#posts for exactly one of my followers. hi ramz

[collegeoflore]

in keeping with my theme of “ieriyn is just luke fon fabre” i made the dream visitor a guy who could conceivably cosplay van grants.

[unseelieaccords]

Dresden at Hogwarts

Due to popular demand, this is everything I have written (including both bits I’ve posted). I’m not likely to write any more than this, so feel free to take it, run with it, add to it, change it, or whatever you like. I’m working more on Original Fiction, and going in to doing an MA in Creative Writing which is why I probably won’t get around to doing any more.

Enjoy.

“There has got to be someone better qualified for this, sir...”

I looked across at Ebenezer on the other side of the table. My old teacher picked up his bottle and took a swig, and shook his head. “Given what happened at headquarters this summer, and the war we're really not in an excess of people.”

I groaned, and rested my head in my hand. “But really?”

“We're stretched beyond our limits.” Ebenezer said giving me a solid look. He lent in and spoke quietly. “The entire new generation of wardens has been compromised, and with the vampire war...”

I took a swig of my beer and placed it down a little too heavily.

“Hogwarts is an ancient establishment.” Eb continued. “Merlin, the original, went there. It helps pick out people strong enough for the council. And trains those that aren't to a point they can defend themselves.”

“Yeah. I know the place.” I rubbed the still very angry scar over my eye from the escapades earlier in the year. “Well, I've heard of it. But why?”

“There was a warlock in the UK a number of years back, about 15, 14 years. Man by the name of Tom. Took a new name for himself, and caused a lot of trouble. Even our best at the time couldn't catch him. But one day a death curse back fired, and killed him. Sent a lot of his followers running. There's an entire government for magic in the UK below the council, and they dealt with a lot of it. But last year one of his followers managed to impersonate a teacher, and one of the students died, another one witnessed it. Boy by the name of Potter.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Potter's the boy that the spell backfired off that killed Tom the first time.”

I choked on my beer at that. “What? A death curse just bounced off him?”

“Mhm.” Eb sipped his own drink. “Thing is Potter says that on that night he witnessed a gathering of warlocks, and they brought Tom back to life.”

“What kind of a name is Tom for a Warlock...” I moped up the beer I'd managed to spill down my shirt with a hanky from my pocket.

“He tended to go by Voldemort.”

Harry looked up. “So this... Government. They have enforcers, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don't they employ someone to check in.”

“They have.”

“Then what am I doing?”

“Their official stance is that Tom isn't back.”

I looked at my old teacher. “So one group says there's a warlock that's come back to life, and another group of other warlocks following him. Meanwhile the government that's supposed to be taking care of this... sits on their hands with their heads up their arses?”

“The government is of the belief that the headmaster of the school is a warlock trying to corrupt the students.”

“Oh... Oh hells bells...”

“So the woman they've sent in will be there to keep an eye on that. But the headmaster is adamant that this other warlock is back.”

“So you want me to do what exactly?”

“I want you, as an investigator and a warden, to find out what's going on. To approach the school and find out what's going on there, whether the headteacher is a warlock, whether the boy is telling the truth and the other warlock has returned, or if his mind has been tampered with and he only thinks it's true. It could be a ploy played on the young boys mind in order to cover up illicit activities at the school. Maybe he saw something he shouldn't have.”

I frowned and drained the rest of my beer. “What about Molly?”

“If you need someone to watch over her, she's welcome to stay at mine while you're working.”

I thought about that. It did sound important, but it could take me out of Chicargo for a while.

“I need to make a few phone calls. How long have I got to get back to you?”

“Term starts on September First.” Eb said. “I'll sort it all out so you've got somewhere to stay when you get there.”

I nodded and pushed myself up. “So a few days.”

Eb nodded and finished his own drink. “You'll be paid for your work.”

“Good. I don't do charity.” I pushed myself up. “I'll get back to you tomorrow.”

---

I made a few phone calls the moment I got in. Murphy, Ramzes, Elaine, the Alpha's and the Paranet could cover Chicargo, hopefully, while I was out of town. Assuming it wasn't for too long and I could always hop back and forth along the way if I needed too. With some luck no big nasties would come through while I was out. Maybe.

Next came Michael, Charity and Molly. I figured a personal visit was best there. I discussed it over with them, to make sure it was all okay. Molly seemed up for it, Michael was supportive. Charity was eternally sceptical of anything that came from me but reluctantly agreed. Molly could stay with Eb and do some learning there while I was gone. It would be good for her. Was good for me. Ebenezer was the best thing that could have happened to me after everything I'd been through.

Thomas was still... absent was probably the right word. So I left him a message, but didn't expect to hear back from him before I'd gone. But he'd been through a lot. He needed time, and space... It would be all right.

Eventually.

---

I could only describe his trip to Hogwarts as one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.  

While the Way between Chicargo and Edinburgh had been pretty simple, Ebenezer had suggested I take something called the Knight Bus to the school.

Never. Again.

I stumbled off the triple decker heaving and trying not to hurl my lunch up on the road.

“Aye you' right?” The conductor called out.

“I'm fine.” I lied, and heaved once more.

The man shrugged, and moved back inside, before BANG crack! The bus was gone. Where? Not a clue. Not a care. As long as it was away from me.

I've experienced smoother earthquakes and less nauseating concussions. I pulled myself up and rubbed my face taking in the surroundings for the first time, breathing in the fresh mountain air. That was something I think I could get used too.

Hogwarts was a castle, an old one at that, visible in the distance through the gates, up a winding drive way. Behind me, also quite a distant, was a village that looked like it had been cut and paste from an old fashioned picture book on to the landscape. There was a railway running towards the town from the mountains in the distance, a lake off to one side, and a long country road leading up to the gates where I was at.

