Ch. 4
When they returned to Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall was waiting angrily.
"You disappeared, Albus!" she glared. "I've had to entertain Remus and his questions, at least four owls—" As she said this, a mass of feathers fluttered past the window. "—five owls, from the Ministry, not to mention Rita Skeeter showed up with that photographer of hers — I thought Poppy was going to murder her when she tried to get into the Hospital Wing, and I've had to explain this ordeal to not only all the staff but the student body as well; there were rumours circulating that Potter was dead, and then that you were dead, when you didn't appear at breakfast, and then that Black got eaten by a werewolf before he could be Kissed, and then Severus let slip about Remus's condition, and he's resigned! How irresponsible can you be, Albus?!"
"This, Minerva," Dumbledore said, putting his hands on Lucy's shoulders, "is your newest Gryffindor."
"Don't change the subject, Albus."
"Well, the subject is my absence. I was away, with Miss Pevensie, arranging for her to attend. She now has a wand and uniform and all the books."
"It's the end of term, Albus! We've already had exams!"
"And you will tutor her until we've established her abilities and knowledge level."
McGonagall threw her hands up.
"Then you're going to start doing your own paperwork, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said, jabbing her finger at his chest with each name. "I will tutor Miss Pevensie, in addition to my regular duties, and you will no longer delegate your documents to my desk."
"It's a deal," the Headmaster said easily.
"And you have to talk with Lupin, Skeeter, Fudge, Potter, and Snape now."
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
"Come along, now," Professor McGonagall said sweetly.
Dumbledore, and then Lucy, followed the woman out of his office and down to what Lucy assumed was the Great Hall.
It was a vast room, lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where several hundred students were sitting. These tables were laid with bicoloured runners; silver and green, bronze and blue, black and yellow, and finally red and gold. At the top of the hall was another long table where the staff were sitting; Lucy recognised the imposing black-robed figure from the previous evening in the hospital wing; Severus Snape. Also sitting at the table, looking vaguely out of place amongst the teachers, was Bowler Hat, looking nearly as exhausted as Lucy felt, and Poppy, the nurse, hovered by, not sitting but rather scanning the students as if to make sure none of them collapsed. Then, Lucy realised her gaze and demeanour were not directed at the students but rather at a pale man in shabby robes, whose gaze was fixed on Dumbledore as if the man were air and he was drowning.
Speaking of students, Lucy suddenly felt hundreds of faces staring at her, Dumbledore, and McGonagall as they entered. McGonagall touched her arm and pointed her towards the red and gold table; so, feeling particularly foolish for no reason at all, Lucy strode over to the far left table and took a seat at the end.
Dumbledore and McGonagall continued up the hall to take their seats at the table.
To avoid the curious gazes of her new classmates, Lucy pretended to continue to take in the hall. She glanced up at the ceiling. It, for some reason, did not appear to be a ceiling but rather the sky above. She frowned.
Across the hall, Dumbledore cleared his throat.
Lucy's gaze snapped directly to the Headmaster.
He was standing, preparing to make a speech. All the whispers seemed to cease.
"As many of you have already heard," he began, in a humorous voice, "to varying degrees of truthfulness...Sirius Black was apprehended last night."
The whispers started again.
"However," Dumbledore continued, raising his voice, "so was another man, who had been previously considered dead. Last night, Peter Pettigrew was apprehended."
The whispers increased. Urgently. Peter Pettigrew, he said?
"Upon further investigation, it was discovered that Sirius Black was falsely accused of crimes, the majority of which were in fact committed by his framer, Pettigrew. At midnight, Madam Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrested Pettigrew and in the early hours of the morning, Sirius Black was officially cleared of wrongdoing and checked into St. Mungo's for rehabilitation. You will have noticed that the Dementors are no longer guarding our school; they will not return."
Dumbledore seemed to smile at the hundreds of shocked faces.
"In happier news," he continued, "we have a new student in Gryffindor House; Miss Lucy Pevensie. I want you all to treat her with respect and kindness, as is the spirit of our grand school. She will be attending the occasional lecture in addition to her private studies under Professor McGonagall."
Lucy glanced awkwardly at the table as a thousand eyes turned to her.
"As is the nature of sensational news, I understand that rumours will develop from today and some will prosper, no matter their truthfulness, but I want to reiterate. Sirius Black was found to be falsely accused of his crimes. Peter Pettigrew, the long-thought dead victim of the aforementioned Sirius Black, is now in custody for homicide, accessory to murder, terrorism, treason, and, I think, tax evasion."
There was a chuckle at this.
"The Dementors have been removed from their posts and returned to Azkaban Prison. Generally speaking, all is well. Or, at least, all's well that ends well."
