Divined Intervention

"I dream of rainÂ… I dream of gardens in the desert sandÂ…" Her hair fanned out in a long, flaring banner behind her as she spun in the early morning sunlight, pausing only to let the beams warm her face through the window. The view was breathtaking.

Sir Cadogan fell out of frame for an instant, then recovered his footing. "On my sword, madam! Thou art a temptress."

Maggie bowed without skipping a beat in her impromptu dance, half-skipping, half-shimmying down the corridor. Energy was coursing through her like a strong summer breeze, warm and full of life. She slid down the banister for two flights before attempting to rein herself in.

The Great Hall was still relatively empty of people, but apparently Hagrid and Argus had been busy. Four long tables filled the space that had previously housed only the faculty table. Minerva, Tabitha, and Dumbledore sat at a table all the way at the other end on the raised portion of the hall. Dumbledore looked up at her approach and smiled warmly.

"MargaretÂ… up early this morning? You seem in fine spirits." He rose and pulled out her chair for her. She grinned up at him, blushing a little.

"It's a beautiful morning." She sat down, unable and unwilling to smother the broad grin.

"Indeed it is. Alas, I must be off to do last-minute preparationsÂ… Welcoming Feast to plan and all." He winked at her. "Enjoy your day, everyone. Last day of holiday, you know." He strode out of the hall in a swirl of ruby velvet.

Tabitha scrutinized her for a long moment. With a snide look, she drawled, "You're all prepared for the start of term, then?"

Maggie's contented hum found itself blocked by a lump in her throat. She coughed and sipped at her coffee. "Actually, yeah, I am. Finished the lesson plan last night, just have to shuffle the tarot decks." Her confident smile held a little bit of fang to it. She bit into her toast aggressively, and Tabitha looked to her plate.

Minerva leaned over to her. "You are downright giddy, Maggie. Studies going well?"

"Something like that." Maggie poked her eggs with her fork, letting the yolks run into a small golden puddle in the center of her plate. "I found a study aid, in the form ofÂ…" She glanced up just as Elvira and Delphine made their way into the hall. She waved enthusiastically at them, and received yawns in reply. "Â…those two, actually. They were kind enough to look over my lesson plans."

Tabitha couldn't restrain her snort. "Well, then, they'll be in fine order." Maggie growled softly, searching for a retort.

""Lo, Tabby? Joining us for the jaunt to the Three Broomsticks tonight? Karaoke, margaritas, all that lot?" Elvira thumped Tabitha on the back, dipping her nose into her pumpkin juice.

Tabitha wiped her face with her napkin, forcing a polite smile. "Unfortunately, no. It appears that the celestial alignment that I was helping Estelle observe is tonight, not next week. Priorities, you know." The last was accompanied by a rather haughty head-toss.

Elvira clucked her tongue. "Damn shame, that." She swigged her pumpkin juice and elbowed Delphine in one fluid movement, winking at Maggie. Delphine became very interested in dotting her porridge with blueberries.

Minerva rolled her eyes at the lot of them and sipped her tea daintily. Elvira looked over to her. "Come on, Minerva! Just this once? Maggie, do help us on this. Minerva has never once joined us for the Last Night party, and it's high time she did."

Maggie turned in her chair. "Oh, come on! Come with usÂ… it'll be great. We won't even make you sing!" She cast a glance at Elvira. "Wait, you aren't gonna make me sing, are you?"

"Oh, you bet we are." Delphine tossed a blueberry at Maggie. "I heard you in the corridor from outside, Madam Desert Rose. You are singing if we have to truss you and toss you up there."

Maggie stuck her tongue out at her, then turned back to Minerva. "See? You have to come see me make a total ass of myself!"

"Now I truly regret not being able to attend." Tabitha set her glass down and stood up, brushing crumbs from her violet robe. Maggie squinted at her as she left.

Minerva shook her head, chuckling softly. "Alas, ladies, I must leave it to the younger generation. My bedtime is far too early for the likes of you."