I turned to look up the driveway. A woman was approaching, wearing a long old fashioned cloak, not entirely unlike my warden cloak except green rather than grey. She had a pair of glasses perched on her ageing nose and though she was around 5'9” she still managed to find a way to make it seem like she was looking down at me. I looked down at myself wondering if I should have made a bit more of an effort. I was dressed as I usually was, the first t-shirt on top of the clean laundry pile, pair of jeans I'd pulled off the floor that didn't smell yet, old boots, with my trademark duster thrown over the top. Though on top of that I had the warden's cloak. Official business and all that. In one hand I carried my wizard staff, my blasting rod hung at my side from a leather thong and my bag thrown over my shoulder.

The woman at the gates settled her eyes on me. “Mr Dresden, I assume?”

“Call me Harry.”

“Mr Dresden.” she insisted. “I am Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Head Teacher, and head of Gryffindor House. I teach transfiguration here at the school. I'm here to show you in. Our students will be arriving later tonight.”

“Erm. Thanks.”

She didn't look entirely impressed as she looked me over. She nodded, and pulled out a wand. She waved it at the gates and they opened with a quiet creek.

“Then allow me to invite you in to our school.” she said.

“Thank you.”

I eyed the woman over again as we walked up. The tall pointed hat on her head and a down to the floor length dress beneath the cloak. She looked designed for the position of a teacher, like she'd been doing it her whole life. She put the wand back in a special pocket in her robe. I could feel a thrum of power around it all of it's own, and wondered if that was from use or from something else. My staff and blasting rod were tools not unlike her wand, but without me they didn't hold much power themselves. The rings on my fingers, while they stored energy, it was my energy. The energy in her wand seemed almost separate from her, like it would exist without her there holding it, in the same way a potion would work for whoever drank it, though not always as affective for someone it wasn't designed for. Curious.

I cleared my throat as we walked. “So, I guess you know why I'm here?”

“I can make a guess of it.” Minerva glanced at me out the corner of her eye. “But an explanation would not hurt the situation.”

I looked away. “Well, warlock activity last term, and I hear there was a rogue dementor attack over the summer against a student?”

The thin line of her mouth seemed to get even thinner. “Yes, there was.”

“So the international White Council thought they'd send someone in to, you know, check up on things. Make sure there's no more warlock activity going on. Just make sure everything's hunkydory.”

“Hunkydory indeed.” she muttered.

We fell in to a frosty silence as we walked.

We were rapidly approaching the school now. Off to one side the lake was visible, stretching out in to the mountains in the far distance. To the other side there was a huge forest stretching off just as far, and just as deep it seemed. There was a small hut in front of the forest, with a little garden around it, but no smoke from the chimney, nor light in the windows.

The ground sloped up at various angles towards the castle at the top: a mass of twisting towers and arching roofs, huge windows looking out in all directions reflecting light off the cloudy Scottish sky. The entire land was full of energy and magic, moving in all directions. It felt almost like we weren't on earth at all, stuck somewhere between earth and the Never Never. It was an impressive sight. Ancient, and powerful. Deep down in the earth it felt like the entire thing was built across a layline in a similar way to Demonreach, except the energy here was much more pleasant.

We approached the door and it opened for us letting us inside.

Hot Damn...

The entrance hall was huge, stairs and doors leading off in to a twisting maze of passageways in all directions. Pictures from an ancient time set in to the walls, covered by portraits that moved. Far above us were staircases, and they moved too, twisting and turning like they couldn't sit around all day.

“I'll show you to your room.” she explained. “Do you know how long you'll be staying?”

“Probably not too long.” I muttered, ripping my eyes away from the stairs to look at the woman next to me. “Hopefully not too long. Depends how long it takes and if I'm needed back home.”

“The life of a warden must be a very busy one.” she said solidly, and seriously. “Is there still trouble with the vampires, or has peace been negotiated?”

“We're on a cease fire.” I frowned. “It won't last.”

They could replenish their ranks a lot faster than we can replenish ours. It was a concerning point at the moment. More than a few of the wardens who'd lost their lives in this war had come from this school. We fell quiet. It was a solemn subject. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing, wondering how many more kids she'd taught would end up in battles in far away places, torn apart by monsters.

The silence was broken by a tiny cough from across the hall.

“Ahem.”

The noise made me jump. We looked up. The woman standing before me looked like the Pink Panther and a toad met in a crazy cat lady's house and made a very ugly baby. She was short, incredibly short, and dressed entirely in pink. Actually short didn't entirely do it justice either, the woman was smaller than Murphy. She was nearly two thirds of my size! And she was stout to boost, giving her the look of someone who had been normal sized once and had been forced down and out.

The frosty exterior of Professor McGonagall seemed to grow colder. She could have given Mab herself a run for her money with that attitude. I felt like taking a step away from her but held my ground. Noted: do not cross the transfiguration teacher.

“Can I help you Dolores?” she said, entirely unimpressed with the woman's presence it seemed.

“I asked you to inform me when the representative arrived.” the woman said politely. The smile on her face made her look like a toad eyeing over a particularly juicy fly.

“Well as you can see, he has only just arrived.” Minerva frowned. “And I was just taking him to his room.”

The woman stood up straight and turned to me. She extended her hand. “Dolores Umbrdge. Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, appointed to teach Defence against the Dark Arts.”

“Erm... Harry Dresden...” I took her hand and shook it. I had to stoop slightly to do it.

“I would like to extend a promise of full cooperation in your investigation, Mr Dresden. I have heard all about it, and I would like to assure you that you have the full backing of the Ministry for Magic, and the Minister himself.”

“Err... Thanks? I'll remember that.”

At that she nodded her head, and scooted off, her heals clicking on the flag stone floor as she went.

“What a strange woman...” I muttered.

“Hmm.” was all McGonagall had to say about it. “If you will follow me.” she moved off without another word.

She started up the stairs and I followed her, long legs taking two at a time. We walked through several corridors ending up in an out of the way area of the castle. She opened a door for me letting us inside.

