Summer Term: Second Year

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It was a wonder just how far they were into the school year. Professor Quelmsbleigh could have sworn that it was only yesterday that he was sat in Ignan's office being showered in glowing praise from the man, and by glowing, of course he simply meant that Ignan had actually smiled when offering him the position as head of Ravenclaw. He'd learned early on that was something to be treasured, for one would not be in receipt of it regularly.

Yet here they were, on the other side of winter and running full speed ahead towards the end of year assignments. Which landed him in his current situation, sat at his desk across from Ursula Strougler, a curious young Slytherin student. Frederich had always enjoyed her presence in his classroom, she was naturally inquisitive, if perhaps a little too inquisitive for her own good at times. That natural curiosity was something he wanted to foster, so he was happy to answer her questions, or rather attempt to answer them to the best of his ability given how outlandish some of them tended to be.

"Thank you for coming to see me." He started, searching his list for her name before scratching it off with his quill. "So this session is just so that we can have a little catch up, touch base and see where you're at and if you're happy, or if you feel like you might want some support with something specific. This is also an opportunity for you to voice any concerns you might have about the next year, going forwards. I know you will be having a chat with your head of house about electives some time soon but if there is anything I can help you with in the meantime, I'd be happy to do so." The professor smiled warmly back at the girl, lacing his fingers together atop the desk. "Let's start with your end of year report. Remind me again what topic you've chosen to cover?"

History of Magic being taught by actual wixes, and not just a ghost to substitute, improved Ursula's opinion of the subject. As for Prof Quelmsbleigh himself, Ursula was still on the fence. The most interesting things about him were his name and how his bowties fluttered like moths when he changed them. As for the rest...

Well, he seemed young to be a Head of House but there could be worse candidates. He'd also been called olive skinned, although Ursula had a darker complexion, and in the younger years the students were abuzz over how many moles he actually had after mentioning a few of them. Terms like pretty boy, gawky or nebbish floated in her head but Ursula hadn't completely figured out the professor yet. Ever since them both being 'new' to Hogwarts when Ursula's Sorting and Quelmsbleigh's posting occured in the same term.

Whatever remarkable qualities Ursula was searching for in the History Professor were set aside for this term's end review. She sat primly, arms folded across her lap so left hand's fingers could lightly trace the grooves along her wooden fingers. Her Czech textiled bookbag slung over the back of the seat. Her smile was flat, in both shape and mood, because while this was an important topic Quelmsbleigh was sounding very much like one of her public guardians in his delivery.

BOR-rinng! She would be having plenty of check-ins over the summer, she didn't want to start so soon. She squinted to avoid rolling her eyes. Her pressing questions were more to do with how many moles he had and if he did anything special. Ursula was trying to grow permanent moles. Or the subjects the first years had studied she wanted to revisit.

Not so, he asked about her end of year report. "My report is about Eunon Blackwood, the most evil wizard to come out of Hufflepuff House.[1] It shows that even the Badger Cellar has its own share of špatná jablka."[2]

1.	Riffing on some Hogwarts: Legacy tidbits
2.	According to Google translate, "bad apples."

The entirety of Ravenclaw house had the likes of Gilderoy Lockhart to thank for thoughts like that. Any man who took an ounce of pride in his appearance was readily lumped in with that floppy haired twit, which was especially insulting considering the fact that Ravenclaw was supposed to be a house of integrity, of wit and of intelligence above all else. Yes Lockhart had been smart, his plot was almost genius, and it would have been had he gone undiscovered. He'd stabbed knives in the backs of greats and clambered over their mindless bodies in the pursuit of stardom, had he avoided a one way ticket to a lifetime in St Mungo's, Freddie dreaded to think how things may have ended.

At least he could say with earnest that his material was entirely his own. That might not have impressed the young girl sat across from him, but there werent many things that electrified the minds of teenage girls, at least not academically speaking. That said, he was in the buisness of attempting to engage young witches and wizards alike with his lifes work and passion, so any sullen silences or looks able rival that of medusa, weren't taken personally.

