Dear Minerva,
You might have heard that I’m helping with Harriet (Harry) Potter’s homeschooling. Neither Lily nor James—nor indeed myself or Sirius—were particularly impressed with Harry schooling herself via an owl correspondence course in the lower alleys over the last four years while she let Archie take her place at the American Institute of Magic, and an unknown took Archie’s place at Hogwarts.
Archie and Harry (especially Harry) have long had academic interests; Archie in Healing and Harry in Potions. Both had professed to be studying the other’s special interest so that they could share information gained from their respective institutions, so it was quite a shock to find out that they were a lot less law-abiding than we’d assumed. Particularly as Harry has not actually had any formal structured education over the last four years.
(I’m sure you must think it’s karma that the Marauders have such mischievous children, although I must say that Harry and Archie—and their co-conspirator, Rigel—have taken marauding to new levels.)
Allowing Harry to continue with her correspondence schooling—but at Potter Place under her family’s supervision—was a compromise, although I’m not necessarily sure that Harry sees it that way.
Harry maintains that with the assistance of notes from Archie and Rigel, plus her own academic research, her education through the Sphinx Correspondence School is the equal of a traditional education, if not better, despite our initial scepticism.
Unfortunately for parental authority (but fortunately for Harry herself), it appears that Harry’s education has not suffered from its unorthodox nature. On the contrary, I believe that she is now well ahead of her year mates.
Not only did Harry score Outstanding on all of the OWLs she recently undertook—a particularly notable achievement given that Harry only turned 15 at the end of July and would otherwise have been due to now start fifth year work—but I’ve been impressed by not only her knowledge of, but also her insight into, many NEWT concepts.
I've attached Harry’s recent essay on linked transfigurations. She’s presented a fascinating perspective with some intriguing examples, and I thought that you might be interested in it.
Any thoughts you have would be greatly appreciated; transfiguration is not my area of expertise and I don’t want to unintentionally confuse Harry with my (perhaps less than robust) understanding of post-NEWT transfiguration concepts.
Harry, Lily and I have had some rather in-depth discussions that have definitely veered into post-NEWT transfiguration territory. James’s practical transfiguration skills might still be amazing, but what he retains of his theoretical knowledge is sadly not helpful.
Regards,
Remus Lupin.
~*~
Minerva McGonagall chuckled as she read Remus Lupin’s letter at breakfast. After all that the Marauders had put her through during their school years—particularly those scallywags James Potter and Sirius Black—she felt that it was indeed karmic that the universe gave them mischievous children.
Minerva did, however, pause at the reference to Rigel Black, and was hit with a wave of bittersweet emotion. It was not quite two weeks into term, and the vacuum resulting from Rigel Black’s absence from the fifth year Hogwarts cohort was palpable.
She was relieved that Sirius had decided to continue his son’s education at AIM. Not that she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get to know the real Arcturus Rigel Black, but she didn’t imagine that the boy—Archie, not Rigel—would be accepted by his year mates had he joined Hogwarts now.
The fifth years’ loyalty to Rigel—and that was the name she’d continue to call the boy she’d taught as Rigel Black—was both wondrous, and, in some cases frightening. Mr Malfoy’s care and concern for his missing dorm-mate was unmistakable, despite his outward denials, and Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode’s efforts to find Rigel were bordering on the obsessive.
It wasn’t just the fifth years distressed by Rigel’s absence. Her Gryffindors were affected too. Particularly Neville Longbottom. Ron Weasley. Ginny Weasley.
She’d even heard through the grapevine that the Weasley twins had ceded the prank war to Rigel, and while she didn’t want to think too closely about what that might mean, Fred and George Weasley had been mercifully well behaved—or at least relatively quiet—so far this year.
Minerva briefly skimmed the attached essay. Remus was right; Harry Potter did indeed show a prodigious understanding of transfiguration concepts for a child who’d only just completed their OWLs, Outstanding grade notwithstanding. She tried to recall if she’d ever met the girl, but no.
She had met the youngest Potter daughter, Adriana, but the Potter-Lupin-Black family had pretty much kept to themselves until their eldest children had started school, and the few events Minerva attended that they also attended had—ironically enough—coincided with the school terms, so she’d never actually met Harry Potter, nor the real Arcturus Rigel Black.