It was like a small apartment. The door opened in to a small sitting room with a desk area, a fire place, and some old overstuffed chairs in. The window looked down over the lake. There was a door leading to a small bedrooms.

“Professor Dumbledore is busy at the moment but he'd be glad to talk to you before the students arrive. If you will excuse me I have to make sure everything is running smoothly. The password for the staff bathroom is Pickled Lemon. If you need help getting around, finding things, ask the portraits.” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world to do.

Why would I need a password for a bathroom? Was there an appointed guard?

“Yeah. Thank you Professor,” I said.

She extracted herself and moved off swiftly in to the castle.

I entered the room properly, closing the door behind me. I set my bag down on the couch and moved to look out the window. Down in the lake he could see something moving. A moment later a giant tentacle lifted out the water and flopped back down again. A giant squid? Unless it was a giant octopus or something.

I flopped down in to one of the chairs, sat back and closed my eyes, rubbing them and feeling the last of my travel sickness fade in to the background. So this was Hogwarts? I might as well start here and now.

I reached across for my bag opening it up and rustling around inside. I pulled a skull out of it and looked around before putting it down on the table. I got up to draw the curtains so the room was dark, and lit a few candles with an effort of will and an old spell. I pulled a note book and pencil out of the bag and knocked on the skull with the eraser on the end as I sat down.

“Wake up sleepy bones.”

The eyes of the skull glowed, and it turned to look at me and yawned.

“Such originality.” a voice drifted from it. “Never heard that one before. I just spent the entire journey with your socks stuffed in my eye-socket.”

“Mhm.” Harry said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.

“Hogwarts! Ah, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.” the skull sang with amusement. I glanced at him. Bob cackled. “What's a shmuck like you doing in an elite academy like this?”

“Work.” I frowned. “What can you tell me about the school?”

“More than the standard Hogwarts: A History. That's for sure.” he said in amusement. He glanced around and thought in amusement. “So are there any school girls around?”

“You're disgusting, perverted, and they're under age.”

“Not all of them.” Bob said knowingly.

“Bob!” I snapped.

“Never any fun.” Bob sighed. “Hogwarts is a school for a very specific branch of magic widely practices in Europe and Asia.”

“It differs from normal magic?” I asked, jotting information down.

“Mhm. It's uses a very specific form of focus wand.” Bob explained. “Where as your focuses use symbolism, the foci for this are practically alive, in a primitive sense of the word.”

I thought about McGonagall's wand for a moment. “That's interesting.” I muttered. “How does that work?”

“Usually with a very specific school of teaching. It's a very affective form of magic for those with limited ability. The wand can even act as a form of shield for your mind so in using it you can cast wordless magic.”

“That's... huh...” I thought about how useful that might be. I'd have to look in to that when I had the time.

I noted that down and thought about where to move next.

“Ok. What can you tell me about the 'ministry of magic'.”

“Oh, that's like a British government for magic. The UK's very small, and very close. It doesn't even have any large predators left. It's very controlled in that sense. So the Ministry basically exists to help keep magic undetected to the wider community. Muggles. Vanilla's. Those people.”

“So kind of like the White Council but smaller.”

“Exactly.”

“Are they signatory of the Accords?”

“No. In fact a lot of them don't know about them. It's not part of their school of thought.”

I noted that down too. “All right. Do you know of a guy called Dumbledore?”

“Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class for grand sorcery, famous alchemist, worked with Nicolas Flamel who made the Philosophers Stone, discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood, chief warlock of the wizengamot-”

“Warlock!?” I interrupted.

“Not what you're thinking of.” Bob dismissed. “It's like a law court. That's just what they call them. Told you they were separate from the White Council.”

“Hmm...” I frowned, and noted it down. “I still don't like it.”

“Of course you don't.” Bob rolled his eyes, which was impressive as he didn't actually have any. “Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. All until very recently I believe.”

“What happened recently?”

“He's got in to an argument with a bureaucrat and they decided to spoil his day.” Bob said like he was talking about children in a playground.

I explained the situation to Bob. About how the Council thought Dumbledore might be a Warlock, a proper warlock, not one of these weird law warlocks (though I think warlock might be a perfectly fair term for a lawyer in some cases). I explained how Dumbledore in turn claimed that some Warlock named Tom had returned.

“Tom Riddle?” Bob asked in shock. He whistled. Also impressive without lips. “Now there's a bad 'un.”

“All right, what do you know about him?” I asked, turning a new page on my note book.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, descendent of Slytherin, renamed himself Lord Voldemort. He started a big crusade a while back that magic users are superior to Vanillas, but he took it a step further in that any person that was born from a family of non-magic users, mudbloods he called them, were just as bad. Killed a lot of people.”

“Guy who likes to blow his own horn.”

“Yeah. If he's back I'd get out of his way.” Bob said.

I frowned. I could let Bob out and he'd be able to find out things for me. If I was anywhere else I might have been able to call up Toot's lot to take a look round. But here, I didn't trust Bob around school girls as far as I could throw him. And I didn't exactly have an abundance of pizza and contact information for the local little folk.

“They call him the most dangerous Dark Wizard of all time over here.” Bob explained.

“Yeah well I've crossed with a thing or two that like to call themselves things like that.” I said, frowning. I tapped my pencil on my head as I stared at the paper. “So Dumbledore says Tom's back, and the Ministry says Dumbledore's only saying that to cover his own tracks. Either way there's a powerful warlock walking around which is really just something we don't need right now with the Vampires on stand by to start fighting again.”

I sighed, and lent back in the chair.

“You stepped in to a big one this time, boss.”

“Yeah...” I muttered. He looked to Bob. “One more thing. Why would I need a password for the Bathroom? Cause I really got to pee, and don't know what Pickled Lemons has to do with anything.”

