The Staff Room

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THE STAFF ROOM

By A.A.Yarrum

Chapter 4:

A castle under siege

Professor Minerva McGonagall stalked along the dark passageway, which led to the entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room. The corridor was poorly lit- bars of moonlight from the tall, arched windows lit the hall in strips. In one hand Minerva held a brass oil lamp from the Gryffindor Common Room, and in the other her wand was ready to fire, should the situation arise.

With cat-like quietness she stalked along the corridor. The school and it’s occupants were in very real danger- a mad mass murderer was loose. Although she was very nervous and anxious, a part of Minerva cowered to think what the headlines on tomorrows Daily Prophet would look like.

Ravenclaw House took up several floors of the north side of the castle, overlooking the lawns that ran down towards the edge of the lake. It was a square block, centring around the common area, which was a maze of alcoves, sitting rooms, studies and libraries. Rather than have just one large common room, the Ravenclaws had a mass of small ancillary rooms.

Pulling the magical megaphone out from a pocket in her cloak, Minerva stepped behind the tapestry and into the lobby room of Rowena Ravenclaw.

‘Would all students assemble immediately in the Lobby!’ she shouted through it. The sound resonated throughout the many chambers. ‘This is an emergency. Assemble in the Lobby now!’

She repeated this several times, and many tired and worried looking students began to assemble in front of her.

‘Please hurry up! This is an emergency! Assemble in the Lobby immediately!’

After several minutes, a mass of students, most in pyjamas, were standing, bleary eyed, in front of her.

‘Is every body here?’ she barked.

‘Yes, professor,’ said Jonas Bathwater, the seventh year prefect. ‘Two hundred and thirty four.’

Minerva took a deep breath, before reiterating Dumbledore’s speech to the Gryffindors a couple of moments earlier.

‘We have reason to believe that the castle is under attack. Please follow Bathwater down to the Great Hall, and await further instructions. We are all in very great danger. If I hear of someone messing around in any way, I shall have him or her out of the castle within the hour. Is that clear?’

Nobody moved.

‘Go. And stay quiet.’

They all filed past her, sufficiently scared into sobriety. She then made her way along the corridor to Hufflepuff, where she gave them exactly the same speech and sent them on their way.

She had left Slytherin to last, partly because they were furthest away from Gryffindor House, partly because they were probably in least danger from Black, and because she wanted to scare them witless.

‘Everybody up!’ She bawled, slightly louder than was necessary. ‘Up! Into the common room! Now!’

‘What in the name of god is this?’ moaned Draco Malfoy, the slimy little Slytherin, as he and his dorm fellows walked into the cold, draughty common room.

‘This is a matter of grave urgency. I am instructing you all to report to the Great Hall at once!’

‘Why?’ asked Malfoy.

Minerva turned and glared at him for a moment.

‘Because I say so, Malfoy, and you will do as I say. Now all of you! Move!’

‘Not bloody likely! I’m going back to bed!’ Unsurprisingly, it was the Malfoy boy again.

‘You will do as I say, Malfoy,’ said Minerva calmly, ‘because anyone who disobeys my instructions will find themselves on the first train out of Hogsmeade. Is that clear?’

‘Muttering to himself, the boy smoothed his silk emerald green pyjamas, before moving with the rest of the crowd out into the dungeon corridor, and up into the Great Hall.

***

Once the pupils were all in the Great Hall, Minerva walked into the antechamber, where Snape had assembled all the teachers, staff and ghosts. Minerva stepped inside, and confirmed to the assembly that the students were perfectly safe.

‘They’re all in the Great Hall,’ she said. ‘I’m having Percy Weasley start a head count.’

At that moment, Albus walked it, looking very sombre. An immediate silence fell over the adults, past and present.

‘I’m sure you all know why you’re here. I’ve already contacted the Ministry and Fudge is sending a deputation out here immediately. The Dementors are making a search of the village. I’ve managed to persuade Fudge to keep them out of the castle for the time being, but unless we can prove to him that we are safe, we don’t stand a chance of keeping those… monsters out of here.

‘We have to conduct a thorough search of the castle tonight. Minerva will give you an area of the castle to search, and make sure that you check behind every secret doorway, every possible hiding place. We must find this man.’

He turned, and left the room, leaving Minerva to issue the orders.

‘Phillip and Cindy!’ she barked, thinking on her feet. ‘Search the East wing and Astronomy Tower. Remus and Sybil, Search the North Buildings and the North Tower…

Once she had finished issuing demands, she told the ghosts to start making sure the students were going to sleep. She then made her way up to the Headmaster’s office, just to make sure he wasn’t being too wildly eccentric.

On her way up the marble staircase, however, Severus came stalking up to her.

‘Minerva,’ he said, in his usual quiet, deadly voice that instilled fear in so many of his students.

‘You should be looking for Black, Severus.’

‘I’ve got one of the ghosts covering for me. Minerva, are you absolutely sure the Lupin hasn’t got anything to do with this? Don’t you think there’s a chance he might have helped Black get in.’

‘No Severus, I think it highly unlikely and completely preposterous that Remus has any more of a clandestine involvement in this than you or I.’