Minerva put aside the letter and essay. Remus was correct in supposing that she would be interested in Potter’s essay. But not for the reasons he might expect. There was something about the essay that intrigued her; it was somehow almost … familiar? in a way she couldn’t readily define.
Unfortunately, it was time for her to start preparations for her First Year Slytherin Transfiguration class. She’d deal with it later.
~*~
Minerva briefly thought about asking Severus for his opinion on Harry Potter. She might not have met the girl, but she did recall overhearing Rigel and Severus talking about Harry Potter’s potions internship and her development of a revolutionary new potions methodology. Potions played a big part in Severus’s life; at the very least he’d know something about such a promising young potioneer.
One look at Severus’s scowling face at lunchtime disabused Minerva of that notion. A thundercloud had nothing on the Hogwarts Potions Master. She pitied Severus’s next classes; there was no way that she was going to let herself be subjected to Severus’s acerbic tongue if he was in a mood. Minerva would deal with Harry Potter’s intriguing essay by herself.
~*~
Minerva waited instead until after curfew that evening before settling down comfortably with her favourite tartan dressing gown, fluffy slippers, some shortbread, a wee dram of whiskey and the Potter girl’s essay.
For reasons as yet unknown, Potter’s essay strongly reminded Minerva of Marcus Flint and Percy Weasley.
She snorted when she thought about Flint’s assignments. The Slytherin quidditch practice schedule was brutal, and Flint’s work in class remained sufficiently different from his homework assignments, yet she’d had to drop the matter after Flint claimed to use the Psychic Transcription Charm. She’d seen him transcribe that essay in class that time. Minerva was sure of it.
And then Flint’s NEWT test-prep work matched the style of his in-class work, not his homework assignments. This rekindled Minerva’s conjecture that someone else was completing Flint’s homework. Particularly as there was a significant—and unlikely to be coincidental—drop in Slytherin quidditch practice sessions once the seventh years started their NEWT revision.
The only thing that stopped Minerva from being too upset about the whole Flint saga was that while Severus might have shared her (albeit rekindled) suspicions, she believed that Severus was equally in the dark about the real author of Flint’s assignments.
Over time Minerva had let go of the idea that Percy Weasley could be the unknown author. Contextual similarities aside, it was just too out of character for the third Weasley boy to be involved in anything even faintly against the rules.
In the end, the whole thing was moot; Flint had gotten an Outstanding on his Transfiguration NEWT. (So too had Percy Weasley, but that was less unexpected).
However unsatisfactory it might be, Minerva chalked Flint’s homework up as one of many Hogwarts mysteries that remained unsolved and disregarded it.
Until now.
There was something in the Potter essay that sparked her intuition, and after decades of experience in dealing with magical adolescents, Minerva had well learnt to trust her intuition.
An analysis of the class of 1994’s assignments, in-class tests and quizzes and test-prep on linked transfigurations confirmed that only Weasley and Flint had written about the concept of linked transfigurations the way that Potter did. Significantly, Flint had only taken the approach in his assignments, and not in his classwork or test-prep.
Minerva was unexpectedly grateful that she’d yet to deposit the class of 1994’s work in the less than readily accessible Hogwarts archives, as she was now determined to get to the bottom of this, even if it meant extracting and analysing all of Flint and Weasley’s work for the last three years.
Partway through Flint’s homework assignments, Minerva found a tell.
“Discrete” was continually misspelt.
Although it was clear the meaning was meant to be “separate or distinct”, the word was spelt as “discreet”—meaning “prudent and circumspect”.
Perhaps Flint (or whoever it was that had completed Flint’s homework) didn’t appreciate that discrete and discreet were homophones—words that sound the same but have different meanings and/or spellings—or perhaps they’d just confused the two spellings.
Either way, at the time Minerva had ignored the spelling mistake; it was a minor, almost typographical error. The writer’s intention was evident.
This error was not replicated on any of Flint’s in-class tests or quizzes, nor on his NEWT test-prep, just his homework assignments.
It was one of the clearest indications Minerva had found so far to confirm that the author of Flint’s homework was not actually Flint.
A quick check showed that there were no such misspellings in any of Percy Weasley’s work.
