#hubert prewett makes an entrance
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance part 6
Minerva wished so much that she could call for the other house heads to meet her in her office, but she dutifully ignored the temptation. Let Albus have his surprise, for once. He hadn’t been able to give them such a nice one in absolutely ages. In any case, they all used the time before students arrived to finish planning and perhaps have a nap, fortifying nerves against the onslaught of noise in the Great Hall. The opening feast was not for the faint of heart, especially with so many children whose voices hadn’t yet dropped all screeching over one another.
Sometimes she really wondered at the utility of a great, high-ceilinged space. Wouldn’t smaller, lower-ceilinged dining rooms be more comfortable to one’s hearing? They’d certainly go through fewer headache relievers and nerve tonics. And they was just for the teaching staff. Poor Aurora just couldn’t cope with noise like that.
The castle didn’t lack for space. Minerva felt sure she could wrangle something for those students who hated bellowing at their neighbors. She probably ought to do something about the OWL and NEWT student dormitory arrangements in Gryffindor, as well. How well she remembered feeling as if she’d cheerfully murder everyone in the tower for five minutes of quiet.
Hogwarts could probably manage private study rooms. Did Ravenclaw already have them? She’d have to ask. She knew Slytherin did — Severus could be appallingly smug about the superiority of Slytherin’s dormitory arrangements. She shook her head over that as she arranged tea things on her desk. She might wish for the fortification of a single malt, but tea would have to suffice. They’d gather after dinner and introductions for a digestif and a good gossip over the additions to their houses. She could wait until then.
Bugger it. She’d have to spend a year listening to Pomona bemoaning the staff room after dinner coffee yet again. She never did take one’s suggestion to make it her bloody self. For some reason, the elves who waited on the staff room never learnt to make proper coffee. They had a way with a liqueur and made heavenly tea, but coffee was beyond them.
Sometimes she blamed that odd elf who’d spent some time in the kitchen oh, ages ago now. He’d worked at one of those bizarre Kellogg’s facilities in the states at some point and had Ideas about proper food. Grater, he’d called himself. Poor fellow took it hard when whole grains and no sugar had no appreciable effect on teenage libido. Albus found him a lovely place, though, in that vegetarian rest cure home in Scunthorpe. The quality of coffee took a direct hit with his arrival and never quite recovered.
Minerva startled, sloshing tea into her saucer, at a sharp tapping on the widow. She set the mess down and went to it, opening the owl pane for a ruffled looking bird. It hopped through, fluffed itself to tidy up, and held out an imperious foot. Minerva smiled and took the attached letter.
“Thank you very much. Would you like to rest or were you asked to wait?” She gestured at the perch she kept for visitors.
The owl hooted at her and hopped back out the window by way of answer.
“Well then.” She closed the pane and went to her desk, absently waving her wand at the sloppy teacup to tidy it as she sat.
Dear Deputy Headmistress:
It has come to my attention that a long-lost member of my family is on his way to Hogwarts. His father has fully apprised me of the situation, but I do not wish to wait until the winter holidays to meet the boy. I will arrive tomorrow morning with his father. Please let Hubert and his cousins know to expect my arrival.
Might I have use of an empty classroom? There are family matters which must be discussed immediately. In addition to that, I may take Hubert out of school for a few hours if his wardrobe is not adequate. I have good reason to believe it will not suffice.
I look forward to seeing you again, Professor McGonagall. You were always a delight to have in my class.
If you wish to help an old woman have some fun, you may want to keep my incipient arrival to yourself.
With sincere thanks,
Muriel, Dowager Prewett
Minerva read the letter again. She smiled, slow and feline, and just stopped herself from racing out the door to share the news with Severus. She’d let him know this evening that he could expect some fun upon the morning. He so rarely got to enjoy anything during the school year. Slytherin always had been a house that required a good deal of attention.
---------------------------------------------------
“Will I fit in, dressed as I am?” Granger asked. “We…my parents and I…got the impression that Hogwarts was just a bit more conservative than even the old public schools but the uniform would be all right. Now, though…my clothes certainly don’t look like yours, Bulstrode.”
Bulstrode, Malfoy, and Longbottom shared a look.
“You don’t look like you’re from the magical world, if that’s what you’re asking.” Bulstrode answered carefully, booting Malfoy in the ankle again. “The uniforms were copied from a non-magical school, I believe.”
“I am going to bruise,” Malfoy complained.
“We’ll get you a nice bruise balm when we arrive,” Bulstrode patted his knee. “Magical clothes look different, Granger. If you prefer skirts then they should be longer. Did you purchase the whole uniform or just the closed work robes?”
“Professor McGonagall told us to get the uniform,” Granger said, drawing her brows down. “Should it have been the closed robes?”
“That’s what just about every magical born student will purchase. We’re used to something like that over our other clothes. Do you sew?” Bulstrode sounded thoughtful.
Granger opened her mouth to answer and shut it again at a knock on the compartment door. Ron, who sat closest, slid the door open to reveal a girl on the other side.
“Is Millicent Bul—Mills I’ve been looking simply everywhere for you!” She managed to flounce in place.
Hugh never saw someone manage that before. Not without looking an idiot, anyway.
“Hello, Pansy. Would you like to come in? I think we have room,” Millicent smiled fondly at her.
Everyone shifted at that to make some space. Hugh wondered if the compartments were magic, too, because it seemed like the space grew just enough to accommodate the girl.
“This is Pansy Parkinson. We’ve known each other for ages.” Bulstrode stood to make introductions. “Pansy, this is Ron Weasley, Hugh Prewett, and Hermione Granger. You know Draco. Oh, and Percy Weasley is in the corner pretending he isn’t here.”
“We just found Hugh this morning. If he disappears before we get to Hogwarts my Aunt Muriel might murder me,” Percy explained. “It’s very nice to meet another first year, Miss Parkinson.”
“It’s lovely to meet all of you.” Parkinson sat by Bulstrode. “I am in desperate hope that you’re all inclined to sensible conversation. I’ve been in with Daphne Greengrass, Cecily Gotobed, and Hillary Althorpe and it’s been nothing but split ends and how do my robes look from the back since we sat down.”
“Er, we were discussing Granger’s wardrobe,” Malfoy admitted. “Not how they look from the back, though.”
“Only because I wasn’t born in the magical world and we were told the uniforms would be fine. I’m not so sure now,” Granger added.
“That’s a much more sensible conversation than twittering on about Harry Potter and they hoped he’d be ever so handsome. Wretched. If I were him I would be tutored at home. Well, stand up a moment Granger, please?”
Hugh hid a grin at Parkinson’s brisk tone. He thought he might like her, once he got to know her a bit better. Granger stood and turned about when Parkinson told her to.
“You don’t look tragic, at least,” Parkinson decided, after a moment of quiet. “You know what colors suit, which helps a great deal. Do you think your parents would mind us outfitting you properly?”
“Well…” Granger stopped to think. “I don’t think so. They weren’t entirely sure of the uniforms either, but we hadn’t much time if we wanted to have enough for the book store. It was an extremely busy day.”
“We’ll have to take you around London if it’s bookstores you’re after.” Draco sounded more than a bit excited himself. “You’ll probably adore Hatchard’s. Flourish’s might have told them to have a look out for you. They do that sometimes.”
“Oh, you have Hatchard’s too?” Hermione looked to go off into transports of delight.
“It’s all very exciting, I’m sure. We’ll…we can plan an excursion over the winter holiday.” Pansy cut off further discussion of bookstores. “Does Prewett need some help as well?”
“I reckon Aunt Muriel’s going to visit tomorrow. She’ll do whatever needs done.” Ron smiled at her. “I wouldn’t like to be the one who pipped her to the post.”
“In that case, we can concentrate on Granger.” Pansy produced a thick catalog seemingly from nowhere. “Although it might be a good idea to have a look through, Prewett. That way you’ll know what you’re looking at.”
“Where…” Hugh broke in, staring. Even with all the magic of Diagon, he hadn’t seen anything like that.
“Oh, yes. Mother got me a pocket with expansion charms and places for me to store my ink and quills and everything,” Pansy explained. “I had to beg ever so hard for it but once I convinced Mother that a book bag would make me round-shouldered she gave in. Aunt Aggie approving of it probably made the difference, but I like to think I’m persuasive.”
“I expect those sorts of pockets won’t work with the uniform, will they?” Granger asked.
“Not as they are now, no,” Bulstrode answered. “We could take a pocket off, though, and make it a pocket slit instead if your parents don’t want to re-outfit you. I think I need to ask mother if she’d mind sending me one of those pockets, too.”
“Mother didn’t like it because the pockets are keyed to one person and she’s a snoop. Aunt Aggie said I was due a little privacy in my life so of course mother had to give in.”