---

Turned out Pickled Lemons were less problematic next to finding the damn place. I ended up walking in circles about 10 times before asking one of the pictures on the wall which pointed to a larger statue just down the hallway from my damn room of a giant heron standing on a rock or something. After standing there, and hearing the pictures laughing at me, one of them finally said “Tell it the password boy!”

One “Pickled Lemon” later, and the heron stepped aside, the rock it was on vanished, and a door appeared behind it in to a god damn pool house.

Like it was huge. The Raiths don't have a bathroom this good. I wanted to skip back to Chicago just to grab someone I know and drag them here to go 'look at this god damn fabulous bathroom'.

As it was I peed and then left to explore the rest of the castle making a mental note to take the best bath of my life ever at some point before I left because there was no way I was passing that up. I bet the water was warm too. I got excited just thinking about it.

Hogwarts, it seemed, was extensively complicated. Not only did the stairs move, but some of the steps were fake, and I fell through about 6 different fake steps on my travels around the school trying to familiarise myself with the place. There were towers, and doors hidden behind portraits, and statues, sometimes things weren't there when I passed them again. The statues moved, the suites of armour moved, there were freaking ghosts passing by which scared the living day lights out of me. I got a rather loud “I SAY!” in return from a ghost as his head flopped to one side.

Sir Nicolas, as it turned out, was actually quite nice and after a few exchanged words he rolled his eyes at me and declared me 'an American' like it was an insult, to which all I had to say was “Y Damn Right!”

He laughed and continued on his way.

I think I like the guy.

The library was pretty fantastic. I stuck my head in to the room and had to force myself not to wander in and get lost. Books upon books upon books, the air thrummed with magic and presence in the same way I pictured the library at the Unseen University. The librarian was not an orang-outang though. Not sure if that was disappointing or not. I tried to make a mental note of where it was promising myself I'd come back if I had some free time in my work and maybe just borrow a few dozen books or something.

There were a lot of classrooms, and a lot of towers. The staircases moved around making it harder to navigate. I passed a few people as I wandered around, most just seemed to glance over me and continue on their way. I got the feeling my presence here wasn't universally hailed as a good thing.

I'd been wandering for about an hour when I was approached by a tallish man with the most fantastic facial hair I had ever seen. He was dressed in long purple robes and he smiled in a good natured manner as he came to a stop.

“Warden Dresden I assume?”

“Err, yeah.” I said. “Hi.”

I stuck out my hand and he took it, shaking it softly.

“Albus Dumbledore.” he smiled. “Head teacher.”

Our eyes didn't quite meet. He gazed past me in the same sort of manner I usually gazed past someone else. I'm sure a soul gaze would be useful to seeing what kind of person he was, but if he was a warlock I'd rather not have his mind scarred in to my permanent memory. We let go and lowered our hands.

“I was hoping to speak to you before the students arrive,” he said softly.

“Yeah. I suppose that's a good place to start.” I agreed. “When are they getting here?”

“The train usually pulls in around 9,” Dumbledore said. “If you will come with me, we can use my office. It's not too far from here.”

“Right.” I nodded, and walked alongside him through the castle. “Do you have a map or something I could use? This castle's really confusing.”

“I suppose it is.” Dumbledore said. “I will see if I can find you something. It would certainly aid your investigation, no doubt, but there are not many complete maps of the castle.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And are there other things that have passwords, or is it just the bathroom?”

“No. Many places do have tricks to getting in to them. For example, getting in to the kitchen one must tickle the pear.”

“Tickle... the pear.. okay.” I mumbled.

“But no one knows the full secrets of the castle I'm afraid, so while I can extend full cooperation to the White Council I am afraid that not even I have the key to everything. Hogwarts, in many ways, has a life of its own.”

I thought of the moving stairs and ghosts, the walking talking portraits. I'd never been in a place so submerged in magic, at least not on the mortal plane. I found myself wondering again if I was on earth, or if I'd entered some strange in between zone that wasn't quite here or there.

He gave a password to the gargoyle. It leapt aside, letting us past, and up the moving stair case.

The office was pretty damn big on the inside, full of sleeping portraits and curious contraptions I didn't recognise but looked very delicate and important.  The kind of stuff they kept around Edinburgh for various reasons, that I only had a vague idea of.

We sat down on either side of the desk and made ourselves comfortable.

“Where shall we begin?” the man asked with an amused smile.

“Well, I suppose with the beginning of all this,” I said, shuffling and getting a note book out my pocket. “This guy being dead and then not?”

The man's face seemed to age slightly, and his smile dipped. He nodded.

“14 years ago the first war came to an end when Lord Voldemort targeted a family. James and Lily Potter, 21 years old at the time, and their one year old son. James was killed instantly. But Lily cast her death curse as a protection to her son. When Lord Voldemort attempted to murder the last member of the family the curse back fired and killed him. But not quite. Almost as if there wasn't enough left of him to die,” he explained. “He has attempted to return on two occasions previously, both times foiled. But last summer events collided and it resulted in his resurrection. One of his followers impersonated a teacher at the school, grooming one of the students, unbeknown to us all, preparing him to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Harry Potter,” I said, scribbling notes down, and occasionally glancing up to observe the man. He seemed sincere, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

The man nodded. “There was a tournament last year. Harry was a competitor in it. The imposter made sure he was in the place to win it, but Harry chose to share the victory with another student from our school. The other student was killed. They intended to kill Harry also but he managed to escape. Since then Lord Voldemort has been laying low, and keeping his presence quiet. Many do not want to think of him as anything other than deceased. But the truth of the matter is very simple. He has returned.”

I nodded, pausing to finish the note before turning the page. I glanced up. “Can you account for your whereabouts on the night?”

“On the night of the resurrection I was with the crowd and the faculty outside the maze that was the final event.”

“And people saw you there?”

“Yes.”

I noted that down. “What about what was going on inside... the maze you said?”

