Divined Intervention

Maggie sniffled despite herself. She remembered the fear and excitement she'd felt when the Sorting Hat was on her head, and she watched as at least two score eleven-year-olds got to experience it for themselves. The wonder on their faces as they looked aroundÂ…the elation as they were welcomed with fifty pairs of open arms by their new housematesÂ… She couldn't help a twinge of jealousy as she wiped away a sentimental tear. My junior high was nothing like this. I started, and I was getting slammed into lockers by the upperclassmen on my first day. She smiled to herself. If only my parents had knownÂ… how different would my life have been?

She sipped at her pumpkin juice, banishing the thoughts and focusing on the matters at hand. Namely, the couple hundred faces looking up at her from the four house tables. It didn't settle her stomach a bit. It felt like all eyes were focused on her with a mix of fear and curiosity. She remembered the comments at her first meal with the faculty, the jokes about new faculty and their tendency towards either great evil or mysterious disappearances. Oh, hell. They probably think I'm one of those Death Eating people. She stopped short of chugging the pumpkin juice and started to twist her napkin again. Silently, she willed Minerva to get back up to the table a little faster.

Elvira's hand rested on her left arm, and she jumped a few inches out of her seat. "All right, Maggie? You're going to shred your napkin." Her voice was bemused, but calming, and Maggie released the napkin with a self-conscious giggle.

"Thanks, Vi," she sighed.

"Zonko, Melvin" joined his new colleagues at Gryffindor, and Professor Flitwick carried off the Sorting Hat and stool. Minerva rejoined Maggie at the table, looking a little misty. Maggie patted her on the arm, grinning.

Dumbledore rose and surveyed the students with a fond gaze over his spectacles.

"Welcome, one and all. Before we begin our feast, I have a few brief announcements. First, in addition to our new students, we have new faculty to introduce." He smiled at Maggie and gestured to her to rise. She did, smiling with a deer-frozen-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. A few students tittered. "Madam Margaret Carter has been kind enough to come all the way from America to serve as our Divinations professor, as Professor Trellawny has gone on sabbatical. I expect you to accord her the same level of respect as you do any other faculty member."

Confused murmurs broke out for a moment. Maggie caught the words "Dark Arts" and "Who else?" amongst the chatter, and she winced at the potential rumors that were probably starting. She bowed and sat back down quickly.

Dumbledore continued smoothly. "As for the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark ArtsÂ…" His face wavered for a moment, recovering quickly. "As Professor Figg has been called away, and continues to be needed elsewhere, I have decided to resume my old position as a professor in addition to my Headmaster duties." He smiled broadly. "I do hope you donÂ’t mind. I might, perhaps, be a bit rusty."

Cheers and excited chatter broke out throughout the hall.

"I will assume that that is a 'No, we don't mind.'" His eyes twinkled bright as the stars overhead.

Maggie glanced down the table at the rest of the professors. With the exception of Minerva, everyone seemed as surprised as the students. Severus looked somewhat disgruntled, Tabitha looked aghast, and the rest were murmuring to each other with wide eyes. Minerva looked up at him, beaming.

Elvira elbowed Maggie gently. "Bloody brilliant! He was my favorite professor at school! I hope they know how lucky they are."

Maggie nodded. "At least now I know who to ask about my homework," she grinned.

Dumbledore clapped his hands. "More announcements after dinner!" The platters on the table filled with countless dishes, and the feast began with more cheers.

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

Harry looked over the faculty table. Everyone was abuzz, and Snape looked even more sour than usual. Professor Vector was chatting at him, but he didn't seem to be hearing a word. His eyes strayed over to the new professor, who was smiling at Madam Hooch and accepting a plate from her. So, is she the one this year?

"Can you believe it? We're actually going to have Dumbledore as a professor this year?" Neville's eyes were as big as his plate. He'd barely touched his dinner in his excitement.

