Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A new student enters the mix
Chapter 7: The Canadian Sixth Year
N.E.W.T Charms was the first class on Thursday morning for all three of them. Harry and Hermione shared a free period afterward, while Ron went off to N.E.W.T. Divination, so it was not surprising that the message to report to Dumbledore came at the end of Flitwick’s class. Harry had been quiet all morning, obviously aching with curiosity, but too generous to torment Hermione with it. Nonetheless, the curiosity manifested itself physically, as Harry bounced a little on the balls of his feet as they waited to be admitted to the Headmaster’s office.
Hermione was curious herself. She wondered if Lily would be there when they arrived. Dumbledore, however, had evidently decided to break the news to Harry more gradually. The ritual sweets were offered and refused. The suggestion to sit down was not.
Dumbledore gave Harry a kind and paternal smile before beginning their talk. Hermione could hardly meet the Headmaster’s eyes.
"Harry," he began, "you must have surmised that something extraordinary has taken place over the past few days."
"Yes, sir, " Harry admitted. "We thought we were having an earthquake Sunday night, but that wasn’t possible, was it? So we knew it must be magic, and pretty powerful magic at that."
"Just so. A quite remarkable magical effort. Miss Granger here was involved, obviously; and since it concerns you, we agreed to tell you the entire story. I think, Hermione, " he directed, "you should begin with the Reading Room and the picture."
Hermione took a deep breath, and spoke, looking at her hands. "Several weeks ago, quite by chance, I found a new room here at Hogwarts near the library. I was using it as a study room, because Madam Pince was so---because Madam Pince felt I was spending too much time in the library. There is a picture of the library in this hidden room, and in the picture was a student from several years ago. You know how pictures like to talk sometimes. " She glanced up at Harry, and he nodded encouragingly.
"Well," she continued, "this student and I started talking, and I explained about the War, and about Voldemort, and about The Boy-Who-Lived." She looked a quick apology at him, and went on. "The student was terribly upset to hear about what had been going on and wanted to help us in the War. Before I knew it, I was researching how to reanimate portraits and release them from the canvas—"
Harry jumped to his feet, overjoyed. "It’s Sirius! You’ve brought Sirius back!"
Hermione and Dumbledore looked at him, appalled at the misunderstanding.
"Not Sirius, Harry! No, it’s someone else." Her heart was wrung by his anguished expression. He slumped back into his chair. "It’s someone else who cares a lot about you and about fighting the war. But you must understand the picture was made when she was sixteen, so she didn’t know about you at first, and everything was different for her then—"
Harry’s eyes were huge. He looked wildly at Dumbledore, who nodded slightly.
"Mum?" he whispered. "I saw her then—right after all the strange things happened. I saw her as plain as anything." A tiny, wondering smile touched his lips. "Mum is alive again?"
Hermione saw Dumbledore’s face, and hurried on. "You have to understand that she’s just sixteen, Harry. She’s just like us. It was a time in her life when she and your dad were not even good friends yet. She’s different than I imagined—really interested in school work and her special projects."
Harry smiled—shakily. "Something like you."
"Well, a little. We had a lot in common, and we enjoyed talking together. She hadn’t really thought about being anybody’s mother, yet; but when she heard about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and how----well, she calls your real mum "the other Lily"—when she heard about how Voldemort had killed her, she was so angry that she begged me to help her. And I did." She took another deep breath, hoping Dumbledore would spare her any more.
Harry looked at her in awe. "Hermione, that’s brilliant!" He looked at Dumbledore. "That’s really brilliant! That’s Order of Merlin brilliant!"
Dumbledore shook her head, gravely. "No, Harry. It was brilliant, but it must remain absolutely secret for many reasons. First of all, what Miss Granger did is forbidden magic that would certainly earn her a life’s sentence in Azkaban, were this to become known."
"But—"
"No, Harry. She used your blood to perform Necromancy. No one in the Wizengamot or the Ministry would show her any mercy. This event must never be revealed to anyone."
Hermione was hot with shame. She glanced at Harry briefly, and looked down again. Harry frowned a little, remembering how she had taken his blood, but he pushed the memory aside in favour of the amazing situation before him.
"We can’t tell Ron, even?"
"No, Harry, the fewer people who know, the better. Even knowing that this spell has been performed and not reporting it could subject us all to severe penalties. Enough people know already: the three of us; Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, who taught Lily and would recognise her; Madam Pomfrey, who had treated her before; Remus Lupin, with whom I spoke last night; and Severus Snape."
Harry snorted in disgust. "Snape! Why tell him?"
"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected him. "And he did after all, attend Hogwarts with your mother, just as Professor Lupin did." He cast a glance in Hermione’s direction, and she understood.
