beyondwandpoint | “beyond wandpoint” 098a by gingerbred

“11 12k Wednesday - Lunch at the Castle 1” Part 1

Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Staff: Filius Flitwick, Sybill Trelawney, Professor Sarah Sapworthy, Professor Barrymore Beckford, Irma Pince, Hagrid, Septima Vector, Pomona Sprout, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Pansy Parkinson, Torsten Touchstone, Ella Wilkins, Flora Carrow, Tomasina Touchstone, Hunter Hutchinson, Gryffindors: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar, Georgina Smith, Dhanesh Devi, Kiera Kilkenny Devi, Kevin Peterson, Ravenclaws: Robert Knox, Stewart Ackerly, David Chang Others: the Bloody Baron, Sunny, Slinky, House of Slytherin elves, Hogwarts' Kitchen Elves

Mentioned briefly: Staff: Albus Dumbledore, Slytherins: Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Harper Hutchinson, Aaron Avery, Sheldon Shafiq, Hestia Carrow, Valerie 'Val' Vaisey, Róisín Rosier, Wilfred Wilkes Gryffindors: Fred and George Weasley Ravenclaws: Morag MacDougal, Hufflepuffs: Megan Jones, Leanne Moon, Salome Perks Smith, Hannah Abbott, Newton Kurz, Others: Portrait Phineas Nigellus Black, Flighty

Originally Published: 2018-11-11 on AO3
Chapter: 098 part 1

The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal’s maximum post length. It’s been split in two parts.

Characters:

Severus (HoS, Potions), Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot)

Staff:
Professor Filius Flitwick (HoR, Charms), Professor Sybill Trelawney (Divination; Scarves, Tealeaves, Patchouli, oh my!), Professor Sarah Sapworthy (Xylomancy, Twigs!), Professor Barrymore Beckford (Ghoul Studies, positively ancient), Irma Pince (Librarian), Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures, Keeper of not-so-wee Beasties), Professor Septima Vector (Arithmancy, but that hardly counts, or was that the students?), Professor Pomona Sprout (HoH, Herbology)

Slytherins:
Draco 7S (Prefect, Team Captain, Seeker, Swot), Theo Nott 7S (Swottiest, Nervous Wreck), Blaise Zabini 7S (Keeper (but only in the Quidditch sense...)), Daphne Greengrass 7S (Sparkly! Fwoopers!), Tracey Davis 7S (Swottier), Pansy Parkinson 7S (Prefect), Torsten Touchstone 6S (sleepyhead, heir to the Touchstone fortune), Ella Wilkins 6S (Prefect), Flora Carrow 6S (friendly twin), Tomasina Touchstone 5S (Prefect, Potions savvy heiress), Hunter Hutchinson 4S (Imp, Take-Out Delivery Boy)

Gryffindors:
Harry 7G (Team Captain, Seeker, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-Severus), Ron Weasley 7G (Prefect, Keeper (but also only in the Quidditch sense), the Boy-Who-Exists-to-Annoy-Hermione), Lavender 'Lav' Brown 7G (blonde!), Parvati Patil 7G, Fay Dunbar 7G (Reserve Chaser), Georgina Smith 7G ('Fay's ginger friend'), Dhanesh Devi 6G (bonded to Kiera 6G, sadly tailless), Kiera Kilkenny Devi 6G (bonded to Dhanesh 6G), Kevin 'Kev' Peterson 5G (in a class of his own)

Ravenclaws:
Robert Knox 4R (eagle with principles), Stewart Ackerly 4R (Beater), David Chang 4R (Cho's cousin)

Others:
The Bloody Baron (Slytherin House Ghost), Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Slinky (the Slytherin House's chief house elf), House of Slytherin elves, Hogwarts' Kitchen Elves

Mentioned briefly: Staff: Albus Dumbledore (dying Headmaster, but ffs, not nearly fast enough...) Slytherins: Gregory Goyle 7S (Beater), Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, Winged ex-Couch still-Potato), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (Reserve Beater, yes, that.), Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser), Aaron Avery 6S (Reserve Chaser), Sheldon Shafiq 6S (Reserve Beater, and charm on legs), Hestia Carrow 6S (Chaser, sporty twin), Valerie 'Val' Vaisey 6S (Chaser), Róisín Rosier 6S, Wilfred Wilkes 4S Gryffindors: Fred and George Weasley Ravenclaws: Morag MacDougal 7R (lippy Muggle-born with that lippy) Hufflepuffs: Megan Jones 7H (the Muggle-born who quite sensibly left), Leanne Moon 7H (Megan's friend), Salome Smith 7H (née Perks, bonded to Zacharias Smith 6H), Hannah Abbott 7H (Prefect), Newton Kurz 4H (Potions Disaster, Hunter's and Dennis' friend) Others: Portrait Phineas Nigellus Black (HoS, One-time Headmaster), Flighty (Filius' personal elf)

