22 Sept 2012
Saturday, lunch time
Hogsmeade home of Judith Eastman

A wooden coffer sat on the table in the home of Judith Eastman. It was unadorned other than two well-crafted clasps on either side that held the thing closed. It was hefty in size and weight, and heavy with import. The trio stood around it: Knox Greyfriar, Judith Eastman were both esteemed of stature and career, but Minerva McGonagall surpassed them both. It was of greatest import that the three had mutual respect - Knox could not have bore this task if the case were anything else.

Following his conspiracy with Judith the night before, Knox had owled Minerva straight away with all urgency and she had acquiesced to come despite the message being vague and ominous.

After greetings and hospitalities offered and accepted, Knox proceeded. He removed his hat, put it in his pocket, and then moved to the coffer. He undid the clasps with a snap - not even magically locked were they - and lifted the lid away. Inside, laying on top of one another were dozens of wands.

There were forty-one of all designs and woods. There were short ones and long ones. Most were in good condition, but some were damaged. Not a single one belonged to Knox.

Judith Eastman's house was not typical of the way Hogsmeade looked. A 20th-century structure, it was built on a hillside at the edge of the village, laid out with its eastern end facing uphill, abutting the street, while its western end facing the view of the Scottish countryside. The style of the house made it an unnatural setting for this conversation, being well lit, airy, and open as it was, with those tall windows facing west.

The living room and dining room were connected in an open plan, located down a staircase from the entrance to the house, but with their ceiling almost two stories tall, and the windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. The walls - what few solid ones there were - were painted white, sparsely adorned with artwork and family photos. In one corner, on the eastern wall, was a television, with the BBC playing on mute.

The dining table was long, a solid slab of wood. On one end were the wands. On the other, salmon in a rich curry with veggies and rice. The contrast could not have been more pronounced.

The home's owner made her way down to the box of wands, brushing a fleck of ginger cat hair off her sweater. The collection of wands, so many in one place, looked more frightful in person than she had imagined.

Once upon a time, a summons from Knox Greyfriar had been a happy occasion. When he had been her replacement for Binns as History of Magic Professor their meetings were of lesson plans over tea and shared experiences at mealtimes. When she chose him as Head of Hufflepuff, their discussions became more centered on matters of administration and leadership, but Greyfriar's council was wise and welcomed. Even after retiring from Hogwarts and passing to him the mantle of Headmaster, they remained connected through her position on the Hogwarts Governors.

Now, several years later, while she was taking a second stab at lightening her load after a second stint as Headmistress, Minerva dredded owls from the castle. A summons from Knox Greyfriar was rarely pleasant, though only for circumstance, not personality. She still found Headmaster Greyfriar to be an excellent leader and a decent human being, but he rarely summoned her for things as frivolous as an unruly student these days.

The setting only added to Minerva's apprehension. Unusual was the usual in Hogsmeade Village, but even so the home of Judith Eastman stuck out like a hippogriff in a henhouse. The modern technology, the electricity made the traditionalist witch slightly uncomfortable. Though Judy had been her friend for quite some time, she didn't often come to her home. It made quite a stark contrast to Urquart House, where sometimes patches of snow could be seen in the middle of July thanks to her resident Sky Demon.

Still, when the Headmaster of Hogwarts requests an audience, the Chair of the Hogwarts School Board was required to answer. Her attire (a black velvet pointed witch's hat and deep red robes) clashed with the environment uncomfortably where she stood looking down into a box of wands.

Her features displayed her confusion as she leaned down, getting a closer look. "Well, you might as well tell me what this is all about," she said after a pause. The wands, on closer inspection, were obviously not new, but Minerva confessed to having little knowledge of wandlore and couldn't deduce much else.

It was possible they had been found in Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement perhaps. It wasn't unheard of for a student to lose a wand in the vast castle and many wands had been lost during the Battle of Hogwarts, but Minerva did not think that was the case here. If it were that simple they wouldn't be meeting in the most muggle-looking building to be found. Something was going on, she just didn't have enough information to see where it was heading.

Having told Judith the tale once recently, they came more easily the second time.

"Professor, they are the wands of those taken by Death Eaters in the First War," he said gravely but resigned, really. "When things began to end, I took them and have had them ever since. I was a young man, I am not proud of it. I thought nobody knew but two nights ago I received an ultimatum from an anonymous source - resign from Hogwarts or all would come to light."

There were few in the world who knew that Knox had begun his adult life apprenticed as a Healer. Fewer yet had discovered that he had Death Eater cousins on some branch of his family. The scantest few knew that he had, back then, been all but forced to use his novice healing skills in the service of those horrible people. The Dark Lord had been (temporarily) vanquished, the Death Eaters were routed, and the dust settled. Somehow, nobody had noticed him.

He'd be noticed now.