He sat down.
McGonagall cleared her throat, glaring, and gestured at the pale man.
Dumbledore sighed and stood up again.
"It has been brought to my attention that a particular condition of a particular professor's has been rather abruptly dislosed."
There was a general nodding and Lucy glanced, confusedly, at the students around her. Upon noticing her confusion, the girl across the table leaned in.
"Professor Lupin," she explained quietly, "is a werewolf. Snape let it slip this morning."
Lucy frowned. There weren't werewolves in Narnia.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Well," the girl tilted her head, "he's not a bad guy — in fact, he's probably one of the best professors we have — but werewolves are...violent. Very violent. Like, kill you and possibly eat you type violent."
"And there's nothing they can do about that?"
"Well, there's this potion...but a lycanthrope doesn't control the transformation. So if they miss the potion, no. Nothing they can do."
Lucy winced.
"I'm Lucy, by the way," she said. "Lucy Pevensie."
"I know," the girl said, eyes twinkling. "Dumbledore said."
"Right. Yeah."
"Ginny Weasley."
"Nice to meet you, Ginny."
"Yeah."
Dumbledore was talking again. "—was considered when I hired him, and I would do it again. Professor Lupin has made the decision to resign but I do not want any of you, even for a moment, thinking that it was due to internal pressure, or that it was the inherently right choice, because you have all learned from him. There is a prejudice that permeates our society and unfortunately our school, and that prejudice has lead to Hogwarts losing possibly the most inspiring Defence professor we have had in over twenty years. I hired Professor Lupin because he is a brilliantly talented wizard and was a singularly gifted student. I want you to leave this castle with the memory of his classes and the knowledge that you have witnessed a truly wonderful professor. With that said, I'd like a round of applause for Professor Lupin."
After a brief hesitation, the Gryffindor table stood with applause. It spread to the yellow table, then the blue one, and then, finally, haltingly, to the green table.
At the Head Table, Snape's mouth twisted into disgust.
The last clappers, Lucy recognised, were Harry Potter and his friends — two of which had been in the Hospital Wing the previous night.
When everyone had sat down, Lupin surreptitiously wiped a tear.
"And," Dumbledore said brightly, "I think that's it. Off to class, now!"
Lucy froze as everyone around her stood and began to stream towards the doors. As she was about to follow the rest of her house and figure out where to go from there, the three students from the Hospital Wing approached.
For a moment, none of them said anything. Then, the girl offered an apologetic smile.
"Lucy Pevensie, right?" she said. "I'm Hermione Granger."
Lucy nodded.
"We kind of met last night," Hermione continued, "in the—"
"Hospital Wing. Yeah."
The redhead frowned. "I missed everything," he complained.
"I still don't know how you slept through all that," Harry said honestly.
"It's a skill," his friend replied glumly.
"This is Ron," Hermione explained, gesturing at the redhead. "He was in the Hospital last night, too, but he was unconscious. And you've met Harry."
Lucy nodded.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Gryffindor's the best House," Ron rushed out suddenly, a blatant attempt to ease the awkwardness. "We can show you where the Common Room is."
So Lucy joined the trio and they set off for a part of the castle she'd never seen before.
If she had turned around, she would've seen Professor McGonagall smiling approvingly.
...
"But what happened?" Lupin asked, his voice an embarrassingly plead. Dumbledore was turned away from him, towards McGonagall, and the rest of the professors were drifting off in their separate directions.
Dumbledore hesitated.
McGonagall, who'd always pitied him despite his best efforts to persuade her not to, glanced at the Headmaster, then at him.
"It's an interesting story," Dumbledore said after a moment.
So tell me then, Lupin wanted to scream.
He remembered Dumbledore could read minds only when the man smiled.
"It's a long story," the Headmaster said. "I understand your carriage is already here?"
"Albus," McGonagall said sharply.
Remus remembered when the most important conversation he'd ever had with these two was over detention.
"What happened?" he tried once again, "Is Peter going to be charged? Is Sirius really free? What—"
"Mr. Pettigrew was arrested by Madam Bones," Dumbledore began calmly, interrupting Remus. He started towards the side door, clearly not wanting to have this conversation in the Great Hall.
Remus hurried after him.
McGonagall walked leisurely behind.
"She filed the paperwork and Kingsley Shacklebolt took him to a cell."
A pause.
"He'll await trial. I don't know whether it'll be in front of the Wizengamot or the Council of Magical Law."
They turned a corner.
"Most likely the Wizengamot."
Remus's heart was racing.
