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The Hestia Jones Stories
The Professor and His Query
by Hestia Hesperus
This is Part One in a rather long flashback consisting of DV canon during the Marauders' stay at Hogwarts School. Hope you all enjoy. Any questions, feel free to leave in the review box.
June 10, 1975
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hestia, you're making me nervous.”
“Meaning you weren't nervous already?”
Lily sighed. “All right, you're making me more nervous.”
“Thought so.”
The tapping stopped.
Lily Cecelia Evans and Hestia Jones Hesperus were not in the most pleasant of spirits. They had been sitting on the stone bench across from the large carved gargoyle on the seventh floor for the past ten minutes, and the wait was taking a toll on their nerves.
Lily brushed her red hair out of her eyes and sneaked a glance again at the gargoyle. It grimaced menacingly and its cold lip turned into a sneer. She looked away hastily.
“So…what do you think Professor Dumbledore wants us for?” she asked, drumming absentmindedly.
“Would it help if I were to take Veritaserum so that you could really believe me when I've said ‘I don't know’ the last ten times you've asked?” Hestia said.
Lily looked sheepish. “Perhaps.”
She drummed her fingers some more.
“You don't think it has to do with Potter, do you?” she said abruptly. “Do you think the Headmaster was watching our little charade on the grounds? He doesn't think it was my fault it happened in the first place? Maybe if I had been paying attention more to the fact that they were sitting so close to Snivell—I mean Snape…”
This time, it was Hestia's turn to sigh. “If that were the case—which it isn't—why do you think he asked me to come to his office as well? I wasn't even there…although it would have been fun to watch…. Stupid legs…” she said, glancing down at them.
It was during the last Quidditch match of the season—Gryffindor versus Slytherin, of course—just over a week ago when she hurt them. They had been in the last ten minutes of the game when James Potter, targeted by all three Slytherin Chasers, frantically threw the ball to her. She had flown to the goalposts and lobbed the Quaffle as hard as she could through the empty goalpost on the far right. But she never saw whether she made it or not, because at that moment Josiah Plunkett, one of Slytherin's Beaters, had come zooming up the field, slamming into her at sixty miles an hour.
The force was so brutal that she had been knocked off her broom and into one of the goalposts. The metal hit the inside of her knees, right where the nerves were, and she fell fifty feet, landing on her legs.
Madam Pomfrey had been able to repair most of her injuries, but the damaged nerves couldn't be fixed quite so easily as the blood veins and broken bones, and Hestia had needed to take a special potion every day to help.
As it was they still acted up at times, either by twitching uncontrollably making her unable to walk, or by giving out completely making her unable to do anything until she had another bout of potion. Sitting through the last of her O.W.L. exams had been particularly difficult when they started irritating her half-way through and she had to be excused to go up to her dorm for the potion.
Hence her excuse of missing out on one of the greatest matches of the term between Lily Evans and James Potter.
Ta-dum. Ta-dum. Ta-dum.
Lily's fingers drummed faster.
Hestia gave her a Look.
“Lily.”
“I'm sorry!” Lily wailed, pulling her fingers away from the armrest. “I'm just really nervous. What if Dumbledore doesn't think I made a good enough prefect because I fought with Potter? What if he's going to strip me of my badge and give it to you? That would be horrible!”
Her dark-haired friend made a face. “Well, thanks.”
“I'm sure you wouldn't mind, you get on with him much better than I do. Of course, you Chase with him so it would be hard for you to fight with him when you're together so often, or to chuck the ball at him without trying to unseat him. Maybe I should become a Chaser…”
“Lily—”
Lily rambled on. “Because with you and James, you're actually able to hang out with the other team members and be friends without nagging each other loud enough to wake up the castle. And he doesn't ask you to go on dates with him like he does with me. You two can actually carry on a civilized conversation without hexing each other. But with me and him…if he could just stop trying to get me to go out with him… And now I might lose my badge because of his stupid pranks—”
“Lily!”