"Oh, you are no fun." Elvira made a face at her. "It's not like you're that much older than Del and I."

"Perhaps she just prefers to maintain her dignity, as befitting a Hogwart's professor." Severus took his seat at the other end of the table, arching his brow at the giggling women.

Elvira snorted. "I'm guessing that you won't be attending, either?" She leaned over to Maggie. "Just as wellÂ… I've heard him sing." She ignored the glare and chugged her pumpkin juice. Maggie stifled her snicker in her own glass.

Severus turned to Minerva. "So, has Sir Nicholas found you yet?"

"No. Was he looking for me?" She cocked her head, eyeing Severus curiously. The rest ceased their giggling for a moment, equally curious.

"Indeed he was. He was most insistent that there was a new ghost in the castle last night." He looked to Maggie with a twisted grin. "Seemed to think that the Divination Tower is hauntedÂ… heard ethereal music, and saw a luminous figure dancing. Not one I've heard tell of in Hogwarts: A History, I assure you. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary, Madam Carter?"

Maggie's eyes widened a little. Delphine and Elvira looked at each other, faces blanking. Crap. "Umm, no. Vi and Delly helped me with my lesson plans, then I headed off to bed." She shrugged. "No ghosts that I sawÂ… well, no more than usual. Maybe it was PeevesÂ… he seems to have it in for me."

"Alas, it was Peeves who first brought the spirit to his attention. Seemed quite frightened of her." Severus's eyes glittered a little over his teacup. "It takes something very unusual to worry him. I'd be curious to see what it was."

Maggie's heart sank. So much for late-night dance sessions. "Yeah, me too." She slid her seat back and excused herself, heading back to her tower more morose than ever.

*************

"You packed yet, boy?" Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway of Harry's room, hands on his hips.

Harry didn't look up from his book. "I never unpacked."

Vernon harrumphed through his mustache. "Good. Be ready to go early in the morning tomorrow. It'll be good to be rid of you again."

"It'll be good to be gotten rid of." Harry's knuckles were white as the door slammed closed once more.

**************

"Ron! Have you even begun to pack?" Molly Weasely stood in the doorway of the flaming-orange bedroom, staring up at her sixteen-year-old son sternly, a pair of socks dangling from within her crossed arms.

Ron shrank a few inches. "Was just about to, Mum. Honest!" He raised his hands in surrender. "I'll start now."

"Really! You'd think you hadn't had to do this for the past five years." She softened a little, patting him on the arm. "Heavens, but you've grown so since then. My baby." She pinched his cheek, a tear welling. She dabbed at it with the socks in her hand before dropping them onto the folded laundry in his basket.

Ron rolled his eyes and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Oh, MumÂ…" She wrapped her arms around him unexpectedly, and his eyes widened. "Mum? Are you all right?"

She nodded, releasing him. "Of course, dear. I justÂ… With all that's happened in the past five yearsÂ…" She swallowed hard, feigning a cheery smile. "You've just grown so, is all."

Ron felt a strange lump form in his throat. He leaned over and hugged his mother tightly. "I'll be fine, Mum. Promise." He released her and straightened her apron strap, smiling. "Besides, you're not rid of me yet. You still have to cook me and Ginny our farewell dinner."

She laughed and swatted him gently. "Of course, dear. Chocolate pudding for dessert?"

"Oh, yes!" Ginny poked her head into Ron's room, grinning broadly. "Extra whipped cream, too, please?"

"Shameless eavesdropper!" Ron tossed one of the socks from his laundry basket at the interloper, who squealed and dodged it.

"You nasty creature! I was just coming to ask Mum where my green dress robes had run off to." She stuck her tongue out at Ron, who returned the gesture enthusiastically.

"It was clean, at any rate." Ron rolled his eyes and patted his mother on the shoulder. "Now, how am I supposed to pack with all these womenfolk in my room?"

"Ickle Ronniekins can't have us seeing his ickle drawers, now, can he?"