"Lily from the picture was painted in her sixth year, Harry," she told him. "She was Professor Snape’s partner in Potions and they were pretty good friends at the time." Harry shook his head angrily, but Hermione knew he must hear this. "Yes, Harry, they were friends, and I can tell that he thinks a lot of her—there were problems with the spell, and I went to get help. As soon as he saw her, he carried her to Madam Pomfrey and did all he could—"
Harry had stopped listening. He was now waiting for Hermione to stop talking. "When can I see her?"
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "In just a moment." Harry glowed with excitement. "Her appearance has been modified to disguise her. I’m sure you can see why." Harry nodded eagerly. "She will admitted to Hogwarts under the name Lily Jones, as a pureblood transfer student from Canada. She understands the need to finish her education. She also knows about the Order of the Phoenix." His eyes slid inexorably to Hermione’s, full of rebuke.
A door to the office had opened, and Lily quietly entered the room. Harry got to his feet unsteadily, and the two or them stared at each other for a long moment.
"Mum?" Harry managed.
Lily flinched. She said carefully, "You’re obviously Harry. I’m your age, and I’m not exactly your mother." She saw his lost look and quickly added, "Think of me as your mother’s twin sister. We’re just the same genetically, but we’ve had different experiences. I’m here to help you and everyone else who’s fighting Voldemort." She looked at him again, and burst out, "I’m sorry if this hurts you. It’s all pretty strange to me too. Mind you, I asked for it. I couldn’t just sit there in the painting, seeing my friends grow old and not helping them when they needed me."
Harry was staring at her, not unhappily, but full of eager curiosity. "Are you supposed to sound like that?"
Lily attempted a laugh. "This is the Headmaster’s disguise. The hair and eye colour too."
"It makes you look like---Professor Snape."
Dumbledore interposed. "A piece of misdirection that should help protect her true identity."
Harry asked, still gazing at Lily, "What classes are you in?"
"I hardly know myself." She turned to Dumbledore. "Let’s see-- you provided me with the books for Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Potions, Arithmancy, Runes---and History! What happened to Herbology and Muggle Studies? Why am I doomed to more of Professor Binns?"
Dumbledore observed mildly, "If you are still interested in your special project, a N.E.W.T in History will give you more academic credibility. It is not advisable, as your assumed identity is that of a pureblood, for you to take Muggle Studies at the present time."
"That’s still four classes together." Harry smiled. "It’s going to be brilliant. When are you coming back to Gryffindor Tower?"
"Miss Jones must be Sorted first, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I’m sure you understand. The ceremony will take place tonight. Lily and I still need to meet with Professor Lupin and go over some details of her story."
Hermione got up, feeling that, all in all, it could have gone much worse. "Well, Professor, this is working out fairly well. It will be wonderful to have Lily join us tonight---"
"One last thing, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gravely. "There is the matter of your punishment."
The three students stood frozen. Hermione squeaked, "My punishment?"
"Oh, yes, quite indispensable. Nothing like a life sentence in Azkaban, of course, but still something memorable enough to remind you of the need to consider your future actions more carefully. I am quite astounded by your skill with the potion you devised. It seems to me that such a remarkable talent should not go uncultivated. Therefore, you will be assisting Professor Snape every Friday evening for the rest of the school year. I’m sure he has much to teach you."
Hermione gaped at him. "I’m to be Professor Snape’s skivvy—his Potions slave for my entire sixth year?"
Dumbledore was perfectly calm. "Yes, that is correct. It is an extraordinary opportunity—it could well develop into a full assistantship next year, or even an apprenticeship after graduation."
Harry and Hermione regarded him with horrified disbelief.
Lily shook her head. "It doesn’t seem fair that she’s being punished and I’m not."
Dumbledore did not smile. "You did not make the potion. Miss Granger did."
-----
To anyone else, it seemed an ordinary evening at Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione, however, went down to dinner bursting with anticipation. It was painful to keep such a secret from Ron, but so it must be. It was particularly painful to conceal that there even was a secret. Hermione glanced at Harry, and saw that he had made a special effort tonight. His robes were spotless, his hair was brushed as neatly as his hair would permit, and he was almost squeaky clean.
Never had it taken so long for the students to gather at the tables. Never had it taken so long for the teachers to find their places. Finally, Dumbledore rose from his chair and commanded their attention.
"I am pleased to announce that we have a new student joining us tonight. Lily Jones has transferred to Hogwarts from Medicine Hat Lodge in Canada, and will be in sixth year. I know you will all welcome her to our school." He looked down to the doors of the Great Hall. "Miss Jones, you will now be Sorted into your House."
Lily walked through the Great Hall, head high, under the anxious eyes of Harry and Hermione, the concerned ones of Snape, Lupin, and the other staff in the secret of her identity; and ignored the vocal speculations of the student body—especially those of the older boys.
