The Fire You Touch

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 7: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The reason she had become a cleaning lady in the first place, Aeryn told herself, was so she could easily pack up and leave town if anything unexpected came up. Unfortunately, simply up and leaving was much easier in theory than in reality.

She slammed the phone down in disgust as yet another of her previous employers hung up on her. "I would have given you advance notice if I had been given it," she grumbled.

After the first owl had fluttered into her room bearing the acceptance letter from Hogwarts, Aeryn had gone into a frenzied preparation for her trip to the wizarding school. She had sent an owl back to Dumbledore five minutes after his message, confirming her appearance at Hogwarts at three o’ clock the following day. Now, at one o’ clock on the following day, neither she nor Harry knew how to get there.

"Have you figured out how to work that stuff yet?" Aeryn called to Harry as she rushed into her bedroom. Her father’s old trunk was packed full with several pairs of clothes—long dresses, actually, they were the closest things to robes that Aeryn had in her closet—some of Harry’s old schoolbooks that he said he didn’t need, and her father’s wand. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was forgetting something.

"Not yet," Harry answered. He was pouring over one of his schoolbooks to find out the purpose of the small packet that had come with Aeryn’s letter of acceptance. They already knew it was Floo powder—according to the side of the packet, where FLOO POWDER was written in huge green letters—but beyond that, they were stumped.

After a desperate search through her trunk, Aeryn told herself firmly that if she was forgetting anything, she could probably buy it somewhere, and she shut and locked it.

"Will you be all right at Mrs. Figg’s for a week?" she asked Harry for the fifteenth time as she dragged her trunk out into the living room. The Dursleys weren’t due back at Privet drive for five more days, and with Aeryn leaving for Hogwarts, Harry had to live somewhere.

"I don’t mind," Harry answered for the fifteenth time, his scarred brow furrowing as he flipped through several more pages. "Honestly, Aeryn, it’ll be okay! I mean, I’d rather stay here, but I’ll be back at Hogwarts in about a month."

"I feel guilty leaving you," she admitted.

Harry made a face.

"Does this dress look robeish enough?" she asked, lifting her arms and spinning around once. She was wearing a long black tank dress. The small white flowers dotting the fabric didn’t look particularly wizardish to her, but she felt that the swirly, flowing skirt made up for the uncouth ornamentation.

Harry rolled his eyes and closed the book. "Aeryn. Stop worrying. You look fine." He sighed and picked up the packet of Floo powder. "Was there anything in your acceptance packet that says anything about using this stuff?"

Aeryn picked up the envelope from the coffee table and pulled out the contents. The only thing in it was her acceptance letter from McGonagall, and the small note from Dumbledore, which slipped from the letter and fluttered to the floor. She knelt to pick it up, and saw that the spidery green words had changed.

Floo powder provides transportation from one fireplace to another,

the note now read. Since you have no fireplace, I suggest you turn on one of your ranges on the stove instead. Take a pinch of Floo powder, toss it into the flames, and say in a clear voice "Albus Dumbledore’s office!" Then step into the fire. Best of luck, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry looked skeptical as Aeryn handed him the note. "D’you think it’ll work?"

"I don’t know. I hope so. It’d better."

Harry shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well, I trust what Dumbledore says," he said, but sounded slightly doubtful.

Aeryn felt that way too, but decided not to say anything. They stood there for an awkward moment, looking down at the note and at the Floo powder. "Well," Aeryn said finally, "I guess I’d better get you over to Mrs. Figg’s."

They glumly loaded Harry’s things into the back of the rental car, and Aeryn drove him to Mrs. Figg’s house. The crazy old lady was waiting for them, and Hedwig hooted morosely as Harry pulled her from the backseat.

"Well…’bye, Harry," Aeryn said as she handed him his duffel bag of clothes.

"You’ll lock my school stuff up at the Dursleys, right?" Harry asked.

Aeryn nodded. Now she felt really guilty.

"Stop it," Harry said, correctly reading the expression on her face. "I’ll be fine." A small grin split his face. "Besides, I’ll see you in a few weeks, right?"

"Right." Aeryn smiled back at him. "Well…have a good rest of your vacation."

"Holiday," Harry corrected her, winking. "You crazy Americans."

Aeryn laughed and pulled the boy into a quick hug. "See you at Hogwarts," she murmured. Harry gave her a final grin and lugged his things into Mrs. Figg’s house. As she drove out of the driveway, he turned and waved cheerfully. Aeryn sighed, feeling more alone than she had in a very long time as she drove away.