Previously:

Severus gave Slinky permission to enter his office to get the Insalacious Saltpeter to dose the boys. 097

At lunch Tuesday 072, Sybill was rather rude towards Sarah until Barrymore straightened her out. She made up for it by giving Sarah the tip about Draco receiving three of those Slytherin mail snakes that she noticed in 069, and the two witches together came up with a 'Prophecy' related to them for Sarah to deliver to her N.E.W.T. Xylomancy class that afternoon. 072

Speaking with Hermione last night, Severus learnt how her Loyalty Vow doesn't seem to stop her - at all - from doing as she pleases. He finds that... distressing. 077

Theo discovered the letter Draco had received from his mother detailing what Professor Snape had reported to the inner circle as to the reasons for his bonding - apparently the seventh years had kidnapped a Muggle-born student and fed her a Lust Potion. Theo fears the worst and is having a breakdown. Daphne, trying to help, secretly used a Sleeping Charm on him. 080 When Theo can't be roused Wednesday morning, she worries it's related to her spell 093, and reports herself to Severus. 095

The Slytherin girls nominate Tracey and Flora to brew them some Pain Relieving Potion, and Ella and Daphne to research bonds. The male and female sixth year Chasers independently of one another decide to train with the reserve players during lunch. 083

Albus conned Hermione into taking another Oath, this time not to speak of the incident with the Marauders and Severus under the Whomping Willow their fifth year in exchange for details. Phineas Nigellus Black explained to her that it wasn't the... best move she could have made. For his standards, he was downright polite about it. Well, almost. 079

Blaise's mother threatened to halve his allowance. 094

As one of the initial 'death by one hundred paper cuts' measures Severus took against the boys, he has Sunny stealing some of their homework at night which he keeps destroying.

A house-elf can only be freed when their master presents them with clothes. Hermione's campaign to free the Hogwarts elves with the self-knitted items of clothing was always doomed to fail (and alienate). (Canon.)

Shortly before the midday meal is to begin, while the students - and faculty, for that matter - are still flooding the hallways of the school, Slinky appears before the Head of House's office.

To say he 'appears' isn't entirely accurate, as he's behind a near impenetrable house elf Disillusionment, and the fact they are never seen unless they choose to be really should give certain parties pause to think. There's not a witch or wizard alive who can cast the Charm remotely as well. Somehow that detail goes predominantly unnoticed.

Much like the elves, in fact.

He stands there in the school's customary tea towel uniform for the house elves, the Hogwarts' crest on his chest encircled by embroidered silver and green snakes, signifying he's an elf assigned to the noble House of Slytherin and not one of those other duffers. The snakes are larger than those of the other Slytherin elves, that and the additional flourish about them is the emblem of his office as the chief elf of the House, not that the humans ever seem to notice. The fact that that might largely be due to his almost never being visible to them doesn't seem to occur to him. But then, Slinky often prefers being bitter to thinking things through.

Which isn't to say he isn't given to thinking.

Right now, as it happens, he's thinking rather a lot.

Experimentation has shown Slinky that he has access to the other Houses, he can enter almost any classroom or Professor's office after hours, and even most of their private rooms. The majority of staff don't seem to have warded their areas against elves. He likes to think he's a very competent elf with strong magic, but he isn't (quite) vain enough to assume that's the case without confirmation. Subtle questioning of the unassigned elves over the decades has revealed that none of the rest seem to have managed to gain entry where he can't, but also that most haven't thought to try.

Slinky can't begin to explain why they wouldn't, dull creatures, but has come to think these are some of his distinguishing characteristics that helped him to become Slytherin's chief elf.

It's entirely possible decades in that position have had their effect on the elf as well.