Ginny ducked the second sock and let her mother shoo her down the stairs, both giggling. Ron sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at his trunk, trying to ignore the ball of anxiety forming in his stomach. He hadn't really thought about it before.

He looked out the window at the garden. Fred and George were doing something to a rosebush and conspiring. His mother was approaching them with a determined stride. A smile crept to his lips, then faded.

He shoved the thought aside and opened the trunk.

***************

"Hermione, love? Have you finishedÂ…" Lydia Granger paused in the doorway and shook her head with a smile. Hermione's trunk sat at the foot of her bed, with Crookshanks's basket sitting on top, ready to go.

Hermione looked up from her book and smiled back. "Yes, Mother."

Mrs. Granger's smile wavered a moment. "Sometimes I wonder if you don't like it there better."

Hermione dropped the book and strode over to her mother, embracing her tightly. "Oh, Mother. No! You knowÂ…"

Mrs. Granger shushed her and hugged her back. "Of course I do, dear. It'sÂ… it must be dreadfully dull for you. I know how you love your studies and yourÂ…magic things." She patted Hermione on the head gently, releasing her and looking at her, dabbing at her eyes. "I understand. I was always anxious to get back to my friends and my studies, too. It's justÂ… my baby's so grown. You're such a lady now."

"Oh, Mum." Hermione blushed and sighed.

Mrs. Granger just shook her head, smiling. She turned to leave, then stepped back, a look of concern in her eyes.

"Now, Hermione, dear, we've hadÂ…the talkÂ…right?" She chewed her lower lip anxiously.

Hermione turned beet red. "Mother!" She stammered a moment. "Yes, we have. And it's unnecessary. Really."

Mrs. Granger raised her hands defensively. "I know, I know. Your father and I trust your judgement. I justÂ… you've just grown so. It's only a matter of timeÂ…"

"Mum!" She looked around the room frantically for a moment, eyes settling on her book. "I have to finish this chapter for school."

Mrs. Granger nodded. "Very well, dear."

*************

"Ready to go?" Elvira poked her head into the Divination classroom.

Maggie sat there, feet propped up on a table, tossing tarot cards at a pointed hat she'd wedged between two poufs. She looked up with a smile.

"You bet!" She kicked her feet off the table and stood up a bit unsteadily. It had been months since she'd worn heels. Quickly, she brushed a bit of lint off the black velvet leggings and straightened the bodice on her form-fitting red top. The lacings on the front were a little lopsided, and she tugged the loops. A choker of red glass beads shone like drops of blood in the light from the fireplace.

Elvira whistled softly, taking it all in. The taller, older woman wore a pair of tailored black pants, a deep-purple silk blouse, and a black tuxedo vest. Her laced riding boots shone brightly. "Come on, then. Delly's waiting downstairs with Filius and Hagrid."

The group waiting for them was chatting cheerfully. Hagrid towered over them all, wearing an absolutely terrible mustard-colored suit. Filius was a little more understated in a purple suit complete with a red bow-tie with purple polka dots. Delphine was wearing a bright green dress and a freshly-dusted hat. Maggie tugged her cloak over her shoulders and skipped down the last two flights of stairs, and the troupe surged out the front doors amidst farewells from the portraits.

The Three Broomsticks was packed and raucous. Madam Rosmerta greeted them all enthusiastically, ushering them towards a table near the stage with a "Reserved: Hogwarts Faculty" sign on it. "So, that's a pint of Chirrot's Hardest Cider, a gin and gillywater, a soda water with cherry syrup, two pints of mulled mead, andÂ…I don't know your drink, dear." Rosmerta smiled at Maggie.

Maggie pondered a moment. "Any house specialities?"

Rosmerta smiled. "Butterbeer, but that's a bit weak. The mulled cider is stronger."

Maggie grinned. "A shot of tequila and a mulled cider, then."

