Imogen:  a Harry Potter tale - Cover

Imogen: a Harry Potter tale

Copyright© 2008 by You know who

Chapter 3

Professor McGonagall was not accustomed to being addressed in such fashion - especially not by a student. Everyone knew her reputation - 'tough but fair' was the usual description people used. To this could one could fairly add that Professor McGonagall was not to be trifled with; she was impatient of silly excuses and disliked intensely having her time wasted. But to be spoken to by a student in words that bordered on the peremptory - this was new. The professor stifled the immediate reply that came to mind, and instead focused on the content of what she had just heard - and was stunned by it. The girl was new at Hogwarts - that was obvious enough. Transformation was mandatory until the end of fifth year, and of course McGonagall knew that she had never laid eyes on this Imogen before. The girl could not be a transfer from another school - such events were extremely rare. Muggles of course were familiar with having to switch schools due to changes in residence, but in the wizarding world physically moving one's home never meant that the children had to switch schools. If Imogen were a transfer, she would have been the first such student at Hogwarts in many, many years - certainly no such student had joined Hogwarts during McGonagall's tenure, and that stretched back quite a ways. McGonagall and the rest of the staff would have been told if a new upper-year student were joining them.

But the girl's explanation was also impossible. If for some reason a first year failed to appear as expected, an alarm would have been raised. Such a thing had never happened. There was the odd case when a first year was too ill to take the Hogwarts express, but the school was always notified in advance. Had Imogen simply failed to show up, the response by Hogwarts would have been immediate and very, very thorough. No, the girl's story made no sense. Obviously McGonagall had to make inquiries immediately.

"Wait for me outside the Great Hall. I'll be with you presently."

"Yes, Professor," replied Imogen, immediately turning to depart the hall. The girl's instant compliance with instruction mollified the professor somewhat - yes, the girl had been a bit abrupt, but obviously she could take direction. McGonagall liked to be obeyed with alacrity. She thought for a moment, trying to collect herself, and was distracted by the chatter at the professor's table where she sat. She turned to the headmaster.

"Albus, could you please delay the commencement for a short while? Something has come up that simply cannot wait - I'll only need a few minutes." Dumbledore cheerfully agreed, despite the fact that McGonagall's absence meant he would have to be more attentive to a new addition to Hogwarts' staff, the shockingly unpleasant Delores Umbridge. In the few minutes he had sat near her, Dumbledore found her dominated by pride, ambition and arrogance, which, sadly, were allied to the woman's deep stupidity. Dumbledore would have found Umbridge amusing were it not that he knew full well her purpose, and mourned in advance the effect she would have on the students and staff.

Professor McGonagall strode down the hall to the entrance. The students noticed nothing, too busy taken up in renewing acquaintances and discussing their summer. If anyone noticed a delay, McGonagall thought they would probably put it down to Hagrid's absence, which the students would take for tardiness, for none of them knew Hagrid would not be returning to Hogwarts - at least, not at start of term.

McGonagall exited the Great Hall to see Imogen Iorworth standing alone. McGonagall bade her follow, and she led the girl to an unused classroom nearby. Once seated, McGonagall told Imogen to repeat what she had said in the Great Hall.

"I am four years late," she replied. "I was supposed to be in the same year as Harry, Hermione, Ron and the others. But I found myself at King's Cross Station this morning, at platform nine and three-quarters, with an owl, a trunk and no idea where the last four years have gone."

"You seem remarkably self-possessed for someone with amnesia," replied McGonagall, still baffled at the girl's story, for it could not possibly be true.

"Professor, I don't claim that my story makes any sense - I know it doesn't. I'm not asking you to just accept what I say, and I will submit to veritaserum, memory charms or anything else you want."

McGonagall thought for a moment. "Pull out your wand, please." Imogen did so. She had to fumble a bit to find it.

"Show me a spell."

Imogen raised her wand, and focusing on some papers on a nearby desk, uttered 'Wingardium Leviosa' - the first spell that came to mind. She was not surprised when her words caused the papers only to rustle slightly - nothing more.

McGonagall was appalled. The girl's pronunciation was wrong, her wand movement comical - almost a caricature of casting a spell.

"Girl, do you know any magic at all? Are you completely ignorant?" asked McGonagall in astonishment. At least the spell had had some effect, which eliminated one possibility - McGonagall had been wondering whether the girl was a squib, brought in by Dumbledore for one of his elaborate pranks, which to her annoyance McGonagall had fallen for repeatedly over the decades.

"Professor, I've never done magic before. I know the words of many spells, but I've never attempted one. I've never even held a wand until now."

What to do with the girl? McGonagall thought a moment.

"Something like this has of course never happened - completely without precedent. I am sorry to say that I will have to take you up on your offer to be questioned under Veritaserum or memory charms - it is not that I disbelieve you, but rather that I think that you yourself do not actually know the truth, and that some digging is necessary to find it out. But we cannot leave you in limbo while we investigate. Something must be done, and immediately. You are quite ignorant for a student your age - I mean no offence, but this is unquestionably the case. Obviously you will have to be sorted. Impossible that you could be placed with your peers - you will have to join the first years. This is a very uncomfortable prospect for you, I am sure, but I see no alternative. Doubtless you will be advanced more quickly due to your maturity. It might not take you more than two years to reach where you ought to be. Let us head back to the hall for the Sorting." But Imogen did not move, and spoke up immediately.

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