Divined Intervention

Chapter Three: Making the Rounds

Red and green whirled about in the sky, then scattered through the air like leaves in the wind. A loud crash, followed by the screams of a hundred children. An inhuman roar rang in her ears.

Blood. Pain. Fear. Darkness.

Falling.

Falling faster, bloody grass rushing towards her...

Maggie woke with a start, then a yelp.

She lay in the middle of a vast four-poster bed with gold and red curtains, staring around, wondering where her humble futon had gone, and who decided to replace her dingy white walls with stonework. With a shake, she remembered, and realized it wasn't just a dream. Was it? She reached out and touched the heavy velvet curtain, then stood on the cold stone floor for a moment before letting herself fall back into the soft bed.

"This is so weird." She sat up and looked out the window. The sun was high in the sky, illuminating a broad field of green. A tiny hut stood on the edge of a forest, and a very large man was standing beside it, tending to what looked like very large summer squash. She leaned back from the window, blinking hard. Mr... Hagrid, right? "This is really, REALLY weird."

She found her shoes and, shivering, pulled her white shirt back on over her tank top. Her wrist brace was still tucked in the breast pocket, and she slipped it onto her wrist with a sigh. The evening...morning?...previous hours's efforts had left her wrist throbbing unpleasantly, and the pressure of the tight brace wrestled it into something more manageable. A bundle of black cloth lay folded on the surface of a large desk in the corner, with a scroll of parchment on it. She cracked the seal, marveling slightly at actually getting something with a real wax seal on it, and read the note.

A gift from us, to ward off the chill. The hallways remain rather cool, even in the summer. I will be three doors down when you awaken. Please stop in. I will show you the way to the Great Hall.

--Minerva McGonagall

She unfolded the bundle. It was a robe of black velveteen-- not too heavy, but still warm and deliciously soft-- with a crest on the right lapel. A snake, a badger, a lion, and a raven, surrounding a letter H. Quite pretty, she thought, as she pulled it on over her clothes, trying to remember how the others had been wearing theirs. She settled for wearing it like a coat, open in the front, and examined herself in the mirror. The sleeves of the robe were a little too long and covered the brace admirably. The hem reached nearly to the floor, brushing it when she slouched her shoulders.

"I look like a graduate," she sighed wistfully to herself.

"Quite fetching on you, I think," the mirror said nonchalantly. She jumped and screamed, backpedaling into the corner of the desk. "Now, now...no need to shout. It does look nice on you, though your hair could use some work."

Maggie caught her breath, then looked closer at the mirror and shook her head, laughing and cursing herself. After the chatty portraits that she had encountered on the way to this room, why should a talking mirror come as a shock? She smoothed her hair down with shaking hands, then went to find Minerva.

By the time they arrived in the Great Hall, Maggie had decided three things about Hogwarts:

First and foremost, she decided the place was too damned BIG. Her feet, still aching from her long evening at The Fabric Zone, felt as though they would drop off after the long wander through the halls. She had no idea where she was at this point, and doubted she ever would. And she'd only seen the first floor.

Second, it was quite possibly the most bizarre place she would ever see in her life. Moving portraits that greeted her cordially, if curiously. Suits of armor that shifted for a better look. And the ghosts... she'd screamed like a little kid and hidden behind Minerva the first time the man with the dangling head popped through a wall. From the look of him, she scared him worse; he'd disappeared through the wall again with a little squeak. She was already too weirded out to ever consider sleeping in this castle ever again, and more awake than she had any right to be considering her body thought it was about 6:30 in the morning, Eastern Standard Time.

Third and last, she was more out of place than she ever had been anywhere in her life. The closest she could think of was when she went to her high school prom in jeans and a t-shirt because she was just taking tickets at the door. Here she was, strolling around a castle guided by a woman in flowing robes and a tall hat, wearing shorts and a tank top under her own robes, and wondering how the hell she got here in the first place. From her first glance around the dining hall, that feeling only multiplied.

