Martin Miggs and the School of Wizardry

Hogwarts

Martin and Penrose returned to the Ministry building at the conclusion of the interview, and Martin rushed to his flat as quickly as possible and began the unwelcome task of clearing it of his possessions. Because of the Memory Charm that had been cast on him, the place that he had shared with his family was the last link he had with them. There was much less to clear out than he had remembered from his happier days; apparently he had disposed of most of Claire and Elizabeth's things from the apartment during the seven years of their absence, and all that remained were the clothes that Elizabeth had worn home from the hospital, a photo of the three of them at Milton Keynes on a holiday, and a velvet box with three rings inside of it. He noticed for the first time that his ring finger no longer had the thin pale spot that the gold band had pressed on it; he had quit wearing the ring some time ago. He wondered if he had been seeing any other women during the interim, but he was sure that there would be some sign of it, and so he concluded that he had done little if any dating. Even if he had, whatever adjustment to life without Claire that he had made was now forgotten; she may have been dead for seven years, but as far as he felt he had been a widower for only a day. He put on the ring that had been his, and put the other two in the trunk of things that he planned to take to the castle.

A lot of his own possessions were gone as well; as a widower he seemed to have lived a Spartan existence, as far a material comforts went, and he found evidence of no hobbies, except pursuit of whomever had murdered his family. This last fact was evidenced mostly by a lengthy, multi-volume log, stretching back a little over two years. At a certain stage he appeared to have imbibed a fear of being discovered, and had transcribed the entirety of the log into a cipher to which he could no longer remember the key. He put the log into his trunk.

He wound up giving most of the furniture and housewares to Dierdre and her husband, Roger, and had them hold onto everything that he could not pack into the trunk that he was taking to the school. They were in and out of his flat all weekend, mostly talking about what they would do with this or that piece of furniture. On Sunday evening, when it was all gone, he handed Roger the key to the flat and dragged his trunk to where Penrose was going to meet him.

A short walk to the Ministry, followed by another trip by Floo powder, brought them to the Three Broomsticks again. It was in the evening, and the pub was much more crowded. Charity Burbage, who had been waiting for them, approached them at once. "I'll take over from here, Penrose."

"Thank you, Professor." He tossed some more powder into the fire, stepped into the green flame, and vanished.

She conducted Martin outside. "No need to drag that thing around," she said, and she pointed the trunk. "Locomotor trunk!" she said, and the trunk rose into the air. "Much better." They set off towards the north.

The evening was darkening, but it was not too dark for Martin to spot the large ruin that appeared to lie just outside of the village. "How old is that ruined castle there?" he asked.

"That is Hogwarts," Burbage replied. "It has been enchanted so that non-magical people such as yourself see it the way you do now. Here, let me give you this." She rummaged through her robes, producing a ordinary-looking wristwatch. "Put this on," she said, handing it to Martin.

He took off the watch he had on, slipped that into his pocket, and put on the one given to him.

"Your electronic watch will not work properly in most of the castle, so this is a way of killing two dragons with one hex," she explained. "Now, tell me what you see."

Martin looked up and saw that the almost-shapeless heap of rubble was now a large, well-kept castle with towers everywhere, and lights coming from most of the windows. "Amazing."

"The watch keeps the enchantment from working on you. There are similar enchantments at the border of the village, so when passing in and out you will need to weat the watch then, as well."

"Will I be living in Hogsmeade?"

"Oh no. The room and board is provided in the castle."

They continued in silence until the reached a gate in the wall that surrounded the castle grounds. The gates, which were flanked by statues in the shape of winged boars, were open, and coming outside that very moment was the very largest man Martin had ever seen; he had to be at least eight feet tall, if not more, and was dressed and groomed like a backwoodsman. "Good evenin', Perfessor Burbage," he said.

"Good evening, Hagrid. Let me introduce you to Martin Miggs."

"Not that Muggle fellow?"

She nodded. "He has business up in the castle. Martin, meet Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper here at Hogwarts."

Martin's hand completely disappeared into Hagrid's as they shook hands. "Pleased ter meet you," Hagrid said.

Burbage and Hagrid bid each other a good evening, and they parted. "You can see the greenhouses, right here," she said to Martin, waving an arm towards a set of greenhouses to their left. "That's dragon dung you smell, of course."

"Dragon dung?"

"Yes, of course. Best fertilizer there is. Madam Sprout won't settle for anything less."

"So there really are dragons?"

"Oh, yes," Burbage replied, as if Martin has asked whether there was such a thing as trees. "The Ministry have led you to believe that they're mythical, of course, but that is merely an elaborate ruse."

"Are they particularly common?"

"Thankfully, no, although there are enough of them to keep the Ministry busy with damage control."

As the went by the greenhouses, Martin noticed a sign, which was bearely legible in the growing darkness: DANGER. MANDRAKE HANDLING IN PROGRESS. HEARING PROTECTION REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT.

"What is it about Mandrakes that requires hearing protection?"

"They scream," Burbage replied. "The sound is fatal if you get too close." She noticed the look on Martin's face. "And I see that this is something else you don't know about."

Martin gave a wry smile and a nod.

"You may find it comforting to know that not everybody agrees with the Ministry on the anti-Muggle secrecy." She pointed off in the other direction. "Over there you can see the Forbidden Forest."

"Forbidden? What, is it full of werewolves and goblins and all that?"

"Not goblins, no, they all work in Gringott's. But there are lots of creatures that are too much for the students to handle, and some that want to be left alone, so we don't let the students in there alone."

The reached the castle proper. After passing through the entrance hall, they came into a much larger hall, which held five tables, four that ran the length of the hall, and one that ran across a low platform at the far end of the hall. The four tables were lined with students, while the fifth table hosted only adults.