“—but I've worked so hard to become a prefect, and I shouldn't have to lose my badge just because of James Potter! If he weren't such a prick and could just stop picking on Snape and flouting his abnormally large head and egotistical Quidditch skills, maybe he wouldn't be so bad…but he is one, and he can't stop and his head just keeps getting bigger and bigger—”
“I do wonder,” said a serene voice to her right, “since Mister Potter's head seems to be exceedingly rotund according to your calculations, just how he manages to lift it up off the ground and play on his broomstick without it falling off. Such an extraordinary feat.”
Lily gasped, her eyes wide. “Professor Dumbledore! And Professor Slughorn! I-I didn't see you there.”
“No worries. I could see that you were previously occupied discussing the skull proportions of a fellow Gryffindor, and didn't want to disrupt your thoughts,” said Professor Dumbledore. Beside him, Slughorn chuckled.
Dumbledore turned to the Potions professor. “Thank you again, Horace, for that wonderful mead and enlightening conversation. We should do it again sometime.”
“Right-o, Albus, right-o. I have a bottle of Ogden's best that's been waiting to be opened for ages,” said Slughorn. To the girls, he whispered loudly, “Don't you be worrying, dearies, those boys will come around and get their heads out of their arses soon enough, mark my words! Oho!”
He gave both of the girls a meaningful wink and ambled off down the hall, chuckling.
“My apologies for making you wait so long,” said Dumbledore to them as they followed him up to his office. “I'm afraid it was rather pressing.”
They stepped off the moving staircase and out between the griffin's wings into the magnificently decorated office. The curious contraptions and odd figments never ceased to amaze Lily. She heard a chirruping sound, and looked around for the brightly colored phoenix, but Fawkes didn't appear to be there.
Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk, pressing his long silver beard to the billowing evergreen robes he was sporting. Surveying the two nervous fifth year girls over his spectacles, he said, “I trust the day finds you well?”
Lily uttered a nervous “Mm-hmm”, not trusting herself to speak any more.
Hestia shot her a look before replying, “Yes, thank you, professor.”
“Are your injuries presenting you any problems, Miss Hesperus? I heard you were asked to be excused during your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam,” he said.
“Yes, but nothing too serious. It's only happening once a day now.”
“Excellent. I have asked Madam Pomfrey to send a letter to your sister Irene so that you will be reminded to continue taking Nefarious Nerve Solution for the first week or two during holidays.”
He looked down at her when she groaned. “Or would you rather continue having your legs give out from under you during random intervals of the day? I'm certain Mr. Potter would be able to find a suitable Chaser replacement for you in the fall. Granted, whomever he found would be lacking your expertise and talent, but I'm sure the Gryffindors could make-do—”
“All right!” Hestia agreed so quickly that Lily was almost certain her curly-haired friend would risk being slammed into the goalposts and falling off her broom again just for another chance to play on the team. “I'll take the potion, Irene won't even have to remind me, and I'll be good as new within two days! You'll see.”
“Indeed we will,” said Dumbledore, his face somber in agreement, though the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.
Lily glanced between them, not wanting to intrude. “Er…Professor?”
“Ah yes, Miss Evans. It has come to my attention that you have not been getting along with your fellow Gryffindor classmate, Mr. James Potter. Is that correct?”
Lily at once turned red, but her voice remained calm. “Yes, Professor.”
“From what I have seen and heard, I can hardly wonder why,” he commented, almost as if to the ceiling.
Lily bit her lip. “Er…yes, Professor.”
He continued. “Be that as it may, I have received a complaint about the two of you and am wondering, in the politest of ways…”
Professor Dumbledore trailed off and was now concentrating hard on the chandelier above them, his voice light and airy, as if simply making an observation in the weather. “That is…if the one or the both of you could kindly try to behave more civilized in the public eye. At least while you are on duty as a prefect. We wouldn't want to give anyone reason to think that delightful badge on her robes shouldn't belong there.”
Quite certain that the occupants of the Owlery over on the West Tower could see her brightly flaming face, Lily said meekly, “Yes, Professor.”
He beamed.
“You are too kind,” he said simply, letting the matter drop.
Lily sank in her seat, feeling far worse now than she had when she was working herself up to come into the room. As much as she hated James Potter, she hated the idea of displeasing the Headmaster far more. Especially when it was her ongoing disagreement with James that was disrupting her from doing her job.