"Mr. Black has been admitted into St. Mungo's. He'll be there until they decide he's recovered from Azkaban, both mentally and physically."
Suddenly, Dumbledore slowed. He turned to face Remus and looked the werewolf very seriously in the eye.
"It may be a long time," he warned, and Remus's heart sank. "It may be a very long time."
They began walking again.
"That is all I know for now."
"But how did it happen? Was anyone seriously hurt? Did I hurt anyone? What happened to Harry and Ron and Hermione? Why was Snape so upset this morning? How did we get a new student overnight? I thought Pettigrew escaped—?"
"One question at a time, my dear boy," Dumbledore smiled. "Minerva?"
The Head of Gryffindor sighed.
Remus turned to look at her questioningly.
"Miss Pevensie came across Pettigrew in the forest — as a rat — and picked him up. We don't know exactly where she's from or who she is, but she managed to bring him to us and Potter recognised him in the Hospital last night."
Well, that brought up about a dozen more questions.
McGonagall continued.
"No one was seriously injured except for Weasley. If I understand correctly—" She glowered. "—Black bit him. And Potter suffered some effects from the Dementors, but managed to ward them off with a rather spectacular Patronus."
Pride filled Remus's chest. It was almost immediately replaced by worry, but it was there. For a moment.
"As far as we know," Minerva continued, "you only injured Black and perhaps a few dozen Acromantulas."
Remus winced.
"Potter, Weasley, and Granger were escorted back here by Severus. They were taken to the Hospital Wing, where the whole ruckus with Pettigrew and Cornelius Fudge occurred. Macnair was sent away and Amelia Bones was summoned."
Remus hated Macnair. Hated.
"Severus was upset because Mr. Black proved to be innocent. You know how he harbours his grudges. He's very immature about them...but I doubt he'll change any time soon."
That was true.
"We gained a student because Albus—" Here, she glared again at Albus. "—couldn't figure out what else to do with Miss Pevensie. That's where he was this morning; taking her to purchase a wand and robes and cauldron."
"And books," Dumbledore interjected. They had almost reached his office.
"And Pettigrew did escape, but was caught by Pevensie, as I said."
Remus's mind was reeling.
"So...Sirius is going to be free?"
"When he is released from St. Mungo's."
"But you're positive they're not going to charge him? I mean — Fudge isn't usually one for admitting he made a mistake, and his Undersecretary—"
"Madam Bones is in charge of this case now," Dumbledore reminded him. "You remember Amelia Bones?"
She had been the Head Girl during Remus's first year. Her younger sister, Charlotte, had been in Remus's year. Voldemort had killed her.
"Yes," he said shakily, to his own embarrassment.
Amelia Bones...Amelia Bones was a good person. She was a powerful witch, and an even more powerful politician. If she wasn't so dedicated to her job in legal, she'd probably be the best Minister in a century. She wouldn't let something happen to Sirius, not when the man was innocent. Remus shouldn't worry.
He did anyways, of course.
...
The Gryffindor Common Room was on the seventh floor.
It was circular and cosy, two fireplaces on either side of the room, with a sofa before each of them. A variety of armchairs were scattered about as well, and there were several pillow-stuffed nooks around the room. Everything was red and gold and brown and warm. The paintings moved and waved at Lucy.
Hermione showed her to the girls' dorms, where, apparently, a new bed and wardrobe had appeared overnight. Lucy put her new robes — shrunk by Dumbledore and resized by Hermione — into the wardrobe and, after hesitating for a moment, placed her dagger, healing cordial, and money pouch in the bottom, too.
Hermione then explained that, since no one had given Lucy an official schedule yet, she would just tag along with the trio. They had Potions first, with the grumpy professor from the Hospital Wing, then Herbology, which was outside, and then there was a break for lunch. Afterwards, Hermione had an elective class but Ron and Harry just had Double Transfiguration.
Lucy loaded her books into her new book bag, along with a pot of ink and a quill, and they set off again.
Harry and Ron were waiting in the Common Room. The latter had somehow acquired another plate of toast even after breakfast had cleared, and he was munching on that as Harry tapped his wand nervously against the mantel of the fireplace.
"Snape's going to be bloody pissed," Ron greeted them. "Ready?"
Lucy nodded — though she wasn't sure she was — and he grinned.
"Why would Snape be upset?" she asked as they left the room.
"Because he hates everything and everyone."
Hermione rolled her eyes and Lucy glanced questioningly at her.
"He doesn't like Gryffindors very much, and he has a grudge against Sirius for some reason. He'll be upset that the man was found innocent. Also...everyone knows that he's wanted the Defence position for years, which was Professor Lupin's job."