He assumes there could be exceptions for the elves assigned to specific Houses, and as such has never asked the Ravenclaw elves if they have access to the Flitwick's classroom. He has, however... borrowed one of the uniforms from Flighty, the Flitwick's personal elf - briefly, just to try it - and determined both that his towel didn't permit Slinky to enter the Charms classroom after the wards were set and that he was still capable of entering the dungeons. The answer, he deduced, does not lie in what they wear.

He likes to consider all possibilities.

In all the years he's served, he's never seen one of the other Houses' elves or the general staff within the Slytherin dungeons, which made him wonder. Here, too, a bit of shrewd asking about that culminated in encouraging a few select others to test it revealed that they can't seem to pass through the House's wards. (And once again, they were largely baffled that he should expect them to wish to do so.) That magic apparently dates back to the Founder. Salazar Slytherin had been a cautious man, and tended to give things a great deal of thought.

At the moment, Slinky is doing his best to emulate him.

He stands there invisible in front of the Head's office door and considers what he should try first. This is one of the rooms he normally can't access. Professor Snape, however, has commanded him to fetch something from this room, and he doesn't doubt the wards will have been changed to permit him to do so. Not altogether certain if that access will be limited to a single entry, he presses against the wards and senses a difference. He's certain that he could get further than usual, but doesn't yet cross them.

He withdraws and contemplates if he can bring something foreign with him. Best to choose something innocuous, something he could explain away if he must... He Summons a pot of tea from the kitchens and tries again, but the wards resist. He deliberates again. He thinks some manner of vestments might work, as he was able to push into the warded area despite his towel. Sadly he hasn't the ability to Transfigure the tea and is highly disinclined to seek any human's assistance in the matter.

That's a problem...

Unable to discover a different solution and conscious that the time he has to complete his errand is running out, he Banishes the tea, and Apparates into the Head's office.

He isn't certain what he wants to do with his knowledge, but he is certain it's good to have.

The jar of Insalacious Saltpeter is waiting for him on the Professor's desk as promised. Slinky takes it in arm, worried that if any additional trials prove successful he'd better have it with him in case he can't return. A second attempt to Summon the teapot from the kitchens fails, as he had expected, but it's best to be thorough in these things.

He begins searching for something insignificant, likely not to be missed, and discovers the nib of a broken quill discarded beside the bin. This is especially promising as the ownership of a discarded object changes. If he can't Disapparate with this, then it rather thoroughly settles the matter. He picks it up and makes an attempt, and once more, the wards resist him. He returns the bit of rubbish to its original location and determines to wait to see how long he'd be permitted to stay, as the Professor hadn't specified the length of the visit. He hasn't long before he must leave to complete his chore anyhow, and it's certainly worth the few minutes more to test it.

He's a conscientious elf, now isn't he?

He has time for one final test before he goes, and tears off a bit of his tea towel which he hides with the nib behind the bin. If the quill tip had gone unnoticed, so too should the scrap of cloth, to his way of thinking.

He doesn't even have to wait another two minutes before there's a constriction that forms, pressing against him. Apparently the time for his access was limited by the wards if not the Professor's commands. He adds that bit of information to his growing collection. The pressure grows more and more, and unwilling to risk a forcible removal, he accepts he's being ejected and should leave on his own.

He begins to Disapparate, terribly pleased that he can despite having left something behind. That glee lasts seconds at best. Before he's able to completely Disapparate, he is horrified to see the bit of cloth disappear, Banished - somewhere - even as he leaves.

He reappears outside the office only a moment later, still clutching the jar of Saltpeter, frantically searching for the scrap of towel in the corridor.

He can't find it anywhere.

He Summons it, and it fails to come, the uniform belonging to the school, after all, and the discarded scrap most certainly not belonging to him.

And now he begins to panic in earnest. If the Head had it Banished to a specific location, he'll know when he sees it just what Slinky has attempted.

That can't possibly be good.

In something of a frenzy, he Apparates to the kitchens to ask the other elves for help, his plan to test if he could enter the office again forgotten completely.

It wouldn't have worked anyway.

Sarah Sapworthy, the generally cheery Professor of Xylomancy, swings by Sybill's classroom to inform her she's taking her colleague with her to lunch. Sybill's expression suggests she begs to differ, but she isn't given the chance.

"We're more likely to hear something there than you are hiding..."