They walked into the Great Hall together. She glanced at the single table in the center of the cavernous room and realized she was easily the youngest person there, and from the chatter, the only harsh American accent in a sea of civilized Brits and Scots. It was warm and sunny, the ceiling mirroring the brilliant blue summer sky outside, and the chill of the stone hallways was nearly forgotten. The length of them, however, was not, and she plopped into her seat at the table with an audible sigh of relief. The sigh was not lost on Dumbledore, who looked down the table at her and smiled.

"Everyone, please join me in welcoming Madam Margaret Carter, our new Divination instructor!" A round of polite applause made her grin bashfully and wave to everyone along both sides of the table. Hagrid sat down on the other end, his enthusiastic applause drowning out most of the rest and almost jostling a tiny man beside him off his chair. Dumbledore went around the table, gesturing to each in turn.

"Professor Estelle Sinistra, Astronomy." Sylvia nodded politely, smiling at her. Maggie returned the smile.

"Professor Tabitha Vector, Arithmancy." Tabitha grinned at her.

Maggie blinked, then smiled, a little embarrassed."Arith...mancy? Sounds intimidating."

"We'll have to talk sometime... I'm sure you'll find it fascinating." Maggie nodded politely, praying silently that her acute math phobia wasn't shining through half as brightly as she thought it surely was.

"Professor Filius Flitwick, Charms." The tiny man on the stack of books bowed. She grinned. He squeaked and nearly toppled, causing her to have to bite her lip very hard.

"Are you ok?" She started to rise to help him, trying not to giggle.

Minerva put a restraining hand on Maggie's arm and leaned in. "Don't worry, dear. He does that a lot." Sure enough, he clambered back onto the cushioned booster seat on his chair with a blush and a wave.

"Rubeus Hagrid, our Care of Magical Creatures instructor, you remember from the carriage..." The giant man blushed and nodded.

"'S a pleasure, ma'am."

Maggie beamed. "Magical creatures? Sweet!" She blushed, realizing her ignorance was showing again. Most of the rest of the table favored her with an indulgent glance. "We'll have to talk sometime." She studied her plate intently, trying to stop blushing. Fortunately, Hagrid seemed to be blushing about as much as she was, and his fervently eager nodding almost knocked poor Filius for another tumble.

"You've already met Severus, our Potions Master." He nodded curtly. She returned the nod, a twinge of guilt tweaking her stomach. She started to fiddle with her fork, but folded her hands in her lap instead. You HAD to mace him, didn't you? Dumbass. Thankfully, Dumbledore moved along swiftly.

"Madam Elvira Hooch is our Quidditch coach and Broom-flight Education instructor." She bowed slightly, and Maggie took a moment to disengage from the strange yellow eyes fixed on her. She nodded politely, trying not to look wigged.

"Professor Delphine Sprout teaches Herbology."

The plump woman across from her smiled warmly. "Albus tells me you studied Muggle herbology for a time?"

"Yes...yes I have." Maggie smiled in welcome relief, shoulders relaxing visibly. I'm not totally clueless. Thank every god. "We'll have to exchange notes and stuff." Delphine nodded happily, tattered hat bobbing. A twig fell from the side of her hat onto her plate, and she tucked it back into her hat nonchalantly. Maggie hid her smile behind her hand.

"And, of course, you've met Minerva, our Transfiguration professor." Dumbledore smiled at the assembly. "There are a couple other staff members, but they were held up by their duties. You'll meet them later, no doubt. But, before we eat, there is a small bit of business to attend to. Could you please come here, Margaret?"

Maggie stood and walked towards the head of the table nervously. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and the rest of the staff was whispering amongst themselves. Elvira and Delphine appeared to be slipping gold coins under their napkins, shaking hands under the table.

"Yessir?" She stood, hands clutched behind her back, looking all the world like a kid called to the principal's office. He chuckled.

"We have a tradition here at Hogwarts that all of the professors went through when they were students here. As you did not attend Hogwarts as a girl, I thought it might be a nice way to welcome you." He looked around the walls and pointed to the four different banners. "There are four houses where the students live, each one embodying different principles that the founders of the school held dear. Helga Hufflepuff valued hard work and determination in her students... Delphine is in charge of Hufflepuff House. Rowena Ravenclaw valued the brightest minds... that's Filius's house. Salazar Slytherin valued those with ambition and cunning. Severus heads Slytherin. And Godric Gryffindor, a bit of a warrior-scholar, favored those with adventurous hearts. That's Minerva's house... and mine, when I was a lad." The last was spoken as an aside, and Maggie grinned at him.