“The final task of the tournament was a maze set up with traps, and creatures. The competitors entered in to the maze and were meant to be the first to the centre where the trophy had been placed. The trophy was a port key, and one of the competitors had had the Imperius Curse cast on them and was taking out the other competitors. Harry, and Cedric reached the cup together.”

“Could this be seen by the crowd?” I asked. “Did they see them go missing?”

“No,” Dumbledore said. “Most of the event was obscured from view.”

Besides the fact that sounded like a terrible event overall, it sounded suspiciously convenient if you were planning something in the middle.

“Who authorised the events?”

“The ministry for magic chose the events, along with the heads of the schools involved.”

“Which would be... yourself?”

“Myself, Madame Olympe Maxime of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Mr Igor Karkaroff of The Durmstrang Institute.”

I noted the names and mentally noted to ask Bob about them.

“Kind of boring for the crowd?”

“I suppose so. But the idea was to test the students.”

“Also pretty easy to cheat.”

“We had people circling the event on brooms to keep an eye on things.”

“But still someone had the Imperius Curse cast on them and two boys were kidnapped out of the middle, and one was murdered.” I pointed out. It was sounding less and less likely all the time. One just replaces the trophy with a port key and no one notices? “I believe there was a murder on the ground as well?”

“The impersonator’s father was one of the officials of the event. He was murdered, and his body transfigured in to a bone and buried it in the forest.”

Which removed one of the officials who could answer for this. If he hadn't been influenced, he had been removed.

“And the impersonator?”

“The dementors kissed him before they could be stopped.”

Which removed another witness.

“So the two head teaches, their schools are on the continent?”

“Igor has disappeared since news of Lord Voldemorts arrival arose.”

Another witness.

I noted all that down, feeling a nervous sensation rise in my stomach. The fact the evidence seemed to be mounting didn't necessarily mean the conclusion I was jumping to was right, and I had to remind myself of that. But still, what sounded more likely, someone was back from the dead, or the man in front of me was a warlock in his own right?

I mean, I'd dealt with necromancers, and body swappers, and all. But it wasn't exactly a common source of magic.

“The boy in question, what did he do over the summer?”

“He was in a safe location, or it was supposed to be safe until dementors were sent after him. Soon after he was relocated to somewhere safer. He will be back at school later today.”

I nodded. “I'd like to talk to him.”

“Of course. But if I might suggest, not tonight.”

It would be quicker to do it tonight, but given the kid was only 15, and he wasn't getting in till 9, I'd probably better let him settle in.

“Will you be joining us for the feast?” Dumbledore asked. My stomach growled, and he chuckled. “I'll make sure there's a chair for you at the staff table. I'll introduce you to the students.”

I nodded, and closed my pad, glancing round the office. I wanted to ask about the portraits and the instruments. But I didn't want to spend more time than necessary around this guy until I knew what was going on, so I pushed myself up. “About that map.”

He nodded and pushed himself up. “Of course.” he pushed himself up and stepped down in to the main part of the office.

“And if you've got a list of the faculty I'd like to see that too.” I suggested.

I stayed back near the pictures, there was a sword in a glass case, a hat on the shelf high above, countless books, and cupboards full of little glass vials that twisted and glittered. He returned and passed me a roll of actual parchment, not paper made to look like parchment, but actual parchment. I took it trying not to gawk at it.

“I hope this will suffice.” He smiled pleasantly, his voice soft and friendly. “If you need access to any of the password protected rooms it should show up on the map. I will have the faculty list sent to you later this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” I said, and put it inside my duster pocket. “See you at the feast then.”

“Good luck with your investigation, Mr Dresden.” Dumbledore said softly. “Perhaps the ministry will listen to the word of the white council.”

I wanted to say if they knew anything about me they probably wouldn't, but I didn't. I just nodded and moved towards the door to leave.

The guy seemed friendly enough, sincere enough. But I'd met enough people who liked to walk me round the block before bashing my head in at the other end. Anyone with something to hide could be charming, and if you did it right no one would ever question your motives. But something didn't quite sit right. There was something here that wasn't in the open yet, and whether or not it was dark magic remained to be seen.

---

I spent my afternoon quizzing Bob on the names I'd gathered. While Madam  Maxime seemed quite a respectable woman, Bob didn't know much about her, so I'd have to do things the old fashioned way. Ivan was more interesting, in former service of Lord Voldemort before switching sides just before the end of the war. Among the names he gave away were Barty Crouch Jr, the man who had been impersonating a teacher throughout last year.

Part of me suspected Ivan was probably dead now, perhaps also a bone lost in the forest, like Crouch Sr.

I wrote out a letter to send to Madam Maxime, and went back to the library to see if they had any records, either in books, or news papers, and tried very hard not to get distracted by all the other things I could have been reading. It was past dark by the time I realised I hadn't eaten since I'd left the states, so packed up my things, and set off back to my room. The faculty list was there when I arrived, a list of teachers and their subjects, and other members of staff, such as the librarian and the school nurse. There was a guy called Hagrid down as grounds keeper and care of magical creatures teacher, but was marked as absent and a temporary staff member called “Professor Grumbbly-Plank” was in his place.

I recognised Professor McGonagle and Umbridge on the list, and filed it away with my research before grabbing my map, staff, and throwing my wardens cloak back on (leaving my duster behind). I moved off, attempting to find the great hall.

I am proud to say I only fell through 3 trick stairs on the way down and so arrived at the hall with minimal bruising.

The hall was pretty fantastic. There were two fire places, one on either side, huge windows filled with ancient stained glass, and all around stone statues of lions, snakes, eagles, and badgers at intermissions. The ceiling couldn't be seen at all behind the glamour of a starless black sky. Candles floated over head, bobbing up and down lazily. I wondered how much magic it took to keep everything in place. I let my wizard senses out feeling for the magic in the air, part of me desperate to open my Sight and look at it just to see how it all worked. But I resisted.