"I'm not hiding," Sybill interjects, but Sarah just ignores her, waving a hand for her to be quiet.

"...hiding up here. And I'm lovely company," Sarah beams and Sybill weakens. Just a little. "Besides, I've cast the twigs," Sarah insists and now Sybill winces.

"Sorry about that," she mutters. She knows she hadn't been kind yesterday at lunch.

Sarah smiles, unperturbed, "Ah, but the twigs said you'll enjoy my company, so it's pretty much settled."

A little hesitantly, the Divinations Professor agrees, and Sarah leads her from her classroom. "And clearly my twigs are preferable to your cups, or do you mean to tell me your Tasseography failed to warn you of my arrival?"

Sybill sputters a bit, but again isn't provided with an opportunity to answer.

"Never mind, my dear, there are things a foot. You'll never believe what I learnt in class today..."

"Aren't you the one supposed to be teaching it?" Sybill snarks, digging up a spot of courage (surprisingly not of Dutch origin for once) to tease the witch.

"Hush. I'm certain we'll learn more in the Great Hall. Do you have a good Charm for listening in, or just for tuning out?" And happily chatting (well, Sarah more so than Sybill, but she's thawing), the women make their way to the Great Hall together.

Severus swoops into the Library, a man on a mission. A high priority mission. The realisation just how utterly... fucked- there's no use sugarcoating the situation - Miss Granger's Loyalty Vow is needs addressing, and how.

He strides into the Restricted Section and sets about gathering any book that seems remotely useful on the topic of structuring Vows. He doesn't give a damn about bonds - well... not for these purposes - and leaves those texts untouched, to the extent they don't overlap with his present interests at any rate. He makes quick work of amassing a ridiculous pile of books better suited to Miss Granger than himself, wonders when on earth he'll find the time to skim them all, and turns to head for Irma's checkout desk.

And then he stops, hesitates for a moment, and returns to the Restricted Section once more. He deposits his somewhat unwieldy stack on a nearby table and flipping through the indices of several tomes is soon able to add three books that reference the Somnolence Charm to his haul.

Therein might lie the answer to Miss Granger's sleep issues.

Which interest him only insofar as those very same issues seem to keep him from sleeping as well.

Obviously.

And of course, he'd promised Miss Greengrass to let her know if what she'd done to Nott had been harmful. He likes to keep his promises when he can.

Four of the books on Vows happen to also address the topic of bonds. It had been unavoidable, the intersection quite natural, and certainly not a deliberate selection on his part. These also happened to be close to the top of the heap. As Irma stamps the books, checking him out, her face sours slightly at the sight of those books, and Severus - preternaturally curious and ever vigilant - dips, oh so lightly, into her thoughts.

Terrible habit, that. Just like listening at doors.

It would seem Irma has some... choice thoughts about his apparent interest in the topic after his bonding.

Hmm.

Well.

It probably serves Severus right for his casual Legilimency. He was better off not knowing. She hadn't voiced them after all...

What's worse, so much so, he was inclined to agree with the witch.

While it's not quite as bad as finding himself in agreement with Potter, it's definitely not something that occurs all too often.

Fortunately, Severus is not superstitious.

He waits until he's exited the library, Irma is so easily enraged when it comes to her pergament darlings, performs an Incarcerous to bind the pile together and then shrinks the lot to a more manageable size before stashing them in his extended pocket and heading to lunch.

Daphne and Tracey accompany Hermione once again as she leaves Arithmancy, and the three witches start walking towards the Great Hall together for lunch. As they draw closer, Hermione begins to get antsy, because it occurs to her that she doesn't know how to inconspicuously absent herself beforehand. She hadn't really thought this one through - it's becoming a thing; she blames the stress - and she isn't great at spur of the moment excuses. Frankly, she tends to hold anyone who believes them for a prize idiot. The problem here, naturally, is once they get to the Great Hall, she'll be stuck sitting at the Gryffindor table, and there's no way she's subjecting herself to that.

Draught of Peace or not.

Finally as they're almost at the doors, Hermione comes up with a belated, "I need to run a few errands first. But I'll see both of you in Herbology?" It's weak tea. It has an odd ring to it, somehow not wholly convincing as she probably should have turned off earlier for almost any errand she could conceivably wish to run.

Well, unless she's headed back to quarters...

Maybe she'll pretend that's what she means to do.