Colin Creevy was tucking his camera back into his pocket, dipping his elbow into his mashed potatoes in the process. "He signed my Famous Witches and Wizards card last year. He's the best!"

Dennis Creevy seemed less enchanted with the prospect. "Just think, thoughÂ… if you act up in class, you're REALLY in for it." A collective groan of horror washed over the group.

Hermione leaned in towards Harry. "I guess he didn't want to take any chances with a new instructor," she offered as she passed the rolls to him.

Harry cocked his head at her. "Then what about her?" He indicated Madam Carter with a nod of his head. She seemed to be trying to figure out what something on her plate was. It looked like a slice of steak and kidney pie to him. "She seemsÂ…odd."

Ron made a strangled noise. Hermione kicked him under the table, then turned back to Harry. "She seems rather nice to me."

"Oh, come on, Hermione! Name one non-lethal new professorÂ…"

"Remus Lupin." Hermione cut him off with a look. Harry's shoulders slumped. Even he couldn't deny that Lupin was a wonderful person, werewolf or no. He was one of his father's oldest friends, and one of his few connections to his parents at all.

"And Professor Figg wasn't that bad. Even if you didn't like her." Hermione looked into her goblet dejectedly. "I just wish I knew what became of her."

Ron and Harry both moved to comfort her.

"'Twasn't your fault, Hermione." Ron patted her back awkwardly as Harry placed a hand over hers. "She was a grown witchÂ…she took her own chances." Ron had stopped watching Madam Carter and fixed his gaze on his friend. "I'm just glad they didn't take you too."

Hermione met his gaze, blue and deep as the ocean, and almost as calming. She sniffed once and looked away, forcing a smile. "Thanks. Both of you. IÂ…I know. IÂ…"

It was Harry's turn to be stern with her. "I'm sure she's fine, wherever she is. She was always a crafty one. She took care of me for fourteen years, didn't she?" He smiled, and she smiled back for real at last.

Ron looked at his plate, swallowing hard. Neville offered him a plate of chicken legs, but he waved them away wordlessly. Suddenly, his appetite was gone. Why can't I make her smile like that? A stab of jealousy was working its way through his stomach. To distract himself, he looked up at the faculty table at the new professor.

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

"Maggie, it's dead already. You don't have to stab it anymore." Elvira nudged her gently.

Maggie blushed beet-red and finally took a bite. It wasn't as bad as she had feared. I will never, ever get the British fixation for internal organs as dinner. Still, kidney wasn't half bad, as long as she pretended it was just a different texture of steak. "So, any bets on the students thinking I'm some sort of demon?" She swigged her pumpkin juice and smiled at her friend.

Minerva chuckled. "They've been saying that about me for years, dear."

"And you should hear what they say about Severus," Elvira added under her breath. "We all get our share of nicknames and such. Don't let it get to you, especially on your first day."

Maggie went ashen for a moment. She'd been trying very hard not to think about it. "They get their schedules at breakfast, right?" she asked wanly.

Minerva nodded. "Staff meeting's at 6 sharp. We'll have it all arranged then, so you'll know who to expect first."

Maggie pushed the last of her pie around on her plate.

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

Dessert came around, and the students dug in with gusto. Even Ron found his appetite once the eclairs made their way towards him. Sir Nicholas sat beside him, watching with envy as he licked the custard off the end after it gushed out from his first enthusiastic bite.

"So, have you lot heard about the new Hogwarts ghost?" he asked conversationally. Ron looked at him with wide eyes, and Hermione almost dropped her fork.

"Umm, no." Harry leaned in closer.

Sir Nicholas sat up straighter, looking important all of a sudden. "She's something, to be sure."

Hermione looked like she was going to be ill. Ron rested a hand on hers, looking confused.

Sir Nicholas continued. "A rare beauty. Moves like a cloud on the wind, and sings with the voice of an angel. I've never seen anything like her. I thought she was a banshee at firstÂ…"

Seamus Finnegan nearly dropped his goblet in his lap. "A banshee? Here?" His freckles stood out dark against his death-pale face.