* * *

It was a good thing she had a gas powered stove, Aeryn mused as she turned on one of the ranges. How would she get to Hogwarts otherwise, through a bunch of candles?

The Dursleys’ house was spotless once more, and it had been a simple thing to lock Harry’s school things back up in the cupboard. The only thing out of place in their house was the small letter Aeryn had left on the kitchen table stating her resignation from their services. She had been tempted to tell the Dursleys how she truly felt about them, but the thought of Harry reined her back, and she settled for hiding Dudley’s Smelting stick underneath the couch.

She looked once more around the kitchen. She had already dropped the car back off at the rental station. The flat was paid for through several months, so if anything went wrong at Hogwarts, she’d have a place to come back home to. All she had to do now was leave.

Aeryn picked up the packet of Floo powder and opened it. After a moment’s hesitation, she crawled up on to the kitchen counter, heaving her trunk up after her. Crouching on the Formica tile, she drew a pinch of powder and gingerly tossed it into the tiny range fire.

The range roared into a huge, green sheet of flame that grazed the kitchen ceiling. Aeryn yelped, nearly falling off the counter. After a moment, when she realized she hadn’t been incinerated, she looked warily into the dancing emerald flames. She was supposed to step into this?

"You’ve got to be kidding me," she muttered. She looked down at her watch. It was two-fifty-five exactly.

She didn’t have much of a choice.

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the handle of her trunk. It was pretty cramped on her small counter, and for a fleeting instant, she pictured herself curled up at the edge of the stove. She must look ridiculous.

Stepping into those flames was going to be a problem. There was no room for her to stand up on the counter. She sat on the counter for a moment, puzzled. Hesitantly, she scooted across the Formica and stuck her feet into the flames. They didn’t burn off, so she gingerly shuffled the rest of her body onto the stove and half-stood on the range. She nearly fell off as the stove wobbled beneath her.

Aeryn closed her eyes and shot a brief prayer to the heavens. "Albus Dumbledore’s office!" she shouted with all the courage she could muster.

It was as if the floor had suddenly disappeared from beneath her feet. Aeryn’s stomach lurched as the green flames spun around her—cold hands brushed past her face, and she flinched away—now a heavy wind buffeted her hair around her face—she closed her eyes and clutched her trunk as tightly as she could—

"Good afternoon, Miss Blake."

Aeryn opened her eyes. She was standing in front of a fireplace in a large and beautiful circular room. A number of curious silver instruments puffed merry little wisps of smoke from various spindle-legged tables. Many beautiful pictures lined the walls and, with a start, Aeryn realized all the subjects in the pictures were looking curiously at her, several of them leaving their frames to whisper to their neighbors. A decrepit-looking bird stood miserably in a golden cage next to the door, and cheeped morosely at her. Aeryn bit her lip as five very odd-looking people, all wearing robes and milling about the chamber, turned and stared at her.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat behind a large claw-footed desk in the center of the room. He peered at her over his half-moon glasses. "I trust your travel went well?"

"Ah…yes." Aeryn’s stomach was still churning from the Floo experience, but she mustered up a smile and gestured over her shoulder. "I’ve never traveled…" Her voice trailed off as she looked behind her at a solid stone wall. "Er…" Hadn’t there been a fireplace behind her a few seconds ago? She looked back at Dumbledore, her face twisted in confusion.

"I don’t have a fireplace in my office, but I thought for the purposes of transportation, it would be easiest to have a temporary one installed until you arrived here." Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked around his desk, his purple robes trailing behind him. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at her. "It is a pleasure to finally have you here, Miss Blake. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Um," Aeryn said, her mind still puzzling over the fireplace.

Dumbledore motioned to a severe-looking woman wearing a green robe. Her black hair was pulled up into a tight bun and she stared unsmilingly at Aeryn through her square glasses. "This is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration," Dumbledore said as the woman stepped forward.

"Hello," Aeryn exclaimed, setting her trunk down on the floor and sticking out a hand. She recognized the name from her acceptance letter.

"Hello, Miss Blake," said Professor McGonagall, shaking Aeryn’s hand firmly. "I must commend you on your grasp of Transfiguration. Being able to change an inanimate object into a living creature is a skill we don’t expect from our students until their fourth year."

"Oh," Aeryn mumbled. Professor McGonagall was quite tall, and Aeryn suddenly felt like she was back in middle school again as this take-no-nonsense witch towered over her.