"Lupin's the werewolf?"
"Right."
"He's not evil," Harry began forcefully. "Just because—"
"I understand," Lucy said calmly, taking the wind out of what clearly would have been a long tirade.
"You do?"
"Ginny explained what werewolves are to me, and Dumbledore explained why he hired Lupin. I don't believe anyone is intrinsically evil because of their race or species, or whatever it is. Every person is different — you can't generalise all people as being good or evil or greedy or smart, so you can't generalise any other race like that."
"I dunno," Ron said, mouth full. "The goblins are known for not being very nice. I've never met a nice hag, either."
"I've only ever met one hag, but the goblins were nice to me when I was at the bank this morning."
"No way."
"Yes, really. They were nice. Maybe you just have to be nice to them first. If you go there expecting them to dislike you, then they will."
"What did you say to them?" Ron demanded. He had jam on his cheek.
"I don't know, they were just polite to me. I was polite to them. Dumbledore went up to the counter — y'know, in the main hall—" They nodded. "—and asked to speak to a registry goblin...and then I gave them my name and they said which vault I had to go to, and then the goblin who took us down there — Griphook — explained the currency and a few other things."
"I thought you were a Muggleborn," Hermione said curiously.
"I have no clue what that means."
"Neither of your parents have magic," Harry explained tiredly.
"Oh. Yeah. They don't."
"Registry goblins are for, like, if you don't know what vault you have. They take your blood and do some sort of runic...I dunno, honestly. Bill's never fully explained it."
"I didn't actually meet a registry goblin. That's just what Dumbledore thought we needed, and then we didn't. The goblin told us to go down to the Pevensie vault — why are we talking about this, anyway? My point was that they were nice. There wasn't a doorknob, so Griphook explained how I had to open it, and...he explained the conversion rates, and that sort of thing."
"The what?" Ron asked, looking confused.
Hermione leaned in and whispered something in his ear — something about pounds, probably.
"It must have been a fluke," Ron decided.
Lucy sighed. Harry turned sharply and they began down the stairs.
"What's Potions class like?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Terrible."
"Difficult."
"Boring."
Lucy raised an eyebrow. Hermione elaborated.
"Professor Snape is a difficult teacher," she said. "He expects a very high caliber of work out of all his students, and isn't very kind about mistakes. He can be...degrading."
"I see," Lucy said, a bitter taste in her mouth.
She'd had mean teachers before. Her least favourite had been Madam Corkeley from St. Finlay's. The woman had taught geography and Lucy had hated her.
She liked to think she'd never hated anyone. She hadn't hated Edmund when he'd briefly betrayed them, she hadn't hated Miraz even when he was waging war against her people. She hadn't hated any of the boys who'd bullied Edmund in school, or any of the boys Peter got into frequent fights with. She was known for being nice.
But Lucy hated Madam Corkeley.
She was cruel to her students; she marked harshly and never encouraged them. She frequently berated students for bad grades and every test seemed to be more difficult than the last.
Geography was not supposed to be a difficult subject. It really wasn't. But the environment of the classes was not a functional one. It was hard to focus. It was hard to take notes and keep up with the lecture. It was hard to memorise hundreds of towns — half of which they didn't even need to know for the final exam, much less for real life application. Lucy dreaded every single class with Madam Corkeley until the end of her year at St. Finlay's.
When they arrived at the Potions classroom they were among the last to do so. The bell rang just seconds after they'd taken their seats — the only available ones, right up front. The professor stalked in moments later.
"Your examinations are over and hopefully not too many of you will have failed this year," he began, lip curling. Lucy noted the bags under his eyes. "Those who have will make up the portions of their examination they need the most help with over the summer. The next two weeks will be devoted to preparations for the next semester."
After that, he broke them up into groups of four to begin sorting barrels of ingredients into jars.
Lucy was astonished to find that wizards actually used bat spleens and beetle eyes and the like. She was wearing gloves, thankfully, but couldn't help but squirm with every movement.
"This is so boring," Ron said huffily. He kept his voice down but glared over at Snape.
"Could be worse," Harry shrugged, also speaking quietly. "Could be much worse."
"Longbottom!" Snape snapped at that moment.
Lucy glanced over to see him glaring at a pudgy blond-haired boy, who had turned bright red under the attention.
"Why are you putting the Flobberworm mucus in a jar that is clearly labelled infusion of wormwood?" the professor snarled.
The boy — Longbottom — paled and looked down at the jar in his hand.
"I...I—"
"Enough! Ten points from Gryffindor, and you can redo the entire barrel." He glared at the three other boys by Longbottom. "By yourself."
