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A brief episode at the start of term at Hogwarts

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Mairi bheag



Joined: 04 Mar 2005
Posts: 5094
Location: Scotland
A brief episode at the start of term at Hogwarts

( This is not a pastiche of J K Rowling’s writing style, it is just a bit of fun. There’s no sex in it. I left out the bit where Hermione Grainger wonders whether the new teacher is “packing”. Anyone who takes this story too seriously and starts to talk about inaccuracies in the portrayal of Hogwarts will be instantly labelled a “Harry Potter Anorak”, and be required to sweep out Fluffy’s kennel – no exceptions! )




There was an atmosphere in the classroom you could drive a nail into, the silence was solid. The timetable had said that this period was to be “Defence against the Dark Arts”, but as yet only the vaguest of rumours had been heard about the person who was going to teach them this term. The scuttlebutt was that it was someone new, someone… unexpected.

The pupils looked at each other as they heard footfalls approaching along the corridor. Then they watched the door. The footsteps sounded like trainers, there was neither hurry nor hesitation in the pace. For a moment or two there was the impression that they were going to pass the door. Then it opened.

In walked a woman in her late forties. She was plain with brown hair to her shoulders, and was dressed in combat pants and a rugby shirt. Around one wrist was a studded leather band, and a rucksack was slung by one strap over her shoulder. The class stared as she put her backpack down casually on the table at the head of the room. There was nothing particularly unusual about her. And that was it – no gown with sigils, no eccentrically-perched hat, no familiar in tow, no tome of lore under her arm, no wand-case. The truth dawned on the class. Draco Malfoy’s aristocratic mouth dropped open.

“A muggle!” he said. He didn’t say it loudly, but as the room was silent his voice carried. The woman turned to him, and the whole class was agog to see how she would react to the insult. The look she gave him was not one of annoyance, there was even a hint of amusement; her voice was quiet, but firm, with the hint of a Scottish accent softer than that of Professor MacGonnigal.

“The proper term, young Mr Malfoy, is ‘non-magical’, and that is what you and your colleagues here will use. You will certainly use it in my hearing and, if you know what is good for you, out of it too. The word ‘muggle’ will, this term, prove expensive in the way of house-points. It is not acceptable in the Twenty-first century to use disparaging terms of people because of who they were at birth. But yes, you are correct, and for those of you in the class who have not yet cottoned on, let me repeat the news for you. I am your teacher for this term in the subject of ‘Defence against the Dark Arts’; you will call me ‘Miss Marshall’, and I am decidedly non-magical. Mr Malfoy, you may now close your mouth. Even your surprise at the situation must have attenuated by now.”

Miss Marshall surveyed the class, and continued. “I must apologise for being a little bit late, but you have a challenging staircase in this school. I love the way it changes direction when you step onto a new flight. Actually I have found the knack of negotiating it. There is a logical sequence of changes, and all you have to do is ignore it totally and you can’t go wrong. Except you have to be ready for it to follow logic once in a while, just to catch you out. Talking nicely to it helps too. Apparently the wood from which it was made comes from a forest which belonged to a Prince who talked to trees. Anyway, this won’t get the pet a new collar, let’s get cracking with the lesson. To start with, put your books away!”

Miss Marshall had been slowly and casually walking towards Draco Malfoy’s desk, watching the expression on his face turn from disbelief to disgust the nearer she approached. Really, you would have thought it was a manticore approaching the young aristocrat, not merely a plain, middle-aged woman dressed in a boy’s throw-outs. She stopped at his desk, and held his gaze while her fingers traced lightly over the lined pad from which he had, only a few seconds ago, removed the top sheet.

“Telling your father that you are being taught by a ‘mere muggle’ would be superfluous at this point,” she said with a smile. “I was in Professor Dumbledore’s office when the headmaster informed him personally. He was incandescent but dignified. Oh and he did not use that term I have asked you to avoid.”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped. Miss Marshall bent down and whispered to him.

“Why do you bother with those two hangers-on?”