He leaned over to a side table and picked up a very old, very tattered hat. "This is the Sorting Hat. Its job is to see into your mind and see where you best belong." Maggie looked at it with a game smile and nodded slowly. "Shall we?"

She perched on the edge of Dumbledore's seat. "Go for it," she said, then giggled softly as it tipped forward over her eyes.

A voice whispered in her ear. My, you're old for a first-year!

Hey... don't remind me, she thought, a little irritably. I get to catch up seven years of schooling this year, while teaching impressionable young minds. And I'm not that old...I'm only... 27. Sigh. OK, I'm that old.

Sounds like a lot of hard work, the hat assented. Is that what brought you here?

Not really. That's what's scaring the hell out of me right now, actually.

A pause. A thirst for knowledge, then?

Well, any knowledge would be a nice change. I'm so clueless right now... She sighed again, this time out loud.

Quest for power? the hat prompted hopefully.

Her snort cut the question off. I don't think I'd pass the Evil Overlord exam... I wouldn't know what to do with loads of power. Never had it, don't really want it. I didn't even want to supervise my coworkers at the Fabric Zone. Teaching's going to be weird enough.

Why are you here, then?

Maggie thought for a moment. To fulfill my lifelong motto.

And that is?

She chuckled softly. May I live in interesting times. I hate to be bored.

And for the first time, she felt someone get the joke on all the levels she intended it.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, startling her almost to her feet. The table burst into applause as Dumbledore pulled the hat free. She blushed and walked back to her seat, bowing. Severus looked a little annoyed, but Filius and Delphine both smiled and congratulated her, and Minerva was positively beaming as she sat down next to her. Elvira winked at her, slipping her hand under Delphine's napkin with a smug grin.

"I had a feeling," Minerva whispered conspiratorially as Dumbledore clapped his hands and food appeared out of thin air before them.

Maggie whistled in appreciation. "OK. That is, by far, the best magic I've seen yet." She grinned broadly and accepted a plate of rolls from Delphine.

The food was amazingly good, and she ate enthusiastically. The pumpkin juice, sipped with trepidation at first, proved to be sweet and very refreshing. She did politely dodge something they called "black pudding," which looked a little too intimidating for her to handle after having met ghosts, talking paintings, and nine wizards all in the past hour. The chocolate pudding more than made up for it.

The conversation was just as interesting as the food, and she quickly became the center of it. Everyone seemed to want to learn about what she did in the non-magical, "Muggle" world, and how she'd "managed." They even seemed interested in hearing about The Fabric Zone. The attention was unnerving, but she did her best not to show it and answered their questions as best she could. In a way, it was almost comforting; they seemed as ignorant of her world as she was of theirs.

"You mean they actually take a needle and thread in hand and stitch fabric together to make things? Good heavens, I'd never have the patience!" Elvira chuckled. "I do know some rather nice Embroidery Charms... I'll have to show you my sampler." She caught a few surprised glances her way, and gave an annoyed look to Tabitha. "What? I'm not allowed to think of anything but Quidditch?" She snorted good-naturedly.

"What's the sampler of, then, Vi?" Tabitha sipped her pumpkin juice, eyes bright with restrained laughter.

Elvira poked at her food with her fork, eyes fixed on her plate. "Golden snitches through the ages," she muttered, much to everyone's amusement. "Hey, some of them had very intricate engraving...oh, sod it!" Delphine patted her arm comfortingly, and her grin came back readily.

Maggie chuckled along with the rest, desperately curious what this whole Quidditch thing was. All in due time... any more and your brain will explode. She sipped at her pumpkin juice and just let herself enjoy her surroundings, listening to the strange chatter and suddenly feeling rather contentedly drowsy. She shook herself just as Minerva looked her way and smiled.

"There are a few minor details that Albus and I need to discuss with you, when you're ready." Her businesslike aura had settled back in, though her eyes still sparkled merrily. Maggie nodded and pushed her seat back.

