Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Chapter 77: Ignorant and/or Impotent

"Lord Malfoy," said the Defense Professor as what remained of their convoy left the 'restricted' third floor corridor and entered the main halls of Hogwarts. "I intend to request yet another segment of your son's time tonight. There is a favor I would ask of him."

Father's eyebrows rose, and he patted Draco on the shoulder. "Draco, know that my faith in your abilities, my faith in you, is greater than it has ever been. Despite…" he trailed off, allowing that suggestive statement to stand.

Despite everything that's bothering you, Draco thought. "I understand. Thank you, Father."

"Was there anything you wished to have, my son? Anything at all that would be useful to your future endeavors?"

That was a tempting offer indeed. But with the offer comes the condition, and with the bribe comes the quid-pro-quo. That lesson has been instilled into Draco so solidly that he reflexively quashed his childish impulse to blurt out anything stupid and immediately looked for the hidden cost.

"…No thank you, Father. The Malfoy coffers have suffered enough abuse lately."

Father smiled approvingly. "Be well, my son, and do well."

"I shall, Father."

They hugged, and then Father stood and strode away.

Lucius Malfoy had not been accompanied by his two faithful bodyguards all day. But then, he had the protection of the Defense Professor throughout the tour. And outside the tour, he was in Hogwarts: one of the safest fortresses on the planet, aside from maybe the Most Ancient Hall, which had been built by Merlin himself. Lucius is the most prominent member of the Board of Governors. He knows these halls by heart – as should any intelligent Hogwarts graduate. And he is safer in his person than he has ever been before, even ignoring the protection provided by the enchanted stone surrounding him. He neither needs direct staff oversight to supervise him while he is here, nor does he need directions, nor does he need a bodyguard escort.

As Father walked away, the Defense Professor said to Draco, "Do you have any homework that needs doing, Mr. Malfoy?"

That was the single most blatant trap that Draco had ever heard. From the Defense Professor, of all people. "Yes," said Draco. "I'll be doing it tonight."

"Excellent. Now to begin, Mr. Malfoy, this first part is not a favor. Nor is it any obligation or requirement on your part. It is simply an offer, no strings attached."

"What is it, Professor?" Draco asked politely, not allowing his skepticism to show, and in particular not allowing his increased skepticism to show. When someone says that, it's always a bad sign. Especially considering the Defense Professor's 'do you have homework that needs doing' line.

The Defense Professor spoke. "I can arrange for you to join the Circus Challenge when it starts, if you wish. Such events are often good learning experiences to all who attend, and I would not want you to go unwelcomed when at least two of your peers…" he grinned "…have already committed an hour of their Time into attending."

Draco blinked. "Oh." That actually did sound like it was a 'no strings attached' sort of offer. And although he hadn't been expecting it… "Yes," he said without hesitating. "I'd like to do the same." …he does enjoy the time he spends at Circus.

---

A more alive, more exhausted, and more Time Turned Draco Malfoy stood before the Defense Professor and acting Headmistress of Hogwarts. All three stood in the Mirror room, unreflected.

Upon the completion of the Circus game, Draco had been teleported to his private dorm room, where he had found a written note informing him that the favor to the Defense Professor, should he be interested in learning more about it, can only be offered in a certain location in Hogwarts. A location that, before and after the tour, they had 'cheated' their way to reach and to leave. A location that had been the talk of Gryffindor all of last year. A location Draco was instructed to pass through as quickly as he could, using whatever clever strategies he could imagine.

And so Draco spent around five minutes breezing through the third floor corridor, 'cheesing' all the parts except the second-to-last room, which didn't seem to have any challenges at all. At that point he simply walked into the final room – cautiously and hesitantly, in case of traps, but the psychological warfare of the final challenge room only added about a minute to his completion time.

All the rumors he had ever heard claimed minimum completion times of an hour. Honestly, those Gryffindoofuses don't have a single clever bone in their bodies.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Malfoy," said the Defense Professor, standing beside the Headmistress. "Did you bring your homework as I requested?"

"Yes," said Draco, carefully controlling his expression. If this turns out to be what he suspects it might be, it was such a terribly stupid false-accusation plot that Draco could still honestly say he'd only been asked to bring his homework as part of a favor to the Defense Professor, he had no idea why, and he was not trying to cheat on it, Headmistress.

"Good," said the Defense Professor. "That will give you something to do for however long it takes the favor to conclude, if you agree to my request."

Draco blinked. "What request?"

"I would like you to stand alone before the Mirror so that Albus Dumbledore's image might be called forth. Then I would like you to sit in the back of the room – still reflected by the Mirror so that his image does not disappear – while the Headmistress speaks with him. Which, I suspect, will prove better than if I privately spoke with her."