“Could anyone get something like that?” Hugh asked, making a note about pockets. “Or is it only for girls? Witches?”
“Witchcraft and Wizardry are magical paths, Prewett, not…sexes.” Longbottom went slowly pink as he spoke. “And there are plenty of folk who wear skirted robes. All kinds of clothes are normal here.”
“So there isn’t really girls’ clothing and boys’ clothing?” Hugh made some notes, frowning.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that?” Longbottom didn’t sound terribly sure of himself. “Er…like you might wear a full-skirted kirtle or houppelande that non-magicals might see as girls’ styles, but you probably wouldn’t wear Granger’s uniform if you were brought up magical. I don’t think there are any hard rules, though. Not that I’ve heard Gran complaining about, anyway.”
“My Aunt Aggie mostly wears suits with trousers because she likes them best. She says clothing divisions are made up nonsense. Once you get out of periods where everyone wore long tunics and things like that it gets murkier. I don’t think I’ve seen any boys dressing like Millicent does, but it isn’t as if there’s a rule.” Pansy tapped her chin with the magazine, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve just had such a good idea!”
“Is it likely to get us all into trouble?” Granger asked.
Bulstrode looked approvingly at her. “Knowing Pansy, yes.”
“I don’t think we’d be breaking any rules…or hardly any. What if Prewett and Granger switched uniforms? They’re about the same size? Please? I never get to be the mastermind of anything fun,” Pansy wheedled.
“I suppose I could say that I was told to get the uniform and no one told me which one,” Hugh spoke slowly, thinking it through. “I was alone for the fitting and I don’t think anyone would remember, really.”
“By the time Madame Malkin got to me everyone else had gone on to wands,” Hermione admitted. “And she only had a few minutes to fit everything before the next group was scheduled. One of the parents in my group asked so many questions that it put everyone behind.”
“Neither of you have to do anything you don’t want to,” Ron spoke decidedly. “It would be funny, but not if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”
Percy snored ostentatiously from his corner.
“Of course we wouldn’t want you doing anything that you’d hate,” Pansy agreed, looking a bit crestfallen. “Only if you think it’s funny.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Hugh said. “It would be a bit funny and it wouldn’t be hurting anyone. Would think me and Granger are taking the mickey about magical culture, though?”
“They likely would,” Malfoy agreed. “People can be terribly sensitive about it, you know? If they see you make an effort and you get it a bit wrong, that’s one thing. You arriving in Granger’s uniform before they know you won’t make a good first impression.”
“Well, we can forget my brilliant idea, then.” Pansy flopped onto Millicent’s shoulder.
“What about just Granger in trousers?” Hugh asked. “Me in a skirt might put them out, but what about Granger wearing an extra pair of my trousers?”
“No one said I had to wear a skirt,” Granger said. “I just asked for the Hogwarts uniform and they gave me one.”
“Would you mind wearing trousers?” Malfoy asked. “And do sit up, Pansy. We can think about it for Guy Fawkes’ or something like that. Perhaps the Feast of All Fools would be better?”
“Alright.” Pansy straightened up. “I’m sure we can come up with a better plan before either of those days. Something really sensational!”
“Right, so I’ll wear Prewett’s extra pair of trousers and—”
“Granger, if you’re going to wear my clothes you could probably call me Hugh,” he interrupted. “And if we’re going to be scheming together, then we should all be on a first name basis.”
“Dunno what our dads are going to say about it, Draco, but I think I’d like it.” Ron stood and offered his hand to Draco, swaying with the movement of the train.
“I said I wanted to be my own person,” Draco reminded himself. He stood and took Ron’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ron. I intend to be quite a different person from my father.”
“This is all very nice, but could someone please explain about the branches of magic? We can dissect my wardrobe later,” Hermione pleaded with the compartment in general. “That information wasn’t anywhere I looked!”
#hubert prewett makes an entrance#hp society/the ton#hp the season au#hp the season/the ton au#harry potter#minerva mcgonagall
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance pt. 5
"I would love to hear it!" Hermione's eyes lit with excitement. "I could hardly find anything in the history section that gave a comprehensive view."
"Perhaps Malfoy would tell it better?" Neville hedged. "I'll probably forget half of it."
"Malfoy," Malfoy began. "Would like to hear it from a different perspective. I've only ever heard my father tell the tale."
"Oh, well." Neville took a deep breath. "In the middle of the fifteenth century, what had once been tolerated became anathema. Witches, they said, went among them. They were right, to a point. Magicals had existed happily alongside non-magicals for centuries. Even adopting Christianity hadn't caused much of a problem. The early church was more…mystical, I suppose, and saw real magic as a gift.
Then the printing press came, followed by other machines and things. It may have been progress of a sort, but the relentless march toward modernity narrowed their world-view. Magic, once a mystery, a miracle, became something to fear.
The fear turned to hate. Slowly at first, so slowly that the magical community didn't notice, witch hunts started. They rarely caught an actual magical. Most of the people tortured and…and…and murdered weren't like us. They didn't have magic—they had land or they'd annoyed the people in charge or they weren't the right religion according to the religion in charge. That made them witches.
When neighbor after neighbor was taken for questioning, tortured, and hanged, the magical community knew they had to act. They had to remove themselves from the non-magical world. They couldn't stand by and watch people they cared for dragged off and…I don't want to describe what was done to them." Neville broke off.
"You don't have to." Ron told him. "Er, it's a rule at home. You don't have to talk about, er, upsetting things and no one can make fun of you. It mostly works."
"I cannot imagine," Draco butted in. "Having such terrible manners that one would jest about another's discomfort."
"You haven't met Fred and George yet." Ron sighed. "They…well, mum says they mean well."
"And I hope I won't meet them." Draco sniffed.
"Anyway, Nev, go on. You can leave out the bits you don't like." Ron prompted.
"It's interesting." Hugh agreed.
"Well, once they realized what was happening, they started to plan. It was local, at first, but many different groups came to the same decision. The first meeting to discuss what should be done was the start of the ICW. It took almost two centuries to prepare, first to figure out how to remove us and then to get ready for such an undertaking. What happened was the greatest of the Great Workings. For nine days and nine nights in 1692, magicals across the globe joined in. Er, I'm not sure of the details, but I think it involved a lot of charm work and runes. And probably arithmancy. At the end, though, the magicals made a perfect copy of the existing world and moved there.
Since then, we've largely stayed out of non-magical life. There are some problems that crop up, but Ron would know more about that. And…that's how the Great Working happened." Neville looked happy he'd finished.
"And now I know what to call it so I can find more information!" Granger exclaimed. "Thank you, Longbottom."
"You're welcome." He mumbled.
"That was very interesting, Longbottom, thank you." Draco said. "I think I'll join Granger in looking for more information."
"But the copy," Granger started, her eyebrows drawn down. "That's what we're in now, right?"
"You go through the barrier at nine and three-quarters." Bulstrode explained. "There's entry points throughout both worlds."
"But…if it was copied in the late seventeenth century, how are there trains?" Granger gestured to their snug compartment.
"Oh, we've updated since then. Every so often something really brilliant comes along—like the turnpike or trains—and we have another Great Working to update. Some have done smaller ones for indoor plumbing. It only gets tricky working out what can't be replaced." Ron explained. "Dad said non-magical London's changed a lot even since he was young."
"So…you do realize that this makes very little sense?" Granger huffed. "Why wouldn't you…I don't know…develop different things? Why trains? Why not aeroplanes?"
"Skylanes are for broom travel and portkeys." Malfoy said in the tone of someone who had heard it thousands of times and would probably need to hear it a thousand more. "Even though air travel looks tremendously exciting."
"Trains work pretty well with magic, too. We could probably get aeroplanes to work, but I don't think we could get anything like the size of non-magical ones." Bulstrode looked thoughtful. "Perhaps as a novelty? We have so many different ways to travel. I don't think they make sense any other way."
"There is that." Malfoy sighed. "Why sit in a tube hurtling through the air when a portkey is faster? And port-tunnels mean you can get on a train in London and off a train in…oh, I don't know…somewhere in the Americas. Or there's ocean liners, but those are a good bit slower than a portkey or a train."
"My gran." Longbottom started and then stopped abruptly when everyone looked to him.
"Go on, Nev." Ron encouraged him.
"Er, she likes boat travel better. Says she doesn't understand why we're all rushing about all the time now and port-tunnels are newfangled nonsense."
"Mother thinks taking an ocean liner is more dignified." Malfoy agreed. "I never thought she'd agree with Dowager Longbottom on anything."
Neville shook his head slowly, grinning. "I'll have to tell gran. Maybe she'll sponsor an aeroplane, Malfoy."