‘Some members of staff don’t have quite as much confidence in him as you…’

‘That,’ she cut in, ‘is because the fires of their prejudices have been stoked by you, trying to get your own back for a stupid school boy prank!’

‘Minerva,’ protested Severus, but she cut him off.

‘You know perfectly well that is exactly the reason why Remus has had so much animosity directed towards him by other members of the faculty. It is nothing more than old fashioned bigotry and prejudice. And you, Severus, reduced yourself to their level when you fuelled their worries with your petty stories. Now I suggest you return to the dungeons and start looking for Black, who is in fact an actual criminal in the real world, not just in you mind.’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I warned you with Quirrell and you ignored me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘You’re turning into Sybil,’ said Minerva bitingly. ‘Next you’ll be telling me that the Grim is haunting me. Go and look for Black, Severus. Do something productive with your time at least.’

She turned and continued up the staircase, quietly satisfied that she had put down the Potions Master so well. She was absolutely right, though. Although Severus was very forward thinking and not biased against werewolves or giants or whatever else lurked within these walls, he knew that other people were, and he was perfectly happy to exploit these prejudices to his own advantage, something Minerva would never do. But, she surmised, that was precisely the reason why she was head of Gryffindor House, and he Head of Slytherin.

***

Meanwhile, down in the dungeons, down in the very bowels of the castle, Severus Snape was not doing what Minerva had asked him to. He crept around a corner, and spotted Remus Lupin. The infinitely stupid werewolf was looking in a room that Black would never go in. Severus thought he should go and point out this monumental folly to his former classmate, but instead, whispering an incantation quietly, a small humming bird shaped charm flew from his wand and landed on Remus Lupin’s head. There, thought Severus. Now that the Listening Charm was in place, he would only have to call the little humming bird back and it would tell him exactly what Remus Lupin had been up to. And Severus was entirely sure that would include a little rendezvous with a certain Sirius Black, Psychopath Extraordinaire.

***

Edith Sprout crept along the corridor on the first floor that led to the South Towers. In one hand her wand was outstretched, and in the other she clung in her sweaty palm a luck four leaf clover she had found in Ireland as a girl, over forty years ago. She approached the bend in the corridor when suddenly she heard a rustling behind it. Steeling herself, she waited for the madman Black to appear. Who else could it be but Black? Where was Murray, her partner?  Oh, sweet Jesus, she was going to have to face Sirius Black single handedly. And her wand work was awful, as well! She was far better at diagnosing the outbreak of red spots on the mandrakes than she was apprehending mass murderers, completely unaided. Her sister, Flora, would have been much better at this- she was the strong, eccentric one of the family. Oh, god she might never see her sister again, she might not make it out of this alive. Black would kill her in an instant. Two words from the awful man and she would be gone, puff, extinguished forever…

Oh my god! Black was about to come round the corner. Edith knelt onto one knee, ready to duck and dive, wand pointed.

The tall figure with messy hair came round, wearing black and white robes.

‘DON’T MOVE!’ shouted Edith, sweat dripping down her forehead. ‘GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!’

‘Bu…’ the figure said. It was bathed in darkness.

‘STUPEFY!’ shouted Edith. The curse missed Black and instead reverberated off the suit of armour beside him, and out the window, into the moonlit sky.

‘STUPEFY! STUPEFY! STUPEFY!’ Edith was going mad. She had never been so violent towards anything.

The figure slumped onto the ground. Edith breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. Black hadn’t even tried to retaliate. She crawled, on hands and knees, over to the stiff body, not sure that her legs would be able to support her.

‘Lumos,’ she said, and the wand light shone, not on the face of Sirius Black, made famous by the Daily Prophet and the thousands of leaflets distributed by the Ministry of Magic, but that of Xonia* Hooch.

‘Goodness gracious,’ whispered Edith to herself, before rolling up the dirt black and orange sleeves of her Hallowe’en robes, encrusted with glittering pumpkins and witches on broomsticks.

‘Enervate,’ she pronounced, and the eyes of Xonia blinked, before she sat up, looking rather dazed.

‘Xonia, Xonia, dear, are you all right?’ fussed Edith. ‘Oh, Xonia, I’m so terribly, terribly sorry! Oh, heavens! Oh, I’m so awfully, awfully sorry! Do you want a drink? Will I conjure you a drink? Water? Tea? Pumpkin Juice? Bourbon? Oh, I’m ever so sorry, Xonia!’

‘Why did you do that?’ asked the Quidditch Supervisor dizzily.

‘I thought you were… him!’ shrieked Edith, not troubling to keep her voice low, in case Black was nearby. As it happened, the sound of her voice aroused the attention of a man with black hair who was nearby.

‘Who?’

‘Black! Sorry, Xonia, no offence to you, but it was very dark, and you both are very tall and muscular! I don’t know, I was so worried. I’m so sorry.’

‘Why would you think Sirius Black was in Hogwarts?’ asked Xonia. Both women were sitting on the ground, sipping the tea that Edith had summoned.