Professor McGonagall went on. "As it said in your letter, you have been accepted into the school, but you will need to be tested by the faculty to determine what classes are suitable for you." She smiled, a gesture that lightened her stern features considerably. "After observing you, Albus feels you have the aptitude to be taking second-level classes. We wouldn’t want to put you with the first-years and have you relearning everything you know."

"Of course not," Aeryn agreed weakly. But, actually, that idea didn’t sound bad. Harry was a second year student. At least she’d have classes with him…

Professor McGonagall must have heard the uncertainty in her voice, for she raised an eyebrow and looked at Aeryn disapprovingly. "Come now, Miss Blake, it’s not quite as bad as that."

Oops.

Aeryn raised her hands sheepishly. "It’s just that…well, I don’t really know a lot. About magic. I mean, I know some things, but…"

McGonagall’s face softened. "We know, Miss Blake. That’s why you’re here at Hogwarts, to learn about your magical powers."

If I had any… "So…if I don’t pass these faculty tests, I won’t get kicked out of Hogwarts?" she asked hopefully.

McGonagall snorted. "As long as you have the ability to do magic, Miss Blake, you will be a student at Hogwarts."

Aeryn forced a sickly grin onto her face. "Wonderful."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "We won’t really be testing you, Miss Blake," he explained. "You’ll meet with the staff over the next few weeks and take some ‘crash courses’ before the school year starts."

"So, no aptitude tests?" This deal kept getting better and better.

"You’ll have to pass the class exams before we can allow you to advance to the next level," McGonagall explained, "but Professor Dumbledore believes you should have no problem learning what you need to know."

Oh, of course not. It’s not the learning part I have a problem with…

"We’ll be teaching you some of the basics we expect students to know after their first year," said Professor McGonagall, stepping to Aeryn’s side and presenting the circular room with a sweep of her arm. "Professor Flitwick, our Charms professor, will help you with some beginning spells." She pointed to a tiny old wizard, dressed all in violet, standing near the golden birdcage. The little man bobbed his head in Aeryn’s direction, and she stifled an amused laugh. Standing straight, Professor Flitwick barely came up to her waist.

"Professor Sprout—" Here McGonagall pointed to a squat little witch with flyaway hair and dirt underneath her fingernails "—will teach you some Beginning Herbology." Aeryn liked Professor Sprout instantly when she wiggled her fingers quickly at her and mouthed a greeting. She also liked the professor’s patched hat. It had lots of character.

"Our usual professor for the Care of Magical Creatures is on holiday until the semester begins," McGonagall continued, "so Hagrid, our gamekeeper, will give you a brief—"

"Hagrid!" Aeryn blurted out, recognizing the name.

The huge man standing by the window started and peered at Aeryn in surprise. She could barely make out his beetle-black eyes from behind his shaggy mane of hair and his tangled beard. "Do I know yeh?" he asked doubtfully.

Aeryn shook her head, slightly ashamed at her outburst. "No, sorry," she apologized. "I just recognized. Harry—Harry Potter—he’s just told me a lot about you."

The giant man grinned fiercely. "Well, now!" he boomed. "Yeh know Harry, then? He’s a right good kid—better by half ‘n those rotten Muggles he lives with."

"Tell

me about it," Aeryn agreed. "I worked for them for two months, and I—"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat sharply, and Aeryn hastily swallowed her words.

"Er—but we can talk later," Hagrid said.

McGonagall motioned to the last remaining figure in the room, a tall, thin man with oily hair, a hooked nose, and a sallow face. "Our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will not be arriving for a few weeks, so our Potions master, Professor Snape, will be coaching you in those lessons as well as teaching you Beginning Potions."

Professor Snape glared unsmilingly at Aeryn. Aeryn had heard a lot about Professor Snape from Harry as well, but nothing too complimentary. According to Harry, the Potions master was a sarcastic sadist who would like nothing better than to get Harry expelled from Hogwarts. Aeryn wasn’t entirely sure how accurate Harry’s judgment was, but Snape certainly wasn’t going out of his way to present a friendly face to her.

Professor McGonagall nodded briefly at Snape and turned back to look at Aeryn. "I will be teaching you Transfiguration and some beginning Magical Theory and History."

Dumbledore raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Is Professor Binns indisposed?" he asked dryly.

Professor Binns was Harry’s most boring teacher. Apparently he had gotten up to teach one morning, not realizing he had left his body behind in an armchair in the staff room. He had continued teaching ever since, and his class was drier than the Sahara Desert. He sounded a lot like Aeryn’s old math teacher in seventh grade.