Judy stood over the wands, staring like the very concept was foreign to her - a casual observer might think that was so, but for the one on her waist. In fact, she was coming to grips with what they truly meant, the people and the names associated with each.

Slowly but surely she stood back, her back and knees straightening, another strand of cat hair coming off her leggings (her felines had made the purportedly black article of clothing about as orange as anything else). Her eyes setting on Knox, she was fully engaged by the time he was done thinking.

"The first priority is to restore these wands to their rightful owners. There would need to be a trustee, someone credible, unimpeachable," she explained, with the implication being clear.

"We've agreed that Knox will come clean with the truth, the whole truth. The provenance of the wands would make itself obvious anyway, when they are returned."

It was easier for her to delve into the plan of action, being emotionally one step removed. Easier also to think of the food, whose pleasant scent wafted into her nostrils.

Minerva did not respond right away, there was too much to unpack for immediate words. There was both too much and too little said all at once and it would take Minerva some time to process the information - perhaps quite a bit of time.

Instead, she pulled her own wand from within her robes and studied it for the first time in a long time. Nine and one half inches of beautiful fir, stiff with a dragon heartstring core. Highly polished, it gleamed in her friend's steady electric lighting. It had served her faithfully for sixty-five years. Her wand was an extension of her person, as integral to her existence as any vital organ. She could not imagine being parted with it for three minutes and here in front of her were forty-one that had been kept hidden for over three decades.

As she organized her thoughts, she pointed her wand at the box, the bulbed handle fitting perfectly in her grip, and those in the box flew gracefully into the air. They made one slow lap around the table, then settled side-by-side gently on the wooden surface with every handle facing the same direction. Then she made a slow circuit around the table, examining each one carefully. When she reached the area with Judy's beautifully prepared meal, she paused and her features softened for a fraction of a moment, then she continued on.

As she did this, she finally spoke, her tone seething with suppressed anger, "I have several questions,"

"I'll skip over the obvious - such as why you didn't come forward sooner or how you came to be in possession of these wands," Minerva was known as the General of Hogwarts for her efforts during the Second War, but even she had done little to help during the First. Not everyone had led the sheltered life she had been gifted at Hogwarts. Everyone was entitled to their secrets, "I'm sure you'll be answering those questions in detail soon enough anyway,"

"Instead I'll skip ahead: what exactly are you planning on doing next? What is your role in all of this, Judy? And, more importantly, what do you expect of me?" She remained calm, looking between the pair. She was angry, but she knew these two, she was willing to give them an opportunity to explain.

The disappointment from Minerva McGonagall was exactly what was warranted. In some way, it was almost an honor to be held in enough regard to earn her admonishment. He'd admired the Professor for many years. She may not have wished it to be so, but there was no other that he knew of who could help him do right.

"I shall tell you everything," Knox promised as he slid his hands into his pockets. Metaphorically the wands were now fully out of his secretive grasp. He'd kept them safe but prisoner all these years and he'd be glad never to have or touch them again. But at this moment, they were in no one's custody, not unless Professor McGonagall agreed.

"Judy has been my confidant in the last twenty-four hours. She's helped me get my head on straight and we are in agreement. Blackmail or not, the time is long overdue." Why use few words when many will do? It was Knox's way of thinking, of taking up space, of giving import to himself.

"I ask you for two horrible favors: First, to be the one to these wands to the national museum for identification. Second, and I admit our plan is more than you'll be willing to do - encourage the Governors not to accept the resignation I intend to proffer."

He looked to Judy, instead of letting his gaze linger on Professor McGonagall or the wands. The latter request was audacious, but the ultimatum of the blackmail could not be cowed to. No matter the depth of Knox's guilt, he resented the criminal approach.

Minerva's anger was understandable, perhaps more righteous than the quickness to forgive that defined Judy's reaction the previous evening.

"My opinion is that given Knox was only tangentially involved in the first war, he deserves a chance to continue in his path. Shame is its own punishment, a quarter-century of it at that," Judy stated after the man was finished. "It has to be coupled with the apology and atonement, but I think letting his career go up in smoke is just... undue."

She took to pacing, hands moving up and down as she walked and talked.

"If you agree that he should have the best chance to stay, then we need to bring the resignation as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more of a chance there is for... foreign influences to come into the process, noise about the hat and the curriculum and next thing you know this isn't about the wands at all. The Muggles say that for every day that you wait to resign, you have to wait another year to come back."

Moving from describing her opinions, back to the battle plan, she sounded more comfortable and her hand gestures got smaller and crisper.

"Setting Knox aside, you'll have to go hide in an igloo in Antarctica for a few months or they'll pull you back to Hogwarts by the earlobe the moment he's gone."

Minerva shook her head in denial and slid into one of the dining chairs surrounding the wand-laden table. It was a relief knowing Judy wasn't some accomplice in this mess and Knox's direct explanation, without evasion, went a long way in cooling Minerva's ire. Not enough to tamp it completely, but perhaps enough to consider the plan laid out before her.