Straightening up again, she called out, “Want a sweetie, you two?” and took one from her pocket. She threw it towards Crabbe and Goyle. It seemed a clumsy throw, because it fell short. Both boys bent down for it, and cracked their heads together. Miss Marshall looked at Draco Malfoy, and then at the ceiling in mock despair.

“In case the rest of you are wondering,” she went on. “No, I am not a mind-reader. Though some non-magical people have talents which are not easily explained, and these talents are not to be found amongst the many dealt with in your school’s extensive library of magic, I am merely a… fairly… ordinary woman. But you would do well to listen to me and learn from me, for ordinary people have a lot to teach you. For example, Mr Malfoy there, in his anger, had written deeply with a ball-point pen; so deeply that I was able to follow what he had written with my fingertips on the next sheet of paper. No magic, no mind-reading, just know-how.”

“But that’s just a trick!” blurted Malfoy.

“Yes, a trick. The second of three I have carried out since I came into the room. The third was the rather cruel one I played on Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle – which one of you did get the sweetie, by the way? Neither? Oh that is a shame. The first was to capture the complete attention of all of you. Now that is a trick worth learning!”

And indeed the whole class was silent, their eyes on the new teacher.

“The ability to think, to think quickly, to think more quickly than the person you are up against, to sum up a dangerous situation and come to a decision, to improvise, to use your intelligence… these are skills which can be learned, and are learned, as much by the non-magical person than the magical. Often more so, because we do not have the lore and learning of necromancy at our fingertips. We cannot make light, but often we have to find our way in the dark nonetheless. We cannot summon supernatural strength, but often we have to defeat a stronger enemy. We cannot fly, but sometimes we have to know how and when to flee. What good to you are all your spells, incantations, potions, and wand-waving, if you are still thinking about what to do when disaster is right upon you? And if you can be… let us say tricked… by a person with no magical powers, what hope will you ever have against an adept of the Dark Arts. All you have learned, young ladies, young gentlemen, whether you are the purest of magical blood…” here Miss Marshall turned to Draco Malfoy, “the most academically brilliant…” then to Hermione Grainger, “the bravest…” to Harry Potter, “or the luckiest…” lastly to Ron Weasley, “will do you… no… good… at… all.”

She let those words sink in. The class was silent. Then the teacher walked up to Hermione.

“Miss Grainger, make me levitate!” she ordered.

Hermione took out her wand, but before she could make any passes in the air with it, Miss Marshall had grabbed it from her, snapped it in two, and thrown the two halves into the corner of the room. There was a gasp of horror.

“But… my wand!” said Hermione.

“…is perfectly safe, dear,” said the teacher, smiling, pulling it from the sleeve of her rugby shirt. “Sleight-of-hand, young ladies, young gentlemen. Not a skill you would learn here, but one at which a surprisingly large number of non-magical people are adept. Yes, I know… it’s only a trick. So let me take on the most renowned member of your class. I promise you that if he can best me in one simple challenge, I will bow to him, leave the school, and never dare again to contemplate teaching Defence against the Dark Arts. Mr Potter – stand up!”

Harry Potter, the boy whose fame had preceded him to Hogwarts, and whose exploits had won him both enemies and admirers in his own class and beyond, the protégé of Professor Dumbledore himself, rose from his chair. Miss Marshall went and stood in front of the blackboard and faced him. She made a simple pass in the air, and began to speak. As she spoke she began to walk towards him, slowly.

“Mr Potter, you are to assume that you are non-magical. You are armed with a hand-gun – please point your right index finger at me and cock your thumb… thank you. I am a magician. I have just informed you that I have protected myself by a charm last used in 1640. It renders my body impenetrable by bullets or by any projectile. I am advancing on you… and you can see that I am… intent on doing you some harm. Tell me Mr Potter, before it is too late, what can you possibly do to stop me?”

All eyes were either on Harry or on the advancing figure of Miss Marshall. Her face had taken on a sardonic hardness. Her gaze never left Harry’s face. The young wizard thought, thought hard, and then an answer came to him. Miss Marshall was almost upon him when he spoke.