She reached the stool in front of the Head Table and sat composedly. Professor McGonagall, with a little hesitation, handed her the Sorting Hat, and Lily set it firmly on her head.
There was a tense silence. This was always a moment of high drama at Hogwarts, and most were enjoying it to the full. The silence lengthened. Hermione could see a variety of expressions crossing Lily’s face, and wondered what was being communicated.
Lily, sitting before all of Hogwarts, was outwardly serene and inwardly uneasy, for the first words addressed to her were:
"Ah, here’s someone I’ve looked into before! What! You’re back! It was Gryffindor the last time, wasn’t it? Oh, yes, I never forget a mind I’ve met! Very courageous indeed! Better than clever, too, as I recall—briefly considered Ravenclaw for you---but no! Much too aggressive for them! Let’s see---bold as ever, and wanting to do even better this time! Full of ambition, you are! And using a false name to get here? Sly of you!"
"I am not sly," Lily answered back, annoyed. "This is a ruse to get me back into Hogwarts and prepare me to help fight against that horrible Oldy---oh, you knew him as Tom Riddle! And I can’t use my real name, because no one must know who I am!"
"Very, very, cunning," insinuated the Hat. If it had had a proper face, Lily would have wanted to punch it. It purred, "And very ambitious too, if you want to be a match for our Tommy! Maybe Slytherin is the place for you!"
"I’m not a pureblood, you know. I’d hardly fit in!"
"Ah, but they won’t know that, will they? You’re presenting yourself as a pureblood, and they’ll be none the wiser! Tommy wasn’t a pureblood, either, you know. Ambition and cunning trump blood in my reckoning. And besides, I’ve been having reservations for some time about the house divisions. You’d do well in Gryffindor, of course, amongst all the other lions, but you’ll go farthest in achieving your goals----in SLYTHERIN!"
The Slytherin table erupted in cheers. The girls were not quite so delighted, but the boys scuffled discreetly among themselves to provide a place for their lovely new housemate. Draco Malfoy, whose prestige had slipped notably as his father’s fortunes fell, was still someone to be reckoned with, and Miss Jones was soon seated beside him. Blaise Zabini, suave and soigné, however, had unobtrusively managed to appear at her other side. The two boys eyed one another warily, but both approved of the new Slytherin’s pureblood looks and coolly polite demeanour.
Harry and Hermione’s jaws had dropped. They stared at each other in confusion and disappointment, and looked up at the Head Table. Snape was gloating. Lupin was a picture of resigned melancholy. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout all appeared astonished. Dumbledore’s reaction was by far the most interesting. He seemed genuinely pleased; for he caught Harry’s eye and gave him an almost imperceptible smile.
Dinner began. Whilst stuffing his face, Ron loudly gave his opinion.
"Well," declared he. "There’s another filthy Slytherin to keep an eye on! Did you see her, swaggering in here like she owns the place? And she looks just like Snape—probably his long-lost daughter or niece or grandmother or whatever! You know those Joneses are all criminals anyway, so I reckon she’ll fit right in with that lot!"
Harry looked sick. Hermione decided to put a stop to this sort of talk immediately. "Stop it, Ron! You don’t know anything about her! She’s probably perfectly nice—the Hat puts people in Slytherin because they’re ambitious, and there’s nothing wrong with that! You could do with a little more ambition yourself!" She found Harry’s hand under the table and squeezed it.
Harry stared down at his plate, and then murmured quietly in Hermione’s ear. "The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, too."
She gave him a startled look, and then decided to put the best face on the situation. She whispered back, "It might be a good thing. It will help protect her identity, and we’ll have a friend amongst the Slytherin students. We’ve never had one of our people there before. You saw that Dumbledore wasn’t upset. I’m disappointed, too, that we won’t have her in Gryffindor, but this could be a really good thing!"
Snape was consuming his dinner with an uncommon degree of enjoyment. Lily would be in his own house. I can favour her openly. I can give her House points. Potter won’t have as many opportunities to make her his little mother. This could be a really good thing.
-----
Notes: Yes, Lupin is DADA professor. I have a number of reasons: 1) I want him there at Hogwarts for dramatic reasons; 2) I am not using a Ministry Auror like Tonks, Moody, or Shacklebolt, because now that Voldemort has publicly returned, the Ministry cannot spare them; 3) With the British wizarding world in a state of emergency, allowances have been made for Lupin, who is known to have fought against Voldemort during the battle at the DOM; 4) I don’t want to introduce an original character; 5) Even the Ministry can now recognise the need for a competent DADA instructor; 6) I like him and want him in my story, even as a minor character.
I was thrilled to find out that this story is a Multifaceted Award Nominee.
Next chapter: The Serpents’ Den. Lily meets and greets.