A Little Knowledge

The rest of the holidays were rather peaceful for the girls, those both at and away from Hogwarts, and for Martin, who was still a bit on edge about having his mum at the school for the foreseeable future. That is, he had written Corinna again and asked her when his mum would be leaving and she had replied that she simply didn’t know that. She had patiently explained this in more detail upon her return. But Martin was slowly get used to the idea of his mother teaching classes, although he was very grateful to have the subject only two days out of the week.

All five of the Ravenclaws had had a very merry Christmas, evidenced by the stack of new books on a wide variety of topics on their respective bedside tables.

Sissy had received, for example, a wondrously fascinating book on Notable Medieval Witches that even included a small article on Morgan le Fay, which she was quick to read and reread just in case she needed to face that formidable portrait of her ever again.

Sophia’s favorite gift, many of which had been books, was a tome on the History of Magical Medicine that was a recent edition and took a very modern look at the topic. The illustrations were a bit gruesome, but she chalked that up to Sissy’s extraordinary taste in such things.

Olivia had received a book on Arithmancy from her mother, who hoped that her daughter would choose the subject for the next term. Olivia was certainly thinking about it. No one could deny that she was unusually good with numbers, and the book, which was a beginner’s guide, was fascinating.

In a similar vein Corinna had got three very different books on Divinations from Martin, Sophia, and a secret admirer that she suspected was Joseph Mallaghan. One was on the topic of dreams, another was about visions and visitations, and the other was a how-to book on Palmistry. She had finished up with the book she had borrowed from the professor over the holidays and would be returning it the next Saturday.

Martin, who had spent Christmas with his parents and his uncle, had received far less academic books by the girls’ standards, including a leather-bound volume of Muggle fairy tales that his father had called ‘comparative reading’ and a thin book on Astronomy that he thought would help him with his rather intermittent lessons. The girls found it to be too elementary. His uncle had given also him a chess set of the wizarding type.

Obviously, it had been a very good Christmas for the young witches and wizard, which was helped along by a large package of sweets from Sissy’s mother, who Martin still could not believe was a Slytherin.

The night before classes started again, they all decided to stay up for a bit, after the lights had dimmed and they were meant to be in bed, to talk for a while by the fire without the distraction of their house mates, all of whom were just as eager as they were to return to class.

Martin smiled as he found himself neatly sandwiched between Sophia and Olivia on the couch. He could relax again, even knowing that his mother would be teaching the very next day and teaching him the day after that. The girls, none of whom had met his mother yet because of his until recently impending nervous breakdown, didn’t seem to be bothered or out of sorts at all, and he liked that and drew comfort from it.

Until Olivia elbowed him in the ribs and said, “I’m really looking forward to having a class with your mum. I bet she’s really interesting.”

Martin just closed his eyes and retorted, “You won’t be saying that after. She’s not as barmy as my father. In fact she was rather strict with my lessons. It comes from her being an Auror. But you’ll see.”

“Olivia, maybe Martin doesn’t want to talk about the situation,” suggested Sophia, who was perhaps a bit more aware of how Martin felt. Or maybe she was more sensitive because she had not been around during the holidays to enjoy his constant moping.

“You think?” snorted Sissy from her chair.

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered.

“It’s all right,” said Martin, leaning back and opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I mean, at least it can’t get any worse, right?” he asked.

“Don’t ever say that,” said Corinna in a quiet voice.

Sophia gave a meaningful shudder and glanced at her friends. Sissy looked unbothered, except that she was wringing her throw in her hands instead of straightening it. Olivia was staring into the fire with a look of dread. Martin had a blank expression on his face.

“Care to explain?” asked Martin.

“I can’t,” Corinna shrugged. “It’s just that the vampire ... you know, hasn’t fed in a while,” she said nervously.

“Uncle Alastor has been looking for signs of it in the forest and patrolling the corridors during the hols. We’re safe,” said Martin firmly.

He chose not to mention the fact that the vampire was very elusive and nearly impossible for a lone Auror to track. His mother had offered to assist Alastor, but he had turned her down on account of the fact that she had taken leave to teach and needed to prepare. Martin thought the he was possibly trying to protect her as well, though in Martin’s opinion, his mum could take care of herself.

“I don’t know about that,” said Sissy with a hint of doubt in her voice. “It is a very powerful creature,” she added, thinking about what it had done to Professor Knowles. That still made her shiver a bit.