‘Xonia, haven’t you heard?’ exclaimed Edith, with the air of a fishwife who hadn’t yet told you of the bust up at number forty three. ‘Sirius Black, he attacked the portrait of that Fat woman, outside Gryffindor Dorms! She wouldn’t let him in without a password, so he went mad, and let rip.’

‘Never!’ said Xonia with relish. ‘Well there you go. I always knew he’d strike.’

‘You’ve been saying it for months,’ agreed Edith. ‘And there you have it.’

‘What’s happening here, ladies?’ asked a cruel voice from behind them, and Xonia and Edith both screamed out loud at the top of their lungs, and leapt around, spilling there tea everywhere.

‘That’s the reaction I often get with women these days,’ said the silky voiced man, smoothing his black hair.

‘Severus, don’t do that to us! We didn’t know who that was.’

‘Well, clearly you’re both doing your utmost to help apprehend Black,’ he said sarcastically, looking at them.

‘We were recuperating!’ said Edith with gusto. ‘I thought Xonia was Black and I attacked her.’

‘What a compliment,’ said Snape. ‘But you’ll have to do it later, Albus wants us all back in the antechamber.’

‘Okay,’ said Xonia, standing up, and magicking the tea in her robes away, while Edith just wrung it out the good old fashioned muggle way.

The band of three made their way along the corridor and down a staircase when they heard a rustling around one of the corners.

‘Shhh!’ said Severus, motioning for them to be quiet and pulling his wand out. The other two did the same, and, as one big group of anxious teachers, they leapt around the corner, wands drawn. Literally, they all leapt. If anyone had been watching, they would have found it very, very funny.

They jumped around the corner, their cloaks and robes flying out behind them, only to find a large black dog sniffing around.

‘What in the name of god is that?’ asked Severus, his face contorted in disgust. He hated animals, as all the members of staff knew. Even snakes.

‘Oh, it’s Albert!’ said Edith, bending over and cuddling the huge mutt.

‘Albert?’ asked Severus, surveying the animal. ‘It has a name?’

‘Of course it has a name!’ snapped Edith. ‘He comes and keeps me company at the green houses, don’t you, Albert, don’t you?’ she pouted her lips at the animal and tickled it behind the ears. Severus looked on with nothing but absolute revulsion in his heart. Why is it, he thought, that perfectly sane adults, well, at least reasonably sane adults like Edith, can be transformed into blubbering wrecks at this sight of an animal? Severus would never understand it.

‘I think I’ve seen him down at the Quidditch Pitch a few times,’ said Xonia. ‘He lives in the forest, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes, he does, although I let him sleep in my little store cabin beside the green houses. He likes rabbit and carrots, don’t you, Albie, don’t you?’

‘Come on,’ said Severus. ‘We don’t want to be late.’

‘Okay,’ said Edith. ‘Bye bye, now, Albert.’ She pushed open a fire door, which gave the dog an exit to the grounds, via a flight of outdoor steps, which led down to the grassy lawns below.

‘Come on, then,’ said the Herbology professor, clapping her hands and marching off.

***

The Deputation from the Ministry, headed by Deputy Minister for Magical Catastrophes Filius Maverick, an ambitious young man charged with responsibility for the Black case, left Hogwarts at around half past three in the morning. As the Headmaster and deputy Headmistress made their way down, through the school, to meet with the rest of the staff, they discussed how the meeting had gone.

‘I think that went rather well, Minerva,’ said Albus cheerily, as they exited from behind the stone gargoyle.

‘It could have went worse,’ she agreed. The Headmaster noted that her lips were very thin, always a sure sign of danger. He decided to tread carefully.

‘You handled it well,’ he said. This statement did nothing to enlarge the decidedly thinned lips.

‘You, on the other hand,’ she snapped, ‘were very childish.’

‘Minerva, I am not letting any Dementor take over our school.’

‘They weren’t suggesting that we allow them to take over,’ she said. ‘They were suggesting that we allow them a weekly inspection of the castle, which, I think, given the circumstances, was a more than fair offer.’

‘That, Minerva, is where you and I differ. I am not prepared to give anything, nor to make any sacrifices.’

‘Which is precisely why, Albus, you are a dire chess player!’ Minerva was exceedingly proud of her chess board in the Chambers of the Philosophers Stone two years ago, and never missed an opportunity to mention it in a conversation. She was looking forward indeed to the day when she could play young Mr Weasley, the friend of Harry Potter, who has defeated the board.

‘Oh, pish posh,’ said Dumbledore, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘Chess is a terrible game, all thinking and battle plans. Cards, however- now there’s a game and a half. And I never could say no to a game of Cluedo. Muggles really have the most wonderful games, Minerva.’

‘Really?’ she said, sarcastically. ‘You should have told me, Albus. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned that to me. No, wait, I think I vaguely recall something like that once coming up in our conversation… or perhaps twice… In fact, I don’t think a day’s gone by when you haven’t mentioned that. And I am forever telling you that Cluedo is an atrocious game!’

‘Poppycock!’ said Dumbledore. ‘It was Professor Plum in the Library with the candlestick!’

‘What?’ asked Minerva incredulously, as the pair walked along the corridor, with the sun rising on the horizon to their left.

‘A Cluedo term,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I suppose you’d rather stick to your chess game…’