Prisoner of Azkaban 1 – You Can’t Trace Time
The summer holiday was a much-needed time of rest and recovery for Rhiannon and the Lovegood household. Ron had planned on visiting for the July full moon, but much to his family’s delight and surprise they had won a small lottery and went on holiday to visit the oldest Weasley son Bill at his most recent work-site in Egypt instead. Rhiannon didn’t mind – she hated to admit it, but she was too weary to be good company for any friends just yet. The only one she might have made an exception for was Hermione, but understandably, Hermione wasn’t up to leaving her house yet. Hermione did send letters though – not long ones, but but affectionate and filled with little drawings and messages that lifted Rhiannon’s spirits.
As the Weasleys were on holiday and as Molly Weasley had insisted on throwing Rhiannon’s birthday herself, it was postponed. They had a small celebration themselves for Dudley’s birthday at the very end of June, a little late but nobody had been up to it on the day after they returned home from school. Rhiannon didn’t mind waiting. She still didn’t feel up to the amount of excitement a real birthday asked for, she still had questions unanswered about Ginny’s health, and more than anything she needed the rest.
But as time slowly inched past, Rhiannon began to recover and she began to regain some measure of hope. Letters came from Hogwarts reminding her to choose her subjects for the next year, as from third year onwards students took certain classes as electives. But the letters held more than just a request, as they came to all three students in the Lovegood household one sunny morning in early July, lettered in neat forest-green.
Dear Rhiannon Potter, she read, as she sat cross-legged on the couch to look over the message,
As you know, the past year at Hogwarts has been a troubled one. To the students and their families who have decided to leave us, I understand, though we will all miss you.
Changes must be made at Hogwarts. Last year’s danger did not fester over just the last fifty years, it was the symptom of a much deeper problem with the school as a whole – of division. Our newest Head Student spent three years sleeping on a couch in their common room, because the administration refused to allow them basic accommodation. Vicious rivalries fester between students, fostered by a divisive house system that itself is the result of divided founders.
Hogwarts is a school. It should not be a vessel for the biases and rivalry of the founders. Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw we know of as the four founders of this school – representing England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales respectively.
Few remember the fifth. Morveren Miremark the Farsighted was a great sorcerell from Cornwall who, with the four others, built, enchanted and founded what we now know as Hogwarts School of Magic. They opposed the proposed system of dividing students into houses of the founders, and when their fellows did not agree, they were the first to abandon the school.
It is my belief that the system of houses at Hogwarts fosters too much old rivalry to be safe as it is any longer. For purposes of practicality and friendly competition, it is useful – but Sorted as students are, the division becomes too ingrained and most students form friendships only within their assigned House. That is not the unity I want for us. So, with the Board in agreement, students will be re-Sorted each year, to foster better unity throughout the school. The Sorting Ceremony will remain to welcome first-years to the school, as is our tradition, but these divisions are not set in stone and seven years of experience as they have been before.
And in memory of Morveren Miremark, a fifth house will be founded. Miremark stood against division, and encouraged their peers and students alike to think critically and take pride in individuality, a spirit we need to encourage at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school for all and I am determined that we shall go forward into the new year together, and start the process of leaving traditions that hold us back in the past where they belong.
This is not meant to change minds. To those of you who must leave us, I hope you find safety and a new home wherever you settle, and I am happy to write letters of recommendation to any who need them. To those who wish to stay – I look forward to seeing you in the new year. And to those who are yet to begin Hogwarts – we welcome the differences you bring. Hogwarts will now accept students previously excluded from magical education, and we hope to learn from you even as you learn from us.
Yours,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmaster
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Rhiannon gaped, open mouthed, at the parchment that lay in her lap. She inspected the seal more closely, and sure enough – it had changed. Now the shield was divided into five spaces, with a horse rearing in the space at the top, between the lion and snake. She had guessed that Minerva McGonagall had planned changes for Hogwarts, but nothing so drastic... but the letter, heartfelt as it was, convinced her to set aside her anxiety over her place in Gryffindor house no longer being certain, in favour of excitement. Minerva was right – last year’s horrors had grown from a centuries-old hatred settled deep in the heart of Slytherin house, left there by its founder, one that made Slytherin house a cruel place to the minority who did not agree. And that was only the most visible problem with one house in particular – the previous system as a whole was flawed.
There was a great whoop from across the room, as Dudley finished reading. “YESSS!” he cried, waving the letter in the air. Even Luna smiled, dreamy-eyed, at the thought of a changed Hogwarts.
Xenophilius poked his head out of the kitchen where he’d been disagreeing with the oven since early that morning. “I take it you’ve got good news?” he asked, looking a little bewildered at the outburst of enthusiasm.
Dudley bounced in his seat, nodding eagerly, while Luna stood and crossed the room to hand her father the letter for his perusal. “Better than good,” xe replied, one hand bouncing against his hip as ve waited for Xenophilius to finish reading.
Slowly, a smile spread across Xenophilius’ face. He was not one for cheering and arm-waving the way Dudley was, but he bounced on the balls of his feet and his grip tightened on the parchment. “I suppose I’d better teach you three the Colour-Changing Charm, for when we hear what houses you end up in this year!” he said, with a grin. Then he frowned, and looked to Rhiannon. “But that’s enough – Rhiannon dear, don’t you have subjects to choose? Best get them done as quickly as possible, we can’t do the Diagon Alley trip until we get your list of supplies.” he reminded her.