"Ah!" His face lit up at the mention of her chosen topic, hands unlinking to summon his notebook, the pages flitting on their own until the book found his desired page, presenting itself to him, floating at head height off to one side. "Yes, that's right. I remember now. An excellent choice, and quite right too." Pausing for a moment, he tried to search her face for any hint of.. upset? It was common for Slytherin students to face a fair amount of anamosity based upon their given house. "Our houses do not determine the nature of the individual, there is the potential for bad eggs, no matter the coop."

Ursula was pleased that the professor took an interest in her topic. Almost as much as if he had balked, like the others in the Badger Cellar who didn't like the bad seeds being brought up. "If you think about it, those hedge mazes he enchanted to spring up and catch travelers unawares sound quite similar to the mazes used when Hogwarts hosted both the TriWizard and TetraWizard Tournaments. If so, he should get a Chocolate Frog card for it."

The most glowing of recommendations to come from the oddly Czech accented girl. Were you famous enough to have felled a dark lord as a baby, find 12 uses of dragon's blood, or get stuck in midair when inventing the Hovering Charm?

Prof Quelmsbleigh gave another look, reminding her of that adult classic I'm concerned about you look she was getting tired of seeing. Or rather, she kept being distracted by that untamed part of his nested hair, the one unkempt part of the otherwise fastidiously groomed History teacher. Which by happenstance got her on a similar mode of thought when she responded to his comment.

"A bad egg I've read about where the eagles roost is Gilderoy Lockhart. Do you think he still signs books? I could ask to get his signature on my copy of Holidays with Hags." And if she could pass it off as an earlier signature, it might be worth a mint. Ursula tugged at her sleeve, thinking it over. "His chapter about Central European hags is wrong, though."

Ah yes. The Triwizard tournament. Really, the less he said about that hellscape of a festival the better. His sentiments were likely clear on his face when he doesn't respond. Until he managed to drag himself back into the real world and away from all of the very colorful and creative words he had to say to the sadistic person responsible for sending children to their death in the name of sport. "Hm, I suppose they do, rather." She made a good point, he very well could have been the one to charm those hedges. He'd have to look into that.

Filing away that little tidbit for later, he shook it off, flashing the girl a practiced smile, cocking his head to one side, further dislodging that unruly part of his fringe that seemed to be hellbent on defying gravity. "Ah yes, Lockhart. Unfourtunatly I'm not entirely sure he does much of anything these days, given his condition. Uhm.." A small frown began to knot in between his brows as he tried to think of the best way to break this news.

"I do rather dislike to be the bearer of bad news, but.. ah.. he didn't actually write any of his own material. So whilst it may be wrong, it isn't even really his. Well no, it just isn't his, at all." Bless the poor soul who had actually written the chapter incorrectly. "But I suppose that's what happens when you go around pinching unfinished works, when you've no literary prowess of your own."

Ursula hadn’t proved her hypothesis yet. The professor didn’t seem to know anything further. Records for Eunon Blackwood were sparse. In that he was from a muggle family and his wife an offshoot of the Black family, not easily found at the Hogwarts library. Unless as a dark wizard he was automatically lumped into the Restricted Section.

Before she would’ve asked, she saw his smile falter after the discussion about Lockhart. “I do rather dislike to be the bearer of bad news, but.. ah..”

There was a brief, wide eyed look of panic on Ursula’s face. Her young mind imagining various kinds of bad news. Could she not do her project on Blackwood? Was her hag-inspired mischief found out? She hadn’t done anything especially wicked to her peers. Did it turn out that Admittance book had really screwed up about her—?

Oh, Quelmsbleigh was still on about Lockhart. Relief and sheer hilitary of him considering this ‘bad news’ caused Ursula to throw her head back in a fit of cackling giggles, little feet kicking off the floor.

“I already know he’s a fraud, Professor!” Ursula half covered her smile with her left hand. The most gleeful expression she had since arriving to their meeting. “I’ve seen his reissued Chocolate Frog card that goes over his stealing credit and embellishing his books. A Ravenclaw girl got one and I offered to trade her Gulliver Pokeby for it. But she thought he still looked dreamy after a self inflicted memory charm.”