Rosmerta and the rest of the party looked at her, eyes wide. Hagrid thumped her on the back hard enough to almost topple her from the stool. "Now, that's what I like ter hear! Bring me one of 'em, too."

"Oh, one for me too! Why not?" Elvira laughed. "Maggie, I'd have never thought it."

Maggie pulled herself back onto her stool, shrugging. "I go out a lot back home. Besides, it usually takes at least three shots of tequila to get me to sing in public." She grinned mischeviously as she studied the stage.

It was the oddest karaoke setup she'd ever seen. There was no DJ to be seen. Instead, there was a very gaudy sequined wizard's hat sitting on a stool amidst a pile of assorted musical instruments. Delphine followed her quizzical gaze and leaned in closer.

"It's simple, really. You put the hat on and think about the song you want to sing. The instruments play themselves, and you sing it. It's jolly fun. You must promise you'll try it!"

The drinks arrived just in time. "New professor has to do the first toast," Elvira said solemnly. The others cheered, picking up their drinks and looking to Maggie expectantly.

Maggie lofted her shot and smiled at the assembled group. "To new friends, and to one hell of a school year!"

Glasses clinked. "Hear, hear!"

***************

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasely caught him in a hug before he could blink. When she straightened back up, there were tears in her eyes. "It's so good to see you. I do wish you could have come out and seen us this summer."

"Me too." He smiled at her fondly, then punched Ron in the arm. "Ready for another year?"

Ron grinned. "Ready enough. I just hope they let us take the O.W.L.S. with the fifth years instead of popping them in at the start of term."

Mrs. Weasely fixed him with a glare. "You'd better have been keeping in review, young manÂ… If I find out that you've done poorly after having all that extra time to study, there will be trouble!"

"Indeed. Some people have no diligence." Hermione grinned at Ron as she wheeled her trunk up behind him. He shot her a nasty look that she happily ignored. "Hello, all. Ready to go?"

After a solid round of hugs, with Mrs. Weasely hugging everyone twice, Mr. Weasely helped everyone get their bags onto the train.

"You'll be careful this year? And write to us often?" Mrs. Weasely kissed Ginny and Ron each as they stepped onto the train.

"Yes, Mother," they chorused with long-suffering looks to their friends. Mrs. Weasely sniffed and waved as they disappeared into the train.

"Is your mum ok, Ron?" Harry looked out the window to the platform as the three settled into their usual train car. Ginny had sprinted off to talk to Colin and Neville at the other end of the train. "She seemed awfullyÂ… concerned."

Ron sighed, setting Pigwidgeon's cage down and releasing the pint-sized fluffball to zip around the car. "She's been acting funny all summer. I can't say I blame her. Considering every year I've come to Hogwarts, something has happenedÂ…and with He Who Shall Not Be Named running aroundÂ…" His voice tapered off, and he looked for a moment a great deal like his mother. Hermione patted his arm. Pigwidgeon's flapping and hooting was the only sound for a long moment.

"Sorry. I just worry about them when I'm not around, especially now." Ron looked out the window at his parents, a finger tracing the glass. Harry and Hermione nodded wordlessly.

"So, trying out for the Quiddich team, are you?" Harry asked finally.

Ron looked at him with a grateful smile. "Oh, just you wait. I'll be amazing this year."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out a book with a sigh. "Boys."

***************

"Mmph." It was the closest to a greeting as Maggie could manage as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She spooned in half the sugar bowl before she stopped. Minerva clucked her tongue at her, but smiled anyway.

Elvira managed a grin at her. "Quite the night. I still can't believe you sang so much."

Maggie blinked at her over her coffee. "Huh?" The events of the night before were still slowly filtering back over the haze.

"What was that one? The one Hagrid liked so much?" Delphine chuckled, sipping her tea a bit tentatively. She looked almost as green as her hat.