“I would shoot you, Miss Marshall,” he said. The teacher stopped.

“Please explain to the class why you would shoot me, under these circumstances.”

Harry took a deep breath and began.

“Well, you said the spell had been last used in 1640. There must have been some reason why it had never been used since, and that reason is because it is somehow ineffective.”

“Oh I assure you it works,” said Miss Marshall. “My body is impenetrable to your bullets.”

“Yes, but… “Harry went on. “That’s all it is. It just means the bullets won’t go into you. There is still the force of the impact. It would knock you flying!”

There was silence again. Miss Marshall looked at Harry, and Harry looked at Miss Marshall. The class held its breath.

“A perfect answer, Mr Potter, you are absolutely correct.”

The class let out its breath. Draco Malfoy smirked, despite his dislike for Harry. At least it would mean the end of this farce… of being taught by a muggle.

“Does that mean you will have to bow to me and leave the school?” asked Harry. He was a little disappointed, because he had started to like this teacher.

“It would, Harry,” said Miss Marshall, softly. “Were it not for the fact that you had left the safety catch on that gun.”

Harry looked at his hand, and at that moment Miss Marshall slapped it away.

“I looked down at it,” thought Harry. “I actually looked down at my hand! She made me look down – she tricked me! No magic, no sleight-of-hand, nothing, she simply tricked me!” When he looked up, Miss Marshall was shaking her head, but there was a friendly smile on her face.

“Well, I win.” She said. “And it looks like you are all stuck with me for the rest of this year. And all because of yet another trick.”

Miss Marshall turned suddenly, and said in a commanding voice, “Ron Weasley!” Ron ducked, and then looked up with a sheepish grin.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Oh dear,” said the teacher. “It seems like I have you on the back foot already. This is going to be a long year, young ladies, young gentlemen. But let me write on the blackboard what you have already learned today.”

She was smiling to herself, as she chalked up the following words in large, regular capitals.

“YOUTH AND SKILL IS NO MATCH FOR AGE AND CUNNING.”




Mb
xx

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Post Tue Jul 17, 2007 2:29 pm 
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Tas_Passion_Godess



Joined: 04 Jun 2005
Posts: 578
Location: Kingston, Jamaica


I love it, i does harry potter justice. Great write.

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Hugs and Kisses
Tas
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Post Wed Jul 18, 2007 6:50 am 
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Mairi bheag



Joined: 04 Mar 2005
Posts: 5094
Location: Scotland


((((((((((((((Tazza)))))))))))))

Thank you hon Smile

Mb
xx

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Post Wed Jul 18, 2007 8:07 am 
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shanelvr



Joined: 18 Mar 2007
Posts: 1078
Location: pennsylvania


I loved this! Very Happy Very Happy

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Post Wed Jul 18, 2007 4:46 pm 
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Mairi bheag



Joined: 04 Mar 2005
Posts: 5094
Location: Scotland


quote:
Originally posted by shanelvr:
I loved this! Very Happy Very Happy

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Oh good! Very Happy

Mb
xx

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Post Thu Jul 19, 2007 3:26 am 
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jackie



Joined: 05 Aug 2007
Posts: 10
Location: South East USA


Well done, I loved it, being a Harry Potter fan (really Bonnie Wright) It does Harry justice .


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Post Sat Aug 11, 2007 5:54 am 
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Mairi bheag



Joined: 04 Mar 2005
Posts: 5094
Location: Scotland


quote:
Originally posted by jackie:
Well done, I loved it, being a Harry Potter fan (really Bonnie Wright) It does Harry justice .


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Thank you Smile

The irony of this piece is that I am renowned for not being a fan myself - it comes of being an unsuccessful Scottish author. The likes of me don't take to JKR's success (grrrrr, the damned second-rater! LOL)

Mb
xx

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all posted material (c) Marie Marshall, unless otherwise stated.

Post Sat Aug 11, 2007 8:26 am 
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