Professor Quelmsbleigh likely knew the next tidbit, but Ursula always like to show off when it came to her Chocolate Frog card collection. “Gulliver Pokeby was the ornithologist that identified that augury calls signaled rain.”

Oh.. sarcasm. He'd never been any good with things like that, often the last to cotton on or get the joke. That much was likely evident from the delayed reaction on his face before he laughed. "Right! Of course, no, of course you knew that. Smart girl like you." He praised with ease, although her laughter did rather seem to catch him off guard. He was glad she had found him so terribly funny at least.

"Oh! Wow.. I didn't know they had done that. I'd just assumed he would have been pulled from circulation." How odd... His original cards must be worth a lot these days, Fred thought to himself. He wasn't much one for collecting those cards, despite his love of sweets. He was more of a pastry person personally, rather than chocolate. He was rather proud of his rare Dumbledore card, now that was something to keep ahold of.

Frowning, Freddie tried to imagine what his new card might look like. Perhaps one day he would recive the honour of being placed on one.. it was a tad vain but one could dream. Especially if a slime like lockhart still had his face plastered on them. "You're very right! yes he was, an excellent discovery." Much happier to discuss that than the fact that a student had found Lockhart 'dreamy' of all things.

"But I didn't call you here to talk about your card collection, however exstensive and impressive it may be. I'd like to hear more about your proposed project."

Ursula’s giggles soon died down. Any more cackling and she might form a catch in her throat. Far more jubilant at the prospects of this meeting, she looked more inquisitive as she settled back into a prim posture. Professor Quelmsbleigh praises to her intellect was like the thin cheese on a slice of Šumava, or dense sourdough.

"You can be famous or infamous enough to get a Chocolate Frog Card," Ursula said. "Ethelred the Ever-Ready, the medieval wizard, took offense at everything and nothing. Then he died during his 27th stint in gaol for hexing innocents along with hurling insults." Real collectors valued reissued cards for the intricacies of both the history and the print quality.

But the conversation turned back to the important reasons of Ursula's year-end review. She supposed the June exams would get here before she knew it. "I've always been interested in herbology. And since all of Slytherin gets held to the example of its worse occupants, it was time to remind another house of its badduns." Which might be a petty reason to begin a report but it was only part of Ursula's interests. After all she was still twelve, regardless of an Admittance book recording her actual birthdate that made her thirteen.

"Eunon's parents, the Woods, were muggles though. And his wife Artemisia was from the Black family, but there's not many records of her at the school. I'd like to find more records beyond the Hogwarts Library. But with all the pruning the Blacks did to their family tree any surviving documents are likely to be rare."

Frederich sighed softly, his face a controlled mix of pity and understanding. Unfortunately Slytherin students and alumni alike tended to be lumped in with the houses most notable graduate. Which was unfair to say the least, Frederich himself knew many a wonderful witch and wizard that had come from that house and yet the bias remained. It was a dreadful shame and something which he hoped to help ease out of students to come. "Well, I say that sounds like an excellent idea."

Not that he was one to encourage acts of spite nor stoke the flames of resentment among the students but he admired her spirit. Too right she should speak up about injustice, he would encourage anyone else to do the same. "Though do try to remember the importance of impartiallity when writing academic papers. One must maintain an unbiased viewpoint despite whatever biases we may hold." Which was sound advice. "I've ever confidence that you'll do a wonderful job, I always enjoy reading your papers."

Which wasn't a lie, he enjoyed reading all of the students papers but there were a select few who flourished when given the oppertunity to do their research and Ursula was one of them. "Mm.. yes, unfortunatly they did a rather spectacular job of snuffing out any family members who did not share their ideology." Fredderich turned his attention briefly to his notebook, pickingnup his quill to jot down a note to look into the records for her. "Leave that with me and I'll see if I can pull some strings and find some answers for you." Humming, the moth like bow tie sitting across his throat fluttered, readjusting itself. "Failing that, I'm certain there will be a portrait or two willing to give their account. We'll just have to do a little digging to see which ones would be best to ask."