Another thought arose in her. Was Dumbledore finished, or was he going to bring up what happened on the grounds? Was she just going to get a mild warning, and not have her badge taken away? But surely—
“Please, Professor,” Lily blurted out before she could stop herself. “But was there—I mean, did you—that is, sir, was that all you needed?”
She grew pink under Dumbledore's gaze and berated herself silently for being so brazen. Now he was going to think that she hated being in his presence and all she wanted was to go down to dinner and be done with this little rendezvous—
“On the contrary, Miss Evans,” he said. “I have a question for you and Miss Hesperus, as soon as another one of our party arrives. If you could be so kind as to stay another ten minutes, I will try not to take too long in making my point so that neither of you will miss too much of your dinner, if that is where you place your concerns…”
“N-no, it's all right, sir,” said Hestia from Lily's right, sounding as curious as Lily felt.
“Very well, then. We shall simply have to wait until your classmate joins us to continue.”
Almost as if on cue, the door to Professor Dumbledore's office opened and in stepped none other than Severus Snape.
As soon as he saw Lily and Hestia, Snape stopped in his tracks and scowled. The feeling was quite mutual. When it registered to Lily that this was whom they had been waiting for, and that what Dumbledore wanted from them he wanted from Snape as well, her face turned pink.
When she and Severus had become friends when they were nine and he had showed her what magic could do, she thought they would be best friends. But then they had arrived at Hogwarts and been Sorted into two opposing Houses. For the first few years, they still met together as they used to and studied, talked, or played. But as they molded more and more into what the rest of their friends wanted, their visits became fewer and the meetings more secretive, before stopping altogether.
Even now, she still had a soft spot for him. She was always sticking up for him to James and Sirius, and she hated how much they always targeted him for their pranks. And so it had become second nature for her to march right up to James Potter when she saw him hanging Severus upside-down and yell at him.
But then Severus had called her that filthy name…and that had hurt far more than anything Potter had ever done. If their friendship hadn't been disintegrating over the past year or so, it certainly was gone now. Slowly but surely, he had started to treat her just like everyone in his House always did. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, Potter was prone to saying. And for once, Lily—as much as she hated to admit it—had to agree with him.
“Ah, Mr. Snape! You have arrived just in time. Do sit down and we can start,” said Dumbledore. “I trust you already know Miss Evans and Miss Hesperus…”
Severus didn't reply, but reluctantly sat down in the empty chair beside Hestia, not looking at Lily.
“Sir, what—” Hestia began, obviously perplexed at what the Headmaster could possibly want with two Gryffindors and a Slytherin.
Lily had to wonder as well and her mind began racking with what connected the three of them. However, she was disturbed from her thoughts when a loud voice from above them exclaimed—
“Albus! You must—come quick—St. Mungo's—there's been an attack!” wheezed an old woman with white-gray hair and bulbous eyes from the portrait behind Hestia.
Lily read a plaque beneath the picture that read Headmistress Portia Prewett: 1881—1882. She had barely time to muse what could have happened for someone to have only become a headmaster for one year, before it registered what she had said.
“Is it Riddle?” Dumbledore asked, his voice sharp.
“Y—yes,” she replied. “Him and two others—left a message—something about a death lord—no, a dark lord—and a war—”
“Very well,” said Dumbledore grimly, standing up. “You three—stay here. I will be back as soon as possible. What I needed to tell you before has now become very crucial.”
He walked around the desk and snatched his traveling cloak from where it had been hanging in mid-air. He hesitated for a moment before making up his mind.
“Miss Hesperus, in five minutes time I would advise you to call your house-elf and have her bring up some dinner for you three. I do not know how long I will be gone, but it seems that dinner has already started. The house-elves are too busy preparing everyone's meals in the kitchens and sending them to the Great Hall to be able to hear me now,” he said. “After all, we would not want for you three to only think of empty stomachs during our discussion, now would we?”
Lily blinked in confusion as he tossed a pinch of Floo powder into his fireplace and vanished.