It was true that she expected too much of others, but those in the profession of teaching children should be held to the highest standards and their leader should be without reproach. On the other hand, Albus Dumbledore had been the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever known and his past was far more stained than Greyfriar's. What Knox had done was distasteful, perhaps, but not explicitly illegal.

"I agree," She said finally, "A resignation at this time is out of the question and I do not believe the punishment would fit the crime in this case," Judith's comment about Minerva returning aside, Hogwarts couldn't afford a change in leadership at the moment - there was too much unrest with the Nothingpuff situation and Ignan Storm, the person best suited to take Greyfriar's place, was ineligible for the post.

"Though how we'll persuade the others not to sack you I've no guesses - some still prefer Snark's stance on werewolves; not to mention this fiasco with the Sword and the Hat," She said flatly, a simple statement of fact, devoid of judgment. She had agreed to the plan, further antagonizing was petty and unhelpful. Besides, Minerva and the governors were more to blame for the theft of Gryffindor's Sword than the Headmaster.

"Still, we'll do what we must," She said, waving her wand again and sending those on the table back into the box. After her initial examination, looking at the forty-one made her uncomfortable. "I'll call an emergency meeting of the board and take possession of the wands,"

"You can hand me your resignation then, and I'll move to reject it. Some are going to vote for your sacking no matter what we do. If you are owed any favors, Headmaster, you might consider calling them in," Minerva's influence stretched far and a few of the governors would vote as she did simply because they trusted her judgment. That number, however, was not in the majority.

Greyfriar had let his head bow, appropriately and genuinely sheepish, as the two witches volleyed his fate between them for a little. He'd made a hash of it all, to say the least, and these two were his only broom out of it. They'd articulated his argument in favor of saving his own skin better than he would, if he'd tried. All the better they'd decided between themselves that it was worth helping him.

He only really objected to the thing with that blasted hat, which he was sure was no fault of his own at all. Not the time to quibble blame on that, though.

"You can't know how grateful I am, professor," he said to Minerva. His thanks to Judith had already been paid, and he'd pay them on for many years he was sure.

He looked over the wands again. There had been times later in that first year that he'd studied them, making note of all their properties. He'd written and burned several attempts at listing them. But he didn't know how to determine a wand's core or wood. He knew even less how to find out who a wand belonged to. Years turned into years into years.

"I'll write a retelling of everything I know about the wands and where they came from. I'll have it ready by tonight. I do want to warn you both: I don't know who the blackmailer is nor what he's capable of when he finds I have not followed his directions."

As if anyone could topple the great Minerva McGonagall. But there were worse things than wands.

Judy gestured at the food with her wand.

"We can't let it get cold," she reminded, floating the curry and the rice onto three plates.

"We'll need to look at all the governors, try to identify what might bring them onside and what could turn them away. Prepare for a little give and take. Figure out your own red lines too."

She allowed the smell of food to really fill her nostrils. It wasn't easy to cook well, but she'd had a good track record.

"As for the blackmailer, I think you'll have to play defense for a while. Bend but don't break, wait for him to overplay his hand. That's really what the resignation amounts to - bending but not breaking," she cut herself off before she could make the American football analogy explicit and confuse her British listeners.

"Red or white?"

Judy's insistence on serving a meal seemed like something a Hufflepuff would do, but it was truly a move worthy of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. It was difficult to maintain a righteous anger when sharing food. Still, Minerva couldn't seem to muster an appetite. As for the wine, she felt as if she could drain one of Rubeus Hagrid's giant-sized mugs full. "Red," she responded with an uncharacteristic eagerness.

The true Hufflepuff in the room was Knox Greyfriar. His career, reputation, and legacy was in very real jeopardy, yet his concern was for his companions' safety. It was for primarily that very reason that Knox made an excellent Headmaster, despite hiccups experienced in his past.

"The blackmailer does not interest me at the moment," She said, waving off Knox's gratitude and both of their concern, "The reason for the resignation is an admittance of wrong-doing and a desire to begin making amends. Any other reason is unacceptable,"

"I'll keep the wands at Urquart House tonight and personally deliver them to the museum tomorrow morning along with whatever information you can provide, Headmaster," she continued, "It will likely take time to identify the owners, though I'm no wandsmith, so we'll need to move quickly with the Governors to keep them from hearing the news elsewhere," She would also see that the wands were given every protection possible - she did not fully trust the museum after allowing a relic from the founding of Hogwarts to be stolen.

"But in truth the Governors are just the sphinx's first riddle - when the public hears of this there will be an uproar," a pause, then, "What we need is a great victory for Hogwarts, something to bolster public opinion and perhaps this unfortunate situation won't turn into a scandal,"