Chapter 4

After the feast, the prefects of each house called for their first years to follow them, and to mind that they did not lose their way.

"That's right," said Ron to the youngsters in his charge. "A few years back a couple of firsties didn't do as they were told and wandered off - never did find them, I don't think..."

"Oh, knock it off, Ron!" said Hermione, exasperated. "It's scary enough for them as it is." She turned to address them. "Just follow me - everything will be just fine." The children obediently lined up, looking so unbelievably small. Hermione was quite sure that she had not looked so young in first year, nor so helpless.

Imogen envied the 'ickle firsties' as they were led away. Although a bit confused, they knew more or less what was in store for them, and they would have help and guidance every step of the way. She saw Professor McGonagall approach her through the crowd of dispersing students.

"How was your start of term feast, Imogen?"

"Just fine, thanks!" she replied, managing to sound enthusiastic. Just as Imogen had expected, early on in the feast the hideous Delores Umbridge had interrupted Professor Dumbledore's speech with one of her own. Imogen had noted that Hermione's comments about the speech were as expected - Imogen's presence at the table near Hermione had made no appreciable difference. After the speeches were over, Imogen had spent the entire meal listening to the others at her table chat about old times. Some had made a polite effort to engage her, for which she was grateful, but the complete lack of common experience had made it hard for her to sustain a conversation with anyone, and so for the most part she has simply looked cheerful and alert, as if she were enjoying herself. There were a number of Gryffindors who had never been mentioned in the books, and Imogen had listened carefully, trying to learn their names. And it was fascinating to watch some of the more prominent Gryffindors at the table chat with each other.

But Imogen could tell none of this to Professor McGonagall, and walked silently with the professor towards the Headmaster's office. Soon they reached what Imogen surmised was the entrance to the stair case leading to Dumbledore's office.

"Cockroach Cluster," said Professor McGonagall. They were promptly admitted, and the Professor's knock gained them an invitation to come in.

Dumbledore stood behind his desk. Nothing in the books had prepared Imogen for how truly imposing a figure he was - tall, angular and distinguished. Very old, indeed, but very powerful as well. Professor McGonagall took a seat, and Dumbledore motioned for Imogen too to be seated.

"I understand that you persuaded Professor McGonagall to be your own personal Sorting Hat," he said. "Quite an accomplishment for a new arrival at Hogwarts, I must say. But then you have four years of missing accomplishments to make up."

"So Professor McGonagall has told you everything," replied Imogen.

"Hardly, for the Professor knows almost nothing, you were able to tell her so little. But what you did tell her Professor McGonagall has been passed on to me, yes. And I am rather puzzled as to what to do next - and that has not happened in quite a while, I can assure you." Imogen wondered how Dumbledore managed to make a comment like this sound self-deprecating. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Imogen could not completely suppress a smile. She knew Dumbledore was not yet expecting a statement from her, and she waited for him to continue.

"Professor McGonagall tells me that you volunteered to submit to Veritaserum. I do not know whether you are aware that the truth potion cannot be administered to you without either your consent or a Ministerial warrant."

"I didn't know," said Imogen. "It's good that people can't just slip it into someone's drink."

"Well, at least you're not supposed to. The Ministry frowns on it, in fact. It's not treated with the same severity as the use of an Unforgivable Curse, but the punishment is rather severe. My craven fear of the Ministry is well-known, and so I've prepared a consent form for your signature." He passed a piece of parchment to her, along with a quill. Imogen took the quill, and wrote her signature at the bottom, without first troubling to read the document. She stared at the paper, puzzled that no signature appeared. Professor McGonagall spoke up.

"Imogen, you have to dip the quill in ink first."

Imogen laughed. She'd never used a quill before, and had tried to use it like she would a pencil. Professor Dumbledore opened the ink bottle. She dipped the quill in, and wrote her signature, pressing too hard and creating a dark, inky mess at the bottom. It took two more tries before she could leave a legible signature. Dumbledore and McGonagall briefly looked at each other, but said nothing. After the two professors each witnessed Imogen's signature, Dumbledore took back the parchment.

"How do you take your tea?" he asked.

"Milk and sugar, please," replied Imogen. A steaming cup of tea instantly appeared before her, into which Dumbledore poured a few drops of the truth potion. Imogen immediately took the cup and began to sip. Dumbledore explained what she could expect. "After you drink the tea, you will for some time lack any awareness of your surroundings. When you recover, you will feel like you nodded off for an instant."