Sir Nicholas waved his hands impatiently, passing one through Neville's shoulder. "No, no, no. She's not. But she isÂ… something." He rested his head in his hands, knocking it a little askew. Neville squeaked and slid his chair into Colin's.

Lavender and Parvati giggled at each other. "I think Sir Nicholas fancies herÂ…" Lavender teased.

The ghost sat bolt upright, the moonstruck look swiftly replaced with haughty indignation. "I do not!" he huffed, then floated off.

"He does." Parvati nodded sagely.

Hermione looked a little more relaxed. "ThenÂ…it's probably notÂ…"

Realization dawned on Ron. "Oh! Oh, Hermione." He patted her back again. "No, it's probably not her. I don't think, even if I were dead for a few hundred years, I'd call Professor Figg an ethereal beauty who moves like a cloud on the wind."

Hermione chuckled softly. "I don't think you'd call anyone that, Ron." She giggled into her pumpkin juice, missing the dejected look on his face entirely.

"And now, for a few final announcements." Dumbledore rose again, and silence fell over the hall. "Sixth-year students, as you were unable to take the Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration O.W.L.S. due to circumstances beyond our control last year, you will be making them up with the fifth-years at the end of this year." His eyes twinkled a little. "I do hope you have stayed in review."

"Couldn't have waived them, could they've?" Ron muttered softly. Hermione shushed him. They'd heard the rest of the announcements about Quiddich trials, broomstick regulations, and the like for five years running now, but she had to be sure nothing new had been added.

"Â…and finally, please join me in singing the school song."

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

"We have a school song?" Maggie asked, eyes a little wide. Minerva sighed heavily and nodded, running a hand over her forehead.

Elvira cleared her throat, looking a bit less than her usual enthusiastic self.

A golden streamer sprang from the end of Dumbledore's wand, bearing the lyrics. Maggie was relieved, in a way, when the entire student body and faculty began singing along in extremely different keys and tunes. She giggled and began to manage her best rendition of the school song to the tune of an Irish drinking song. Elvira cackled and joined her in a two part harmony, goading Delphine to provide a soprano part for their dual alto (off-key and not-so-off-key).

The students began to file out of the room, led by their prefects. Maggie watched them go, wishing in a way that she could join them. They only had to worry about learning the next day.

"Well done, everyone. Now, let's get some rest before our big day tomorrow." Dumbledore beamed over everyone, patting Minerva and Filius on the back as he rose and exited the hall.

Maggie got halfway out of the hall before a firm hand gripped her shoulder. She turned to face the fiery eyes of Estelle Sinestra.

"I don't know how you did it, you little bitch, but Tabitha and I won't stand for your sabotage." The taller, thinner woman glared down at her with malice radiating.

Maggie gaped at her. "WhÂ…What the hell are you talking about?" She batted Estelle's hand from her shoulder, annoyed and confused.

"You changed our charts. We stayed up all night last night watching for a celestial configuration that isn't due for two weeks."

Maggie snorted. "And you think I rigged that?" Incredulity dripped from her voice. "How in blazes do you think I did that? I don't even know how to read one of those damned charts yet!" Her eyes turned hard. "Note that I haven't exactly been asking you for pointers on anything."

"Not that I'd help you anyway, you hopeless little MudbloodedÂ…" Estelle's voice cut off abruptly. Maggie turned to see Minerva standing behind her, hands on her hips and fury in her eyes.

"What is the meaning of this display, ladies?"

Maggie looked back at her, helplessly. "Beats me. She seems to think I'm a better witch than I am."

Minerva looked at Estelle coldly. The taller woman shrank a few inches and muttered something, then turned and left.

"Are you all right, Maggie?"

Maggie nodded, lower lip trembling a little. She was used to bullies from school. She was used to strange prejudices from years of working as a fortune-teller. But this level of unwarranted anger, after all the chaos and confusion, and on top of her nerves for the day to comeÂ… it was too much.