Four long tables ran the full length of the hall. On a small stage at the end was what I guessed was the teachers table. One or two teachers had already arrived. They were talking back and forth about their plans for the new year, and what they'd done over the summer. They glanced at me as I entered and fell quiet. I smiled and half waved, stooping low to try and make myself as unintimidating as possible, which was not easy for a man standing at 6'7”. Wardens were not always a welcome sight, even to those on the white council, and here I was standing in their school. If all was right with the world a school was the last place a warden should have ever been.

I ran my hand through my hair and walked round the side of the hall rather than up the middle, approaching the table, avoiding eye contact the whole time. I noticed a little placard had been placed on the table at the end with 'Dresden' scribbled on it. I picked it up smiling at it, and put the little card in my pocket. I glanced down the table at the teachers looking at me.

“Hi.”

Master of eloquence. That's me.

“Warden Dresden.” A very short man nodded at me. He looked part dwarf or something to that degree, but I couldn't feel the air of a changeling around him so I assume he'd either made his choice or he was just particularly short.

“How long till grubs ups?” I asked, sitting down in the chair. “I'm starving.”

“It shouldn't be long until the train arrived.” The man assured me.

“Thanks.”

We fell in to silence. After a while their conversation continued, in a more hushed tone than it had done before. That was alright, it wasn't like I could contribute. I wasn't part of this. I didn't teach here, and my summer was kind of over shadowed with uncovering conspiracy within the white council which wasn't really something I could talk about.

I glanced round the hall admiring the view, and how I could see nearly everything from up here. I noted how each table seemed to have a colour theme: red and gold, blue and bronze, yellow and black, green and silver. I assumed it represented the four houses Bob had told me about. There were faded designs on the walls of the hall, like it hadn't been decorated since it had been built. The Hogwarts coat of arms sat in stone above the fire place, and in banners hanging from the unseen beams that held up the roof. The columns that separated the windows, had the statues on them, overlooking the hall. The floor was solid stone and had the ware that only thousands of years of students could bring to it. There was wooden panelling up to about head hight on the walls. The whole room was just full of energy and life: a place that had seem Merlin himself come and go. It was pretty fantastic.

Over the next 20 minutes or so more and more teachers began to arrive. Professor Umbridge arrived early and totted up the table. She was the only one to greet me as she passed and took her seat further down the way. Dumbledore arrived just before the students and nodded his head in greeting before taking up the high back golden throne like seat at the centre of the table. I tried not to read too much in to it.

Then, finally, students began to arrive. The door opened and in wandered the first load of them. They fell quiet as they entered the hall and some hugged, before they separated to the tables. They sat close to each other, turning to face each other where they could so they could continue to talk.

The next lot all went to the same table. The ones after that were split primarily between two at opposite ends of the hall. Some had varying age groups, some were very close, some held hands, some were pushing each other around.

Drip by drip the hall filled up with students of varying ages, colours, sizes, ages, dressed in their uniform, black robes and, honest to God, pointed wizard hats. Here and there were a few gaps, where I suspected students that had left the previous year had once sat. Spaces I assumed the newest students would take up, but the youngest year seemed to be missing. Ghosts floated around the room, talking with the students. I spotted the nearly headless guy from earlier sitting at one of the tables talking with some students. I didn't have the best experience with ghosts, but these seemed very much like guardians rather than malicious entities, even if one of them did look like he was covered in blood.

When the students had stopped arriving, and the tables seemed as full as they were going to get, one more teacher arrived from a side door, taking up her seat. The only one left was Professor McGonagall.

Moments later the door at the back of the hall opened, and in walked the woman herself, followed by a herd of small children, huddled together like scared sheep. The Professor was carrying a three legged stool and a very beat up hat. The buzz of talking stopped, all eyes turning towards them. She placed the stool at the front of the hall, in front of the teachers table, and placed the hat on top of it before standing back. Everything was quiet for the longest moment, all eyes turned towards it.

Then it moved.

It moved, a rip near the brim opened, and it spoke.

And apparently I was the only one surprised by this because nobody else jumped, except the occasional first year.

“In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:”

And it went on like that. I stared at it, listening to every word that came out of it, wondering of there was a spirit of intellect living in it, much like Bob, or if it was enchanted to just sing this every year.

It talked about how the school was made, about the different houses, and the property’s that separated them, but also about how they should stand together to face external threat, which was probably good advice, if the threat was external. I glanced up the table at Dumbledore sitting in his chair, and unreadable smile on his face. The hat sang about discord falling among the houses, breaking them apart from inside, and I found myself thinking about the white council, and the black council trying to break it apart from within. I rested my elbows on the table, frowning.

“And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you

Let the Sorting now begin.”

It went still. The hall broke in to applause. I followed along politely, but my eyes where still fixed on the hat, frowning, and thinking through its words. I cast my eyes around the hall seeing people talking again. Looking back to the front I saw Professor McGonagall cast her eyes around the hall in a warning glare. The hall went quiet once more. She opened a scroll, her eyes falling to the paper, and reading aloud.

“Abercrombie, Euan.”

A terrified looking boy stumbled forward. He picked up the hat, sat on the stool, and put it on his head. It almost fell right down over him, if not for his ears sticking out somewhat. There was a moment of silence before the rip in the brim opened again and the hat shouted.

“Gryffindor!”

One of the tables erupted in to loud cheers. The boy got up, leaving the hat behind. He stumbled and staggered towards the table, looking more like he'd like the earth to swallow him than to have one more person acknowledge his existence.

It went on like that. A name called forward, the hat put on their head, and a house selected for them. The table would erupt in to cheers, and the new face would sit among them, filling up the gaps left behind by the previous year. My stomach protested about half way through, saying this was taking far too long. But I ignored it best I could till they got down to the last name.