"Thanks, everyone, for the welcome. I can't wait to talk to you...all of you... very soon." She grinned, genuinely grateful, and bowed a little. It was only then she noticed Severus's seat was empty.

* * * * *

"There are a few matters of business that need to be attended to still, Margaret." Dumbledore sat down at his desk, folding his hands over a scroll of parchment.

Maggie looked at him from her seat, a little nervous. Friendly as he was, he was still a potential employer, and interviews always made her nervous. That it was a headmaster's office only compounded things... it had centuries of that "you're in trouble" vibe instilled into the stone. Her hands were folded tightly in her lap, clutching a bit of her robe to keep her nails from digging into the palm of her hands. Fawkes looked over at her and trilled softly, a few red feathers drifting down onto the carpet below.

He noticed her discomfort and smiled warmly. "You're in no trouble, Margaret. First, there is the matter of your affairs in the United States. We did take you from the country rather abruptly," he paused, his smile broadening. "If there are matters you wish to take care of... belongings you wish to have with you here... we can make arrangements for you to return home and attend to them."

Maggie sat up as though a bee had stung her. "Oh, MAN! The Zone is going to be so mad at me... I think I'm supposed to be at work today. And Tina's probably in a fit wondering why I never came home..." She slumped a little. "Man. This is going to be interesting. I'm guessing I can't really tell anyone about this... like they'd believe me..."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "The wizarding community works very hard at maintaining secrecy, Margaret. How you slipped through the cracks is a mystery to us all. Magical creatures, magic in general... it is crucial that they be shielded from Muggle eyes. When it was common knowledge..." He shook his head. "Bad things happened. Professor Binns would be happy to go on about it for days, should you wish to hear."

"Professor Binns? He wasn't at lunch."

"He's a ghost." He smiled as Maggie's eyes went round. "Devoted man... so absorbed in his teaching, he didn't even notice that he died. But, yes. If you need help in concocting a feasible tale, I would be happy to assist."

Maggie closed her eyes for a moment and thought. "Hmm. I got an opportunity from one of my regular customers for a full grant to a UK-based writing program, based on a piece I gave her ages ago. Catch is, I leave this weekend." She opened her eyes and smiled. Dumbledore seemed impressed. "Tina won't buy it, but my job and everyone else will. Tina... I can handle in my own way."

Minerva and Dumbledore looked at each other, eyebrows arched. "Are you sure the Sorting Hat read her right?" Minerva murmured, a slight smirk flickering across her face. "Sounds like she and Severus would have quite a time." Another look crossed her face. "But then, we did have Fred and George Weasley."

Maggie shifted a little, looking uncomfortable. Lying wasn't one of the skills she was terribly proud of. "Umm... actually... I had a similar opportunity last year. Three months in Arizona, working at a festival and writing about it. It was too expensive, though..." She shrugged. "I think it'll fly." Dumbledore's eyes were still sparkling with no sign of disapproval, so she relaxed a little into the chair and released the worried bit of velveteen from her hand.

"Very well, then. Item number two." Dumbledore pushed the scroll of parchment across the desk to Maggie. "The American Magical Association was very contrite about their tragic oversight. At least, they were when Minerva was finished with them." Minerva hid a triumphant smile behind a thoughtfully-placed hand. Dumbledore looked at his colleague fondly, then back to Maggie.

Maggie cocked her head, intent on the scroll, flicking the ornate red, white, and blue wax seal open with her thumbnail. It unrolled, and unrolled, and unrolled..."Yiii... reads like American bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo, all right." The scroll spilled off her lap onto the floor, and she scanned along the lines of complex jargon with a practiced eye. "Good thing I'm used to reading legalese... years of dodging creditors finally pay off." She paused, squinting at the final passage in the text. "Now, it says they're giving me a settlement of... 10,000 galleons?" Her eyebrows arched. "Huh? What am I going to do with a fleet of warships? I'm lousy on water."

Dumbledore and Minerva looked at each other in confusion, then laughed. "Galleons are wizarding currency. That sum... well done, Minerva!... should keep you in fair comfort until you are established in a wizarding trade...and aids admirably in the next order of business." Dumbledore patted Minerva's hand with a wink. She was blushing with a very self-satisfied smile.