Hagrid looked down the table at them. "Oh yeah." He took a swig of coffee and cleared his throat. His voice knocked Flitwick off his cushions with a groan. "I've got a unicorn horn in the middle of me forehead and the antlers of a stag on either sideÂ…"

Maggie dropped the piece of toast she was buttering. "Oh MAN!" She hid her face in her hands as her fellow partygoers chuckled. Minerva and Dumbledore exchanged bemused looks, and Snape watched her with a predator's gaze and a wry half-smile. "I did notÂ… oh, god, tell me I didn't."

"Oh, you did. The pub loved it. Rosmerta wanted to talk to you about singing there some night when school's not in session, incidentally. She loved you." Maggie slid under the table a little, red as the raspberry jam on her toast. Elvira chuckled. "Oh, come on. At least you didn'tÂ…Ow!"

"Hush, Vi." Delphine had turned a vivid shade of purple.

Elvira grinned evilly. "But I've never heard 'Mandy' in quite that key before! OW!" She rubbed her shin and cackled.

"Honestly, you're worse than the children." Minerva favored the pair with a very teacherly look. "And they'll be here tonight, mind."

Maggie pushed her plate away as her stomach flip-flopped. "Ugh." She sipped at her coffee, trying hard to calm the butterflies who had decided to replace the hangover.

Minerva patted her arm. "Poppy has a wonderful remedy forÂ…"

"Â…Nerves. Just nerves." She faked a smile. "It's justÂ… IÂ…yii. I've never done this before. How am I supposed to act all teacher-ish?" Maggie reached over and plucked the bacon from her plate before drawing it back in front of her, nibbling dejectedly.

"I'd recommend not singing songs about illicit relations with unicorns and manticores, for one." Elvira winced as her ribs took a nudge from Delphine. Maggie made a face at her, then hid behind her napkin from the surprised looks from Dumbledore and Minerva.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'll have to hear this song sometime."

Maggie dropped her napkin, eyes wide. He winked over his half-moon glasses, then returned to buttering a muffin.

"It sounds like the students will be getting quite the education from you, Madam Carter." Snape pushed his chair in and strode out of the hall.

"Just remember, dearÂ… you're very talented, and very bright. You'll do fine." Minerva patted her on the shoulder and exited as well.

Dumbledore watched her leave, then smiled hopefully at Maggie. "So, about that song?"

Maggie's eyes widened again. She took a swallow of pumpkin juice, rose, and cleared her throat. Her voice was dusky, and she grinned like a bandit as the first words flowed out.

"I've got a unicorn's hornÂ…"

************

"Do I look all right? Like, teacher-looking and stuff?" Maggie twirled in front of her mirror, pacing anxiously.

"Your bun is coming loose," the mirror offered helpfully. Maggie yelped and dove for her hairbrush.

Minerva sighed. "Calm down, Maggie. You look fine. Just relax and be yourself. You won't have to speak or anything. That's for tomorrow to worry about."

"Oh god." Dread filled Maggie's voice as she combed her hair out for the fifth time. "Now I really feel like I'm gonna keel over."

"Now, now." Minerva shook her head. "Tonight is the Welcoming Feast. The first-years get sorted into their houses, Professor Dumbledore makes announcements, and we eat dinner. It's a night for introductions and celebration. Not anxiety attacks."

Maggie sat down on the bed, finally setting the hairbrush down and pinning her hair back up. She stuck a pair of gold lacquered chopsticks through the bun and studied herself in the mirror. The black velveteen Hogwarts robe still looked good on her, better now that she knew how to wear it properly. She tucked her wand into her pocket out of habit.

"Wow. I look like a real witch." She smiled absently. "Thanks, Minerva. For everything. I owe youÂ…all of youÂ…so much."

Minerva rose and stood behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It has been our pleasure, Maggie. Now, come. The train should be arriving soon."

**************

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!"

Hagrid towered over the goggle-eyed children, same as always. Ron, Harry, and Hermione waved to him, and he winked back at them as he ushered the first-years towards the boats.

"Did you see Malfoy on the train?" Harry looked around the throng of students climbing into carriages.

