before them.
“What are they?”
“They're called Thestrals. They’re quite gentle really but people avoid them because they’re a bit…”
“Different.” He finishes. He knows exactly what that feels like, although he supposes, so does she. “But why can’t the others see them?”
“They can only be seen by people who’ve seen death.” And this time, when he asks he pays attention when she tells him of her mother, solemn with their shared understanding
She then goes on to tell him that both her and her dad believe him, something he is grateful for as the others still don’t quite believe him no matter how hard he tries to explain. The prophet’s lies and their parents' paranoia claws deep in them.
“It seems you’re about the only ones that do.” He says.
“I don’t think that’s true.” She tosses a baby Thestral an apple, “but I suppose that’s how he wants you to feel.”
“What do you mean?” he questions, turning back to her as the Thestral rejects the apple.
“Well, if I were You-Know-Who, I’d want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Cause if it’s just you alone, you’re not as much of a threat.” She smiles at him and tosses a piece of raw meat to the Thestral who greedily gobbles it up and Harry is reminded that despite Luna Lovegood's tendency to stare of into space and live life in the clouds, she was a true Ravenclaw.
“Of course, that’s not going to work anymore, now that Emrys is here.” She starts walking back to the castle, uncaring for her bare feet as she walks on hard rocks and mud.
Harry blinks as she joins her, “Emrys? You mean Martin?”
“If that’s what he’s calling himself now.” She agrees.
“What does he have to do with it?”
“It won’t be long until the dragon wakes up to find You-Know-Who tickling it after all.”
~~~~~~~
As Martin and Severus are walking to the Great Hall for breakfast, Elliot joins them on the other side of Martin, sliding easily into their conversation and then starting one of his own when they turned to him.
“Emrys, do you recall what we talked of the other day?”
Severus raises an eyebrow but says nothing and Martin replies, “Yes. Has he decided, then?”
“He did, but I’m still going to leave the option free until the very last minute.”
“Good.”
“May we borrow the top of your tower for the ritual?”
“Of course, you needn’t ask, Elliot.” They smile at each other. “I know this is far from your first ritual, but are you prepared? We wouldn’t want any mistakes happening after all.”
“Ye-”
“-Pardon me, Professor, but what exactly are you insinuating?” Elliot is interrupted by the loud voice of someone they didn’t think they would see again.
“I am merely requesting that when it comes to my students, you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices.”
“So silly of me but it sounds as if you’re questioning my authority in what was my own classroom, Minerva.”
“Not at all, Delores. Merely your mediaeval methods.”
Martin squinted his eyes as he watched the two women, a crowd of students quickly gathering around them.
“I… I am sorry, dear, but to question my practices is to question the ministry, and by extension, the Minister himself. I am a tolerant woman but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty.”
“Disloyalty.” Minerva stepped down, taken aback by what she heard.
“Professor McGonagall, is everything alright?” Martin asked, startling the students who had crowded in front of them. The three of them immediately moved closer once the students parted for them, Severus, Martin and Elliot painting a formidable picture.
Despite the directed question, it was not Minerva who answered him, Umbridge instead turning to the crown and looking him straight in the eye, “Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared. Cornelius will want to take immediate action-”
“Severus, what’s that in your pocket?” Martin cut the woman off and Severus blinked down at him.
Suddenly having all the attention on him, Severus reached deep into his pockets, feeling for the jars of potions he keeps in there for emergencies. When he feels an extra jar, he furrows his eyebrows and brings it out.
“I agree, Madame. It seems to me that the Minister would wish to take immediate action.” Martin continues as Severus stares at the jar filled with a bright blue light. Martin nods for him to open it, “in fact, I think we should call him here, right this moment.”
The hallway is filled with gasps of awe as a swarm of glistening blue butterflies fluttered out of the jar, far too many for a jar that small. The biggest one came last, easily landing on Martin’s finger as the others put on a show for the students.
Martin brought the one on his finger closer to his face as if to whisper to it, he winked when he caught Severus staring. The butterfly then went gliding out the window, the other butterflies faithfully following behind it. As they left, Severus widened his eyes at the magical glow.
“Is… is that your Patronus?”
“What is a Patronus?”
“That is a Patronus, Emrys. Yes, it’s his Patronus.” Elliot sighed as he answered for Martin.
“Do you normally produce that many Patroni or is that Hogwarts?” Severus whispered, still staring at the window they had left from like everyone else.