"That being...?" Maggie leaned forward, curious.

Minerva sat down next to her. "Outfitting yourself. I have some errands to run in Diagon Alley this week, in preparation for the coming school year. I would be more than happy to lend you a hand in getting yourself squared away with wizarding supplies and the like."

Maggie grinned eagerly. "Mmm...shopping run! This task, I'm more than happy to undertake." She looked down at the robe she was wearing, mused a moment, then looked over at Minerva and Dumbledore. "I'm guessing my regular wardrobe won't cut it here. You'll have to show me how to properly wear one of these things, too. I have the distinct feeling I'm being rather casual about it." She fastened the top clasp of her robe, trying to look nonchalant.

Minerva scrutinized her for a moment. "I think it is perhaps the short pants. No matter. You will be outfitted befitting a Hogwarts instructor in no time, and it will give us time to get you introduced to wizarding society on the whole."

"Educational shopping field trip. Right." Maggie nodded, looking as serious as she could muster while faced with the prospect of spending a large sum of newly-acquired strange money on really cool magical things. Usually, all of her money went towards bills and the occasional late-night movie. "Any other business?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "If it is all settled, then, and you do wish to join us?"

Maggie paused and thought about it seriously for the first time.

I'm leaving my whole life behind.

She ticked things off...places, things, names...

Ryan... no big loss. Tina... genuinely enormous loss. My job... no loss at all. My friends...get off it, Mags. That's why God made stamps

When will you ever have this chance again?

She steeled herself a moment. Here's to interesting times...

"Sold." She exhaled, feeling the weight of indecision lifting. "I'm all yours. You teach me, I'll teach your students, and we'll have a big educational good time." She smiled and extended her hand. Dumbledore clasped it enthusiastically, then handed her off to Minerva, who repeated the process with vigor.

"Welcome! Minerva can show you where your office and residence will be, and I will see to arranging your trip home." He reached down and produced a small whistle from the top of his desk. It sounded a little like an owl hooting. As they exited the office, she heard the flutter of wings at a window, and glanced back to see him tie a note to the leg of a seizable screech owl.

Curioser and curioser... She shook her head. When do I see the rabbit hole?

* * * * *

"Greetings, fair damsels... would you care for an escort to your destination?" The strange small man in armor bowed low to them as they approached his portrait frame. "Sir Cadogan would be most grateful to be by the side of two such lovely ladies." He winked at Maggie slyly. She giggled and curtsied.

"Why, thank you, good sir." She looked over at Minerva, who was looking terribly unamused and stern. She leaned in close to her stolid companion with a wink. "I get lost easy... it'd be nice to have someone, wacky though he may be, who can show me how to get to my office if I get hopelessly turned around." Minerva nodded slowly, then nodded curtly at Sir Cadogan. He gave a gleeful leap, and caught the reins of a pony from the edge of the frame and hauled him towards a fence with much effort. After a moment's rearranging of armor pieces and two failed attempts to climb the fence, the pony knelt with a look of exasperation, and the diminutive knight mounted triumphantly.

"To adventure!" The knight spurred his fat pony, and the three were off down the hallway. Maggie was fervently wishing that she could borrow a pony as well. The seven flights of stairs had just about killed what was left of her feet, and the corridor looked interminable. When they reached the end, Sir Cadogan bowed and stood watching them. Maggie looked around, confused.

"Umm..." she began, and then dodged as a silver ladder unrolled almost on top of her. Minerva jumped back a step.

"I'm terribly sorry, Margaret. I never used to come up here unless I had to." She looked a little abashed. "Professor Trelawney and I had... professional differences."

Maggie looked up the ladder. One rabbit hole, as requested. "If you guys stuffed her all the way up here, I'm guessing you aren't the only one." Realization landed dully on her shoulders. She looked a little forlorn. "Lemme guess... Divination is about as credible an art here as in the Muggle world, right?" She gave a resigned grin at Minerva's uncomfortable look. "It's OK I'm used to it. Really. We're kinda flakey, kinda fruity, and talk about stuff that may or may not come true because the future is always changing, and if we tell you about it, it's just that much more likely to change. I really don't know why anyone would want to learn about it, because it just means a lifetime of cutesy jokes and fun nicknames at your expense."