"Dad likes the convenience of port-tunnels. He's home more now, too." Bulstrode put in.
"Are there books that explain about all these things?" Hugh asked. "I tried to look, but we didn't have much time for shopping."
"I'll ask mother to look." Bulstrode promised. "She had a knack for finding things."
"Is it politics, why your Gran and Malfoy's mother wouldn't agree?" Granger asked suddenly.
"Mostly." Malfoy answered while Longbottom said "Oh, yes "
"It's like that here, too?" Hermione looked despondent. "Only I've lost friends because my parents are very loudly Not Tories."
"It depends." Longbottom tried. "Some don't particularly care, but some do, very much."
"And your Gran cares?"
"Not as much as my parents." Malfoy answered the question. "I expect mother and father will be put out once they discover who I sat with, but mother's the one who gave me a book all about developing your own personal moral code. If she didn't want me doing just that, she oughtn't have given me a copy."
"Gran keeps telling me to have my own views about things and then tells me that they aren't the right ones. I just don't tell her much now." Longbottom shrugged.
"Er…well, they can't be much worse than my non-magical relatives." Hugh gripped his notebook hard to keep his hands from shaking. "They didn't like anything they thought was weird…and…well…"
"Yes." Malfoy agreed. "I'd imagine they would find accidental magic…er, distressing?"
"My parents thought they might need to get a priest in and they don't even go to any kind of church." Granger bit back a giggle. "Daddy saw me levitate out of my crib."
"You're unchurched?" Longbottom asked. "I don't think I've ever met someone unchurched before."
"Really?" Granger pounced on that bit of information like a terrier after a rat. "Does everyone go to some kind of religious service?"
"I don't know." Longbottom shrugged. "Even if they don't believe people tend to turn out for Sunday service where I live, but that might be fear of Gran more than a deep belief. Gran thinks it's scandalous the way some carry on these days. She says Sunday observance might do them some good."
"I don't think every religion has compulsory service attendance." Bulstrode mused. "Some of my cousins are Jewish and they don't have to go to a service every week."
"My family has been Celtic Rite Catholic since there was such a thing. Well, there may be a few Romans in the past, but once we came to England it was the Celtic Rite for us. Imagine going to Mass in a building? With anything not nailed down gilded." Malfoy shook his head in disbelief. "It's a bit nippy in January, though, even with warming charms."
"We're CoE." Ron butted in. "Mum likes the plainer service."
"This is so interesting!" Granger enthused. "If…no. It's probably a silly question."
"What is it, Granger?" Hugh prompted. He doubted she'd have a silly question.
"Yes, do ask, Granger. We can't judge whether or not it's silly unless you do. Ow! Why are you kicking me, Bulstrode?" Malfoy reached down to rub his ankle in affronted silence.
"You're being insufferable again. I told you I'd boot you in the ankle if you were. In any case, Granger, please tell us." Bulstrode smiled at the other girl.
"Well," Granger hedged. "If we can't find a book or books explaining all of these things…could we write them down, together, as things come up? Maybe…maybe when we're older we could publish it. For…for new students like Hugh and me who didn't grow up in this world."
"Don't see why we can't." Ron considered the question. "Don't know why it hasn't been done."
"I think it would be better, even if there's something like out there, because it's people who grew up magical and people who didn't writing it together." Longbottom spoke decidedly.
"It can be our project." Bulstrode added. "Dad said that you should always get your schoolwork done so you aren't falling behind, but you should also have personal projects. Something about being well-rounded. I believe he raised silkworms and learned to spin and weave."
"And," Malfoy clearly didn't want to be left out. "We'll make sure we find out the why of things. You can't write a good guide without that."
Percy smiled behind his book and slid a notebook into Hugh's lap while the others were distracted.
"I have a notebook for it." Hugh grinned. "We can start now."
#hp society/the ton#hp the season au#hp the season/the ton au#hubert prewett makes an entrance#harry potter aus#harry potter#neville longbottom#draco malfoy#hermione granger#millicent bulstrode#percy weasley#ron weasley
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Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom speak like they're in the middle of a generally accurate period novel, only the period wanders like a drunken spider. Neville, though, does it with a very broad Lancashire accent which distresses his grandmother greatly. Draco has a habit of making very pretty speeches.
Millicent Bulstrode sounds like a Very Sensible Girl from the 1920s. One expects her to tell people to buck up. Or to pull their socks up and get on with it. She's a born manager.
Harry (now Hugh) and Hermione are trying very hard to keep up. Hermione, at least, has the benefit of having read a lot of Jane Austen and watched a good bit of the BBC costume dramas.
And Ron is being very solidly Ron. If he calls himself 'common as muck' one more time, though, Draco will have a complete breakdown.
Percy is trying not to pull something vital while suppressing what he suspects would be a laughing fit that would very much injure certain dignified persons in all their finer feelings.
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
Part 3
Hugh turned a page and noted down a few more questions. He couldn't quite believe his morning just yet, not even with the sun high up in the sky. Ever since Hagrid found him on the floor of that hut, his life had taken on a strange sort of…of…he didn't even have a word for it. Nothing really felt real anymore. Not the wand in his pocket (no matter how it warmed and hummed in his hand) nor the robes in his trunk.
Except being Hubert Prewett Junior. That had a solid kind of reality to it, like getting your hands deep into the soft dirt in the spring. Ron and Percy felt like that, real and solid and sensible.
A soft knock on the door startled Hugh from his thoughts. He looked over at Ron and then moved to the door. He supposed they'd see how good the disguise was. It slid open at his touch, revealing two girls and two boys on the other side.
"Er, hullo. Can we help you?" Hugh asked.
"Good afternoon." The pointy blond boy spoke in an accent Hugh only ever heard in very old recordings of the royal family and he wore clothes that looked as if they came from the BBC costume department. "Has anyone seen a toad, perchance? I'm afraid Longbottom's rather got away from him."
At that moment, something whizzed over their heads and landed on Percy's chest. He blinked muzzily and deposited it in the seat next to him, staring down at it in puzzlement. Hugh had never seen someone wake so calmly.
"Trevor!" The other boy, Longbottom Hugh presumed, lit up at the sight of his toad.
"And here I'd prepared a lovely ticking off for the twins. This will hold until Professor McGonagall can help." Percy smiled at them and pulled a Bertie Bott's box out of the rubbish bin he'd transfigured. Two taps of his wand and a terrarium sat where the box once was, complete with carrying strap. He settled Trevor into it and handed the whole thing over.
Longbottom stared at it, mouth open. "Thank you!"
"It doesn't do to let your toad wander like that." Percy scolded gently. "Now, why don't you lot come in and get acquainted. You're all first years?"
"Yes, we are. I am Draco Malfoy, Heir of House Malfoy." The pointy blond introduced himself.
"I'm Hubert Prewett. It's nice to meet you." Maybe, just maybe he could have family and friends.
"Er, Weasley. Ron Weasley." Ron, for some reason, looked horribly uncomfortable.
"Are…terribly sorry but do shift yourself Malfoy…are you related to Muriel Prewett? The Muriel Prewett who wrote A Young Magical's Guide to Manners and Morals?" A tall girl pushed into the compartment, forcing Malfoy to sit down or be squashed.
"Oh, yes. That would be our Great Aunt Muriel and your great grandmother, Hugh. We only just discovered Hugh this morning." Percy explained.
Longbottom, the tall girl, and Malfoy all went wide-eyed at that.
"Really?" Malfoy squeaked before he remembered his composure. "Er, well, that's…that's just splendid, really. And, allow me to introduce Millicent Bulstrode and Hermione Granger."
"And you were helping Nev find his toad? Good summer, Nev?" Ron asked as everyone shuffled in and sat. Granger proved to be a small girl with extremely bushy hair. Percy retired behind his book.
"Gran gave me the run of a greenhouse." Longbottom grinned. "It was grand."
"Well, I came upon Neville first and then we met Malfoy and Bulstrode coming out of a compartment. They know more people than I do and they've been ever so helpful." Granger explained.
"And we heard a Prewett might be on the train." Malfoy looked a bit abashed at his admission. "Her book changed my life."
"Mother bought me a copy and it's been wonderfully helpful." Bulstrode didn't gush; her frank admiration went a long way for Hugh. "I had a horrible habit of slouching and mumbling before I read it."
"And I wanted nothing more than to be a pattern card of my father. Thankfully, mother intervened before the situation became dire. She caught me practicing sneering and telling people my father would hear of it in a mirror. Apparently, one way to be thought a dead bore, even at eleven, is to constantly invoke one's parents." Malfoy flushed but bore everyone laughing a bit with good grace.