Rhiannon set aside the letter to look over the instructions for choosing her subjects. That was a lot simpler to process than all the changes McGonagall had planned. There were six elective subjects. For the first two years at Hogwarts they had taken Care of Magical creatures as a sort of introduction, so that regardless of whether they intended to study the field, all students would have enough knowledge of magical creatures that shared their world to keep themselves safe should they encounter any. Now it was an elective subject, along with five others. Those were Magic in the Arts, Arithmancy, Divination, Muggle Studies and the study of Ancient Runes. Rhiannon felt torn. She’d heard the Divination professor was a little scattered... but she liked the idea of all of those subjects. Care of Magical Creatures wasn’t her best, as many of the creatures were suspicious of a werewolf, but she had managed alright for the past year and enjoyed the outdoors time that the subject brought. And Arts... from the looks of things, it meant all the arts. She could learn music, something she’d always wanted to try.
Rhiannon gave up trying to decide between the subjects, as even Muggle Studies interested her, and just selected all six of them with a shrug. She assumed they’d just fit her into whichever classes had room, and returned the page with her choices to the owl that had delivered it with a smile and some murmurs of thanks. The bird still looked dissatisfied, so Rhiannon returned to where it stood on the coffee table and scratched it under its’ beak as its’ eyes closed with pleasure. Now suitably paid for its efforts, the bird shuffled off and took flight, leaving through an open window as Rhiannon returned to reading a book as a way of keeping her excitement contained. This year was going to be a good one.
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Rhiannon expected to hear back about her classes quickly – mail carried by owl-flight and magic never had much delay. But it wasn’t until nearly the end of July that she heard back from Hogwarts, in the form of a visit from the Headmaster herself.
Minerva McGonagall knocked on the Rookery’s freshly-painted blue door at around eleven o’clock on the morning of the eighteenth of July. Everyone was surprised to see her, but she greeted them politely and whispered conspiratorially with Xenophilius, who beamed and ushered Rhiannon and the Headmaster into his study upstairs, while he remained downstairs with Luna and Dudley.
“So,” Minerva said, as she settled herself into Xenophilius’ desk chair. Rhiannon perched on the edge of an armchair anxiously. Was she in trouble? But no, the Headmaster’s eyes glimmered with humour. “I should have known you would be an over-achiever.” she said, with a slightly exasperated smile.
Rhiannon blinked, bemused, and Minerva chuckled. “No, lass, you’re not in trouble – goodness, please sit down, you’re making me nervous perching there.” the Headmaster added with a laugh. Rhiannon did as she was bid, though she fidgeted with her ring and bracelet as she waited for Minerva to explain.
“Personally, I would be... loathe, to let you attempt this, but Ingólfur has been on my case about not holding back talented students out of my own worry... he called me a mother hen when I took it to him,” Minerva hedged, with a wry chuckle. Rhiannon snickered at the image, and to her surprise the severe woman screwed up her face in a very childish expression at Rhiannon, making her giggle. “The bottom line is that you are a very promising student, with a wide range of interests and talents. And if you truly cannot decide classes – you selected all six because you weren’t sure, you were interested in them all – correct?” the Headmaster inquired, to which Rhiannon nodded stiffly. “Then there is another option. With permission from the Ministry, there is precedent for promising students studying an – extended program, of sorts, with the aid of a Ministry-granted Time-Turner.”
Rhiannon gaped, and leaned forward in her chair. “I could – time travel – to take more classes?” she asked, a wild grin spreading over her face. Of all the things people could do with time travel – she had the opportunity to use it so she could do extra work. A giggle bubbled up inside her and she fiddled with her bracelet as a distraction, trying not to explode with laughter. It was such a – Dudley would tease her for it. Was she allowed to talk to Dudley about it? Rhiannon looked up curiously, to see McGonagall shaking her head, still smiling that wry smile.
“Yes, you could. No, you may not discuss it with your cousin or Mx. Lovegood – it might influence their choices next year, and I would prefer that students only come to this possibility by their own chance. There is a tome of rules and guidelines, avoidance of paradoxes – that kind of thing. If you wish to pursue this, there is an agreement that you and your guardian – a position that has been transferred to Mr. Lovegood – must both sign. And Rhiannon – there is the matter of your lycanthropy to consider. If there are any problems, you will have to stop and set some classes aside. You will not use your Time Turner in the week preceding the full moon, or during the week of it – you will have to do your extra classes independently in that time. And you may not discuss it with others except those doing extra classes like you do, except for your foster-father. The teachers of your electives are aware that some students may be taking extra classes, but may not discuss it with you. Is this all clear?” Minerva explained, looking over the rims of her glasses at Rhiannon.
Rhiannon nodded eagerly. “Yes, Headmaster,” she replied, bouncing in her seat. “I’d – really, really like to t-t-t-t-t-tr-tr-try, even if it doesn’t work out – I can’t learn less, right?”
Minerva chuckled, and reached over to ruffle Rhiannon’s hair. “That’s very true, lass. You’ll come to me if you need anything, though – make sure you do. Or to Madam Pomfrey, or – we have a new teacher this year. I think you might like him.” she said, with a wink. Rhiannon spluttered and protested, but Minerva would say no more.
“You’ll receive your regular Hogwarts letter in – oh, a week or so, two at most. It would be best if you could make the decision and send it in to us before then, as we need to put a supply list together for you. It will be good to have you back this year – all three of you and your friends besides.” Minerva said finally. She tugged Rhiannon into an embrace and patted her on the shoulder as she departed. Rhiannon escorted her back downstairs, smiling to herself.
“Do wish Miss Weasley a happy birthday from me, will you? She deserves it.” Minerva added, patting Rhiannon’s hand. Rhiannon nodded agreement, and wished her favourite teacher farewell, then closed the door in a rush and covered her ears just in time to escape the worst of the thunderous crack that was wizarding Apparation. She realised, as she turned away from the door to take the agreement to her foster-father so they could review it together, that she had not asked the new Headmaster who her replacement as Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House was going to be.