She resolves to prepare better for these sorts of things in the future. She's just not used to needing excuses like this.

Daphne quickly agrees, 'Sure, see you later, Hermione,' but Tracey has some brewing to do with Flora, and - steeling her resolve - offers, 'I'm headed to the dungeons, Madam Snape, if you're going my way?' rather putting a spoke in Hermione's wheel.

Daphne beams at Tracey over Hermione's shoulder, so proud of her friend for making the effort. Tracey has to fight not to roll her eyes. Daph means well, but Nimue, she's about as subtle as a Hufflepuff.

Really all Hermione wants is just not to be in the Great Hall. But returning to chambers runs the risk of encountering the Professor, and she shouldn't like to explain to him why she's being avoidant, and so she obfuscates, "No, I need to stop by the library." Which she does, just not necessarily now.

She wonders if the Professor is beginning to rub off on her.

"But thanks for offering, Davis."

Tracey inclines her head slightly, it's hardly a nod. "Sure," she answers, still not sure that she is. It sounds good anyway.

Thinking about it, Hermione concludes a trip to the library seems like an excellent idea, really. She's eager to test if she can still even enter the facility. There was always a risk after yesterday's... scene that she was banned.

She tries not to think about that. No sense imaging the worst, she doesn't want to jinx things. As a Prefect, she'd probably have to take House points. (And then she thinks about her House and wonders if that would be a bad thing...)

They part ways, Daphne entering the Great Hall, Tracey leaving for the dungeons, and Hermione, now suddenly at sixes and sevens, elects to head for the alcove she'd used yesterday with Luna. Mindful of her promise to the Ravenclaw not to skip meals, she calls for Sunny who appears immediately, and asks him if he would mind bringing her something to eat.

"Whatever they're having in the Great Hall would be lovely. Please don't go to any bother."

But for once the elf doesn't seem happy to just pop off and do her bidding, which - for all she doesn't appreciate the concept of their indentured servitude - she'd still have preferred.

No. No, instead he flies into quite a tizzy and gives her a piece of his elven mind.

"Mistress is doing dishes!

"Mistress is making bed!

"Mistress is cleaning clothes!"

Or possibly several pieces.

"Mistress has no use for Sunny!"

Well.

Kreacher had often been intractable, she'd grown used to that. This is something else altogether and she isn't certain where to start.

So as a matter of personal preference, she goes with logic.

Logically.

It is shocking how few individuals that actually convinces.

"Of course I have use for you," she tries to console the outraged little elf. "I did just ask you to bring me something to eat, didn't I?"

Naturally it would have been far too simple had that worked.

"Mistress no is wanting Sunny's help, Mistress no is getting Sunny's help." Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensues, or at least it seems that way to Hermione, and before she knows it, she's making all kinds of concessions, if only he'll stop.

Which apparently was all it took.

Smiling, he pops out of sight to fetch her something to eat and Hermione's left wondering what hit her. (The answer to that is rarely actually 'the Knight Bus', it just feels like it.)

When the Bloody Baron fades into sight beside her, she's no longer surprised. She's half expecting a lecture.

He doesn't disappoint.

"Had you... intended to agree to the elf's demands?" Comes the whisper. She could swear it sounds reproachful. Absently she's left wondering if it still counts as a lecture if it's murmured.

Well, no, she hadn't. But clearly he knows that. She doesn't answer, apparently having neither the ability to lie well nor the energy left to try.

"Madam, you mustn't feel you need to rush into things. Don't concede to demands unless you agree with them or are receiving something for them in exchange. Preferably both."

Technically, she is receiving something for this, thank you very much. It begins with lunch, and then goes on to include all manner of elven services she didn't actually want. So, yes, she is getting something...

"Something you want," the Baron amends, which is when she realises she's been ranting out loud.

That's not embarrassing in the least.

Well, she's agreed not to do the dishes anymore. There are worse fates. And she won't be making her bed, either. And she definitely won't be cleaning her clothes on her own. Possibly she agreed to let the elf cook, although she hadn't had any plans to the contrary.

Actually, she'll forget about not making her bed, accidentally do so and then have to undo it. But she will remember not to clean her clothes. Oddly, when she gets dressed tomorrow morning, she'll discover that her elf laundered robes have a nice hint of lavender scent about them. Lavender and something else... She won't place it, it will be too subtle, but it will be a touch of beebalm. She also won't notice because the change will be gradual, but that scent becomes a little stronger each day. Something will seem vaguely familiar about it, but she won't identify it for a while yet.