“I agree,” said Corinna.

“Well, maybe it’s gone. Given up or something,” shrugged Martin.

“I hope so,” said Sophia, who really didn’t care for the topic of discussion. It was going to give them all nightmares or something.

Corinna shifted uncomfortably on the divan and said, “We aren’t rid of it yet. I’m certain about that.”

Sissy regarded her a bit coolly and said, “If you know something, you should tell us. It might be of some use.”

“I only know that it’s coming back. I don’t know when, but it must be soon, or why would I know about it already?” she asked, looking at Martin. “And I think ... I know it’s going to hurt Martin’s uncle,” she added. Corinna held her breath, waiting for him to be angry.

“How bad?” he asked quietly. He wasn’t exactly surprised, and he certainly wasn’t angry at Corinna for telling him that. He merely felt concerned and anxious. For that moment he didn’t even think to doubt her.

Corinna closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

“But shouldn’t we warn him?” asked Sophia.

“I don’t know if it would help,” Corinna replied.

Martin knew what she meant about that. When they had tried to save Olivia from the vampire early in the term, his own life had been inadvertently risked, not that he minded so much now as everything had worked out as well as could be expected, except for Zabini, but that had probably been inevitable. He knew that Corinna was reluctant to attempt to change the future on more than a very small scale because the results were more than a little unpredictable. He wanted to be able to help his uncle, but he could hardly blame her for being reluctant. He was torn, as he also imagined Corinna was too.

“If we have some time ... perhaps you could try and think of a way,” suggested Martin.

“I’ve been trying. I’ve even talked to Professor Mallaghan about it a bit,” Corinna admitted. “I’m not certain, but I think he would want me to warn your uncle, but ... I don’t want to do anything that could make this worse.”

“You could always tell Martin and let him decide,” offered Olivia.

“That’s rather unfair though, isn’t it? Shifting the burden,” said Sissy with a carefully arched eyebrow.

“Tell all of us and decide by consensus?” asked Sophia.

“I’d rather not,” said Corinna quietly, sitting up and looking very sad and pensive.

“Not yet?” asked Martin.

“Right,” she nodded.

“I think it’s about time we go to bed,” said Sophia. The conversation had turned too morbid for her liking long ago. “We do have classes tomorrow,” she added as she stood and stretched.

“Of course,” Martin agreed with her, though he was anxious to continue his conversation with Corinna. “It can wait,” he told himself as he walked toward his own dormitory.

The next day went by uneventfully, which was something that the young Ravenclaws had come to be grateful for, but the day after that Martin found himself feeling a familiar sense of dread. It was one that he knew from the beginning of his time at Hogwarts, which had been a scant four months earlier. Then it had been associated with attempting to do his best under the watchful eye of his father. Now its source was his other parent, though it hardly made any difference. The feeling of worry and awkwardness was much the same.

“But she taught you at home, didn’t she?” asked Olivia as they stood outside the classroom after lunch.

Martin had got out of eating with his father, who was helping his mum with her curriculum as she had patently refused to continue with his lesson plans.

“A bit, but that wasn’t in front of other people,” he objected sullenly.

“Hardly anyone knows she’s your mum,” Sissy pointed out very quietly.

Martin glanced at the Gryffindor students who were waiting a good distance from them and thought, “Well, they won’t be figuring it out, and even if they did, she is their head of house now ...” That was the nicest thought he had had in days.

“You still haven’t let us meet her,” Olivia said with a slight pout. She had been saying such things since Christmas.

“After class?” he questioned.

“You’ve got to go to defense,” said Sophia, “and you shouldn’t be late because of us. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Maybe some other time then,” Martin shrugged.

“Let’s go inside. We’re wasting time,” said Sissy, watching the Gryffindors moving toward the door.

As they followed the other students inside, Martin spotted a gray tabby with peculiar markings lying on the desk at the front of the room. The cat appeared to be taking secretive glances at the class roster as the students entered. The feline glanced up at Martin and blinked warmly before resuming what it was doing.

As Martin and the girls sat down at their usual tables, Corinna commented, “What an unusual cat! Does it belong to the professor?”

Martin flushed an odd shade of pink, snatched a quill and scrap of parchment from his bag, and penned the following words to her: “That cat is my mother. Act surprised and impressed when she transforms.”

