A Matter of Black and White
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
35
Views:
3,919
Reviews:
57
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
35
Views:
3,919
Reviews:
57
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.
01-Dear Dumbledore
DISCLAIMER: This story is based upon the works of JK Rowling. Anything you recognize is hers. I’m making no money off this. I’m just having some fun adding my own little corner to the amazing world she has created.
AN: I had the idea and many of my notes for this story shortly before HBP came out. As I’m sure lots of other SS fanfic authors can understand, the book threw some wrenches in my plans, and I pushed A Matter of Black and White aside as a lost cause. For better or worse, though, the idea stuck with me, and I realized that much of my idea worked almost as well or even better within the frame of HBP. I’m finally taking the plunge and going ahead with it. My story takes place during and after Book 6, so be prepared for spoilers if for some strange and tragic reason you have yet to get through HBP. Obviously, having a work of fanfic taking place concurrently with one of the published novels is going to push the canonicity of the piece into a gray area. While I’ve truly been doing my best to follow canon, I’ve come to think of AMoB&W as part of an AU. Die-hard canon thumpers, be warned: You might want to go elsewhere.
If you’re still with me (thanks), I hope you enjoy my dive into fanfic. I’d appreciate your feedback. If you're coming back to this story, I think you'll be excited to find that I've finally figured out to do italics. No more asterisk explosions! ***********
* * *
CHAPTER 1: DEAR DUMBLEDORE
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,
I understand that Professor Hrothgar is retiring from his
position as Ancient Runes teacher at Hogwarts. I’m sure
he will be missed. I met him once at the International
Rebus and Rune Conference in Sweden. He has had a
fine scholastic career.
Recent events have compelled me to leave Switzerland
and return to Britain. I believe I can be of great service
to you.
Sincerely,
Aurora Bernard
Aurora reread the letter carefully. It certainly wasn’t the most direct introduction ever, but it would have to do. She tucked the letter and her CV into an envelope and reached for a stick of red sealing wax. After holding the tip to the flame of the candle on her desk, she pressed the melted substance to the back of the envelope, sealing it shut. Then she pulled open her desk drawer, now empty of everything save a heavy, tarnished ring. Although it would have slipped easily onto her finger, she did not put it on as she took it out. Rather, she used the thumb and index fingers of both her hands to grasp the thick band of metal as she firmly pressed the flat head of jewelry into the soft sealing wax. It left the impression of a Runespoor whose three serpent necks were wrapped tightly around the body of an anguished lion.
Well, if that didn’t get her a meeting with Dumbledore, nothing would.
Aurora stood up from her desk and crossed the room, which was now barren except for a generic set of office furniture which had come with the place and several trunks filled to the brim with books and a collection of white robes. She stopped at the windowsill where a reddish owl stood. Tying the letter to the owl’s leg, she said, “Bring the reply to the Leaky Cauldron in London, Lilitu. We won’t be coming back here anymore.”
The owl blinked knowingly and then took off out the window. Aurora watched as the owl soared over the gothic spire of Bern’s Münster before turning around to survey the empty office. With a wave of her wand, the trunk clapped shut. Well, she thought, there was no going back now.
* * *
Like the gray street outside, the pub of the Leaky Cauldron was virtually empty. The lack of business meant that Aurora had not endeared herself with the proprietor, Tom, when she had taken a corner table without so much as ordering a Butterbeer.
No, better to have full faculty of her senses for this encounter.
She glanced down to her lap to peel open the scroll of Hogwarts parchment that had been Dumbledore’s brief reply:
Dear Miss Bernard,
I am intrigued to learn more about your background.
Please meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 1:00 p.m.
on 9 July.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Aurora was uncertain how to interpret the Hogwarts’ Headmaster’s very short response to her own vague letter, but at least she had gotten a reply. The rumors flying in the Daily Prophet about Dumbledore’s hand in the change of government made it sound as if hiring a new Runes teacher was really the least of his worries.
She sighed. It was a couple of minutes before 1:00, and she could not decide whether the hands on the pub’s clock were moving too fast or too slowly. If she wanted to escape back to Bern and beg for her job back, she was running out of time. If she needed the arrival of Dumbledore to make her commit to this mad, mad scheme, he had better arrive soon.
Then the clock on the wall finally chimed a tinny 1:00, and the door from Diagon Alley creaked opened to reveal a tall old wizard with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.
Aurora stood up and met him halfway across the room. “Headmaster Dumbledore? I’m Aurora Bernard.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Bernard, I rather guessed you had to be,” said the wizened old man pleasantly, nodding at the empty chairs all around them.