And then it will hit her: she smells more and more like the blanket Madam Pomfrey had given them.

She just can't imagine why...

A plate of food appears between her and the Baron bearing an absolutely scrumptious beef butty the like of which she's never seen in the Great Hall. Apparently acquiescing to the elf's demands is well rewarded. Her mouth begins to water just from the sight and smell of the thing.

A little tentatively, she asks the ghost if he'd mind if she ate while he watches.

"Mind?" He finds the witch exceedingly confusing. "Why should I mind, Madam?"

"Well, because..." Because he can't eat, obviously, and probably hasn't done for about a millennium, and has to sit, hover, float there watching, she imagines, but now has to wonder if pointing that out doesn't just make it worse.

She tries again from a different approach. "Nearly Headless Nick tends not to appreciate it."

But the Baron simply blinks. When she doesn't continue he feels pressed to explain, "I am not he."

Well, obviously. And she's left wondering how stupid he thinks she is. She's forced to soldier on to rectify that. "I wasn't certain if that was specific to him, or a preference of ghosts in general."

The Baron lets out a sound like a creaky door, desperately in need of oiling, and she realises he's... laughing. Which seems like it should be a first.

"By all means, Madam, don't let my presence keep you from your meal. Sir Nicholas can be..."

"Tetchy?"

"Indeed." He bobs his head, and she could swear he's smirking.

Hermione takes a bite, and Holy Cricket, the thing is phenomenal. A fresh barm cake instead of bread, the meat is brilliantly spiced and perfectly done, and some homemade horseradish compliments it to a T.

She swallows and looks about, and a glass of milk appears next to her plate. She didn't even have to ask for it. So important for dental health, milk, and not that pumpkin stuff for once. Mercy is she pleased.

She tries not to think that the Professor could probably learn a thing or two about positive reinforcement from the elf and fails, and then feels guilty, of course, because it's not as though Sunny has a cover to maintain as a spy...

The Baron patiently waits for her to make inroads into her lunch, and she eventually addresses his earlier concerns, "You're not the first person to tell me I need to be more careful when agreeing to people's, er, others' demands. I heard pretty much the same thing from Headmaster Black last night in Professor Dumbledore's office. I'll make an effort not to forget it." She takes another bite and hums happily, "Although this time it seems to be paying off at least."

"May I ask how it went yesterday evening?" He has an idea having seen her after the exchange. The question serves two purposes, he's seeking details and testing her willingness to confide in him. He has no expectations as to what extent she should, he simply finds it... expedient to gauge where they stand.

"Poorly. Very poorly as Headmaster Black was keen to point out." Hermione's face pinches and then clouds at the recollection of how easily Professor Dumbledore had outmanoeuvred her and her shoulders sag some. "You wouldn't have been pleased with my performance," she tells the ghost wryly. She can own her failures. It's how she learns to do better.

Well, unless faced with a caterwauling house elf apparently...

The Baron nods to himself. Yes, Phineas was likely to be difficult confronted with a Muggle-born as the Head's bondmate. He can see it all too clearly. He imagines the portrait won't have been... kind.

"The Headmaster was... problematic?"

Her lips purse at the thought again. She's not fond of failure, and it's clear: she'd failed yesterday. "That's putting it mildly." Hermione's emotions are easy to read; depending on one's inclination, it's either her strength or her weakness. Either way, her displeasure is clear.

Unfortunately what's less clear is which Headmaster each of them mean.

The Baron comes away from the conversation with the sense that he needs to have a word with Phineas. A stern one.

And he will.

Soon.

As the students are filing into the Great Hall for lunch, Filius calls for Mr. Knox to come see him. He's one of his fourth years, and the Head of Ravenclaw has reason to believe the only one of the boys not to have been involved in the duel the other night. The two in the Infirmary, Misters Ackerly and Inglebee, had quite clearly taken part. Of the remaining three, Mr. Knox is the most improbable suspect of the bunch. Filius finds the notion that he'd waylay a lone boy like that inconceivable.

Filius is so polite as to walk over to the side of the table to speak to the lad. He hates putting the children on display in front of the whole Hall like that, and Mr. Knox most certainly isn't in any trouble. There's no need to embarrass the boy further.