"This is the Great Hall," Burbage said. "This is where the meals are served."

Martin looked around, and then up, and was surprised to see the clearing sky overhead, sprinkled with a few stars. "Why isn't there a roof here?"

"There is," she replied. "It's enchanted so that you can see the weather outside." She took him up to the head table, where some of the faculty was eating supper.

"Good evening, Professor Burbage," said one of them, who was as small as Hagrid was large. "Is this the new Muggle Studies teacher?"

She nodded. "Professor Miggs, meet Professor Flitwick. He teaches Charms, and is Head of House for Ravenclaw."

"Pleased to meet you," Martin said as they shook hands.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Flitwick said, in a voice brimming with natural enthusiasm.

Burbage next introduced a brown-haired lady in deep velvet robes as the Astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra. Martin was mostly glad to hear of a subject that he had at least heard of, but he kept this to himself as he shook hands with her.

"Won't you two join us?" asked Flitwick.

"Don't see any reason why not," Burbage said, and led Martin around to seats near the other two. She sat down, and helped herself to the nearest bowl. Martin followed suit, and found himself sampling what turned out to be very good goulash.

While he ate, he looked around at the students. They were all wearing black robes, with white shirts underneath, but with differently colored ties. There turned out to be four different colors of ties, and he noted that the students wearing a given color tended to all sit at the same table; he guessed that the tie colors represented the colors peculiar to each house.

When they were finished eating, Burbage led him out of the Great Hall by a different way. They went up three stairways, pausing to rest for a moment after climbing the second and third flights, and then down a couple of corridors. They paused before one of the doors while a group of students passed, and then went into the room beyond.

"This is the classroom," she said. They crossed the room to the door opposite, which opened to some stairs going up. "Up there are your quarters. Most of the Hogwarts staff have their living space adjacent to their classrooms, but these have been vacant since I married Dennis five years ago. We live in the village, you see. But I've told Rinkle to get them ready for you."

"Who's Rinkle?"

"Rinkle is one of the house elves. They do all of, well, what you Muggles know of as 'servant's work,' here in the castle." She noticed the way Martin was examining the walls at the bottom of the stairs. "Is something wrong?"

Martin had in fact been looking for a light switch, and said so.

"Oh, sorry," she said, smiling slightly. "I should have expected this. There's no electricity here in the castle. You'll have to use a lamp."

Martin shrugged. "So what will my duties entail?"

"You have five classes. Muggle Studies is optional, offered to students in the third through seventh years. As Dumbledore mentioned, you will also be giving remedial tutoring for students whose reading and writing skills fall short. Professor Vector, who teaches Arithmancy, teaches Remedial Mathematics, although you may offer her your assistance if you want to get on her good side. Your class load will be quite light, averaging about twenty hours per week. The bulk of your time will spent on your Muggle Liaison duties."

"How difficult are those?"

"It's mostly a matter of escorting the Muggle parents around the castle. There is often a degree of crisis management involved."

Martin brightened. "My own nephew is a student here. Maybe his parents will visit."

"Don't be hopeful; parental visits are rarely for a good reason. In any event, we have found that it's best for someone who understands Muggles to deal with the student's parents when it becomes necessary to communicate with them. Normally the position is filled by a Muggle-born witch or wizard such as myself."

"I see."

"I'd already sketched out my lesson plan for the first term, and you should have little difficulty getting up to speed. When you've had a look at it, you should read a history of the school. There is a copy there on the desk."

Martin nodded.

"The liaison duties, on the other hand, can be quite involved, and there's not really much I can do to prepare you for them."

"Surprise of the day?"

"I've never claimed to know what to expect," she replied. "Being a Muggle yourself, you may be better able to anticipate their behavior."

Martin nodded and glanced around the room. "How much longer will you be around the school?"

"Long enough to walk to the gates. I really should have been getting more rest already, and you certainly can see that I'm no friend of all of these stairs. But if you need my help, just send me an owl."

Martin had no idea what sending an owl, meant, but he put that question out of his mind. "Well, thank you very much for your help," he said, and put out his hand.

She shook it. "I'll have Filch bring you a lamp."

"Thank you, Professor."

She left, and Martin sat down at the desk and started reading. The class outlines were relatively straightforward, as they all referenced the passages in the textbook; Martin read the relevant passages for the next day's classes and set the notes aside. As he did so there was a knock at the door, and a rather raggedly-dressed man came limping in.

"Are you the new Muggle Studies teacher?" the man asked.

Martin rose. "Yes, yes I am. Martin Miggs."

"Argus Filch. Caretaker." He came forward and offered the lamp, and after some hesitation he returned Martin's handshake as well. "Ev'nin'," he said, and turned on his heel and left.

"Good evening," Martin said to his back, and he sat back down to resume his reading. The other book was titled Hogwarts, a History. He opened it up and read about the four witches and wizards who had founded the school, the establishment of the four houses, the departure of one of the founders, and a synopsis of the tenures of the thirty-one headmasters and headmistresses who had run the school since the demise of the last founder. Martin learned that in addition there was even more security against unwanted wizards than there was against unwanted Muggles, mostly because a small handful of spells kept the Muggles away, whereas there were spells to keep wizards from using brooms, Apparation, or Portkeys to enter the school grounds, although Martin had no idea what either of the latter two were. There were chapters devoted to the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Cup, and even a chamber that one of the founders had built but which nobody could find.

He had found himself dozing for the second time when he decided to turn in for the night. He dressed for bed, got in, and despite being on the most comfortable mattress he had ever felt, the events of the day kept him awake until some time after midnight, when he finally fell asleep.