On the other hand, Potter’s essay was replete with this very same error.
Potter, like the unknown author of Flint’s homework, was both fond of using and misspelling “discrete”.
Could Harry Potter have been doing Marcus Flint’s assignments?
But how? The girl didn’t even attend Hogwarts.
Perhaps that was the reason that Minerva had never seen any Hogwarts students struggling under a double workload; it wasn’t anybody at Hogwarts who had been doing Flint’s assignments.
After Severus mentioned Flint’s sudden increased receipt of owl correspondence, suggesting that someone was mailing Flint the completed assignments, Minerva made a point of noticing the owls that carried Flint’s correspondence.
Severus was correct in that the birds were never the same. He’d postulated that it was someone within Hogwarts using regular school owls.
Minerva now wondered if it was Harry Potter using the public postal service from the alleys where she secretly homeschooled herself.
Remus Lupin’s letter made it clear that Miss Potter understood the concepts in the essay. Minerva did not doubt that the essay was Miss Potter’s. But could Miss Potter have understood those concepts three years ago?
James Potter had been a transfiguration prodigy. For all that Remus might claim James had forgotten the detailed aspects of transfiguration theory, James had certainly understood the concepts easily enough in school, and he hadn’t been particularly academically inclined, whereas by all reports his daughter was.
But why?
Minerva sighed as she looked at the assignments scattered about her office. It was now past midnight and her normally immaculate office was a mess. She flicked her wand and the assignments returned to their correct place in the filing cabinet. Magic was wonderful.
The mystery of Miss Potter and the author of Flint’s assignments was a mystery that would need to wait for another day. Minerva had the Weasley twins in NEWT Transfiguration tomorrow—actually now today—and dealing with them when sleep deprived was a headache she didn’t need.
~*~
Minerva sat bolt upright in bed.
The Wimbourne Wasps. She’d seen Sirius Black and his son at numerous Wimbourne Wasps games over the years. She’d also seen Herbert and Marcus Flint at numerous Wimbourne Wasps games.
Both Flint and Black were Book of Gold Lords with money and a hankering after the finer things in life—like the VIP box at quidditch matches.
What was the chance that Marcus Flint knew Arcturus Black outside of Hogwarts?
What was the chance that Marcus Flint had recognised that Rigel Black was not the real Arcturus?
What was the chance that Marcus Flint had used this knowledge to blackmail a non-Black male into doing Flint’s assignments?
And could Rigel have asked Harry Potter to do Flint’s assignments?
Rigel was linked to Harry Potter.
It was Harry Potter’s place at AIM that the real Arcturus Black took when Rigel came to Hogwarts. Harry Potter homeschooled herself in the lower alleys. Harry Potter had no adult supervision.
Dammit. Minerva had the Weasley twins today. She needed her sleep. She’d worry about this later.
~*~
Minerva reread the faux Flint essay on linked transfiguration. Then she reread the Potter essay. Now that she was actively looking for it, similarities that she’d missed before jumped out at her.
Or was she seeing something that wasn’t really there?
Minerva had been a teacher for a long time; she knew what copied and plagiarised work looked like, and it wasn’t Potter’s essay.
There were, however, undeniable similarities between the two essays.
Could both essays have been written by the same person?
Could Harry Potter really have written all of Marcus Flint’s homework assignments?
Minerva had been certain that whoever was doing Flint’s work could not have been less than a year below Flint, but Harry Potter had a family history steeped in transfiguration, she was the inventor of a new potions methodology at the age of twelve, and she’d homeschooled herself to achieve Outstandings on her OWLs.
Perhaps Miss Potter was just an exceptional witch.
Minerva was not afraid to admit that she’d been wrong before, but she would carefully—and discreetly!—investigate before discussing this with Severus.
~*~
Dear Remus,
Thank you for your letter. It was lovely to hear from you, and your words about karmic retribution for James and Sirius made me laugh.
I did indeed find Miss Potter’s essay intriguing. She has an interesting perspective on linked transformations.
I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting Miss Potter. Would it be possible for you to arrange a meeting with her? Few students demonstrate such a keen mind, and I’m always on the lookout for potential transfiguration Masters.
Regards,
Minerva McGonagall.