"I'd better get to bed," she finally managed, then turned and fled from the hall.

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

She sniffled, and the quill stuttered on the page, pausing and waiting for her next words.

She made an irate noise, then took a breath. The quill hopped on the page impatiently, sending little splashes of ink over the crossed-out portions.

She blotted the teardrops from the parchment before it could run and looked out the window of the tower. For an odd moment, she felt kind of like Rapunzel. "Cut off from the rest of the world, no princes to rescue me." She snorted softly and looked around the room.

In entirely too few hours, the room would be full of students looking to her for knowledge. She cast a critical eye around. The tarot decks were lined up neatly, shuffled at least fifty times each by her own nervous hands. The teacups hung on a set of pegs, with the teapots arranged neatly on a shelf below them. The crystal ballsÂ…

She shuddered. The crystal balls sat where they had always been, arranged on cushions beneath one of the windows, encrusted in an unsightly layer of dust that she hadn't wanted to remove. The dust was a shield to her. If she didn't see the surface, she wouldn't accidentally see anything.

"Fuck it." She strode over, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and grabbing a silk scarf from one of the lamps. The balls jostled slightly as she crashed to her knees beside the shelf, picking up one of the crystal spheres with a shaking hand. It was cold and heavy in her palm, and she looked at it much as one would look at a well-rotted rat. She ran the silk scarf over the surface swiftly, bringing it back to a shine.

"See, Mags. Nothing to be afraidÂ…" She looked at the ball, admiring her handiwork and catching the firelight in the surface of the crystal.

The ball went dark.

Maggie's hands began to shake.

"Severus," she gasped, dropping the ball. It rolled away. She glanced around frantically, galvanized to her feet in a motion. StairsÂ…too slow. DumbwaiterÂ…too slow. Her eyes flashed around the room in panic, finally lighting on a throw rug beneath the other window. In two steps and a leap, she'd made her way to it, clawing the rug aside and tearing at the ring to the trap door.

The spiderwebs blew softly in the cool night breeze from the window. She gagged a little. Who knows what else is in thereÂ…

She closed her eyes and jumped in feet-first. Before she could reconsider, she was sliding into blackness.

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

"Nearly finished," Severus muttered softly to himself.

She didn't even notice you were there last night. Why did you bother going? It was an unwelcome thought, as unwelcome as having stopped into the Three Broomsticks at all. Drunk out of her mind, singing thatÂ… He felt an unwelcome warmth beneath his collar. Â…dreadful song. It was dreadful, wasn't it? Low, base, not at all becomingÂ… Her sultry alto came to him unbidden, and he hurled the handful of chopped slugs into the cauldron with enough force to bounce a bit back out. He flicked it off the table with a finger. She was too busy having fun to see you there. Just like a Gryffindor. Forget her.

He stirred the potion, trying to find something else to think about. Lesson plans. The newest batch of first-year Gryffindors he'd have to endure. The newest batch of Slytherins he'd get to shape into canny enough wizards and witches to survive in the world. Why Draco Malfoy was behaving so damned oddly this year.

The spoon stopped moving for a moment. The boy was even being polite to other professors and students at the feast. He'd always taken Malfoy's deference to him as a token of respect, both for the head of his house and for an old colleague of his father. This year, he seemedÂ…subdued somehow.

I wonder if he's taking DivinationsÂ… he mulled as he resumed stirring, then cursed loudly. His finger had grazed the heated metal of the cauldron in his reverie. Stop thinking about her, damn it!

A shadow fell over his potion book.

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

"It's good to be back, isn't it, Harry?" Ron gazed up at the ceiling, lying on his bed in the dark. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were already fast asleep and snoring.

Harry sighed happily. "Yeah. It's lonely at the Dursleys'. And these boys have nothing on Uncle Vernon and Dudley when it comes to snoring."

Ron chuckled, then looked out the window. He paused for a long moment. "D'you ever worryÂ…about peopleÂ…when you aren't around them?" he asked tentatively.