“Is that not normal?” Martin turned to Elliot, “is that not normal?”
Elliot shrugged a shoulder casually, “I wouldn’t know, I learnt from you.”
From the corner of his eye Severus could see Martin turn to him and ask again. He shook his head wordlessly in response.
“Oh.” Martin breathed. “It was just Lady Hogwarts, then.” Everyone in the hallway turned to stare at him in disbelief at the robotic tone in his voice as he said it.
Elliot sighed again, “you never could tell a lie to save your life.”
Martin sniffed and pretended not to hear him, holding a palm up to stop Umbridge when she tried to intervene. Umbridge blinked at the hand, gasping at the audacity.
“As I was saying - I am prepared, yes.” Elliot continued the earlier conversation uncaring for the few students still around them, intently watching them as if they were acting out a drama scene. “But I was hoping you would cover my Friday lessons so I can go get all the necessary materials.”
Martin grumbled to himself, “no, I don’t want to, you were being mean to me.”
“Emrys.”
He clicked his tongue, “oh, very well.”
“Good, I have Friday afternoon off; perfect chance to bother you in one of your own lessons.” Severus said, having let go of the multiple Patroni knowing that Martin would tell him everything when he could.
Martin turned to pout at him but Severus carefully avoided the look.
Just then, stopping the students as they were finally turning away to eat their breakfast, the swarm of butterflies returned, the leader landing elegantly on Martin’s finger. They gaped as slowly the Minister of Magic was dropped from the hold of the swarm, the butterflies, including the one on Martin’s finger, disappearing afterwards.
Martin smiled at the sight of the Minister and stepped forward, hand stretched out in greeting which the dumbfounded Minister shook dutifully, still yet to comprehend what had just happened himself.
“Minister, thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“Ahh, yes, of course, Lord Emrys. Though, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see you immediately.”
“I’m sure we can have a proper meeting at a later date, my good sir, but you see, Hogwarts needed your presence immediately.”
“Minister!” Umbridge squeaked, having finally come out of her stupor.
“Delores!”
“Exactly.” Martin interrupted Umbridge again though he did not know it. “I would hate to ban Ms Umbridge from Hogwarts’ wards, as Hogwarts was once her home too, and yet, she is slowly pushing me to do just that. The last time we spoke, I asked her not to return like this again. Today, I find her attempting to control Hogwarts yet again. Now, as I understand it, a problem with her, is a problem with the Ministry, and by extension, the Minister himself.”
Umbridge’s face was slowly paling as the Minister turned to look at her incredulously.
“Do we have a problem, Minister?”
The Minister turned back to Martin at the question, eyes moving rapidly as he tried to work out a solution, “Perhaps as just the High Inquisitor-”
“The Ministry holds no authority over Hogwarts, Sir. Do we have a problem?”
The Minister gulped as he looked into Martin’s cold eyes, “No, Lord Emrys.”
Martin gave a shallow nod, “You’ll forgive me if I do not show the both of you the way out, of course. We are running late for breakfast.” He began to turn and usher the students and Professors into the Great Hall, turning just his head back he said, “As for our meeting; Saturday, half past two will suffice, yes?”
The Minister nodded his head and the two Ministry officials were left to stand alone in the hallway.
~~~~~~~
Hermione watched as the Professors Snape and Aurelianus walked in behind them, Martin behind them with a tense smile that softened when they turned to gape at him.
“Do that again!” Professor Aurelianus said as he walked backwards and though Hermione could not see it, she imagined a bright grin on his face.
Watching Professor Aurelianus walking backwards, Professor Snape quickly turned around, a rare smile on his face as he fondly guided the other Professor to not walk into anything. Martin smiled at the sight and gently reached out, carding his fingers through Professor Aurelianus’ hair and tucking it in neatly, “You really should brush your hair more often. You never know what you might find in it otherwise.” He pulled out another butterfly from behind the Professor’s ear.
The Professor loudly giggled as the trio finally passed Hermione on their way to the staff table, completely oblivious that they currently held their attention.
“It is my favourite spell, have I said? It was the first spell that came to mind when I was checking if I got my magic back all those years ago.” Martin confessed.
“Have you blocked your magic before? I don’t remember you ever telling me this before.” Professor Aurelianus tilted his head as Professor Snape silently glared at a seventh year to move out of their way.