"I didn't even know books like that existed. I asked in Flourish and Blott's, of course, but they just ignored me." Granger bristled at the injustice of it.
"I'm sure Aunt Muriel will visit the school tomorrow to meet Hugh." Ron started, awkward and fumbling a bit. "Maybe we can get a note to her asking to bring a copy?"
"I'm positive she's like nothing better." Percy promised from behind his book. "And I think she'd like to sign copies, as well. She does like to know she's been helpful."
"That would be brilliant, thank you!" Millicent answered as Malfoy seemed robbed of speech.
"I didn't know how different everything was." Hermione admitted. "I even introduced myself as Hermione, without giving my last name first."
"They should have told you, you know." Neville spoke quietly. "It's terribly rude when you know someone's just joined our world to keep that from them. Says more about their manners than yours, Miss Granger."
"Is it such a different world? People dressed differently in Diagon Alley, but so many things seemed the same?" Hugh couldn't help the question.
"Did you go in and out through the Leaky?" Bulstrode asked.
"Isn't that the way?" Granger drew her eyebrows together. "Professor McGonagall said that was how to get there."
"I do wish," Malfoy began peevishly. "That such estimable persons as Professor McGonagall would not be such…such…"
"Ninnyhammers?" Bulstrode supplied. "Lackwits? Twits?"
"Oh, don't be so dashed ready with rudeness, Bulstrode!" Draco dashed a hand against his thigh. "But yes, you're entirely correct. I suppose, if one wished to be charitable, one might suggest that they were trying not to overwhelm those new to the magical realm."
"I'm not trying to be…slow." Granger began carefully. "But are you saying that we're in a different…world?"
"Oh yes." Malfoy answered airily. "About 7 inches to the left of the non-magical world. Causes no end of problems when you have someone from a squib lineage buying a home and they can just make out old Carstairs slipping off to the kitchen for a midnight nibble. We have strengthened the borders, though, so that shouldn't happen. Much."
"But how?" Granger wailed.
Hugh hid a smile behind his hand. Poor Granger looked like one of those scientific types who didn't like wooly answers.
"Er, Granger, magic?" Bulstrode answered as Longbottom patted Granger's hand sympathetically.
"It was a Great Working." Longbottom explained. "I can tell the tale if you'd like?"
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
Part 4
"Minerva, could you step up to my office, please?" Dumbledore's patronus interrupted her in the middle of organizing the 6th year NEWT syllabus.
She sighed and set down her work, smoothing both dress and hair before leaving her office. He'd be on her last nerve before she knew it if she didn't go. She threw a pinch of Floo powder into her fire and stepped through after saying "Headmaster's office."
Minerva stepped out again to Albus in deep thought. His office glittered in the late afternoon sun, the lowering rays catching all the whirling trinkets.
"Thank you, Minerva. I know you're busy today and I appreciate you coming up. I've had an idea and I'd appreciate your opinion. Also, I owe you in particular an apology." He came around the desk as he spoke and pulled a comfortable chair up for her.
Minerva sank into the seat. Apologize? Albus Dumbledore? Generally he felt an airy 'terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, my dear' to suffice. She watched carefully as he sat in the other chair and not behind his desk.
"I've been remiss in my duties as Headmaster, my dear, and that work has fallen on your shoulders for years. I am so very sorry to have so burdened you. It was brought home to me this very morning when all I could think was that Harry Potter needed to handle the attention for the well-being of others. An eleven-year-old boy. He ought only to worry about his marks and if he was caught in some mischief."
"Thank you, Albus." She answered stiffly. She knew he hadn't liked hiding Harry as Hugh.
"And that made me realize how very absent I've been for so long. I won't neglect the school in such a shocking way again. We keep telling students about unity and seeing past the surface of the Houses, but we also keep students so partitioned. I know we can't make changes for all the students immediately, not with term starting on Monday, but perhaps we could try an experiment with the first years?"
She hadn't seen him so interested in running Hogwarts in, well, nearly two decades. He leaned forward, looking younger than he had in some time.
"I suppose it depends entirely on the experiment."
"I thought we might split them into cohorts across the Houses. Instead of having Gryffindor and Slytherin or Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, all four houses would be in each class. I believe we could keep the current class slots, but mix the students more." His eyes sparkled. "We can't teach them that they're stronger united if we never unite them."
"Would they keep the same cohort all seven years?" Minerva could see the benefit of such a plan. She and Severus had long hoped for classes with some buffer between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
"At least through OWLs, I think. NEWT coursework becomes so specialized and the class sizes shrink. Shall we sort out cohorts tomorrow morning?"
"Yes. If we keep the class slots as we've worked them out, I don't see a problem with it."
"And the idea of separating students too much brings me to another plan, although I don't believe we'll be able to implement it immediately."
He felt like the Albus she'd known years ago when she first began teaching - engaged with and interested in student welfare. Before Voldemort, before all of it, he'd been such a passionate educator.
"What have you been dreaming up now?" She let herself smile, finally. This. This excitement, the change, sharing ideas…she'd become a teacher for this.
"We've had any number of complaints over the years from children with friends in different houses that there's nowhere for them to go. I thought we could use some of the empty rooms on the first floor. Hogwarts has already created two very large rooms for us. One could be for quiet but not silent group study and one could be for socialization. We'll have to start the hiring process for proctors now -- my dear, whatever is the matter?"
"Albus, the budget! It's all very well to have the space, but can we hire?"
"I have spent this week past combing the budget. We are quite solvent, I assure you. We can hire four for the new project and four assistants for my house Heads, beside. You all work much too hard."
"And the Board?" However generous Albus wished to be, the clutchfisted Board liked to flex their power.
"I think we shall use the discretionary budget for this. That I control and we've barely touched it in a decade. Gringotts has managed it capitally and we have a healthy fund to draw on. I will speak to the Board about hiring a new History professor, though. It's high time Binns' classroom became a relic of our past. I have hope that charting the abysmal History OWLs and NEWTs scores over the past twenty years will be the impetus we need for change. That and that even the most genteel and properly educated students have trouble describing the Great Workings of history. Perhaps if I point out that the only student conversant in actual magical history seems to be Percival Weasley? Might get them thinking, in any case."
Minerva stared, blinking.
"Are you quite well, my dear?" He smiled gently.
"Who are you and what have you done with the Albus of the last twenty years?" She finally managed.
"I put him back in the cupboard where he ought to have stayed. I've been sadly wrongheaded, Minerva. I only hope that the staff can forgive an old man too bogged down in the ghosts of the past. I'll answer the call, if there is one in the future, but for now we must focus on our students." He patted her hand. "Do you think my ideas will work?"
"I…yes, Albus. I think they'll do very well. Once we can sort out space for students to meet across the Houses, I'm sure we'll receive fewer complaints." She rose and headed for the fireplace. An hour or two of quiet would set her right again, she was sure of it.
"Except, of course, for Mr. Ponsonby's campaign to introduce packaged breakfast cereal to our tables." His eyes twinkled.
"Well, I'm sure that I'm happy you find it entertaining!" She bit back and exited his office to his merry laughter.
#hubert prewett makes an entrance#minerva mcgonagall#albus dumbledore#augustus ponsonby's long-running campaign to bring packaged brrakfast cereal to hogwarts#educational reform#and breakfast cereal#to correct the typo#dreamwidth
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For the Snapedom AU ask game! (...I am strongly resisting asking all of the questions on the list), I'd love to hear you talk about 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 11, and 27 especially!
1.) Do you have a name and/or a tag and/or a master post for your AU (so I can peruse your blog and admire your creativity)?
(I know you have the big Ton/Society AU, but that has multiple different renditions (as in, “Poshest Bedstead” is distinct from “The Problems with Ritual Magic”), right? Is the new one “Into the Fire” or “Moment of Reckoning”?)
2.) What is the premise of your AU (one sentence summary, tropes, your big “What-if” question, etc.!)?
6.) Is there any part of the canon narrative you really like to build off of or interrogate with your AU?
7.) Are there themes or motifs or specific concepts in your AU that you hope people will notice? (Do you want to give hints about your masterful foreshadowing or chat about your extensive world building? Should we all grab a floriography dictionary when flowers are mentioned?)
9.) How and why does your AU!Snape(s) differ from the canon!Snape?
11.) Do you know if Severus going to escape the gravitational pull of the canon narrative/fate in your AU?
27.) Do you have a snippet of prose (or an art piece or a list of headcanons) from your AU that you particularly enjoy and want to share?
These were so much fun to answer! Thank you for asking, @momo-t-daye !
1.) Do you have a name and/or a tag and/or a master post for your AU (so I can peruse your blog and admire your creativity)?