The final name was “Zeller, Rose” sorted to Hufflepuff. McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool, and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. All eyes turned to him, as McGonagall put the stool and hat in a room to the back of the hall.

“To our newcomers,” said Dumbledore, “welcome. To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

People laughed, and I looked down at the empty plates, wondering what I was supposed to tuck in to. People clapped, Dumbledore sat down and threw his long beard over his shoulder. There was a pause before the food simply appeared on the plates.

I think my eyes nearly fell out of my head with shock. I looked up and round the hall to see it happening below. The kids tucked in to the food, the people around me did. But I hesitated. Food did not simply just appear, not on earth. It had to come from somewhere. Unless this was faerie food in which case, that was not something I wanted to put in to my mouth.

It smelt so good though. There where heaps of every thing I could think of, plates of stake, bowls of mash, fries, pasta, huge jugs of drink, bread, veg, salad, chops, chicken. It all looked so good. There was dessert too, cake, pudding, pie's of every variety. The kids on the tables had no problems. I looked up the table, and the staff where tucking in just fine. That made it alright, right? These people where humans. And it wasn't hurting them, in fact it seemed normal to them so...

I reached out once again with my senses, feeling for magic in the food. There was a residue around it, but not within it, like it had been made somewhere else and simply transported there by magic.

Good enough for me.

I piled three stakes on my plate and covered it in mash and gravy, and tore in to it like the starving man I was. I cast my eyes over the hall as I chewed up my huge mouthful. Nearly Headless Nick on the Gryffindor table had moved down the way to sit with someone else, other ghosts had settled down to find people to talk too.

Harry Potter was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? I cast my eyes down the table trying to pick the kid out, but truth be told I only had the vaguest idea of what he might look like. Black hair, of which there was plenty, glasses, also plenty, and a scar, which I couldn't see from up here. I picked out a few possibilities, but decided to leave it for now. I looked down at the food on my plate.

“So how do you find the school so far Warden Dresden?” said the woman next to me.

I turned to look at her, and swallowed hard, almost choking on the food in my mouth. The woman was the one who'd arrived last. She seemed rather amused at my choking for a moment, before sipping her drink.

I cleared my mouth out and took a gulp of something that tasted like pumpkin out my goblet.

“Erm...” I started. “Well I've only been here since lunch.”

The woman nodded. “But you've never been before have you?”

“No.”

“I studied here as a child, and I fill in for Care of Magical Creatures on occasion.”

I ran that thought down my mental list for a moment.

“Oh! You're Professor Gumbli-Plank, right?”

“Yes.” she nodded.

“Filling in for Professor Hagrid.”

She nodded.

I nodded. “The stairs are awful.”

“You get used to them.” she assured. “The trick is remembering the fake stairs.”

“I think I fell through every single one on my way up and down.” I admitted. “Then they move around too?”

“Timing it right between classes can be very difficult if one isn't careful.” She smiled.

“Are we on earth here?” I asked.

She looked at him. “I'm afraid I don't entirely follow?”

“Like, is this Faerie, or... what?”

She frowned at him. “Sorry, I don't know what you mean.”

“You know, Faerie? Or the Never-never?”

She gave me a bank look.

“They don't teach you that stuff here?”

“Maybe it's an American thing?” she offered. “It might be called something else here.”

“Yeah...” though I knew it wasn't. After all, all members of the white council used it to travel the globe, particularly during the war. I turned back to my dinner. A care of magical creatures teacher that didn't seem to know where said magical creatures came from didn't sound brilliant.

Someone on her other side started talking to her, and she turned away to talk with them. I went back to eating, and observing the hall.

After the stakes, I helped myself to the desserts, the plate seeming to clean its self between courses, probably going back to where ever the food came from in the first place.

Finally when I couldn't eat any more I sat back, feeling more stuffed than I could ever remember feeling, and ready to sleep. I wasn't sure what time my body clock thought it was. Chicago was about four hours behind here, and I'd had to get up pretty early in the morning to make sure I could get here by lunch, traversing the Way, and finding my way to the Surface in Edinburgh.

Watching the hall I saw many of the students where in a similar state. They looked tired, ready to crawl off to sleep. I thought about the bed I had waiting upstairs, and wondered if there where any small and simple wards I could put up on the door, or if I should just put some random objects in the way in the dark to trip people up. The noise level was starting to creep up again, and a movement out the corner of my eye caught my attention. Dumbledore was standing up. The hall went quiet and all eyes turned towards him.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” said Dumbledore. “First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.

“Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list no fastened to Mr Filch's office door.”

For a place that was literally dripping magic at every turn that seemed like a ridiculous rule, but who was I to judge?

“I would like you all to welcome Warden Harry Dresden to our school. He is here to conduct an investigation in to a number of matters, on behalf of the international white council.”

All their eyes turned to me for a moment, a few people clapped. I waved slightly, not entirely sure what else to do.

“We also have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was another round of polite but uninterested applause. He continued.

“Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-”

He broke off. I looked up the table. He was looking to Professor Umbridge, now standing up. She cleared her throat, “Hem, hem.”

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback, like he wasn't used to people interrupting. But he sat down and looked at her expectantly. The other members of staff looked less dignified about the interruption. One woman's eyebrows had disappeared above her hairline. McGonagall's mouth was so thin it was difficult to see.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Umbridge said, her mouth in a wide smile, “for those kind words of welcome.”

She gave another little cough.

“Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” she smiled. “And to see such happy little faces looking up at me.”

I glanced around the hall and wondered for a moment if we where looking at the same thing. The kids looked more annoyed at the interruption. They where tired, and so was I. I felt a small stab of sympathy.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!”

She sounded like she was speaking to preschoolers, not teenagers.