“No. That time it was stolen from me, ‘Gana was trying to stop me from helping a friend, but even after she stole my magic, she still could not face me properly.” Martin smiled ruefully.
“The Woman who raised Aithusa?”
“Aye.”
Something about the conversation she heard nagged at her, as she stood there trying to make sense of it, Ron and Harry came up either side of her.
“Don’t they look a bit like a family?” Harry questioned with a wistful voice, “Professor Aurelianus, the hyper and curious kid with lots of questions about the world.”
“Martin is obviously the father, fondly and patiently answering every little question.” Hermione stated, her own father popping into mind.
“Snape is totally the exasperated mother, dragging the ‘idiots’ along.” Ron shivered as he thought of his mother before looking horrified at what he just said, “Merlin’s bollocks but I can’t unsee it!”
They looked at each other before laughing loudly, the other students staring at them as if they’d lost their mind.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to ever look at any of them in the eye!” Harry gasped out, barely able to speak through the laughter.
~~~~~~~
Friday afternoon, Harry’s DADA class yet again waited outside a door, anticipation thick in the air. Inside, they could see Martin laughing with the seventh years at Fred and George’s antics.
“Does he not know that that class has ended?” Harry flinched as a deep voice suddenly came from behind him, turning he gaped at Professor Snape who simply arched a brow at them.
Professor Snape strode to the door and knocked with the knuckle of his middle finger pushing the door open easily after, “Professor Emrys, we are waiting for our lesson most eagerly.”
Martin - no, Professor Emrys - rolled his eyes and turned back to his class, thanking them with a bow and dismissing them. He came up behind them and leaned on the doorway blocking Snape’s entry. “Well then, Mr Snape. Let my first lesson to you be on the art of patience; it’s a virtue, you know.”
“Good luck with that, Professor. I’m not known to have many virtues.” Snape said with a teasing grin, his face angled slightly closer to Professor Emrys’
“Oh, you’ll have them by the time I’m done with you.”
Hermione cleared her throat to get their attention, her face flushed. They turned to them, not even moving away slightly as they took in the snickering and red faces of the students.
“Come in, then, you lot. If I cared about houses, I’d take one point off Slytherin for a lack of patience and delaying class time.”
Snape gave a mock two fingered salute as he walked in after them, a smirk plastered on his face, “I’ll do my best to make it up to you, Professor.”
Despite what he said, Severus was a quiet spectator at the back of the classroom. Content with watching Martin teach the theory about counter curses, obviously taking a more conversational presentation style than a more traditional lecture type. Severus normally reserved such teaching methods to NEWT level students, but this seemed to work with Martin’s style.
“Counter curses are much harder to perform than curses, does anyone have any guesses why?”
The class blinked, their textbooks didn’t go into detail why and only talked about the historical uses of counter curses, what they were and how to use them.
“Professor Aurelianus once explained that it is always more difficult to protect than to harm - the same could be said about counter curses; they would be more difficult because each curse requires specific and precise counters.” Granger started.
“As well as the necessary precision, a counter curse also applies to any effects caused by the curse and so needs more energy to achieve.” Zabini continued.
Like this the class continued, often delving into debate about why counter curses work the way they do and what should e considered when creating one.
Severus heaved a sigh in the privacy of his mental wards, such a lesson like this would have been useful when he created Sectumsempra.
Suddenly, when the classroom had silenced as the students worked on a worksheet, a pop broke through the student’s concentration.
“Harvey!”
The students blinked at the appearance of the house elf - dubbed Harvey by Professor Emrys - who was holding a letter on a tray.
Bizarrely, the house elf was wearing clothes of impeccable quality and style. What shocked them even more, however, was the way Professor Emrys and the elf began to converse.
“Emrys.”
“Is that for me?” Professor Emrys pointed at the letter.
“Well, it was addressed to Lord Emrys and unfortunately, that’s still you.” The elf smirked up at the Professor who pouted exaggeratedly back.
“I’m going to tell Harley you’re being mean to me again.”
“Not if I get to him first, I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to hear you were the one who messed with his beautiful flower arrangements.” The elf tapped his finger against his chin and shook his head, as if imagining the events playing out.
“Messed with!” Emrys gasped, “I’ll have you know, I’m a professional!”
“Be sure to tell him that when he hangs you by your ankle.”
The elf passed the letter to the Professor who groaned when he saw the seal.
“The ministry of Magic.” He drawled, “it’s not to reschedule tomorrow’s meeting, is it?”