Corinna raised her eyebrows and tried to avoid looking at the cat again. She would surely give away that she knew if she did. She busied herself as best she could with her textbook.

Of course, the Gryffindors had no one to warn them. Martin grimaced as Lucy Withers glanced quickly at the open classroom door and left her seat, obviously meaning to have a closer look at the cat on the desk before the new instructor appeared. He tried to think of some way to warn her, but it was too late.

“Aren’t you a sweety,” the Gryffindor cooed softly, reaching to scratch the cat behind the ears.

The cat looked rather startled and shot up from its prone position, backing away from the girl with an uncommonly affronted expression on its face. The second year giggled.

“Oy, Withers,” called Li Chang, “you don’t want to be out of your seat when the new prof comes in, do you?”

Martin couldn’t say what Chang’s interest in the matter was, except maybe that he seemed to get along with her in class, but Lucy turned and said in response, “Don’t bully me. There’s still a minute or so before class starts.”

There was a soft pop behind her and all the students gasped ... before they began laughing and clapping. Miss Withers turned to see Professor McGonagall seated on her desk with a slightly wry look on her face. Martin grinned slightly at this.

“To your seat, Miss Winters, and in the future, leave any animal you might find in this classroom strictly alone,” said the new Transfigurations’ professor.

“Yes, Professor,” stammered Lucy, very much embarrassed by the whole thing. “That was brilliant,” Sissy whispered to Martin with a very impressed and approving look.

“As you may have guessed, I am taking over this class for Professor Dumbledore, who is now headmaster of this school. I have been briefed regarding his lesson plans and so forth for the class, and I have found them wanting. As of today you will be receiving more rigorous assignments that are better suited to your year and, hopefully, your skill level. This will require more reading, preparation, and studying on your parts. Since you have had it relatively easy until now, I expect no complaints nor any shilly-shallying regarding what is expected from you,” stated Professor McGonagall crisply.

“But this class should be a far more rewarding experience for you and a test of your talents in the area of magic known as Transfigurations, which unlike potions or astronomy, is an art and not a science. It is a subtle form of magic that has through the ages come to serve wizarding kind well and is an integral part of your magical education,” she continued.

“Have you any question?” she asked after pausing to take a breath.

A Gryffindor shyly raised his hand, and she nodded for him to ask his question.

“Are we going to learn what you just did?” he asked in a very hopeful tone.

“Studying to be an Animagus takes years of dedication and hard work. I am afraid that all of you are too young to begin this training, but perhaps in two or three years you may begin your studies in this area,” she answered coolly, though Martin could tell that this was not the sort of question she had been hoping for.

“Will you be here in two years, professor?” the young wizard asked with a frown.

“Most likely, no, but your next instructor should be able to teach all who are interested,” she replied. “Are there any questions regarding my expectations or the curriculum?” she inquired, glancing toward the Ravenclaws.

“Are we still doing the same sort of transfigurations? Living to nonliving material and vice versa?” asked Sissy, who had a mildly insouciant look on her face after listening to McGonagall’s speech to them.

She could hardly believe that this woman with her carefully pinned hair and air of strictness and propriety had been an Auror, much less a good one. As for her being Martin’s mother ... She just couldn’t see that either. Sissy felt certain that there had been some mistake.

“No, I’m afraid we will be doing a wide variety of transfigurations, some of which may fall into to those categories. I’ve designed a curriculum for the rest of the term with skill level in mind instead of such a narrow range of exercises,” answered McGonagall patiently.

Sissy frowned a little and asked, “And our marks? Will those remain the same?”

“For the work you have completed thus far, yes, but I will be grading on a stricter scale than my predecessor,” she answered.

The professor waited for more questions, but there were none, or at least none that her new students were willing to voice.

“Let’s begin ...” said McGonagall, glancing at the papers on her desk. “Please open your books to page three hundred and forty-eight and read the next ten pages,” she instructed.

The next twenty minutes or so was spent reading. The girls rather resented this as they were well-versed in the contents of their textbook and were rather bored by reading that section of text again. Corinna could almost swear that she knew the wooden object to glass object section by heart and was not at all daunted by the transfiguration of beaker-to-bookend recommended by the book. The other girls, not to mention Martin, felt much the same way.

“Now for a bit of practicum,” McGonagall announced once she had realized that everyone had finished. “Please choose a partner and take a glass beaker from the shelf over there,” she told them.