Harry and Ron both grimaced and Hermione sighed.
"Poor bloke," Ron muttered, but not quietly enough.
"Weasley! Five points for talking."
Lucy's eyes widened and Ron swore under his breath.
They continued sorting potion ingredients for the better part of an hour. It was tedious and gross and more than once, the professor snapped at a student. Lucy mentally placed him on a tier with Madam Corkeley.
She wondered, at one point, if anything she was sorting had been used to make her healing cordial. It probably wasn't — it seemed far more likely that the healing cordial had simply sprung into existence the way her dagger had, but it was a curious contemplation all the same. Father Christmas had a very peculiar type of magic she'd never witnessed before or since.
She also began to wonder what had made the professor so angry. He was, quite plainly, cruel to the students. Longbottom (whose given name, she discovered, was Neville) flinched any time Snape came near his desk. Ron spent the better part of the lesson cursing under his breath as he struggled to move leeches from one tank to another. Harry had lost fifteen points at once for sneezing in a way that apparently upset another student.
"Bloody git," Ron had murmured.
"What?" Lucy whispered back.
"Malfoy. Bloody useless idiot. Snape favours the Slytherins and Malfoy's a git."
By the time the bell rang, Lucy had not formed a favourable impression of Potions class. Or Professor Snape, for that matter.
She peeled her gloves off and beat a hasty retreat from the dark classroom, followed by Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
They had Herbology next, which was significantly better than Potions.
It was outside, for one, and the early-summer sun shone down kindly on them. A slight breeze drifted West from the forest and the birds were chirping.
Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, had them replanting something called a Flitterbloom.
Lucy had never heard of the plant before but had to admit they were very pretty. They had long, swaying, tentacle-like leaves, and glowed faintly when placed in the shadows. According to Neville — who was significantly more confident in this class than he had been in Potions — their roots possessed healing properties used for minor burns and scrapes.
After Herbology it was time for lunch and Lucy got to experience the grandest feast she'd had since her time as Queen Lucy the Valiant.
There were whole roasted chickens, platters of salads and sandwiches, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables of every variety, fruits like mangoes and peaches, and every type of cheese one could ask for. And bread. Lots of bread.
Delighted, Lucy made herself a plate, including one of just about everything. Hermione's eyes widened and then she seemed to realise that Lucy was new here and clearly excited, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Ah w'mumn afgur mah ooon harth," Ron said, pointing at her.
She raised an eyebrow.
"A woman after his own heart," Harry translated, gesturing at her plate. "Because, y'know...chicken."
"I see," Lucy said, amused.
The sandy-haired boy across from Ron leaned forward.
"So...Pevensie, right?"
"Lucy," she corrected.
"Seamus Finnigan," he said, gesturing towards himself. "This is my mate, Dean. And...you've probably figured out that's Longbottom."
"Yes," Lucy said. "Nice to meet you."
"So what's the story?" Dean asked, leaning forward on his elbows.
"What do you mean?"
"Well...you literally arrived overnight," he said with a chuckle. "On a very chaotic night, to boot."
"Honestly, I don't really know what happened. I just found myself in the forest and then wandered up to the castle. Dumbledore Sorted me at, like, midnight, and then took me to get my books and robes this morning."
"Where did you go before this?" Neville asked.
"Er...St. Finlay's."
"I've never heard of that," the boy frowned. "It is in England, right? A private school, maybe?"
Lucy nodded and swallowed a bite of asparagus.
"Hopgwarts is the only—" Hermione began, but Ron elbowed her in the ribs.
"Just leave it, 'Mione," he mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of peas. "What do we have after this — McGonagall?"
Hermione sighed and nodded. "You two do, so...sorry Lucy, but you'll be stuck with Harry and Ron for the afternoon. I've got Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, then a study group in the library."
"That's fine!" Lucy said brightly. "I've already met Professor McGonagall. She's super nice."
The other Gryffindors exchanged glances but no one argued with her.
"Professor Dumbledore said that Transfiguration was like changing the molecular structure of things. Is that true?"
Hermione, who the question was directed at, nodded.
"It's technically impossible to create or destroy matter, but we can manipulate the identity of it," she explained slowly. "It's a very precise discipline; right now we're working on turning mice into snuff boxes."
Lucy frowned and swallowed the bit of bread she'd been chewing.
"What's the point of that?" she asked. "Doesn't it hurt the mice?"
"No, they don't feel it. At least, I don't think they do. I'm sure we wouldn't do these sorts of spells if they hurt the animals."
"Are you sure?"
Hermione frowned uncertainly. "Well, you can ask Professor McGonagall when we get to class."
"Perhaps I will."