“Perhaps if you open the letter? If you’ve forgotten how, I suggest breaking the seal first.”
Emrys side eyed his elf, “where is Harley anyway, normally he is the one who handles things like this.” He said, as he broke the seal and read the letter that floated out.
“Fixing his flower arrangements.” Harvey snorted before correcting himself, “I don’t exactly know what he’s doing, but he’s much too restless to appear appropriately in front of your temporary students, so I offered my assistance.”
Emrys hummed before rolling his eyes, “the Minister must think me a simpleton.”
“I most sympathetically agree with his assessment.” The elf sighed.
Emrys continued on as if he didn’t hear his elf, “he sent me an invite to the meeting I, myself, scheduled as if I’d forget it.”
“True, it’s not like you’ve got anything else going on.”
“And look here! He apparently wants to remind me that he’s the Minister and might not have much time to sit with me.”
The elf blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, “is he really not aware of what it means to have a meeting with you?”
Emrys batted the floating letter away and threw his arms in the air, “apparently not!”
The elf tutted, “no respect for the elderly these days.”
“You’re wearing clothes!” Hermione said, making the two stare at her.
“Mother, Maiden and Crone!” The elf huffed, “I should have let Harley come after all. Of course, I’m wearing clothes, young Miss! I am an Emrys elf.”
“Even though he freed you?” Hermione gaped.
The elf and Professor shared a glance and the elf turned back to her, “freed me?”
“Oh shut it with your Mudblood ideals, Granger.” Malfoy snarked, Hermione turned to glare at him, words dying in her throat as she caught sight of the dark fury at the back of the classroom
“Fuck off, Malfoy, or else-” Ron started before he was silenced by a hard slam as Professor Snape shot up from his seat, uncaring for the chair he had broken he stalked to the front of the classroom.
Emrys stayed still, eyes moving rapidly as he observed the situation.
“How Fascinating, Mr Malfoy, that you seem to be rather forgetful today. Both my presence here and the Slytherin welcome speech somehow completely slipping your mind.” Professor Snape whispered, loud in the silence as it often is. “Your parents, I’m sure, will be most thankful to hear about this now, before you forget anything of more importance; like your manner, for one.”
“I- I’m sorry, Profe-” Malfoy gulped.
“I’ve no need for your pathetic excuse of an apology, Mr Malfoy.”
“Granger. I’m sorry for calling you a Mu- for calling you that.”
Hermione silently turned back to her work without acknowledging Malfoy's words, when Professor Emrys knelt in front of her table.
“Mr Weasley, Saturday detention for your language.” Snape spat and sat in Emrys’ seat.
Professor Emrys smiled understandingly and cleared his throat, “Her- Miss Granger, I was wondering if you could explain more on what you meant when you were shocked to see Harvey wearing clothes?”
“Yes, sir, of course!” Throughout Hermione's explanation of house elf mistreatment and the shock and disgust she felt, Emrys was as still as a statue, eyes cold and hard.
“I see.” He said, drumming his fingers on her desk before standing tall. “Do you have more notes and evidence of this in writing, Miss Granger?”
Hermione jumped to pull out a stack of parchment from her bag holding it out for Emrys who thumbed through the sheets.
“S.P.E.W?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare.” Hermione said with a small smile, happy Professor Emrys at least respected her acronym.
“This is the original?” She nodded in response to her question and received a nod back.
Without looking up from the papers Emrys asked Lady Hogwarts to make two copies, Emrys then handed the original back to her.
“Where do you see yourself going with this society, Miss Granger? How serious are you?” He asked her, looking right into her eyes.
“Extremely serious, sir. A lot of people don’t want to hear what I have to say but I will do everything I can to help the elves.” She straightened her back and spoke clearly.
“You clearly know more than me on this subject, Miss Granger, something I will be changing, I assure you.” He tapped a finger against one copy to prove his point, “therefore, I will clear it with the Headmaster to allow you to accompany me to tomorrow’s meeting with the Minister, do you think you are ready to pitch your ideas?” He tapped the other copy and smiled at Hermione’s reaction.
“Me, sir? Speak to the Minister of Magic about this?” She said breathily after finally closing her dropped jaw.
“It was all your hard work after all, Miss Granger. What’s more, your ideas have merit, and it is in my personal interest that you succeed in this. So, please, allow me to provide you with a stage and my name.”
Hermione beamed and readily accepted.