Martin sat down to work with Sophia and Olivia as usual. They would be sharing a beaker among the three of them. He felt quite nervous and hoped that the object was strong enough to take it.

“Mister Dumbledore, as you are part of a group of three, may I suggest working with Misters Shacklebolt and O’Rourke,” said the professor, pointing to two students in her own house. She looked a bit smug at having remembered their names.

“Professor Dumbledore always let me work with ...” he began to explain uncomfortably.

“I’m not interested in what your father did in this class. The Gryffindors do not bite,” she said, pursing her lips slightly.

“Yes, professor,” Martin agreed reluctantly.

He couldn’t understand why his mother was doing this, but he moved to join the two Gryffindors, who looked amused, but not unfriendly. Glancing back at the girls, he saw that they all appeared to be baffled as well.

“Tough shakes, eh?” asked Shacklebolt, gesturing for him to have a seat.

By the end of the lesson, he had reduced the glass container to bubbling brown goo seven times while his partners had completed the transfiguration correctly on their second try, both of them.

After class Martin said good-bye to the girls, who were finished for the day and off to the library to begin studying, and decided to speak to his mother for a moment. He was dying to know why she had separated him from his friends.

“Mum?” he asked after the classroom had cleared out. The next class would be there soon, he suspected.

“Yes, Martin?” she asked with smile, putting on her reading glasses for a moment as she examined a note her husband had made concerning the next class.

“Why couldn’t I work with Olivia and Sophia?” he asked bluntly.

Minerva looked up and frowned slightly.

“You wanted to work with them?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“I understand that they are your house mates, but they are a year older than you and young witches,” she said with a puzzled look on her face.

“And my friends. I’ve written you about them. I thought father might’ve too,” he said with a note of confusion and exasperation in his voice. “I don’t expect special treatment, but ...” he started to say.

His mother held up her hand and smiled. She looked a bit embarrassed.

“You never said that these friends of yours were older girls, Martin, I just assumed that they were first year students as well ...” she shrugged.

“Well, those four Ravenclaw girls are the friends I’ve told you about. They’ve been really great to me this term, and they want to meet you,” said Martin, feeling a little relieved and hoping that his mum wouldn’t make him work with the Gryffindors again. It wasn’t that he disliked them; he just found them a bit awkward to work with after becoming so accustomed to the Ravenclaw way of doing things.

Professor McGonagall smiled and said, “Bring them by my office ... your father’s old office ... after four o’clock, if you want. I would be glad to meet any of your friends.”

Martin remembered that Corinna didn’t start Quidditch practice again until the next week and said, “I’ll do that, unless they’re busy or something.”

“Very good,” she nodded.

“I’ve got to run to class now, mum,” he said, suddenly conscious of how far it was to the defense classroom. He would very nearly have to run.

Later that afternoon the four girls found themselves standing outside the office of the newly appointed Gryffindor head of house, waiting for Martin to summon the courage to knock. He was a bit jittery about his mother meeting his friends, although he couldn’t say why it bothered him exactly. Perhaps it was the look of annoyance on Sissy’s face regarding the earlier lesson. Or maybe the way Corinna was fidgeting and trying to make her hair look less messy. Or the way Olivia was anxiously chewing her lower lip. Or how Sophia was smoothing her already wrinkle-free robes.

After a nudge from Olivia, Martin knocked on the door and stepped back slightly.

“Come in,” called his mum from within the office.

Martin opened the door and ushered the girls inside with a murmured, “Ladies first.”

Stepping into the office, Olivia was a little surprised to find that it was done completely in Gryffindor colors. Martin was more than a little surprised as he had been rather accustomed to the hodgepodge of hues and colors that had defined the office when his father had been the professor of Transfigurations and Gryffindor’s head of house. His mother had obviously changed all the colors herself.

“I’ve had the house elves bring up some tea and ginger newts,” said Professor McGonagall, transfiguring the table by the window into one that would seat six comfortably. There were already plenty of chairs.

“Thank you, professor,” said Sissy, noticing that Martin was too busy gaping.

“I must admit that Martin has told me a lot about all of you, although he failed to mention that his closest friends were second years,” said McGonagall with very prim smile. “A lot of confusion could have been avoided,” she added, gesturing for them to have a seat.