Draco blinked some more. "Oh." Like Harry, the Defense Professor clearly has the knack for dashing your expectations and replacing them with something completely beyond your own imagination. And unlike Harry, the Defense Professor's ideas are way less weird. Draco looked for something to say in response to this one. "That's… clever?"

The Defense Professor shrugged. "Perhaps it was clever thirty years ago. At this point it is routine. In any case, you shall be prevented from seeing or hearing their conversation, so homework will give you something to do. Assuming all this works and you can call forth his image again."

"I see," said Draco, not letting his disappointment show.

While this favor IS something only he can do, he'd been hoping the favor would require… some kind of personal prowess or skill or ability.

Now that his emotions and expectations had aligned more with reality, he moved on to the obvious question. "How much is this favor worth to you?"

"Since I am asking for something simple yet time-consuming from you, in such a fashion that it does not overly impact your productivity…" An illusion of another muggle-style clock appeared above the Mirror, flashing at 0:00. "You may ask me for something simple yet time-consuming, in such a fashion that it does not impact mine. That timer will count my debt, if you agree."

How incredibly fair and boring, Draco thought, again with that sense of disappointment. Is this what happens to Slytherins who learn how to cast the super Patronus? They get all… Ravenclaw about their favors?

Not that he was going to turn down such a good deal, of course. Unless… "Do I get anything even if this doesn't work?"

"Five Monroe points, whether it succeeds or fails. And you earned thirty for your efforts getting here. I'm thinking of implementing a standard scoring system for those who attempt Dumbledore's corridor. It is a half-decent series of tests for young Hogwarts students, and you did well to see the cheats."

"Indeed you did, Mr. Malfoy," said the Headmistress, who had been watching this entire exchange in amusement, accompanied by an undercurrent of impatient anxiety.

Validation from competent experts is always nice. Draco had been a bit proud at his own speed. "Thank you, Professors."

The Defense Professor nodded. "Will you do this favor?"

"I'll do it."

The Defense Professor took a step back and swept an inviting arm towards the space in front of the Mirror. "Whenever you are ready."

Draco nodded in return, then strode around to the front of the Mirror.

And there was an ancient bearded face, attached to an ancient bearded man.

"Hello, Headmaster," said Draco, using Occlumency to make sure his voice and emotions were perfectly level and respectable.

Albus Dumbledore looked down curiously. "Hello, Draco Malfoy. May I ask how long it has been?"

"Less than a day," said Draco.

"Did you enjoy Equestria?"

"I did," said Draco honestly. "But that's not why I'm here. The Defense Professor has asked me the favor of standing here so the Headmistress can have a long chat with you."

The old wizard's eyebrows rose slightly. "I see. Minerva, are you there?" he asked in a raised voice.

"Yes," said the Headmistress's voice, looking like she wanted to walk around and see the Headmaster face-to-face.

But the Defense Professor impeded her impulse with a raised hand of warning (he was standing slightly in front of her), and his voice asked, "Did you hear her, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I did."

The Defense Professor's voice continued without pause. "Then even if your image goes away when she is reflected, there will still be means for you two to talk. Mr. Malfoy, please go to the desk in the back of the room. If you hear and perceive nothing of us, presume it worked."

Draco did as instructed, and his perception of the Mirror blurred. Although he could still tell it was there, so it was probably still reflecting him. When enough time passed that he began to get bored, he got out his homework.

---

"Now you may proceed, Headmistress."

Minerva didn't hesitate, though as she passed the Defense Professor, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was pressing a button on a box-like device, then setting that device on the ground.

When Minerva finally saw Albus, a wonderful feeling of hope and relief replaced her weary woes.

"At this point, Professor Dumbledore," said the Defense Professor's voice, "I will take my leave. I'll remark that she has not yet truly met Tom Riddle face-to-face. Knowing that, I'll leave the rest entirely up to you." Then there was the sound of footsteps retreating.

Minerva stared at the man who held all the answers, who almost always knew what was right, the man she trusted more than any other to make good decisions. And she said, "I don't even know where to begin, Albus."

Her oldest friend nodded sagely, stroking his beard, his reassuring sapphire eyes looking pensive behind his sapphire glasses. "May I ask for a report, Minerva? For old time's sake?"

"There is far too much to report upon, Albus. That is part of the problem."

Albus continued stroking his long beard. "Is this our only chance to speak?"

Minerva blinked. "I… I suppose that would depend on Mr. Malfoy's availability. And his willingness to help." And her own availability, but she would make time for this. Even if she had to make extra Time.