(I know you have the big Ton/Society AU, but that has multiple different renditions (as in, “Poshest Bedstead” is distinct from “The Problems with Ritual Magic”), right? Is the new one “Into the Fire” or “Moment of Reckoning”?)
I do have a master post (which I regularly forget to update because I’m a gremlin). It’s here: https://www.tumblr.com/wellpresseddaisy/672673205940568064/
The overarching world is the Ton/Society AU with different stories or series within it that explore different themes, what ifs, etc. The main standalone works in it right now are:
• The Poshest Bedstead in Islington
• The Problems with Ritual Magic
• Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
• Use Any Means
The new series within the world is Into the Fire, which currently has:
• That Moment of Reckoning (first part of the series)
• My Soul Revive (the last part of the series)
Just about everything is tagged with the title of the work for findability.
2.) What is the premise of your AU (one sentence summary, tropes, your big “What-if” question, etc.!)?
What if the magical world was completely separate from ours and still operated along the lines of Society past?
6.) Is there any part of the canon narrative you really like to build off of or interrogate with your AU?
We never get a good explanation of just what Pureblood Society is and why change is such a problem. Honestly, it reminds me so much of the upper class English worries in the late Edwardian through interwar period when society really did change that I draw a lot on those periods for inspiration. Ditto what exactly is the Wizarding/Magical World in general? How does this society work? What makes it tick? Why would so many people flock to Voldemort? Twice?
How do they get goods to market? Who makes the boots?
I like to play with all those questions. It also lets me force Harry to learn the Quadrille, so that’s fun too. :)
7.) Are there themes or motifs or specific concepts in your AU that you hope people will notice? (Do you want to give hints about your masterful foreshadowing or chat about your extensive world building? Should we all grab a floriography dictionary when flowers are mentioned?)
There’s the world building that’s always fun to talk about.
At the base of it, I write a lot about the finding places where you belong and the people with whom you belong. It’s about finding home and safety and finding yourself when you get there.
(And historic clothing. There’s a lot of historic clothing styles. And hats.)
9.) How and why does your AU!Snape(s) differ from the canon!Snape?
My AU!Snape is probably softer than canon!Snape. I tend to write him as an exhausted and overextended thirty-something who mostly wants a nap and a sabbatical.
He is very, very Done With Everything.
I really wish we got Snape as a POV character in HP. It would make writing him a bit easier. I like my Snape, though.
11.) Do you know if Severus going to escape the gravitational pull of the canon narrative/fate in your AU?
Oh, absolutely, and in a variety of ways that are highly entertaining for me to write. So far he’s lost his mark through pulling an alternate universe Tom Riddle in via a botched ritual and the Black family magic objecting to its existence on his arm. Oh, also baby Draco not wanting to share his godfather. :)
He's going to get to be a grumpy old man.
27.) Do you have a snippet of prose (or an art piece or a list of headcanons) from your AU that you particularly enjoy and want to share?
General headcanons:
• Due to the long lifespan of most magical folk, large families in multigenerational households are completely normal. Some families think the Weasleys aren’t trying hard enough. Molly points to the twins and asks if they’d like more like them, perhaps? That usually shuts people right up.
• There are fewer people in the magical world than there should be due to the devastation of two wars with Voldemort preceeded by the war with Grindelwald and at least one dragon pox outbreak.
• The Ministry is actually having a staffing crisis, which is why they’ll hire right out of Hogwarts. They lost too many dedicated employees during the first Voldemort war.
• An entire magical university and college system exists. Most students from Hogwarts go on to higher education, even if it’s just to make connections.
• Other magical schools also exist worldwide. There are even some floating schools for children who would like to spend their time at sea.
Weasley headcanons! The Weasleys are such a favorite of mine that I love thinking about their backstory.
• The previous Weasley Paterfamilias were terrible at handling money and even worse gamblers. The land and house stayed together because of an entailment and Family Pride, but they’d lived on credit for generations. When Arthur’s father died he discovered the depth of the debt hole he’d been left. He could have passed it to the next generation, of course, but he and Molly got to work to pay it off. They sold the manor house (to the Malfoys) but kept the land. They leased the farther fields and kept the demense lands and farm (including orchards). Molly has managed to feed the family off the farm and makes anything she can to sell (cider, jams, pickles, preserves, blackberry wine, eggs, cheese, etc.). Basically any money not absolutely necessary to feeding and clothing the family goes to The Debt. This is also why Molly hates gambling with such a passion.
• Arthur honestly prefers their quieter country life to how he grew up. He likes puttering in his shed and growing chrysanthemums and tinkering with machinery. He also enjoys the rush he gets from his job on some occasions.
• At one time the Weasleys and the Malfoys were extremely close friends. Arthur is a bit older than Lucius and wound up keeping an eye on the younger ones at many gatherings. When Arthur sorted Gryffindor, Lucius was gutted and vowed eternal enmity (Malfoys have long been known for their dramatic tendencies…it’s the French blood, you see). Despite Arthur trying to explain that sortings didn’t really matter at all, Lucius would not be swayed. This began a Blood Feud (mostly kept up by Lucius and Draco because Narcissa thought it ridiculous).
• Molly grew up among the county squirearchy as a daughter of a cadet branch of House Prewett. They were a solid and respectable family, known for their tidy farming and excellent ciders. The main Prewett family owns and operates an extensive tree farm. They specialize in wand and broom wood, with some land given over to cultivation of wood for other uses like building and firewood.
#answered asks#hp society/the ton#hp the season au#hp the season/the ton au#severus snape#the weasleys
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Fic Writer Meme
Tagged by @cedarboots. Thank you!
AO3 Name: wellpresseddaisy
Fandoms: Harry Potter, primarily. In the past, I wrote for Star Wars (prequels), Grimm, Chuck, Jeeves and Wooster, Firefly, and Blue Bloods
Number of works: 31
Work I spent the most time on: The overarching Harry Potter The Season AU. It's been really interesting working on it.
Work I spent the least time on: Bath time, Interrupted was probably the one I spent the least amount of time on. It’s also under 600 words.
Longest fic: Long Ago (and far away) at 61,195 words
Shortest fic: Bathtime, Interrupted at 563 words
Most hits: The Poshest Bedstead in Islington at 5,694
Most kudos: Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance at 450
Total word count: 305,965
Favorite work of my own: The Problems with Ritual Magic
Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Use Any Means and The Problems with Ritual Magic those are the...okay, and Letters from Petunia and Hubert Prewett and I have clearly overextended myself on fiction. Oh, also Poshest Bedstead.
Share a bit of a WIP:
From Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance, not yet posted
…They’d gather after dinner and introductions for a digestif and a good gossip over the additions to their houses.
Bugger it. She’d have to spend a year listening to Pomona bemoaning the staff room after dinner coffee yet again. She never did take one’s suggestion to make it her bloody self. For some reason, the elves who waited on the staff room never learnt to make proper coffee. They had a way with a liqueur and made heavenly tea, but coffee was beyond them.
Sometimes she blamed that odd elf who’d spent some time in the kitchen oh, ages ago now. He’d worked at one of those bizarre Kellogg’s facilities in the states at some point and had Ideas about proper food. Grater, he’d called himself. Poor fellow took it hard when whole grains and no sugar had no appreciable effect on teenage libido. Albus found him a lovely place, though, in that vegetarian rest cure home in Scunthorpe. The quality of coffee took a direct hit with his arrival and never quite recovered.
Tagging anyone who would like to play. :)
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An updated pinned post with links to help with navigation.
Works in Progress
The Society/Ton AU
Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Letters from Petunia (and Dudley)
Part 1, Part 2, Dudley Interlude, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
The Poshest Bedstead in Islington
(The super posh Severus and Sirius being snarky posh arseholes to each other one)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 5a, Part 6, Part 7, Part 7a, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
Poshest Bedstead Notes
Notes on Sirius, Floorplan, Clothes for Hermione
The Ton/Society AU meta
(This will show up conceptually in a bunch of the WIPs)
The genesis , Voldemort, Some Fashion, Severus Snape, The Malfoys, More Notes, Fancy Lucius, Ron Saves the Day
Manners Maketh Man...Er...Wizard...Er...Magical
Part 1
Use Any Means
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
Those Cunning Folk
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Long Ago (and far away)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24
General HP AU
The Cokeworth Lost Baggage Department
Part 1, Part 2
AU Ideas
Edwina and her family
Eglantine as an adult
Teenage Eglantine
The 1983 Slytherin 7th years
Molly Weasley rewrites 1000 Ways to Please Your Husband (and the sequel) and has runaway success.