A look of comprehension flashed in both Sissy and Sophia’s eyes. Sissy relaxed noticeably. She had been concerned that Professor McGonagall did not like them or resented their friendship with her son. Obviously this was not the case. Sophia had been likewise concerned. Of course, Sissy still had her doubts about Professor McGonagall, but those simple words had eased the most pertinent of them. She was, after all, only a temporary instructor.

“Martin’s been great this year,” said Olivia, grabbing a ginger newt and grinning. “I don’t know what we would do without him,” she added.

“Have a very boring year?” commented Corinna with a half-smile.

“We’ve had quite a few adventures together,” said Martin with a slight blush.

“I wouldn’t call them adventures, Martin,” said McGonagall with a trace of sternness in her voice. “I would call some of them nearly tragic incidents.”

Sissy frowned and said, “Surely you aren’t blaming Martin, professor? I mean, there is a vampire on the loose.”

“Not at all,” said the professor.

Martin, desperate to steer the conversation into less turbulent waters, commented, “They’ve certainly helped me with my studies. I bet I’m ahead of nearly every student in my year in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“And Transfigurations,” added Olivia. Then remembering the lesson that afternoon, she added, “Well, usually he is.”

“Defense, Martin? I thought you didn’t like that sort of thing,” commented Minerva with a slightly confused frown.

“I ... I don’t like it per se, but Sissy is so great at it and I’ve learned a lot from watching her,” he stammered awkwardly.

Sissy could not help looking smug as she took a sip of her tea.

Professor McGonagall seemed to look at her oddly for a moment before commenting, “Your father must be very proud. Defense was one of his better subjects too, although ...”

“... he seems to be good at everything,” Martin finished for her with a half-smile.

“Is Martin a lot like Professor Dumbledore?” asked Olivia as McGonagall chuckled in agreement.

“Oh, yes, he’s his father’s son in many ways,” Minerva replied.

“Then why does he always say I’m just like you?” asked Martin.

“Your father has an interesting sense of humor, or hadn’t you noticed?” she questioned with an affectionate smile.

Sophia and Olivia giggled quietly at this.

“What was Martin like as a child?” asked Corinna curiously.

Martin went scarlet to the ears and hastily told them, “I was just like I am now.”

“Oh, don’t be so bashful,” said his mother. “Let’s see ... he spoke fluent house elvish at one time. I believe it was when he was about four years old. It was very cute, although it required some years to break him of the er, ... habit of speaking it.”

“Mum!” protested Martin indignantly.

“Can you still do it?” asked Olivia with a huge grin.

“No,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, although this was not, strictly speaking, the truth.

“What else did Martin do?” asked Sissy with a sly look. She was hoping for some good blackmail material. Merely speaking house elvish did not quite cut it.

“When he was small, he would hide his father’s spectacles. I don’t understand why, but we would find them in the strangest places,” said his mother thoughtfully. “On the bookshelves, tucked between the sofa cushions, underneath his bed ... His father and I almost never found them when he slipped them into the broom closet.”

The girls all grinned at him, but Martin felt that he’d rather die than hear how cute they thought it was. Olivia pinched him and tittered quietly. He knew he would never live it down.

“I think he did it to keep his father at home,” Minerva admitted, shaking her head.

“I can’t remember,” he mumbled, but he suspected that this was the truth.

“Professor, I think you’re embarrassing him,” said Sophia, although she found it just as amusing as the other girls. She hid a smile behind her hand.

“Perhaps you’re right,” sighed Professor McGonagall, “but he’s growing up so fast. Soon I’ll be telling these stories to his...”

“Mum!” Martin objected, practically glowing scarlet.

Corinna and Olivia laughed out loud at this, but Sissy only looked prim and vaguely amused. Sophia was still trying to hide a wide grin behind her hand.

Professor McGonagall smiled too and said, “I suppose I shouldn’t keep all you any longer as I’m sure you have assignments that need to be completed, but it was wonderful meeting my son’s friends.”

“Thank you, professor,” said Sissy with a slight nod.

The others echoed her statement, except Martin who was glowering slightly.

McGonagall escorted them to the door and as they left Martin asked, “Did you really have to tell them about Father’s glasses?”

“Of course, dear,” she said with a prim look. “Just be grateful that I didn’t tell them anything really embarrassing.”

Martin went slightly pink again and hurried after the girls.

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