Despite the lack of business in the pub, Aurora was conscious that they were not alone, for she could feel the eyes of Tom and a couple of old men at the counter boring into her. Dumbledore obviously attracted attention wherever he went.
“Perhaps we could go somewhere more private?” she asked, nodding toward the stairs that led to her room. Verdammt, Aurora thought to herself. She had better hope he didn’t take that the wrong way—nothing like propositioning a future employer to make a first impression.
But Dumbledore merely nodded and followed her up the narrow passage, down the hall, and into her cobweb-trimmed room, which had obviously been neither rented nor cleaned in the weeks prior to her arrival. Once she had shut the door securely, she gestured for him to sit at a rickety old table and then proceeded to seat herself across from him.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Headmaster.”
“Of course, your letter naturally intrigued me as to the kind of service you could perform for me,” he said lightly…so lightly that Aurora wondered whether he had truly gotten the gist of her message. “And, as it turns out, I was already compelled to be away from Hogwarts this week.”
When she did not answer, he started fishing in his pockets.
“Let’s see...”
He withdrew his hand from his robes and set on the table two rather disoriented spiders and a linty sherbet lemon.
“No, no, that’s not it.”
He dug around in his pocket again and this time withdrew the letter she had sent him. It was still within its envelope, though the broken seal now stuck only to the flap.
“Ah, here we are. Yes, very impressive record, Miss Bernard, or perhaps I should say Mistress Bernard—yes, here it is—‘certified Runic Mistress from Das Institut der Magischen Linguistik,’” he said, reading from her CV.
Aurora grimaced slightly. As proud as she was of her academic accomplishments, she hated titles, and this one sounded absolutely sordid in modern English, which carried way too many sexual connotations in the feminine equivalent of “master.” “Actually, Headmaster, please call me Aurora.”
“Of course,” he replied with a smile, “but only if you’ll call me Albus,” he added with almost a flirtatious twinkle.
“With pleasure,” she answered. She hadn’t expected the formidable old wizard to reciprocate the familiarities.
“Yes, impressive indeed, Aurora.” He read some more from her CV. “‘Prizewinner at last year’s International Rebus and Rune Conference.’ Professor Hrothgar, by the way, remembers your paper quite well—‘Shape Symbology and the Rune.’ He also informed me that you were the youngest witch ever to receive the prize. You were thirty at the time, I believe?”
“Twenty-nine, actually.”
“And you, of course, belong to the Holdahexe?” he said. He took a second look at the white robes and stole that were signs of her membership in the elite group of primarily Continental witches devoted to studying ancient forms of magic. “I’m afraid I’ve only had the good fortune of meeting one other Holdahexe—Helga Albrecht. But I’m afraid she was probably long before your time. She’s probably long retired.”
“Oh, no,” she said, smiling at the thought of the eccentric old witch. “Once a Holdahexe, always a Holdahexe. She still raises Kneazles. They’ve begun taking over her house. There’s never anywhere for visitors to sit, there are so many of them.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I seem to recall having a case of the sneezes when I spoke to her.”
This is very fine and good, Albus, Aurora thought. You’ve established I’m not a fraud, but let’s move on to more important things.
“And an excellent career in Bern—fellowship at Das Institut and several prizes for outstanding lectureships.” He studied her for a moment. “I must say that I’m puzzled as to why you would want to leave Switzerland.”
“Let’s just say the Swiss climate didn’t suit me.” The political climate, more like it: ‘We’ll just stay nice and cozy and neutral while the darkest wizard the world has ever known tries to take over. Can’t really be that bad as long as his Death Eaters are filling our goblins’ numbered bank vaults with stacks of Galleons.’
“And you are, of course, a Beauxbatons graduate. Madame Maxime speaks very highly of you.”
Aurora gave a slight start. She had not expected him to speak to her former Headmistress. Then again, commendation from Madame Maxime wasn’t exactly worth very much. “You realize, Albus,” she said with a wry smile, “that that doesn’t mean very much? Madame Maxime tends to recall all of her alumni were top of their respective class.”
Dumbledore looked rightly amused at her candor. “Oh, she did say you were an outstanding student. I’m sure no one would deny that. But we were not speaking of your academic record.”
At last, here we go.
“Madame Maxime recalled being quite surprised and, I daresay, relieved once you’d started at Beauxbatons—a year late I understand. She thought you very well behaved….”
Well-behaved? There went Madame Maxime’s exaggeratory praise again.
“…Given your association with this.” Dumbledore lifted the envelope from her letter and pointed to the broken seal. There was that horrid snake strangling that wretched lion again. “I believe this is your parents’ insignia?”