"Broad strokes for tonight, then," said Albus. "The major events, particularly those that are troubling, or important to the ones that are troubling."

"That still covers a great deal."

"Then please start with the most troubling things. I will ask questions from there so that I may understand the context."

She nodded, and she did.

She started immediately with her concern that Tom Riddle is not dead. He is still alive and apparently free to roam Equestria. The Defense Professor's words, upon the night of Voldemort's 'vanquishment', had not given her the impression that this was the case.

From there, Albus asked so many questions – about that night, about the Defense Professor's precise wording, about some of the events that have happened since and what she saw in Equestria – that before she knew it, an hour had already passed.

Upon being probed so carefully, Minerva was no longer quite so upset with the Defense Professor leading her on back in June. She was still plenty annoyed, but Albus's careful questions revealed that the Defense Professor was blatantly being a mysterious old wizard about the situation. He had used words like 'vanquished' instead of 'killed', and he had even asked them to decide for themselves if they thought it was possible for the man who became Voldemort to ever cast the true Patronus charm, leaving nothing of his past self but a remnant.

If the Defense Professor were here right now, Albus informed her, he would claim it was not entirely his own fault that Minerva and everybody else except Severus leapt to the wrong conclusion that night. They answered that question too hastily, without considering the unusual context of the situation, the thirty-five years of Mirror-trapped Time, and what that might imply. They did not consider that powerful magics like Time and prophecy and phoenixes and the Stone and the Mirror might have colluded to send history down an unlikely path.

Yes, the Defense Professor was not fully honest. He is still not being fully honest. But if Albus had to guess, since his return the man has yet to tell an outright falsehood, as Mysterious Old Wizards tend to behave. At least to his closest allies.

Albus paused thoughtfully. "All of that being said, I know the Defense Professor is currently upholding quite an enormous lie, likely without delivering any direct falsehoods, as I did about Narcissa, and I can only guess why he still keeps it from those who have already signed his contract. Most likely he is scared."

"Scared of what?"

Albus hesitated for a long, long moment. "Know that you will be bound not to repeat the answer to that question to anyone else, if I provide it. It qualifies as a secret of the Defense Professor. It is the secret of the Defense Professor. Also know that you will react badly. Know that you will feel utterly helpless to do what you truly want to do, as I have felt these many past years."

That gave Minerva a bit of pause. Then, "I have learned many such secrets from you over the years, Albus. Is this one terribly different?"

"Yes," he answered without pause, and with dreadful seriousness. "It is by far the worst one you will ever comprehend. That is my warning to you, Minerva, and I implore you: consider it carefully. Examine each secret you possess, all the horrors you know, and ask yourself if you are willing, able, and ready to learn something much worse than everything that came before."

Minerva took a moment to think of all the things she knew that she'd rather not know.

…

…

…

Then she asked, "Is there anything else you can say, Albus? Anything that might prepare me?"

"Only that I cannot stand the thought of you continuing in ignorance, Minerva. Nor can I stand the thought of you continuing in impotence. But this is a choice between one or the other, and only by telling you might you one day escape the dichotomy. If you refuse you will be uninformed, yet you will feel like you have some manner of control. If you accept you will be aware of this secret, and you will feel utterly trapped. If you ever manage to cast the True Patronus, and if you ever learn Legilimency, you will realize you are not quite powerless, where this secret is concerned. That you have never been powerless, from the very beginning. If only you had been wiser, smarter, and more open to new ideas." He smiled wryly, despite the gravity of the situation. "I am speaking more to myself than you, Minerva. For that is how I feel about the whole situation now that I am at the end of it."

That was very foreboding indeed, as most competent warnings tends to be. It is the kind of warning that is vague enough to reveal nothing about the mission, yet precise enough to let you know – in theory – exactly what you're in for. It was a quintessential wise-old-wizard warning. And Minerva had received enough of them over the years, and followed through enough times, to know that her 'I can certainly handle it' belief is entirely self-flattering fantasy.

It really will be awful, and Albus can only hint at that awfulness.

"Finally," said Albus.

He's not done?

"Remember that it is my own prediction that you will react badly when you first hear about this, regardless of circumstances. If the secret ever gets out in an uncontrolled fashion, you will react badly then. I think this is the main reason the Defense Professor has delayed. Your immediate reaction, and the immediate reactions of others. Perhaps you will be able to afford such a moment and nothing ill will come of it. Perhaps your own honest reaction will be beneficial to you, as it will inform others around you that you were ignorant until that very moment. Perhaps learning about it now will induce a great deal of stress that will have a terrible impact on your current tasks. On the other hand, perhaps its unexpected revelation in the future will demand something better from you – proactivity instead of reactivity – if you wish to do the most good. What the correct path might be, I do not know."

