61.A helping hand and subtle reminder

November 25, 1991, Monday 8:45 am Transfiguration Courtyard

-Marshall's POV-

Me, my fellow Puffs, and the 1st year Ravenclaws were on our way to our DADA class.

"Marshall, will the breakfast menu earlier be the norm now?" asked Terry Boot.

I replied, "We still need to check if everyone is on board with the idea. But from the responses earlier, I think there would be no problem with the menu format."

Everyone very much were delightfully surprised earlier when they saw the menu in the dining table at breakfast.

Having the option to choose among the menu dishes stopped the monotony of our breakfast experience.

The elves just need to stock up on every dish and have it stored in a separate warehouse under stasis charm. They just have to take out what's ordered, and it will still be hot and fresh.

Avatar Long helped set up the new warehouse for cooked dishes, and I created new plates and table wares using alchemy from scraps the elves accumulated throughout the years.

I added, "There will be a survey tomorrow's breakfast to check if everyone experiences no problem with the menu format. If there are no problems, then we'll also apply it for lunch next week, and dinner on the week after."

Wayne commented, "You really went in and took control of the school's kitchen ,Huh?!"

I spread my arms and just said, "I never did intend to, but when I started preparing my food and others were asking for some, it reached a point that the older students were ordering me around. I need to do something."

"... Good thing the school gave me full control and freedom to make changes. I just need to be systematic and smart about how I do things so that it won't affect my free time and studies."

Hannah asked, "I heard you'll also make changes in the vegetable patch? "

"Yeah, but since winter is approaching, I'll postpone it for next year. If any of you like to help out, just tell me in advance. You'll mostly be dealing with crops and vegetables and not magical plants, but it can still be a learning experience if you're interested in gardening and Herbology," I replied, not forgetting to invite them.

Morag thought of the vegetable patch behind the greenhouse area, "That patch is small, right? There's not much to work with in terms of space."

I smiled and acted mysteriously, "Just wait after I'm done with it."

Everyone was intrigued and didn't ask further.

We finally reached the classroom and took our seats. As usual, the guys gave way to the girls and sat near the front.

For the last 3 weeks, the garlic smell in Quirrell's class became so strong that some girls were crying. Even my air fresheners had become obsolete.

Good thing we share the class with the eagles, who we can reason with. The other class of Slytherins and Gryffindors always ended up in a fight, which incurred both houses loosing points.

Currently, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are on the lead in the House Cup.

*Bam!*

The side door opened and Quirrell energetically walked in. His face looks a bit healthier, which surprised me. 'Huh? Did he regain some strength? How?!'

I quickly asked Siri…

Me:What's Quirrell's status?

Siri:Currently housing a soul fragment of another individual. His body was in the process of deterioration.

Me: Hmmm... Why does it look like he regained some strength?

Siri: He has drunk some unicorn blood.

I'm surprised. 'He was still able to hunt a unicorn? That can't be, I took the only herd in the Forbidden Forest. Is there a new herd that moved in? But I asked the centaurs, and they were sure that no new unicorns were spotted near Hogwarts.'

Me: Where did he get the unicorn blood?

Siri: He bought it on the black market.

'Tsk,' I forgot that there is still a demand for the blood since it's used in some potions. 'What to do now? Hmmm....'

Me:Who, or where did he buy the unicorn blood?

Siri: From Mundungus Fletcher…

'Damn it!' That guy!?

I'm in deep thought. 'Should I do something? I already saved the herd in the Forbidden Forest. I can't stop others from hunting the unicorns in other areas.'

Even if I tattle on Mundungus, Quirrell will probably look for other dealers.

If I push him into a corner, he might just do something drastic because he's running out of time and become desperate.

'Ugh!' I just let it be for now. But I made a mental note to take care of Mundungus later… and maybe the damn black market.

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10:56 am, Greenhouse 1

- Hermione's POV-

*Swish*Swish*Swish*~

'Grrrr... How is he doing that?!' I silently complain as I look at Witchery who is silently and continuously casting the Severing Charm, Diffindo, on the potted boxwood tree provided to each of us.

With the amount of reading I did, I'm already aware that spells can be cast silently. But I never imagined that someone as young as me can do it.

Professor Sprout approached Marshall, "I'm surprised that you're able to do silent casting, Mr.Witcherly."

Marshall stopped, smiled and said, "Oh… I'm frequently using Diffindo when I'm cutting ingredients when cooking. It became second nature, and I was able to do it silently at some point."

Sprout nodded in understanding what Witcherly mean, and gave 10 pts to Hufflepuff.

I pondered, 'Hmmm... So I just need to cast it multiple times 'til it becomes second nature to me? … Like muscle memory!!'