“Yes, I thought that would get your attention,” Aurora replied grimly. “Seeing as how you killed them.”
* * *
Thanks for reading. Care to review?
AN: I had the idea and many of my notes for this story shortly before HBP came out. As I’m sure lots of other SS fanfic authors can understand, the book threw some wrenches in my plans, and I pushed A Matter of Black and White aside as a lost cause. For better or worse, though, the idea stuck with me, and I realized that much of my idea worked almost as well or even better within the frame of HBP. I’m finally taking the plunge and going ahead with it. My story takes place during and after Book 6, so be prepared for spoilers if for some strange and tragic reason you have yet to get through HBP. Obviously, having a work of fanfic taking place concurrently with one of the published novels is going to push the canonicity of the piece into a gray area. While I’ve truly been doing my best to follow canon, I’ve come to think of AMoB&W as part of an AU. Die-hard canon thumpers, be warned: You might want to go elsewhere.
If you’re still with me (thanks), I hope you enjoy my dive into fanfic. I’d appreciate your feedback. If you're coming back to this story, I think you'll be excited to find that I've finally figured out to do italics. No more asterisk explosions! ***********
* * *
CHAPTER 1: DEAR DUMBLEDORE
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,
I understand that Professor Hrothgar is retiring from his
position as Ancient Runes teacher at Hogwarts. I’m sure
he will be missed. I met him once at the International
Rebus and Rune Conference in Sweden. He has had a
fine scholastic career.
Recent events have compelled me to leave Switzerland
and return to Britain. I believe I can be of great service
to you.
Sincerely,
Aurora Bernard
Aurora reread the letter carefully. It certainly wasn’t the most direct introduction ever, but it would have to do. She tucked the letter and her CV into an envelope and reached for a stick of red sealing wax. After holding the tip to the flame of the candle on her desk, she pressed the melted substance to the back of the envelope, sealing it shut. Then she pulled open her desk drawer, now empty of everything save a heavy, tarnished ring. Although it would have slipped easily onto her finger, she did not put it on as she took it out. Rather, she used the thumb and index fingers of both her hands to grasp the thick band of metal as she firmly pressed the flat head of jewelry into the soft sealing wax. It left the impression of a Runespoor whose three serpent necks were wrapped tightly around the body of an anguished lion.
Well, if that didn’t get her a meeting with Dumbledore, nothing would.
Aurora stood up from her desk and crossed the room, which was now barren except for a generic set of office furniture which had come with the place and several trunks filled to the brim with books and a collection of white robes. She stopped at the windowsill where a reddish owl stood. Tying the letter to the owl’s leg, she said, “Bring the reply to the Leaky Cauldron in London, Lilitu. We won’t be coming back here anymore.”
The owl blinked knowingly and then took off out the window. Aurora watched as the owl soared over the gothic spire of Bern’s Münster before turning around to survey the empty office. With a wave of her wand, the trunk clapped shut. Well, she thought, there was no going back now.
* * *
Like the gray street outside, the pub of the Leaky Cauldron was virtually empty. The lack of business meant that Aurora had not endeared herself with the proprietor, Tom, when she had taken a corner table without so much as ordering a Butterbeer.
No, better to have full faculty of her senses for this encounter.
She glanced down to her lap to peel open the scroll of Hogwarts parchment that had been Dumbledore’s brief reply:
Dear Miss Bernard,
I am intrigued to learn more about your background.
Please meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 1:00 p.m.
on 9 July.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Aurora was uncertain how to interpret the Hogwarts’ Headmaster’s very short response to her own vague letter, but at least she had gotten a reply. The rumors flying in the Daily Prophet about Dumbledore’s hand in the change of government made it sound as if hiring a new Runes teacher was really the least of his worries.
She sighed. It was a couple of minutes before 1:00, and she could not decide whether the hands on the pub’s clock were moving too fast or too slowly. If she wanted to escape back to Bern and beg for her job back, she was running out of time. If she needed the arrival of Dumbledore to make her commit to this mad, mad scheme, he had better arrive soon.
Then the clock on the wall finally chimed a tinny 1:00, and the door from Diagon Alley creaked opened to reveal a tall old wizard with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.
Aurora stood up and met him halfway across the room. “Headmaster Dumbledore? I’m Aurora Bernard.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Bernard, I rather guessed you had to be,” said the wizened old man pleasantly, nodding at the empty chairs all around them.
Despite the lack of business in the pub, Aurora was conscious that they were not alone, for she could feel the eyes of Tom and a couple of old men at the counter boring into her. Dumbledore obviously attracted attention wherever he went.