There was a stretch of silence, and nothing else followed for a time.

Then, eventually…

"Understood," said Minerva. Said Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Who was Head of House Gryffindor. Who didn't always manage to live up to her house's ideals, especially when she had options other than doing what requires true courage. And she certainly has that option now.

She could even feel the great temptation to take that option. Albus had given her plenty of reasonable outs. He had not said that learning this secret now would be the right thing to do. Only that it might be the right thing to do. And that it would be difficult, and trying, and unpleasant.

That fear, those rationalizations, weighed greatly on her mind in this moment.

"Since it is a Gryffindor's way to do what is right," said Minerva to Albus, "and since neither I nor you know what is right in this moment, I shall instead be brave, for that is also Gryffindor's way." When Minerva had resolved, after Hermione's death, to do better, to be a better Gryffindor, she had meant it. Fear would not daunt her, at least in this moment. "Please tell me, Albus. I wish to know. And-" she added a bit wryly herself "-I know that you want me to know."

Albus smiled warmly. "You know me too well, Minerva. So be it."

His smile vanished, relaced by firm authority. "Steel yourself, Minerva. Cast and attempt to maintain your Patronus as we speak. Cast a barrier that prevents sound from escaping but not entering, so that you may scream as loudly as you wish without being heard. And be ready to escape into your Animagus form if you must. Give a nod when you have done all of this."

Like carrying out a Transfiguration experiment in which the highest Degrees of Caution must be implemented, Minerva followed Albus's instructions to the letter. When her moonlight cat was standing guard, as if to protect her from a Dementor, she nodded to show she was ready.

Albus spoke. "The Defense Professor remarked, and I agreed, that you have likely heard a certain theory by now. Answer honestly. I ask if you have heard, from Alastor or otherwise, the following theory: that an unknown wizard arranged for Voldemort to wipe out House Monroe, even the House Elves, so that someone could perfectly assume David's identity without suspicion. Please nod if you have heard this at some point."

A pit formed in the center of her stomach, and she nodded.

"That theory is true. Nod when you are ready to continue, or shake your head if you do not wish to hear more."

Though she trembled, she nodded.

"Then here is the truth, Minerva. First, please try to see it for yourself. David Monroe. Quirinus Quirrell. Lord Voldemort. What do all of these people have in common? Take a minute to think about it, and nod if you think you see it."

After a minute, she shook her head. She was trembling much harder, now.

"What they have in common is this: They all had the ambition of ruling the world. David Monroe, Quirinus Quirrell, and Lord Voldemort were all masks. The man who taught Battle Magic last year, the man who is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, the man who became Voldemort, all of them are the same person on the inside. They were all guises of my long-lost and wayward student, Tom Riddle."

---

Draco Malfoy looked up from his paper in the direction of the Mirror. For a moment, he thought he had heard the quietest of sounds coming from that direction, like the squeak of a mouse. After watching nothing for a while, boredom returned his eyes to his parchment.

---

Albus Dumbledore looked forlornly at the paralyzed form of the acting Headmistress of Hogwarts, who had screamed and then promptly fell over, limbs locked in place. He hoped that Tom had a contingency for this, and that Minerva wasn't fated to sit there for an hour and think about what she had almost done.

Whatever it was.

After a few minutes of silence, he said, "Minerva, since it seems Tom is not coming to release you from contract paralysis… I can see the pupils of your eyes, which are not frozen. Move them as you might move your head. Side to side for 'no', up and down for 'yes'. Do you wish for me to speak, to pass the time?"

With eyesight aided by his half-moon glasses, he saw her answer clearly enough.

"Do you wish for me to speak of the last thirty-five years, from my perspective?"

…

…

…

Her eyes moved up and down.

"Then let me begin with my first moment of awareness, when Tom came to stand before this Mirror in his pony form…"

---

One hour later…

"…at which point, my own journey of improvement began."

Minerva went from fully frozen to naturally collapsed in a sudden twitch, and Albus stopped upon the instant. She calmly pushed herself to her feet.

"Thank you, Albus," said Minerva's calm voice. Her extremely calm voice. Her overly calm voice. "I've heard enough."

Albus's eyebrows rose. "You have?"

"I have."

"…May I ask what you intend to do?"

"Nothing," she said simply.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Albus was not worried at the answer itself, but at her perfectly calm conveyance of it. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you were right in your warning. My ignorance has been replaced by impotence. I must do nothing to affect his interests using this secret, I must risk nothing unless I wish to risk punishment, and so I must do nothing."