Hearth and Hope
Genesis , More bits and bobs
#works in progress#au ideas#Harry Potter fic ideas#Harry Potter aus#Hubert Prewett makes an entrance#Letters from petunia#letters from petunia#The Cokeworth Lost Baggage Department#the poshest bedstead in islington#HP the ton/society#use any means#long ago and far away#those cunning folk
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
Pt. 2
He'd been so excited once, by having the best and brightest minds leading the children of their world into the excitement of learning and research and experimentation. He watched with wonder as so many grew into their great and wonderful potential. It was...awesome in the most literal sense of the word. He was filled with a sense of profound awe when he stopped to consider who they'd launched to traverse the vast sea of life. From shopkeepers to the Minister, all had once trod Hogwarts' halls and added their wild magic to her ambient hum.
Dear Cornelius seemed like a madly dinging bouy in that view, tossed hither and thither by the storms of politics. He simply wasn't suited for a life of academic rigour. He worked damned hard, though, couldn't ever fault him for that. Lucius Malfoy was certainly one of those sleek pleasure barges. And Severus...hmm...a gunboat, really, always ready to stand in defense of either himself or one of his students.
He came back to himself when Minerva's question registered.
"I beg pardon?"
"We're working out the combination of spells needed to hide Mr. Potter's true identity. The current plan is to combine a geas restraining all who have met him as Harry Potter from revealing that with a Fidelius to protect his true identity. Perhaps a runic array combined with a properly worded geas and..."
Perhaps he ought to have stressed experimentation less? Why was Filius giggling in that unsettling manner?
"Have you considered the potential downstream effects of a Fidelius to protect an identity especially in combination with the other measures?" he asked faintly.
"It is the most secure way to do this." Minerva wore the particularly stubborn expression he'd found charming once.
"Do you think Mr. Potter would appreciate forgetting who he is?" Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose.
"He could be told." Filius insisted. "It would help him think of himself as only Hubert Prewett."
"In the interest of time, perhaps a geas combined with an oath for those who know would be the best option," Dumbledore decided. "We don't wish to do lasting damage or to work magic that would make Mr. Potter distrust us."
"I believe that was my first suggestion." Severus drawled. "Three quarters of an hour ago. Not that anyone listens to me."
"And a capital idea it was!" No sense in not encouraging Severus. Well, in this case. When he was more or less taking part in a discussion.
Not encouraging some of his more exotic potions experiments seemed better for the school's foundations.
"Shall we work out the wording, then?" Severus pulled a stack of parchment toward him. "And a list of people we'll need to take the oath?"
"Wonderful!" Albus pointedly ignored Filius' grumbling. "We can revisit other solutions at a later date. Does anyone have suggestions for the oath?"
There, disaster hopefully averted. For the moment. Albus breathed a sigh of relief.
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"So we could say someone left me with my mum's sister because my mum couldn't take care of me, which...that is mostly what happened, right?" Hugh asked.
"That's an excellent base. Er, we're going to have to say that your mum never told your dad about you. It could cause some problems for you as you'd have been born, er, outside a marriage." Percy explained.
"Are wizards weird about that? Aunt Petunia is."
"It depends entirely on the family, to be honest. Some don't care at all and some are quite...odd about it."
"Hm." Hugh muttered. "Never thought Aunt Petunia would have anything in common with wizards. What about, er, different races...or religions? Are wizards weird about that, too?"
It appeared that behind smudged glasses (number 17 on Percy's mental list of things to handle), Hugh possessed an insatiable curiosity about the world. They'd have to encourage that.
"I think it's probably like Muggles, Hugh. Some care and some don't. More don't than do, though. Some things just aren't important because we tend to look more at magical strength and lineage."
"Like the Patils." Ron put in. "They go way back here and even further in India. Most people don't care about their color, not even the Malfoys. Then there are some who are plain rude to them."
"Thank you, Ron. Very well put. Most, er, social issues in the Muggle world don't carry over to the magical one." Percy rooted about in his bag.
"So even like, two blokes or two girls together, like dating together, wouldn't be a problem?" Hugh picked at the cuff of his ratty jumper, looking straight down at his knees.
"Why's it anyone's business?" Ron cut in before he could begin a delicate answer. "Unless you're a firstborn and stuff's...what's the thing Perce where the estate has to stay together and all that?"
"Entailed?" Percy desperately wanted to know where Ron took this one.
"'At's the biscuit! Unless stuff is entailed and you have to have so many kids from a marriage to pass it on, it isn't anyone's business what you do. And the entail thing is between you and your lawyers, really."
Where the hell had Ron even learned that?
"Ron is correct. We've gone a bit off course, though. I know you'll have lots of questions, Hugh, so here's a notebook and a self-inking quill for you to use. You can write down everything you want to know about and we'll help you find answers. And before we get back to the subject at hand, I have a different kind of notebook for each of you, too." He handed the notebooks out, considered it for a moment, and handed each boy a second one.
"The ones with the brown leather covers will never run out of pages. They automatically refill when you need more pages. I want you to have them so you can keep all your notes in one place and have a place to draft essays before using up your parchment. I'll show you how to create sections for each of your subjects. That way, when OWLs come around, you won't have to scramble for your notes and essays. Creating a section also creates a pocket that’ll hold all your parchment when it comes back marked, as well."
"Thank you." Hugh breathed, staring at the three notebooks in his lap and running a finger over the fine leather cover. "No one's ever…"
"Ever what, Hugh?" Percy asked gently, leaning forward to catch Hugh's eye.
"Just given me a present. Hagrid gave me the first one I can remember, Hedwig, but no one's ever done something like this. Just because they thought it would help." His voice went quieter and quieter as he spoke.
Maybe, Percy thought, he could ask Professor Snape how he suppressed homicidal impulses. Surely the person who taught the twins Potions had those frequently?
"Well, in our family we like to help each other," he patted Hugh's hand.
"But Perce, these are a bit dear, aren't they? M'not complaining, it's brilliant, thank you, but…" Ron trailed off, clearly not wanting to ask how he got the galleons for them.
"Case lots of things are much less expensive than buying singles. And, er, will you two swear not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?" It might be a gamble, but Hugh had trusted them with so much.
"Sure, Perce, we swear." Ron promised, Hugh nodding along. Hugh even mimed locking his lips.
"I, er, wrote some fiction for some of the women's magazines this summer."
Both boys blinked at him.
"What, like Sir Roderick Takes Revenge?" Of course Ron would have read one. "That's what you were doing holed up in your room all summer?"
"Yes." Percy answered weakly. That one wasn't one of his best efforts
"I wondered why they weren't so soppy as usual. S'where I learned about entails. Very big on entails, Roderick was."
"Ron, do you read Mum's magazines?" He asked the question carefully. No telling what would offend an eleven-year-old.
"Well I finished all the books I had and went through the stuff Mum said I could read out of the sitting room bookcase." Ron hunched up defensively. "I was bored."
"We'll let Mum and Dad know you need more books. Maybe...maybe we could go and look together for some things for you?" It was always dicey, asking a brother to spend time with him now.
"I'd like that, Perce. Thanks." Ron came out of his defensive scrunch now that he wasn't being made fun of and there was a chance at an outing.
"So, well, now you know. I put most of my earnings in the bank and used some of what I kept out for the notebooks. I thought it might be helpful for some of the muggleborn students who don't know about everything we have...since I'm a Prefect this year...I, um, wanted to be helpful." Percy felt his cheeks heat. The twins' teasing… "And they don't get that long with a professor in Diagon…."
"Well, I'm happy this family found me because that's a really nice thing to do." Hugh put in. "And we can just say that my mum left my dad before she knew she was pregnant and didn't want to go back. Maybe...maybe she, um, asked for a divorce in a letter or something? Then it won't be weird. And when she couldn't handle me being, y'know magic, she dumped me on my aunt's doorstep in the middle of the night and we haven't seen her since."
"That's a coherent enough story, Hugh, without too much detail. It'll do. Now that that's settled, I think it's time you two got a leg up on your lessons," Percy decided. He'd ask about Hugh being dumped on a doorstep later.
"But Peeeeeeerce…" Ron whined.
"No. I won't have either of you show up unprepared. You're going to read the first chapter of...Potions and Transfiguration and then we're going to discuss them. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall both have high standards." Percy watched steadily until both boys pulled out their books.
"They're not long chapters, Ron." Hugh showed him the small chunk of pages in his Potions book. "And it's nice that I can actually study. I don't have to do worse than Dudley, now."
That seemed to mollify Ron, or at least horrify him into silence. He settled down, grumpy but quiet, to read. Percy let his head loll back on the seat. He'd only close his eyes for a moment, really. Hugh scratching away in his new question journal underscored the soft rustle of turning pages.
He'd have to make sure Hugh got penmanship lessons.
And on that thought, he dropped off to sleep.
