The Gloaming of the Gods
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,781
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,781
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 12
As Deputy Headmaster Albus was tasked with the orchestration of hundreds of Hogwarts admittance letters. Often these letters would first begin with, “You, my child, are a witch/wizard”. Necessarily letters of those variety required a bit of follow up. Albus found that he enjoyed this; there was something in the act of opening entirely new, barely imagined frontiers for a child that reminded him of magic’s essence.
“It’s just…hard to wrap my mind around,” said the muggle mother of a recently identified witch.
“Certainly,” replied Albus calmly.
“You see…” the mother rose and paced around the small parlor. “Well, I was raised in the Church of England. I’ve always been told that witchcraft is evil.”
Albus looked thoughtful. “You know, I’ve always thought of magic as more of a confirmation for religion than something to threaten it.”
The woman looked up quickly. “How do you mean?”
“Well, every day we seek and explain logically all forms of previous mysteries. The how and why of the way things work. But magic, you see, cannot be explained or even proven, on the elemental level. I can show its effects to you…I could conjure all sorts of things, perform any number of transformations…but it is impossible to tell you how magic works or why. A bit like love, to my mind. And aren’t these things…these impossible, improbable mysteries such as love and magic…the very fingerprints of any god?
As he left that day, the small witch-child took a corner of his woolen robes in her fisted hand. He looked into her eyes, validated, finally, in their second sight, and his heart was glad.
Then the child offered him what she had to give in thanks, and he took slightly sticky yellow candy from her palm, and tasted lemon drops for the first time.
And as the sharp burst of flavor and the power of an all too familiar citrus scent washed over him, Albus was reminded of all that can be learned and given in every exchange, in every fingerprint of the design.
He had watched the lists, as a decade wrapped around his life and then continued on. Watched, but had never found the boy’s name on any of them. And Albus found that he lacked the courage to inquire too deeply about the absence. The deep river of their lives had diverged, and he feared the currents that might run in her life now. He feared the question that each possible answer would bring, and so he ceased scanning the lists for her offspring.
One day, though, as fate would have it, in his first year as Headmaster of Hogwarts, two girls showed up at the welcoming feast. Scarcely eleven months apart in age, entering first year together, chestnut haired, green eyed and brown as the earth they came and walked into Albus’s heart as surely as if he’d laid a path for them. Which perhaps he had.
~~**~~
The post of Transfiguration professor vacated by Albus when he assumed the mantle of Headmaster had proven difficult to fill. Finally, two days into term, two candidates arrived for interviewing.
The first one to walk into Albus’s office was a young woman straight of back and tidy to severity. Every button on her black traveling cloak was fastened, up to the high neck ending below her sharp chin. As she took her hat off, Albus saw that her hair was tightly controlled in a high knot on her head. The only detail to relieve the stern seriousness of her demeanor was a sprig of thistle pinned to her lapel.
He rose and offered his hand. “Albus Dumbledore. Pleased to meet you…”
“Minerva McGonagall.” She shook his hand firmly and took the armchair he gestured her to.
“Minerva…a goddess name,” he said conversationally.
“Yes, well,” she began, “my mother had an inexplicable fondness for Roman goddesses. A good Scottish woman, if you can imagine.”
Albus blinked.
A knock sounded at the oak door, and the Head of Hufflepuff walked in. “Headmaster, those two Greek girls will not keep shoes on their feet. I’ve already had complaints from three professors about it, and the ghosts are constantly delivering their leather sandals to my office after they’ve been forgotten in a classroom somewhere. They only just stare at me when I admonish them about having to wear proper shoes.”
Albus smiled. “Oh, I’ve always found going barefoot to be good for the health.” He turned to the woman. “Don’t you think so, Miss McGonagall?”
She straightened her collar reflexively and knitted black eyebrows together. “Er…well…”
“Excellent,” he went on, as if something had been decided. “It will straighten itself out, my good man. Hogwarts’ halls can be very cold in the winter. Will you please have the house elves send us up a nice lunch?”
“Shall I send up the other one, then?” asked the wispy man.
“No, I think not. There is no need. Tell him the position has been filled.”
The door closed and Albus turned to the woman. “Now then, Professor McGonagall…”
“But you haven’t even asked me any questions. You’ve seen no references,” she interrupted, flustered.
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her silently for a moment. “You see, Minerva…may I call you Minerva?…good. You see, Minerva, once in my younger days I was given a goddess of love to teach me the lessons of the heart. Now, again right when needed, a goddess of war shows up to sip my earl grey tea.”
Minerva’s tea cup rattled in its saucer. Albus beamed at her.
“I may be older now, but I can still spot providence when I see it.” He sobered, and turned serious blue eyes upon her. “There is war coming, Minerva. A long period of darkness. I need a strong front.”
She looked at him steadily for a few silent moments. “You may trust me.”
“I know.”
~
__________________________________________________________________________
A few words...
I noticed that after aff\'s crash, there are many typos and strange breaks in the text of this story that were not there in the beginning. I confess that I am too lazy to go through and fix them all. I do apologize!
I\'d like to thank all the reveiwers so far for this story...I\'ve loved every one of them!!