Robert approaches the High Table without hesitation, that doesn't come until Professor Flitwick asks him about last night's duel, in which several of his House had apparently ganged up on a solitary Hufflepuff. Now Robert risks a nervous glance over his shoulder to spot the other fourth years eyeing him warily, and sighs in resignation. He's not in a good position here.

Cautiously, he replies, "I wasn't part of it, Sir." Filius doesn't say anything, but eyes him kindly for a moment and then the boy continues, feeling the need to distance himself from their craven actions. "I would never do such a thing."

"I had thought as much, Mr. Knox, but I'm pleased to hear it. That takes character." And without naming names, but by admitting he hadn't participated, he's told Filius everything he needs to know. "Thank you, my boy.

"I don't suppose you have any idea what it was about?"

Robert shifts uncomfortably, but he hasn't been asked to point any fingers. This he can probably answer without violating their House's unspoken code of conduct. "Potions incident. Kurz made a dog's dinner of our assignments Monday."

"Very well, my boy. I appreciate your forthcomingness." Robert isn't sure he had been so very, and he's left both feeling he hasn't gone far enough and somehow too far. It's not easy being a boy his age. But he does his best and that's better than most.

Filius is inclined to think he'd make a better Prefect than Mr. Chang, which would come as a surprise to a great many people next year. A student's marks aren't everything. Moral fibre is grossly undervalued.

The little Charmsmaster sends the lad back to his table where Stewart and David instantly demand to know what Flitwick had wanted from him.

It helps that he's honestly able to say he hadn't volunteered a single name.

Barrymore Beckford is once again being interviewed by the Ancient Studies Professor who somehow just can't seem to bring himself to ask him precisely how old he is. Apparently the (much) younger man takes it for frightfully rude. Instead, by means of a series of circuitous questions, he's trying to narrow it down, but Barrymore has recognised what he's doing and is having a spot of fun with misleading answers.

For example, he tells the story of how his Muggle-born students now say he resembles Einstein, but back in the day used to say he looked like Mark Twain.

The man racks his brain, Barrymore quite likes the pinch of his face as he concentrates, but eventually remembers his own Muggle Studies courses well enough to have a general idea what time period that might reflect.

Now had Barrymore gone on to say that as a younger wizard, they used to compare him to Edgar Allen Poe (apparently yet another handsome devil), it might have given the man a more accurate idea as to just when he was a younger wizard, and he might be thinking earlier 19th century as opposed to latter. Of course, had he told the man his Muggle father was mayor of London - in the 1760s - that would almost certainly have done the job. But he's deriving too much enjoyment out of watching the man think.

There aren't but so many sports left to wizards well over two hundred years of age.

When Sybill again takes the seat next to him, he smiles at her welcomingly and nods a greeting towards Sarah, who has stopped to speak to Pomona about Miss Jones. "Seeing things more clearly today?" He asks the Divination Professor, his eyes twinkling.

"If the rabble don't cloud my inner eye..." she replies, gesturing to the students.

"Speaking on behalf of the rabble, I'm glad you decided to join us," he smiles kindly.

Sybill suspects the rabble disagree, but the sentiment is nice. "Ah. Well. Sarah performed a spot of Xylomancy, and the results were favourable. So here I am."

"Twigs?" He enquires with a gleam of mischief in his eye.

"Hmm. Perhaps my words yesterday weren't well considered."

"I dare say Sarah won't hold them against you."

"No, she seems very... forgiving that way."

"It might be worth making a bit of an effort to not offend her quite so much moving forward," he suggests.

"I was considering it," she admits a mite grudgingly.

"Capital! I'm extremely glad to hear it, my dear girl. Lovely smile on that woman. It would be a shame not to see it more often."

"Hmm," Sybill allows, not revealing much, keeping her tarot cards as ever close to her bead-covered breast. "I'll take that under advisement."

"Well, now that's a relief." His eyes are twinkling again, but it really is difficult to take his teasing in anything but a playful light.

"Hullo, Barrymore," Sarah chirps, sliding into the seat next to Sybill.

"Sarah, my dear, you're looking just lovely today. Something seems to be agreeing with you." He takes her blush for agreement as to that agreement, although she's quick to object and fill him in on the sad news about Miss Jones.

They aren't the only ones discussing it.