#hubert prewett makes an entrance#exasperated snape is exasperated#percy weasley needs a holiday#hp au#Generating HP aus faster than I can write
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I was poking at the next bit for Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance and...poor Dumbledore. He's...he's just tired. His senior staff is making plans to lay a geas on the entire Wizarding World. There is Arithmancy involved. And Runes. And Filius is giggling.
And he has to herd this group of monumentally nerdy cats into some semblance of order. (And not doing the thing they wish to do)
If anyone is wondering why he never checked on Harry, it's because he was trying to keep his senior staff from ripping a hole in the fabric of reality just because they thought it might be neat.
@sneverussape you'll be happy to know that there will be more. 😃
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The one, single problem I have with the Snapedom is that I wind up spawning more WIPs than one person could conceivably keep up with.
Current ideas/Actual WIPs
- Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance (wip)
- Letters from Petunia (and Dudley) (wip)
- The Cokeworth Lost Baggage Department (wip)
- Edwina and her family
- Eglantine as an adult
- The 1983 Slytherin 7th years
- Sirius and Severus being snarky arseholes to one another but in a friendly/Slytherin way, thereby sidestepping some of the OotP issues. Includes ridiculous posh Slytherin nicknames only obvious to Severus and Sirius.
- The whole Ton/Society AU (meta wip)
#the snapedom#snapedom#snape community#too many things to write#clearly the 40 hour workweek and having to keep a household running is anti writing#current wips
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Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance
"Now Ginny, don't gawk. He's a boy, not a kneazel in a shop." Molly scolded lightly, pulling Ginny back to stand away from the train. She didn't like to scold, not when poor Gin faced most of a year just with her, but you couldn't go about gawking at people like that.
And he looked so much like Lily, right down to that sweet smile of hers, that her heart hurt for a moment. They'd been pregnant together, she and Lily and Alice, so they'd spent many long hours in the Burrow's sitting room, waiting together. One couldn't very well go on raids seven months gone. She found herself glad Lily lived on in Harry.
She could hold onto that.
"Mind if I sit here...everywhere else is full?"
Ron stumbled into the compartment as Fred poked him sharply in the back. They wanted to get Ron settled and be off to see Lee's tarantula. Much more interesting than ickle firsties.
"Er, sure?" The red headed boy shifted a bit as if to get further out of the way.
"Brilliant! I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." At least you could count on Ron to introduce himself.
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The surname came at nearly a whisper.
"Budge up, Fred! Blimey he looks like his mum!" George exclaimed from behind him, crowding in and shutting the door.
"Is that bad? Everyone keeps…" He pressed his lips together as if afraid he'd said too much already.
"Course not!" Ron butted in. "It's only everyone thought you'd look like your dad, you know."
"Some blond prat was going on about it, nearly ran into me in the corridor." George explained the shoving. "You're the talk of the train."
Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "I didn't even know about magic until Hagrid knocked the door in!"
"Hagrid knocked the…" Fred started.
"Door in?" George finished.
"My relatives don't much like magic? Or anything that isn't normal? My uncle sells drills." The plaintive look on the kid's face tugged at Fred's heartstrings as an idea formed. He hadn't the foggiest what a drill was, but he assumed it was something normal for Muggles.
"Who are your relatives?" George asked.
"Er, Vernon and Petunia? Aunt Petunia's my mum's sister." Harry shifted nervously and looked to Ron, who mouthed 'Just answer him'
"And you're from?"
"Er, Surrey? Little Whinging."
"Right then, you and Ronnie get acquainted, George and I have some, er, business to attend to." Fred butted in before George could really get going. "We may have a solution for your...attention problem. Have to do some planning first. We'll be back." Fred heaved Ron's trunk up into the rack and hauled George out.
"You get used to them." They heard Ron explain as Fred dragged George into the nearest empty compartment.
"I have an idea for the biggest prank ever played on the Wizarding World, George."
"You have The Face, Fred. Last time you had The Face we were grounded for a month. Literally grounded. Mum locked up our brooms."
"What's a broom to the most genius prank in our long and storied history? What if he didn't have to be Harry Potter?" Fred went on, ignoring George. "He's miserable at the attention, George."
"And who might he be instead? Eustace the midgety?"
The question cheered Fred immensely. If George really didn't want to, no amount of wheedling would budge him. And Fred was an excellent wheedler.
"Hubert Prewett. Junior."
"Fred...Freddy...you cannot drop children on unsuspecting bachelor uncles. It's not done. It's not...sporting."
"Sporting? You have spent too much time writing Oliver. In any case, it's perfect. Cousin Hubert is a squib; Harry is Muggle-raised. They both live in Surrey. And we wouldn't drop Harry on him. We would ask. Nicely. And, er, let Mum and Aunt Muriel know."
George went quiet for a moment. "How do you plan to get Professor McGonagall in on this? He can't be Sorted as Harry Potter and then refuse to answer to it."
"We'll need Percy for that part. And for a large plaster to put over his scar. Perce always has things like that. And he writes the most touching letters."
George snorted. "We'll go find Percy and put it to him."
Percy proved somewhat elusive, but they finally ran him to ground doing his rounds and shoved him into an empty compartment.
"We need your expertise and a large plaster," Fred found himself blurting out before Percy could draw himself up to his full height.
Nothing good ever came from Percy drawing himself up like that.
"I beg your pardon?" Percy's ingrained good manners saved their skin.
"What Fred means is that he's found another wounded dove, only this time he's not trying to hide it in the henhouse. He wants to hide it in House Prewett."
"Will one of you try making sense in the next fifteen seconds?" Percy scolded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've already had to break up two games of strip Exploding Snap and discovered the Head Boy in a compromising position. I am not in the mood for your nincompoopery."
Percy had apparently spent the Summer studying the Severus Snape Big Book of Bastardry. (He wasn't that bad, really, but one did have to humor the man or he'd be completely unreasonable about certain...experiments)
"Harry Potter was completely Muggle-raised and had no idea he was even magic until a month ago. He's miserable at the attention. He also looks like his mum and therefore would blend in with us. If we can manage, I think he ought to use Hubert Prewett as an assumed name." Fred explained. "We need your help convincing Mum, Aunt Muriel, and Professor McGonagall."
"Have you asked cousin Hubert?" Percy asked, now rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I know you two have some way of contacting him."
Fred stared at George. How did Percy always know?
"Er, yeah, we can get word to him." Fred finally answered.
"As Fred's instincts are usually good...only when it comes to those in need of help, mind...I will write to Mum and Aunt Muriel. I will also let Professor McGonagall know as soon as you obtain permission from cousin Hubert. That means now, please."
George made rather a show of pulling their latest invention out of his pocket - one of a pair of linked notebooks. Fred produced a pencil and pulled George down to the bench. When it came down to it, though, how did you ask your happy bachelor uncle if he'd like to participate in pulling the wool--there it was.
Hubert - high priority!
Would you like to help pull the wool over the eyes of the entire Wizarding World? Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts but he's been raised Muggle. He's miserable about all the attention. We'd like to hide him as a Prewett. What do you think of him being Hubert Prewett Junior?
And before you ask, yes, Percy is assisting and doesn't object.
"We'll have to wait a few." George explained.
"So that book is connected to…?" Percy prompted.
"Hubert's got the other one." Fred tapped the page impatiently. They had several hours, but he really wanted to know. And they'd have to brief Harry.
"And he can use it?" Percy looked interested. "Even though he's a Squib?"
"He has some magic, Perc." George growled.
"George, Percy has a point." Fred slapped a hand over his own mouth for a moment, horrified to agree with Percy. "Hell. Anyway, you know Squibs have variable access to magic, just not enough to go to Hogwarts. Hubert is actually on the cusp."
"Do you think he might be interested in some experi--"
But the notebook flashed blue, cutting Percy off. Knowing him, Hubert would have a properly formatted research proposal winging its way to him by morning.
Twin terrors -
Yes. Will expand on this later, you caught me at work.
But you know I'm only agreeing because Percy considers it a reasonable idea…
"He said yes, Perc. Will you write McGonagall?"
"Professor McGonagall and I can do one better." Percy wrote a note on some spare parchment (and where he'd been hiding that Fred would always wonder), set it on the seat beside him, and set his Prefect badge on top of it. He tapped his badge twice and muttered something Fred couldn't quite hear. The parchment disappeared.
"It'll go to her desk in her office." Percy explained. "And here's the plaster you wanted. Is it large enough?"
"You're brilliant, Percy! We'll just buzz off and…" Fred hopped up from the seat but couldn't swipe the plaster.
"No." Percy held up a hand to stop them. "I will see Ron and Mr. Potter to explain once I receive word from Professor McGonagall. You two go and meet up with Lee. If you don't, people will be suspicious."