Harry sat up and fixed his friend with a bemused look. "Huh?"

Ron rolled over on his side. "Nothing. I mean, goodnight."

"RonÂ… are you all right? You've been acting strangely ever since the train." Harry swung his legs over the edge of his bed, facing Ron's back.

Ron shrugged, then rolled onto his back, looking at Harry, then at the ceiling once more. Harry's face was a knot of worry, and it just made him feel worse. His voice was distant. "I can't help it. I'm trying not to think about it, but it keeps running through my mind. I'm here at Hogwarts, andÂ… I get one of those letters. Like Lavender Brown and Hannah Abbot did." His voice was hoarse. "I keep seeing The Burrow withÂ… with one of those Dark Marks over it. Because I wasn't there to help stop it."

Harry couldn't speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, unable to look at his friend for a moment.

"I'm just so damned scared, Harry."

Harry swallowed hard. "RonÂ…" he began, then cleared the lump from his throat again. "I knowÂ…well, sorta." He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it more. "I worry about them, too. They're the closest to family I've got, besides Sirius, and I worry about him every day. ButÂ…" He fought for the words. "The people I love the most are here with me. I have the advantage of having chosen my family. I can'tÂ…fathom what it feels like for you."

Ron nodded silently and continued to stare at the ceiling. Harry looked at the moon outside, wondering where Sirius was right then. Suddenly, he didn't think he'd be sleeping either.

Finally, he broke the silence again.

"So, you fancy the new Divination professor already?"

Ron's pillow knocked him over backwards.

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

She could feel them coating her whole body. Spiderwebs in her hair. Spiderwebs on her robe. It was like a nightmare she'd had one night after her hair got loose from its ponytail and tickled her face while she slept, only she was wide awake. She wanted to scream, but then they'd be in her mouth, too. Her feet kicked larger things loose, and she felt them sliding below her. Her back bounced over lumps of things she knew she didn't want to know.

The slide spiraled in wide loops, and she was starting to get nauseous from both the motion and the countless bits of filth coating her body. What the hell was I thinking? What if this was a false alarm? What if it's not till next week? Or next year? You are such a fuckwit. Her eyes were still locked closed, and her jaw was clenched tight enough to ache.

Her feet hit something brittle and heavy, and she heard something crash to the ground a split second before the world dropped out from beneath her. She landed on the base of her spine with a very painful crash, and something crunched beneath her.

Her eyes stayed closed for a long time.

Mags, move. What if it's happening right now? The thought made her sit up quickly. Too quickly. Pain shot up her back as she staggered to her feet. Quickly, she ran her hands over her face to clear off the thick coating of cobwebs, and she opened her eyes.

Immediately, she regretted it, as she saw what had crunched beneath her.

Or, rather, who.

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

She doesn't look that much like her. The thought only annoyed him more, and he pounded the last of the bloodroot a little too fine.

A scream nearly made him knock over his cauldron. Severus whirled around quickly to look to the door.

A knife clattered to the ground, as though it had been suspended in air.

He backed into the cauldron, eyes wide. "Who's there?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. Something scuttled in the shadows, and he seized the knife, whirling defensively.

A loud crash brought his attention back to the hall. He stuffed the knife in his pocket and drew his wand instead.

With a determined final glance around the room, he ran out into the hallway.

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

The eyesockets of what appeared to have once been an elderly woman stared at her blankly. She was partially wrapped in the remains of a Hogwarts robe and a torn black cloak. Half of a wand was still clutched in her dessicated, clawlike fist. One of her feet was crumbled nearly to dust where she had sat on it.

A loud splintering thump behind her snapped her out of the horrified shock. Maggie shrieked and backpedaled quickly. Her heel caught on the edge of her robe, and something round slid beneath her foot. Both feet flew from beneath her.

The base of her skull met the end of the stone slide with a sharp crack. She hit the ground hard, but she never felt it.