Actually, almost everyone was able to cast the spell properly. It was just a question of control. Seamus Finnigan cut his boxwood in half when he first tried it.

The Professor gave a heads-up, "Everyone, please practice the Severing Charm for our next class. You will be using a small yew tree with some bowtruckles living on it. If you hurt or kill a bowtruckle, it will be a point deduction for your house."

Everyone was surprised by our next exercise.

I saw Neville panicked, and he approached Marshall and asked, "Marshall, could you please help me? I can't seem to cast the spell properly… Actually, I can't cast any spell properly."

Everyone in Gryffindor gave a nod. Ever since the school year began, Neville never properly cast a spell, even after how much he practiced.

Marshall agreed, "Sure, try to cast it, and I'll observe."

Neville began casting the spell on Marshall's boxwood, but nothing happened.

Professor Sprout and everyone else was actually looking over and waiting for Marshall's advice.

"Stop!.." Marshall had a frown, and he points a finger at Neville's wand, "... It's your wand. It's not yours, right?"

Neville looked down at his wand with a downcast look, "It's my father's… my grandma insisted I use it and be more like him…"

Silence~

*Clap!*

Witcherly clapped his hand, breaking the silence. Neville looked up and Marshall said, "I'll talk to you later with Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster. I think I have a solution to your problem, but I want to hear from you… Do you want to change wand?"

Neville was surprised. Actually, everyone was. The way Marshall spoke exudes confidence.

"Yes! Please…" Neville answered.

Marshall then turned to Professor Sprout, "Professor, can Neville and I be excuse early? We need to meet the Headmaster."

"Oh… We need to asked first and schedule it," Sprout replied.

"But our next Herbology class is tomorrow, and I'm not sure if Ollivander is open at night…" said Marshall.

Witcherly remembered something and took out a paper and a pen. He hastily wrote something and folded it.

Marshall called out, "Wigby!"

Swoosh ~

An old house elf, in a worn out toga, appeared besides him and asked, "You called Master Witcherly?"

Handing the letter to the elf, Marshall said, "Wigby, can you pass this to the Headmaster and wait for his reply?"

The elf nodded and disappeared with the letter.

Sprout giggled, "Hoho.. You can now command the head elf of Hogwarts, Mr. Witcherly. What did you wrote in your letter, if I may ask?"

Marshall mischievously smiled and said, "I said, I'm cashing in the favor from the troll incident last Halloween."

Sprout was holding her laughter.

Everyone was reminded that Marshall's deed last Halloween. Harry, Ron and I looked at each other in understanding.

A moment later, the elf appeared again and handed a letter to Marshall. He read it and smile and gave the letter to Professor Sprout to read.

The Professor nodded, "Very well. Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Witcherly, you two can proceed to the Headmaster's office. The password is already written on the letter."

Neville was shocked on how fast things happened, and Marshall had to drag him out of the greenhouse.

Silence~

We got curious on how things will turn out.

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11:18 am, in front of the Headmaster's Office

-Neville's POV-

'Is this really alright?' I'm beginning to doubt if asking Marshall for help was a good idea. 'Why involve the Headmaster?!'

Marshall looked at me and laughed while patting my shoulder, "Relax, mate. I'll take care of this."

He approached the gargoyle and said, "Lemonhead!"

The gargoyle began to move and rotate upward, revealing a circular staircase.

We proceeded to climb the stairs and met a door. Before I could knock, we heard a voice called out, "Come in!"

Marshall opened the door and entered it. I followed, and was surprised to finally see Dumbledore's Office.

The Head's office itself was a large circular room with many windows and many portraits of old wizards that look at us curiously.

There were many books and rolled up parchments… there's also the Sorting Hat. I swear I can see it looking at us.

Dumbledore waved at us to take a seat in front of his desk. I quickly took a seat but was surprised to realize that Marshall is still standing and kept looking around trying to find something.

"What are you searching for, Mr. Witcherly?" asked the Headmaster.

Marshall sighed and finally took his seat and said, "I'm looking for Fawkes. Aunt Penny, told me all about him. Too bad he's not here."

Stroking his beard, Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Fawkes is somewhere around China, trying to find other phoenixes. It seems, he's having a hard time searching for a mate."

"Oh? Are they really that scarce? The New Zealand Quidditch team have one as their mascot," replied Marshall.

The Headmaster nodded, "Yes, Moutohora Macaws' Sparky. But unfortunately, it is also a male…"

I'm surprised that Marshall is not intimidated by the Headmaster. It has always been a mystery what was Marshall's background is around school. But they seem to know someone in common, Aunt Penny, was it?