"I really don't like it when he has a point." George grumbled, especially as Percy swiped his linked notebook.
"I will also see to concocting a reasonable backstory with cousin Hubert. You'll get this back when we get to Hogwarts." Percy cut off the complaints before they could start.
"We'll just go along and find Lee. We haven't seen his tarantula yet." Fred stood and pulled on George to get him moving. As they scuttled into the corridor, Fred heard Percy mutter.
"I did not hear that. I did not hear that and I don't have to do anything about it."
----------------
Meanwhile, in McGonagall's office…
"Minerva, why the devil has Harry Potter disappeared from the class roster to be replaced by…" Severus Snape looked down at the grade book he'd brought with him. "Hubert Prewett...Junior?"
"Balls." Minerva muttered, setting down her quill. "It would be you who noticed."
"Is there an explanation forthcoming or must I begin guessing?" Snape fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose after several very quiet moments.
"Apparently, he takes after Lily in looks and...did Albus ever tell you where he was placed?" Minerva stood and moved to the small sideboard near her desk. She tapped the kettle with her wand and steam poured from the spout.
"With a family who would see to it he was properly educated." Snape answered promptly.
"Do sit, Severus. You make me nervous lurking in front of my desk." Minerva directed as she poured the boiling water into a malachite green earthenware teapot.
"I don't see how I can lurk when I'm standing here plain as day." Severus complained, but only for form's sake. "And can I assist?"
"Your lurking is more a state of being. You...always seem to lurk. And no, I'm not so infirm that I can't make tea. You can get the biscuit tin, though."
He did as he was told, getting the plaid biscuit tin down from its place crammed onto one of her bookshelves. He set it on one of the armchairs before her fireplace and pulled the piecrust table out from the wall by the fireplace. He set the top and shook a cloth out over it before setting the tin at one side. Minerva would need the bulk of the table for the tea things.
She followed him moments later, the tea tray making a smooth and silent landing on the table. They sat, as they often did of an evening when neither needed to patrol, and Minerva poured tea. Severus accepted a cup and waited for Minerva to speak.
"You were not fully informed of Potter's whereabouts, Severus. He was raised by Lily's sister." She began, finally.
Severus would ever after swear that everything stopped for a full minute. The world seemed terribly far away and his ears rang strangely.
"Severus! Severus!"
He came back to himself at the panic Minerva's voice.
"I...I'm fine, Minerva. It was...a shock. Petunia loathed magic."
"How did you know her name?"
He looked into a narrow-eyed glare, reminding him that her Animagus form was a predator.
"I grew up with them, Minerva. Surely you remember? We called her Pisstunia as she was always pissing on anyone else's happiness."
"I always for...hmm...I'll look into that. In any case, there wasn't any other family available and Albus didn't want him going to, well, the Malfoys. It was all well and good for...for Sirius to blood adopt him during...well, it could have backfired had Narcissa known."
"I...see." Severus answered carefully. "Who wrote?"
"Percy Weasley. Fred and George came to him. I don't know why any of us didn't think of it. Although, I was sure he'd take after James." Minerva sipped her tea. "If he can have a normal time of it at Hogwarts with no expectations or whispering in the corridors, it'll do him a world of good."
"I think it would," he agreed, his throat tight. The boy looked like Lily. He'd expected a miniature Potter as well, but he...that would likely prove difficult. But he'd be a Prewett. He'd be invisible. Severus had rather dreaded calling roll. "It will make many things easier."
"He'll be judged on his own merits." Minerva agreed firmly.
"Anyone who knows, or who met him, will need to be placed under oath." He added. "It won't help if his secret gets out."
"A geas, perhaps? One that will keep all of us from speaking his actual name?" Minerva suggested, sipping her tea thoughtfully. "Would it work on society at large?"
"Can one's identity be secured with a Fidelius? Along with the geas?" An idle question, but it could help.
"I think we should try them together." Minerva decided.
--------------------------------------------
Percy made his way down the train to Ron's compartment, mentally creating a checklist. He trusted Professor McGonagall to take care of the name change and security for Harry...Hubert...best start the way one meant to go on. But, the boy would need a believable back story, constructed mostly out of the truth. It was the best way to lie, really. Mum never believed the twins or Ron because they made everything sound so fantastical. And to get the truth, he needed to speak to Hubert. Both of them.
He located the boys in the midst of wrappers and boxes. Well, if Fred was correct, he mayn't ever have had the chance to eat sweets like this before. And there were pasties there, too, so it wasn't just a sugar fest. He knocked once before sliding the door open.
"Hello Ron." He turned to the other occupant while Ron tried to stuff wrappers out of sight. "I'm Percy, Ron's older brother. I spoke to the twins and we can help with...the issue at hand."
The boy stared at him, open-mouthed. Percy closed and locked the door with a flick of his wand and set some anti-eavesdropping charms. Next to Ron, Harry looked tiny, too small to be a student. His whole...look...gave him an air of neglect, from his wild hair to the too-large clothes to the trainers held together with some kind of tape. Percy knew, no matter Harry's answer, that he would do something about this. No child should arrive at Hogwarts so clearly unloved.
"How would you like to be a Prewett?" He asked.
"A what?"
"We have a squib cousin named Hubert Prewett. We've asked him if he would be willing to pretend you were his son, and he agreed. You could attend Hogwarts as Hubert Prewett junior. No one would be likely to stare or make you uncomfortable." Percy tried to explain clearly.
"Just like that?"
"If you want to. I arranged it with Professor McGonagall. She thought it a good idea, actually. You could be just a normal student."
"I…" Harry stopped for a moment, brow wrinkling a bit in thought. "Would I have to give up being a Potter?"
"No. I've...checked with Gringotts before, just out of curiosity, and they have no problem with a client taking an assumed name. You'll still be you, just with a name you take to protect your privacy. Even if you were adopted, unless you renounce the Potter family, you'll always be a Potter. It has to do, in some part, with our Family Magics," Percy explained carefully.
"Then...yes. I just want to be a normal student. I don't want anyone staring or whispering. It's just...the scar? Everyone knows." Harry scrunched in on himself, looking, impossibly, even smaller.
"We can try this," Percy held up the plaster. "Or we can try to blend it into something else."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
"Now that I've seen it, perhaps a port wine stain? It would be the right color to give it some camouflage. A combination may be safest, just in case you get hit with a finite."
"Could we try the plaster first?" A tentative question that sent every alarm bell ringing in Percy's head. Not the question, but the way he asked it. The way he held himself as if expecting a smack.
"Of course. Can I put it on for you?"
A quick nod answers his question. He made certain he only held the plaster and that he moved slowly. It covered the scar easily and he smoothed it in place.
"Hello Hubert Prewett, junior. Welcome to the Wizarding World." He had no idea where the words came from, but they sealed something between him and Hugh and Ron...and maybe all the Weasleys and Prewetts. There was a claim in there, because Percy will be damned if this child goes back to his 'family' next June. The family magics just made a smug sort of chime at him.
"Hi." He smiles shyly. "Er, do we need a story or something about how I got here?"
"That's why I'm here and not the twins," Percy explained. "Knowing them, you'd have been raised by a band of roving house elves or something equally ludicrous. We're going to settle on a story and tell cousin Hubert, Mum, and Aunt Muriel, and then I'm going to make certain the two of you are prepared for your first classes."
Ron groaned and tried to slither onto the floor. "But Peeeeeerc…"
"No, Ron. I've done my Prefect rounds and explained that we have a slight family...thing to Oliver. You have my undivided attention for the rest of this trip." He wasn't hiding from anything, not really, but Ron and Hugh probably needed him more than anyone else right now. "And you will not show up unprepared for your first classes."
He knew that Ron knew the Look on his face.
"In any case, consider me a resource for all the questions you have but didn't know who to ask."
"Fine." Ron huffed. Hugh just looked at him as though he'd hung the moon.
"I can ask questions?"
"As many as you like," Percy promised, wondering how he could smile at a child while feeling absolute homicidal rage ringing in his ears. "And I'll answer them to the best of my ability or find a professor who can. That goes for you too, Ron."
"If we do everything you say, will you play chess with me?" Ron asked. "Later?"
"Of course. Now, let's figure out a past for Hugh."
Percy made a mental note to research Muggle baiting laws. Was it baiting if they all knew about magic? And exactly how would Muggles react to certain potions created by certain red headed menaces? And would Hugh give up an address?
#harry potter alternate universe#hp fic#harry potter#ron weasley#fred weasley#george weasley#percy weasley#minerva mcgonagall#severus snape#the weasley prewett family contains multitudes#percy is tired#snape notices everything
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