“Perhaps we could go somewhere more private?” she asked, nodding toward the stairs that led to her room. Verdammt, Aurora thought to herself. She had better hope he didn’t take that the wrong way—nothing like propositioning a future employer to make a first impression.
But Dumbledore merely nodded and followed her up the narrow passage, down the hall, and into her cobweb-trimmed room, which had obviously been neither rented nor cleaned in the weeks prior to her arrival. Once she had shut the door securely, she gestured for him to sit at a rickety old table and then proceeded to seat herself across from him.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Headmaster.”
“Of course, your letter naturally intrigued me as to the kind of service you could perform for me,” he said lightly…so lightly that Aurora wondered whether he had truly gotten the gist of her message. “And, as it turns out, I was already compelled to be away from Hogwarts this week.”
When she did not answer, he started fishing in his pockets.
“Let’s see...”
He withdrew his hand from his robes and set on the table two rather disoriented spiders and a linty sherbet lemon.
“No, no, that’s not it.”
He dug around in his pocket again and this time withdrew the letter she had sent him. It was still within its envelope, though the broken seal now stuck only to the flap.
“Ah, here we are. Yes, very impressive record, Miss Bernard, or perhaps I should say Mistress Bernard—yes, here it is—‘certified Runic Mistress from Das Institut der Magischen Linguistik,’” he said, reading from her CV.
Aurora grimaced slightly. As proud as she was of her academic accomplishments, she hated titles, and this one sounded absolutely sordid in modern English, which carried way too many sexual connotations in the feminine equivalent of “master.” “Actually, Headmaster, please call me Aurora.”
“Of course,” he replied with a smile, “but only if you’ll call me Albus,” he added with almost a flirtatious twinkle.
“With pleasure,” she answered. She hadn’t expected the formidable old wizard to reciprocate the familiarities.
“Yes, impressive indeed, Aurora.” He read some more from her CV. “‘Prizewinner at last year’s International Rebus and Rune Conference.’ Professor Hrothgar, by the way, remembers your paper quite well—‘Shape Symbology and the Rune.’ He also informed me that you were the youngest witch ever to receive the prize. You were thirty at the time, I believe?”
“Twenty-nine, actually.”
“And you, of course, belong to the Holdahexe?” he said. He took a second look at the white robes and stole that were signs of her membership in the elite group of primarily Continental witches devoted to studying ancient forms of magic. “I’m afraid I’ve only had the good fortune of meeting one other Holdahexe—Helga Albrecht. But I’m afraid she was probably long before your time. She’s probably long retired.”
“Oh, no,” she said, smiling at the thought of the eccentric old witch. “Once a Holdahexe, always a Holdahexe. She still raises Kneazles. They’ve begun taking over her house. There’s never anywhere for visitors to sit, there are so many of them.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I seem to recall having a case of the sneezes when I spoke to her.”
This is very fine and good, Albus, Aurora thought. You’ve established I’m not a fraud, but let’s move on to more important things.
“And an excellent career in Bern—fellowship at Das Institut and several prizes for outstanding lectureships.” He studied her for a moment. “I must say that I’m puzzled as to why you would want to leave Switzerland.”
“Let’s just say the Swiss climate didn’t suit me.” The political climate, more like it: ‘We’ll just stay nice and cozy and neutral while the darkest wizard the world has ever known tries to take over. Can’t really be that bad as long as his Death Eaters are filling our goblins’ numbered bank vaults with stacks of Galleons.’
“And you are, of course, a Beauxbatons graduate. Madame Maxime speaks very highly of you.”
Aurora gave a slight start. She had not expected him to speak to her former Headmistress. Then again, commendation from Madame Maxime wasn’t exactly worth very much. “You realize, Albus,” she said with a wry smile, “that that doesn’t mean very much? Madame Maxime tends to recall all of her alumni were top of their respective class.”
Dumbledore looked rightly amused at her candor. “Oh, she did say you were an outstanding student. I’m sure no one would deny that. But we were not speaking of your academic record.”
At last, here we go.
“Madame Maxime recalled being quite surprised and, I daresay, relieved once you’d started at Beauxbatons—a year late I understand. She thought you very well behaved….”
Well-behaved? There went Madame Maxime’s exaggeratory praise again.
“…Given your association with this.” Dumbledore lifted the envelope from her letter and pointed to the broken seal. There was that horrid snake strangling that wretched lion again. “I believe this is your parents’ insignia?”
“Yes, I thought that would get your attention,” Aurora replied grimly. “Seeing as how you killed them.”
* * *
Thanks for reading. Care to review?