*Creekk*

The entrance open again and Professor McGonagall walked in. She immediately approached the headmaster desk and look at us sternly, "So what's seems to be your concern, Mr. Longbottom?"

Nervous, I looked at Marshall. He just gave me a nod and said, "I think it's better if you explain your predicament with your wand yourself, Neville."

Taking a deep breath, I began narrating how my grandmother insisted on me using my father's wand and my problems casting any spells properly since the start of the school year.

I looked up and saw the Headmaster and McGonagall looking at me with pity. They probably know better what happened to my parents after the last war. My story ends on how I asked Marshall for advice in Herbology earlier…

Marshall then asked, "Can he make a quick visit to Ollivander's? I can lend him some money if needed."

Dumbledore became silent and said, "Yes, It's no issue using the Floo network to Diagon Alley. Minerva, would you please accompany Mr. Longbottom."

McGonagall nodded and motioned for me to follow her in front of the fireplace in the office.

I just stood up and gave my thanks to the Headmaster. When I look at Marshall, he was already had a handful of galleons in his hand, saying, "Bring the receipt."

Taking the galleons, I laughed at his joke and walked toward the fireplace.

I'm so excited, 'I'm finally going to have my own wand!'

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- Dumbledore's POV-

After McGonagall and Longbottom Floo out to Diagon Alley. There was only Witcherly and me in my office.

To be honest, I'm really bothered by this young lad. It's like he knew everything going on about Hogwarts.

He always gave me a look that shows his irritation, disapproval, and even disappointment.

Remembering Perenelle's howler, I rubbed my forehead. She didn't even hold back her words and cursed at me like a drunken sailor in different languages.

I'm more than a hundred years old, for Merlin's sake!

The long awkward silent was broken by Marshall saying, "Headmaster, I think a letter to Neville's grandmother is needed to explain today."

I looked at Witcherly and it always surprised me how he is very caring and protective of his fellow first years.

Agreeing with his idea, I said, "Yes, I'll write a letter to Augusta about putting unnecessary pressure on her grandson."

Witcherly had a look of hesitation but still reach for something in his pouch and took two vials of crystal clear potion and placed them in front of me.

I'm surprised and inspected the vial. I asked, "What's potion are these, Mr.Witcherly?"

Marshall was quiet for a moment. He sighed deeply and said, "This will heal Neville's parents."

"What!" Shocked, I almost drop the vial.

Marshall gave me a stern look and I tried to compose myself. If what he said is true, then Frank and Alice can be saved.

"Did Neville told you about his parents?" I asked.

He shakes his head, "No, I learned about them when I read about Harry's past."

I frowned. It seems Witcherly investigated the happenings around the last Wizarding War. Then how is he sure that this potion will cure the Longbottom couple?

I'm finding it really frustrating and intriguing what's Witcherly's background. A thought came to mind, 'Can I recruit him into The Order? I think it's still too early for that. Let's observe him for now.'

I asked, "Why are you helping Neville so much?"

Marshall pondered a bit and replied, "I helped him with his wand because on our next exercise in Herbology. There will be bowtruckles that we need to be mindful of…"

Knowing what exercise he is referring to, I chuckled. I remembered back in the days when Newt asked the bowtruckles to come down from the tree before he started pruning the shrubs.

Witcherly added,"... I just don't want to see lives be put in unnecessary danger. If I can prevent it, I'll intervene." He said it while looking at me as if implying something.

"As for the potions… I'm already friends with Harry Potter and Susan Bones, who lost their parents from the last war."

"It would be nice if Neville is spared from being under the care of adults who are either too busy or....." He looked at me sternly before he continues, ".... has a questionable way of 'caring' for them."

'Haaa... As I thought, he's implying something...' The way he's speaking tells me he knows some of what'sgoing on in the castle.

I kept my composure, stroked my beard and said, "Are you referring to Harry's maternal relatives? No one knew they would treat him that w---"

"Arebella Figg,"The lad in front of me spoke a name that stumped me. He knows the person I placed near the Dursley to monitor the boy.

"Rest assure Mr. Witcherly that leaving Harry under the Dursleys was necessary for his safety." Trying to defend my action, I found my self-raising my voice a little.

Marshall closed his eyes and started enumerating, "... Bruises, evidence of old bone fractures, scarrings, dislocated shoulder, unkempt appearance, ill-fitted and worn-out clothes, stunted growth due to malnutrition, ulcers, poor vision caused by using broken and wrong glasses..."

He opened his eyes and smiled, "These are just the few signs of abuse and neglect on Harry when I first met him, Headmaster. A far cry from the word 'safety', don't you think, Sir?"

Silence~

The portraits of the former headmasters started to discussing us.