There was another cough, and her tone changed, sounding more like she was addressing a board room this time.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizard to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

She paused, bowing to the staff up and down the table. The staff didn't respond. There was another cough for attention, and she continued.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts had brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation must be struck. And a school is, after all, no place for such carelessness. Marching carelessly onwards without careful planning and testing could just as easily lead to the disaster of a generation, because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practise that ought to be prohibited.”

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff, and myself, followed, though some only brought their hands together once or twice before stopping. I didn't go on too long either, turning my attention to what she'd been trying to say. It was difficult to place it all without the context of the school, and the people in it. “Progress for progress's sake must be discouraged” sounded like a pretty terrible plan of teaching, and sounded like something the white council would get behind.

Not sure I liked this pink lady very much.

I didn't realise Dumbledore had been talking again, but apparently he was done and people where moving and standing up. Teachers where standing to move off, and the food and plates where disappearing. People where talking and shouting “First years follow me!” and vanishing out of the big double doors, probably to go off to bed.

I stood there watching everyone for a while before finding my way out and heading back up towards my bedroom to sleep. I had lots to think abut before the morning.

---

After the amount of food I'd eaten the night before I thought I might never eat again. But by the time the sun arrived in the morning my gut had managed to dissolve what it had been given, and was ready for more. My old Mickey Mouse alarm clock set off at some point in the morning I'd deemed appropriate the night before, and got smacked on the head for disturbing me.

I lay there, bundled up in my warm covers, gazing at the curtains, and thinking about the situation at hand. It was nice to have a job that wasn't immediately going to try and kill me, but it did require a lot of thinking. The 'he said, she said' of it all made a muddled mess when trying to find the truth.

I got up, threw on the first set of clothes that came out my bag, and my duster over the top. I debated the warden cloak for a moment before deciding against it. The familiar weight of the duster was more welcome in the unfamiliar surroundings. The bits and bobs of useful brickerbrack in the pockets felt comforting in my hands. I dropped a notebook and pen in, and set off down in search of coffee.

Despite the jet lag, I felt pretty well rested. I sat down in the seat I'd had the previous night, and started helping myself to the food available. I piled about 4 spoons of sugar in to my cup, and plenty of cream to go with it, gulping down half of it before anything else. I watched the hall slowly fill up, jotting down a sort of plan of action for the day on my pad.

First off I needed to contact some of the other witnesses to the event. Madame Maxime for starters, though I'm not entirely sure where the local post office was supposed to be. I needed to ask the teachers for their take on the situation, their opinions of Dumbledore too. Though, I suppose, if the old man was a warlock he'd have little problem tampering with the minds of key witnesses to smooth over his story. I suppose I'd just have to look for things out of place.

My coffee cup was half way to my mouth when there was an almighty noise. I looked up and nearly dropped the contents in to my lap. Owls. Hundreds of the bloody things where swooping in from windows on the far wall. My hand went for my blasting rod quickly, shaking out my shield bracelet. But then I stopped.

No one else looked concerned about this?!

Then, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to happen, the owls started dropping things on the tables, on the students and teachers. Parcels, and letters, and news papers, magazines. They where all soaking wet, so it must have been raining outside.

Then they just left.

Hells bells Britain was weird.

Letting my heart settle back in to my chest, I sank back in to my seat, looking up the table. One or two of the teachers shook out their news papers. Like the pictures on the wall the photographs on the paper moved. I forced myself to look back to my breakfast.

I guess I'd be sending correspondence by owl then. I'd have to ask someone about that. Then I'd need to find who this Potter kid was, and if I could question him over lunch or a free period or something. Other than that I guess it was just a case of sticking to my research.

While there wasn't exactly a ticking time bomb, I didn't want to dawdle too much. If this Tom guy was back people needed to know soon. If this head teacher was a warlock I didn't want to leave him with access to kids. I kind of wish I'd brought Mouse with me just for the familiarity of his company. Mouse was always good at picking this sort of thing up. But if anyone deserved a holiday right now it was him.

I gulped down the coffee, and heaped bacon and eggs on to my plate. One thing was for sure, it was better than my usual morning meal of 'whatever I had in'. I could get used to it. Wonder how many staff they had in the school? I hadn't seen anyone beside the teachers yet.

I finished up fast as I could and got up to go check some things out. Potter was Gryffindor, and Professor McGonagall was head of that house. So she was probably the person to ask about where he'd be throughout the day. She wasn't at the breakfast table, so I guess I'd try her office, and hope she wasn't in the business of breaking the second law of magic.

The map Dumbledore had given me was woefully incomplete, and did not have the moving stair cases on, or the trick stairs. I arrived at McGonagall's office with more bruises than I'd left the hall with, and knocked lightly.

“Come in.”

I pushed the door open. She sat at her desk, dressed much the same as she had been the other day. She looked over the top of her glasses at me, and I resisted the urge to shrivel in to a small child and hide in the corner like I'd been sent in for detention.

“Warden Dresden,” she said in her unamused tone. “How can I help you?”

“I'm wondering if you have a copy of this Potter boy's time table.”

“Yes?” she said, making no offer to give it to me.

“Well I need to talk to him, and I don't know where he'll be so...”

She fixed her eyes on me and looked to the pile of papers on her desk. She shuffled through them one after another before pulling one out. She took out the wand she'd used yesterday and I could feel the familiar thrum of power through it. She waved it, silently, and the paper that had been in her hand became two. She put one back, and handed the other to me. I reached out, taking it, looking down it. I stuffed it in my pocket with the other things.

“Anything else?” she asked, sharply.

“What's your opinion on Professor Dumbledore?” I asked.

“He is a great man who has done more for the wizarding community on his own than the white council has done in it's entire history.”

Maybe, yeah, but given how useless the White Council was that wasn't a difficult thing to do.

“So you're sure the accusations are false?”

“If Dumbledore says Voldemort is back, he is back.” McGonagall said, matter of factly. “There's nothing else to it.”

I nodded. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“How do I use an owl?”