Ursula wasn't quite sure what to make of Prof Quelmsbleigh's expression. They'd been talking about the špatná jablka of almost every house, with the unstated treachery of Peter Pettigrew from the lion's tower. The Ravenclaw Head probably thought bad about Slytherin's reputation. But what hit closer to home, not actually a home for Ursula...

She chewed the inside of her cheek, the girl's supposed maturity for her age laxing as she looked away for a moment. Or what if he was worried about her, pitiable concerns for the little orphan girl who hadn't found a proper family yet? That almost felt worse than her being considered a nasty, dark witch just because the dungeon's mascot was a snake, after a founder who broke fellowship with the others.

"I'll be plenty impartial!" Ursula sat up straighter, slightly chuffed but pleased again with another point towards her past essays. "It'll be better than my three feet, two inches writing on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

She waited as the Professor considered options for research into the Blacks. She almost asked about taking a peek into the Restricted Section, although she wasn't going to push it. 2nd years rarely got the chance to access that wing of the library.

"I doubt former Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black will be of help," she crossed her arms, her branch shaped replacement folding over the one of flesh and bone. "If it's true his portrait only talks about himself and everything wrong with magic folk today." He'd been the school's least popular Headmaster for a reason, like the year he canceled the Quidditch season.

Pity wasn't something Frederich liked to practice, despite the instances where it was unavoidable. He felt bad for the poor girls circumstance, all beings deserved a fair shot at life and she had been given anything but. That hadn't impacted her ability to live a fulfilling life however, after all here she was, a bright and for the most part happy student. Life had dealt Ursula quite the rotten hand but she had worked it to her advantage. Life always found a way. So he didn't pity her, if anything he admired her. He knew the tell tale signs of a soul forced to mature beyond its years and for that he resented the youth that had been stolen from her, but that was all. He most certainly didn't pity her. That would be a diservice to her mettle.

"I'm sure you will" He said, smiling to himself at the way she tried to right herself, puffing out her chest and rolling back her shoulders in that proud sort of way that said she meant business. "Well then I will prepare to be blown away because that was a real treat." Which it had been, for her level of study. Dropping his quill back into the ink well he leant back in his chair, leveling a finger to tap against his lips as he thought, before snapping his fingers and leaning right back into the desk. "Gah you beat me to it!" Her knowledge of the schools history would never cease to amaze him. Her knowledge in general would never cease to amaze him actually, for such a young girl she knew so very much, and things that most children her age would consider boring or useless.

"Unfourtunatly it is true." Deflating slightly, the Ravenclaw head's, face fell into something of slight embarrassment. "He mistook me for a student and then proceeded to call me a lily livered fop when I explained that I was in fact a professor." he laughed awkwardly, perhaps that was oversharing, but he hoped she found it funny at the very least. That might make the words sting a little less.

Okay, Prof Quelmsbleigh was earning points for being quick to praise Ursula’s academic achievements. He had a long way to go to improve upon her rating of school Healer Tempest Sage, however. She’d started her schoolwork early insofar as giving the assigned book list a top reading priority before he arrived to Hogwarts, when she was improving her English by looking into the glossaries at the back of textbooks. What kept her from being in the roost with the rest of the witty eagles that Qulemsbleigh now headed had more to do with her ambitions, much like a Slytherin. Boning up on Hogwarts: A History was done primarily to spite her foster sister singing praises of Durmstrang.

“Prepare thyself a sturdy chair and a tall glass of water, Professor,” Ursula replied cheekily, with the notion of flooring a teacher via a written report. Maybe she could hex it? No, he’d be grading it, she’d only try to hex other eyes attempting to copy her essay.

“It’s not like there’s any other magically bred Blacks in Britain,” Ursula shrugged, as Quelmsbleigh mentioned meeting the portraiture. She curled her lips inward, trying to clamp down on her own giggles, but the mischief behind her eyes suggested this story was going to be even more unfavorable for the History professor once she had a chance to share it.

“Only one of those things is true,” Ursula replied without elaborating further. She was getting more comfortable with the meeting than she’d been almost twenty minutes ago. “Is the rest of the review just about my History grade? Or do you need to know what electives I’m taking next year?”