Minerva goggled at her, professional veneer fading for a moment in her surprise at Maggie's candor. Maggie patted her arm.

"Really. I'm used to it, and I'll be sure to let the kids know right up front as well. It's not easy, but it's what I do. I... It kinda called me, and I had to answer or face inadvertently scrying into every mirror I walked past for the rest of my life." She shrugged and smiled. "I guess it's kind of like the rest of this magic stuff. Restraining it only made it worse. I couldn't brush my hair for a while without seeing weird symbols around my head until I started working on focusing it." The smile became more mischievous. "Besides, it's fun at parties, and kept me in rent and food during the really bad months. And, between you and me, guys dig the spooky fortuneteller chick." She winked.

Minerva allowed herself a smile. "Just tell me one thing."

"Shoot."

"Do you usually greet your clientele with long, vivid death predictions?" Minerva scrutinized her intently. Maggie blanched.

"Holy sh....god, no! No! Never." Outrage gave way to solemnity. "That is a horrid practice, and obscenely unprofessional... I've smacked down a few people for doing it in my presence. Even if I do see..." She swallowed hard, and her voice softened for a moment. "If I do see anything like that, I do my best to soften it or just tell the person to be very cautious. I never say you're going to drop dead. They never believe it anyways..." Her eyes shot back up the ladder. Her voice took a tinny cheerfulness. "So, what's up this ladder, anyway?"

Minerva's eyes were wide. "Margaret, I'm sorry...did I...?" She broke the question off, sensing a seizable social gaffe. "I was only joking. Professor Trelawney had a bad habit of predicting..." Maggie shook her head and smiled a strange smile. She dropped it. "Up this ladder is your classroom. Shall we?"

Maggie gave a wan smile. "Ladders, huh? Figures." She grasped a rung with her left hand, braced her right wrist against another, and began climbing, steadying herself hand over forearm. The ladder swayed a bit, but she managed the climb.

"I'll see if Argus can find a better way for you to get to your room." Minerva looked at Maggie's right hand, noticing the beige wristwrap for the first time. "Is it...bad? The discomfort?"

Maggie shrugged, adjusting the brace self-consciously. "Nah, not unless I try to use it for anything more than a really fancy arm decoration." She grinned a little. "Repetitive stress injury... it's not much of a hindrance to my divination, but it's a royal pain when I'm working at The Zone... writing, cutting fabric... I've had to learn to use my left hand and a few little cheats here and there." She looked worried. "I should have told Professor Dumbledore...will that affect me working here?"

Minerva smiled reassuringly. "Of course not, Margaret. I was just thinking that perhaps we should see Madam Pomfrey. She's a highly skilled mediwizard, and might be able to help you with it."

"Cool. I'd really appreciate that." Maggie finally looked around herself, coughing slightly at the residual strong scent of incense.

"Dear god. This place couldn't get more cliché if you paid it." Tiny tables surrounded by fluffy little poufs and frilly chintz armchairs filled the room. A fireplace stood bare, as did most of the low bookshelves and knickknack racks. A row of crystal balls glinted in the light from one of the heavily-curtained windows. Dim, red light filled the room.

Maggie sighed heavily. "I feel like a total wack-job already. The spirits caaaall me...oooga booga," she said dryly, waving her hands in the air in pseudo-mystical gestures. Minerva watched, stifling laughter so hard that she was weeping. Maggie flashed a wicked grin. "Daaaaark tidings await ye who giggle at my ominous predictions!" she thundered, pointing at Minerva dramatically before collapsing in a fit of giggles. Within moments, both were hooting and cackling helplessly, sinking into chairs to try and catch their breath.

"Do...you think...Professor Dumbledore...would mind terribly...if I redecorated a little?" Maggie gasped, wheezing slightly. Minerva shook her head, still giggling a little.

 "Bless you for coming, Mar...Maggie." Minerva wiped her eyes. "I sense a brighter future already."