"How disrespectful! What give you the courage to speak like that, BOY!?" said by the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

Marshall looked up and playfully said, "Hmmm... Phineas Nigellus Black. How's your descendants doing? Oh, Wait! I forgot! There's no one else carrying the Black family name. Well… maybe except for the one in Azkaban, Right?"

Phineas roared, "How dare you mock the Black family name!!!!"

"Mock? Sorry, I'm just telling the truth. Except for Sirius Black III, who coincidentally is Harry's godfather, there is no one else right?" Marshall nonchalantly explained.

He continued, "... Last I check, Lucius Malfoy is using his marriage to his wife, Narcissa, to take over the Black family fortune."

"What?! The Malfoy? How dare them!!!" Phineas lost it and started cursing.

I disregarded the rambling portraits and focused on what Marshall said. How intensive did he investigate everyone? But I realized something, 'He knows Sirius is Harry's godfather. Does that mean he's looking for an alternative guardian for the boy?'

'Haaa..' Sighing, I'm really finding it difficult to deal with Witcherly. It appears this kid intends to meddle in my plans.

"Why are you meddling so much on things that don't concern you, Marshall?" I just directly asked the boy what he wants while closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead.

Hearing no response. I looked at him and was surprised to see he had an expression that says, 'I don't know what you mean.'

Is he feigning ignorance?

Marshall spread his arms and said, "I believe what I'm doing is hardly called 'meddling', Sir. At most, you can say I'm being nosey."

He became solemn when he added, "If I ever meddle..." The boy paused and seemed to be finding the right word, "...you'll definitely know."

Silence ~

Looking down, I was surprised to find that I'm subconsciously reaching out to grab my wand.

Retracting my hand. I'm trying to analyze the situation.

The Flamels vouched for Marshall, but they themselves held him or his background in high regards. If I harm the boy, they will surely not be, please.

Then there is Marshall himself. He cares about Harry and other students to the point that he's now threatening me.

It appears he knows plenty of things, but still allowing them to happen and just keeping an eye on everyone's safety.

But my question is… Why? Is he here on someone's order.... It's possible. Whose side is he on?

Marshall is just sitting there with a relax expression.

I asked again, "Mr. Witcherly, be honest with me. Whose side are you on?"

Immediately, Marshall answered, "The students…. I mean, someone has to look out for their well-being, right?"

His answer surprised me. 'Yes, everything he's done so far were centered around the students. Not just Harry.'

I thought back, 'He's improving the menu to accommodate and enrich the student's school experience. He's also breaking the divide between the houses that had plagued the school. Saving the three Slytherins from the Ice Vault. Taking care of the trolls. And now, addressing Longbottom's problem with his wand...'

Glancing at the two vials of potion, he gave to heal Frank and Alice. Marshall wants to spare Neville from his grandmother's delusion.

His honest answer reassures me, but I also feel offended. 'Does that mean that ,in his point of view, the school is disregarding the students.'

Taking a deep breath, I looked at Witcherly and promised, "Mr. Witcherly, Rest assure, no harm will happen to everyone here in Hogwarts."

Marshall chuckled like he heard a funny joke, "I'll remember your words, Headmaster."

Swoosh ~🔥💨....🔥💨

Suddenly, the fireplace burst in flames and out came Neville, followed by Minerva.

"Marshall! Look! I have my wand!" Longbottom yelled out, not caring for my presence.

Marshall turned around and smiled, "Good, now practice casting the spell later. If you still hurt a bowtruckle tomorrow with a proper wand, I'll punch you."

Neville got scared.

I almost laughed. There's no trace of Witcherly's solemnity on his face. He's really just looking out for the students.

Standing up and preparing to leave, Marshall said, "I enjoy our little chat, Headmaster. Please don't forget the letter and those two potions. We'll be going now."

Neville came to his senses and bowed, "Thank you Headmaster, Professor. We'll be leaving now."

The two just walked out, leaving me and Minerva in my office.

I sigh a breath of relief as I'm finally away from that kid.

Minerva approached my desk and sat down facing me and asked, "What does Marshall meant about a letter and potions?"

"The letter is for Augusta to explain Mr. Longbottom's issue with his wand." I explained, to which Minerva gave an understanding nod.

She stares at the two potion on my desk, "...And these potions?"

I sighed, "Witcherly gave them to heal Frank and Alice Longbottom."

McGonagall had a surprised look and continuously asked questions.

As I told her of our conversation, It became obvious to me that Marshall is looking out for the students.

I'm beginning to reflect on the decision I made regarding Potter and this school year. However, the wheels are already in place and there's no use for regrets.

We can only make sure that everything goes as plan.

~end chapter ~