Ron paused on the carriage steps. "Now that you mention it, no. Odd, that. Normally, he makes a point of stinking up our car with his presence."

"There he is. That carriage there." Hermione pointed across the field. A wisp of silvery blonde hair was visible from the back of the carriage. Goyle was bending the frame of the vehicle with his weight as he clambered in. Faintly, they heard Malfoy's snide voice. "Come on, you great bulky git. Get in."

"Damn. Just when I thought the year was getting good already," Ron sighed as he settled into his seat. With a lurch, the carriages started up towards the castle.

***************

"I've never seen anything like this." Maggie spun around in a circle, taking the Great Hall in with childlike glee. Her voice echoed off the walls as she looked up at the clear night sky, the moon full and silvery. Candles hovered everywhere, reflecting off the rows of gold plates and goblets, making it look like the stars had stopped by for dinner.

A voice stopped her in mid-spin. "Indeed." Severus emerged from a shadowy corner, arms folded. His eyes caught the light from the nearest candle, glowing softly as he studied her.

She straightened up, a little embarrassed. "Hi, Severus. JustÂ…trying to imagine what it must be like. For the children." The rapture came back to her voice as she spread her arms, encompassing the room with the gesture. "I meanÂ… this is amazing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like to be eleven years old and coming here for the first time. Everything is soÂ…big. And magical. And beautiful, and strange."

"Yes." His voice was dry. "It is indeed all that."

Maggie looked away, arms and shoulders dropping. His eyes followed her as she stepped towards the table. "Minerva said she'd be right up," she sighed. "Anything I can do to help set up, or is everything done?" Her voice brightened a little.

He shook his head and strode to the other end of the table, taking his seat. "Now, we wait." He looked into a candleflame. Maggie watched him for a moment, then settled back in her seat to look at the stars and wait.

*************

The Great Hall was as spectacular as ever. The students poured through the doors, chattering merrily and reacquainting themselves with friends they hadn't seen on the train. Seamus and Parvati led the Gryffindors to their table, prefect badges gleaming. Ron, Harry, and Hermione clustered together, still chatting.

"I still can't believe they passed you over for prefect, Hermione," Harry said glumly.

Ron nodded. "No kidding. Especially after last year. I mean, you taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for the last two weeks! And survived without turning into something evil or a monster or anything." He eyed her with a grin. "At least, I thinkÂ… canÂ’t be too sure." He prodded her with a finger, as though expecting her to sprout horns.

Hermione laughed, swatted him, then shrugged. "Actually, they didn't pass me over."

Ron and Harry stared at her.

"I turned it down."

Their jaws hung slack. Had she told them she was carrying Snape's love child, they would have been less astonished.

"What?" She huffed at them. "I mean really!" She caught each by a sleeve and drew them in closer to her. "Had I been made a prefect, I would have had to turn you two in every time you went haring about saving the world from certain doom at the hands ofÂ… whatever faces us this year. And I'd much rather help, thank you very much. The Order of the Phoenix is more important than a ruddy old prefect's badge."

Ron gave a low whistle. He hadn't looked this impressed with her since she slapped Malfoy. She blushed a little under their gaze.

Harry looked over at the faculty table. "Speaking of Defense Against the Dark Arts, it looks like you've been replaced. Do you think she's the one?" He nodded at a brown-haired woman talking to Professor McGonagall. She was young, not quite thirty, and rather pretty--pleasantly curvy, much like Madam Rosmerta from The Three Broomsticks, but looked less seductive and much more nervous. She tucked loose strands from her tight bun behind her ear, toyed with the gold chopsticks in her hair, and seemed to be a constant flurry of fidgeting. McGonagall was patting her hand and trying to reassure her, looking all the world like a grandmother consoling a new mother.

Ron looked up and promptly turned deathly white. Hermione followed his gaze and squeaked in surprise.

Harry started to ask what was going on, but Dumbledore stood up.

"Welcome, students. It is time for the Sorting."