And to my dear reviewer, Rubberduck...Fear not! I like Albus too much not to give him a happy (by my standards, anyway) ending! I\'ve got a couple more chapters to go, and you\'ll know when it\'s over. Thank you, your reviews are spectacular.
“It’s just…hard to wrap my mind around,” said the muggle mother of a recently identified witch.
“Certainly,” replied Albus calmly.
“You see…” the mother rose and paced around the small parlor. “Well, I was raised in the Church of England. I’ve always been told that witchcraft is evil.”
Albus looked thoughtful. “You know, I’ve always thought of magic as more of a confirmation for religion than something to threaten it.”
The woman looked up quickly. “How do you mean?”
“Well, every day we seek and explain logically all forms of previous mysteries. The how and why of the way things work. But magic, you see, cannot be explained or even proven, on the elemental level. I can show its effects to you…I could conjure all sorts of things, perform any number of transformations…but it is impossible to tell you how magic works or why. A bit like love, to my mind. And aren’t these things…these impossible, improbable mysteries such as love and magic…the very fingerprints of any god?
As he left that day, the small witch-child took a corner of his woolen robes in her fisted hand. He looked into her eyes, validated, finally, in their second sight, and his heart was glad.
Then the child offered him what she had to give in thanks, and he took slightly sticky yellow candy from her palm, and tasted lemon drops for the first time.
And as the sharp burst of flavor and the power of an all too familiar citrus scent washed over him, Albus was reminded of all that can be learned and given in every exchange, in every fingerprint of the design.
He had watched the lists, as a decade wrapped around his life and then continued on. Watched, but had never found the boy’s name on any of them. And Albus found that he lacked the courage to inquire too deeply about the absence. The deep river of their lives had diverged, and he feared the currents that might run in her life now. He feared the question that each possible answer would bring, and so he ceased scanning the lists for her offspring.
One day, though, as fate would have it, in his first year as Headmaster of Hogwarts, two girls showed up at the welcoming feast. Scarcely eleven months apart in age, entering first year together, chestnut haired, green eyed and brown as the earth they came and walked into Albus’s heart as surely as if he’d laid a path for them. Which perhaps he had.
~~**~~
The post of Transfiguration professor vacated by Albus when he assumed the mantle of Headmaster had proven difficult to fill. Finally, two days into term, two candidates arrived for interviewing.
The first one to walk into Albus’s office was a young woman straight of back and tidy to severity. Every button on her black traveling cloak was fastened, up to the high neck ending below her sharp chin. As she took her hat off, Albus saw that her hair was tightly controlled in a high knot on her head. The only detail to relieve the stern seriousness of her demeanor was a sprig of thistle pinned to her lapel.
He rose and offered his hand. “Albus Dumbledore. Pleased to meet you…”
“Minerva McGonagall.” She shook his hand firmly and took the armchair he gestured her to.
“Minerva…a goddess name,” he said conversationally.
“Yes, well,” she began, “my mother had an inexplicable fondness for Roman goddesses. A good Scottish woman, if you can imagine.”
Albus blinked.
A knock sounded at the oak door, and the Head of Hufflepuff walked in. “Headmaster, those two Greek girls will not keep shoes on their feet. I’ve already had complaints from three professors about it, and the ghosts are constantly delivering their leather sandals to my office after they’ve been forgotten in a classroom somewhere. They only just stare at me when I admonish them about having to wear proper shoes.”
Albus smiled. “Oh, I’ve always found going barefoot to be good for the health.” He turned to the woman. “Don’t you think so, Miss McGonagall?”
She straightened her collar reflexively and knitted black eyebrows together. “Er…well…”
“Excellent,” he went on, as if something had been decided. “It will straighten itself out, my good man. Hogwarts’ halls can be very cold in the winter. Will you please have the house elves send us up a nice lunch?”
“Shall I send up the other one, then?” asked the wispy man.
“No, I think not. There is no need. Tell him the position has been filled.”
The door closed and Albus turned to the woman. “Now then, Professor McGonagall…”
“But you haven’t even asked me any questions. You’ve seen no references,” she interrupted, flustered.
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her silently for a moment. “You see, Minerva…may I call you Minerva?…good. You see, Minerva, once in my younger days I was given a goddess of love to teach me the lessons of the heart. Now, again right when needed, a goddess of war shows up to sip my earl grey tea.”
Minerva’s tea cup rattled in its saucer. Albus beamed at her.
“I may be older now, but I can still spot providence when I see it.” He sobered, and turned serious blue eyes upon her. “There is war coming, Minerva. A long period of darkness. I need a strong front.”
She looked at him steadily for a few silent moments. “You may trust me.”
“I know.”
~
__________________________________________________________________________
A few words...
I noticed that after aff\'s crash, there are many typos and strange breaks in the text of this story that were not there in the beginning. I confess that I am too lazy to go through and fix them all. I do apologize!
I\'d like to thank all the reveiwers so far for this story...I\'ve loved every one of them!!
And to my dear reviewer, Rubberduck...Fear not! I like Albus too much not to give him a happy (by my standards, anyway) ending! I\'ve got a couple more chapters to go, and you\'ll know when it\'s over. Thank you, your reviews are spectacular.