McGonagall shook her head. "I thought it would be more beneficial for Miss Blake to stay awake for her pre-class training."

Aeryn’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, and her estimation of Professor McGonagall went up several notches. Taking advantage of the lapse in conversation, Hagrid winked at her from across the room. Aeryn grinned back at him, the knot of nervousness in her stomach starting to dissolve.

"For the rest of the day, we’ll let you wander around Hogwarts to get yourself acquainted with the surroundings." McGonagall straightened her glasses. "Tomorrow morning at breakfast I will give you a complete schedule for your next few weeks." She strode over to the door of the chamber, her green robes trailing gracefully behind her. "If you’ll just follow me, Miss Blake, I’ll show you to your temporary chambers."

Aeryn wordlessly picked up her trunk and followed Professor McGonagall from the circular room. Dumbledore smiled knowingly at her as she passed him, and the decrepit bird cheeped weakly from its golden cage. But she could feel the cold stare of Professor Snape boring into the back of her head as she stepped from the room and into the stone corridor.

McGonagall led Aeryn through an intricate trail of winding hallways, long corridors, and twisting turns that seemed to go on forever. Aeryn hurried along at the professor’s heels, gaping in astonishment at the opulent decorations lining the walls. Flaming torches lined their way along the hallways, and carved gargoyles leered from shadowy corners. Aeryn tried not to jump when they passed a line of ancient armor and every helmet turned to watch her pass.

After leading her up a rickety staircase, Professor McGonagall finally stopped in front of a huge painting of a very large woman wearing a pink silk dress. "Haddock sandwich," she said matter-of-factly, tapping on the gilt frame.

"If you say so, Professor," the Fat Lady murmured, and the frame swung open to reveal a doorway. Aeryn stepped through after McGonagall, trying not to feel self-conscious as the Fat Lady cast a curious eye over her clothes and whispered, "Nice dress, my dear. Is it Muggle-made?"

Aeryn entered into a comfortable sitting room. There was a huge fireplace and large, comfortable chairs scattered everywhere. Everything in the room was decorated in a pattern of red and gold. Over the fireplace hung a scarlet banner with the symbol of a lion etched upon it in sparkling gold paint.

"This is the common room of Gryffindor Tower," Professor McGonagall explained, walking over to another door and opening up yet another stairway. "There are four Houses here at Hogwarts; Gryffindor—"

"Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," Aeryn finished. She had the pleasure of seeing McGonagall blink in surprise behind her square-rimmed glasses.

"I take it Mr. Potter has been briefing you on life here at Hogwarts."

"Sorta," Aeryn commented, looking around the room. The Gryffindor common room was warm and inviting. She could only imagine how noisy it must get, though, after a roaring Quidditch victory for Gryffindor.

"Once the semester begins, you will be placed in one of the Houses, but for now you will be staying in Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall motioned for Aeryn to follow her, and Aeryn lugged her trunk up yet another flight of stairs until they reached a bedroom lined with four-poster beds. Aeryn dropped her trunk at the foot of one of the beds, and noticed the trimmings were also scarlet-and-gold.

They sure pick a theme and stay with it.

"Dinner will be served at five-thirty in the Great Hall," McGonagall said, walking to the door. "Would you like me to come back and get you at that time? The castle can be difficult to navigate, especially for one who hasn’t been here before."

Aeryn almost shook her head to refuse, but thought better of it at the last minute. It would be just her luck that she would take a wrong turn and wind up in the depths of the dungeons with some troll for company. "That would be great, if you don’t mind."

Professor McGonagall nodded, and the tiniest smile ghosted across her lips. "I’ll allow you to get situated, Miss Blake." She walked from the room and shut the door.

Aeryn sat down on the bed. There was a huge picture window on the opposite wall, and from the bed she could see rolling green fields and a crystalline blue sky. Now that she was finally here, the nervousness was fading away and excitement was taking its place. If she could convince these teachers that she really belonged here—and if she could pass her tests—she’d be a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hey, Dad,

she thought as she ran a hand through the filmy drapes of her four-poster bed. Guess what? I did it…I’m finally here.

Hope I don’t disappoint you…

Aeryn got up and knelt down at the foot of her bed, opening her trunk and rummaging through to find Harry’s old schoolbooks. She did have a few hours until dinner. Time to brush up on a few things magical before meeting the professors again.