Now she knows why Severus reacted as he did. She now also knows why Alastor refused to sign the contract. She is not the kind of witch to grow jealous, but she resolved to herself that perhaps it would be wise to learn the ways of paranoia.

"You might be able to ask Tom that a new contract be forged to replace the old one," said Albus. "One that paralyzes dynamically, only lasting as long as your intent to violate the terms. He had you sign the first contract he ever made, partly out of sentiment and fairness to all the others who signed it. He may allow you to switch to something less punishing."

Minerva considered it for a long while, then shook her head. "Miss Granger is bound to this one. As is Filius, and others. I will not switch contracts unless they are given the same opportunity."

Albus nodded. "He might agree to that as well." Then, without transition, "Was there anything else we needed to discuss, Minerva? Mr. Malfoy looks ready to return to his dorm for the night."

The headmistress turned, and saw a young blond boy sleeping in his arms, which were crossed on top of his homework.

The power of partial parenthood pulsed through her, and a steel rod of responsibility suddenly supported her spine as she strode forward with purpose, gently woke the child, and escorted him back to his dorm.

Sometimes, she wished all of life could be so straightforward.

On that note, there was paperwork to do. Albus used to remark, many times during the wizarding war, that Hogwarts ran far more smoothly when there was an outside crisis for Minerva to avoid thinking about.

Hogwarts would run very smoothly indeed that night – all of that night, and into the next morning and evening, for Minerva would get no sleep until the weekend was over. And Hogwarts would continue running quite smoothly in the months that followed, as its Headmistress avoided thinking about the world's most evil Dark Lord actively teaching her children Battle Magic.

Comments

[Fireeaters]

Nice chapter, I was half expecting the secret to be the patronus one for some reason

[harts fire]

Hogwarts would run very smoothly indeed that night – all of that night, and into the next morning and evening, for Minerva would get no sleep until the weekend was over. And Hogwarts would continue running quite smoothly in the months that followed, as its Headmistress avoided thinking about the world's most evil Dark Lord actively teaching her children Battle Magic.

it is a good thing he is.
i have a feeling that something evil this way heads.

a awesome chapter

[Booster Spice]

Looks like Minervas Silencio wasnt quite as strong as she thought, or her stress caused it to collapse, just as she was paralyzed, hence the Squeak?

Good thing the punishment was reduced. It used to be SQUEAK.

[Poparakelis]

Hogwarts would run very smoothly indeed that night – all of that night, and into the next morning and evening, for Minerva would get no sleep until the weekend was over. And Hogwarts would continue running quite smoothly in the months that followed, as its Headmistress avoided thinking about the world's most evil Dark Lord actively teaching her children Battle Magic.

I'd be pretty freaked out too

[isheepzu]

11798588
on the other hand...who better to teach the kids how to defend themselves than someone who was one who dived so deep and managed to claw their way back? because lets be clear...Tom HAS clawed his way back otherwise he would still be trapped like Albus.

[keybounce]

All the rumors he had ever heard claimed minimum completion times of an hour. Honestly, those Gryffindoofuses don't have a single clever bone in their bodies.

PFFT. Ha!

... So, the biggest things I can think of for time that could be skipped would be the chess game, or the flying keys. With the chess game destroyed, and the keys ... well, yeah, you don't need to be a brave gyrffindork and fly into the mess, I can see how that drops from an hour plus potion brew to 5 minutes plus potion brew. Still, it took a while for that potion, right?

"Since I am asking for something simple yet time-consuming from you, in such a fashion that it does not overly impact your productivity…" An illusion of another muggle-style clock appeared above the Mirror, flashing at 0:00. "You may ask me for something simple yet time-consuming, in such a fashion that it does not impact mine. That timer will count my debt, if you agree."

Mmm. If Draco is smart, that time will be saved until Draco is much older, and needs help with something as an adult :-)

How incredibly fair and boring , Draco thought, again with that sense of disappointment. Is this what happens to Slytherins who learn how to cast the super Patronus? They get all… Ravenclaw about their favors?

Ha. He is *Very* "Ravenclaw" about his favors.

"Since it is a Gryffindor's way to do what is right," said Minerva to Albus, "and since neither I nor you know what is right in this moment, I shall instead be brave, for that is also Gryffindor's way." When Minerva had resolved, after Hermione's death, to do better, to be a better Gryffindor, she had meant it. Fear would not daunt her, at least in this moment. "Please tell me, Albus. I wish to know. And-" she added a bit wryly herself "-I know that you want me to know."

I am certain that after this, she suddenly questioned whether she really belongs in the dangerous place of Gryffindor, or if she should have asked for the safety of Hufflepuff instead :-)