AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you have read the previously posted version of this story, you are undoubtedly aware that I have made some changes. This is because my initial history was way off, according to the HP Lexicon, which I only recently discovered. The history presented here is consistent with canon.
Also, according to OotP, Professor McGonagall has been at Hogwarts for 39 years. Since Dumbledore became Headmaster about 24 years before OotP (about the same year as when Lupin started), one of them had to be teaching a different subject for the intervening 15 years.
Chapter 4 - Professor Grayson
Dumbledore didn’t say anything about why had summoned them until he and his guest had taken their seats at the table. The waiter, having seen them arrive, scurried over. “Hello, gentlemen. May I take your orders?”
“Hot chocolate for me,” Dumbledore said without hesitation.
“I’ll have a Ferret Punch,” the stranger, a large man in a hooded cloak, said. He obviously spoke good English, but his accent was a little odd.
“Ferret Punch?” Arthur asked as the waiter hurried off.
“It’s what they drink instead of butterbeer where he comes from,” Dumbledore explained. “It’s really not bad. And it isn’t made from ferrets, despite the name.”
“It used to be,” the stranger said. “But they changed the recipe. No one really liked finding little bits of ferret in their drink, tradition or no.” He thrust off his cloak. “Hi. Ulysses Grayson. Are you Ginny Weasley?” Ginny nodded. “Pleased to meet you. Dumbledore’s told me so much about you, I feel like I know you.”
Ginny took a closer look at the newcomer. He was average-sized, powerfully built, and about ten or fifteen years younger than her parents. His most startling feature was visible at a glance. His hair was long, spilling down over his shoulders. This was hardly out of the ordinary; long hair was commonplace among wizards of both sexes. However, this fellow’s hair was a startling shade of fuschia.
“A pleasure, Mr. Grayson,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Where do you know Dumbledore from?”
“He attended Hogwarts,” Dumbledore explained. “One of Hufflepuff’s most impressive students.”
“Did you play Quidditch?” Arthur queried.
“I was Keeper, but I wasn’t much good,” Grayson said. “They only kept me on the team because I was a decent strategist.”
“More than decent,” Dumbledore said. “His team was dead-last ten seasons in a row before he joined the team. Once he did, they were quite good. Had Gryffindor not been such a powerhouse at the time, they might have taken the cup a time or two.”
“I believe it,” Arthur said. “Charlie’s letters home often mentioned moves that bore your name: the Grayson Ploy, the Grayson Surge, the Grayson Defense, and a few others.”
“They were even more effective when I was playing,” Grayson said. “Before the other house teams learned how to counter them.”
“When were you at Hogwarts?” Ginny asked.
“I arrived in 1970," Graytson said. "Dumbledore became headmaster in my second year.” He addressed the man in question. “I still remember your Defense lessons. You were the one who made me really want to be an Auror.”
Dumbledore laughed. “No, you were intent on becoming an Auror before you even started at Hogwarts.”
“William Shacklebolt, Kingsley’s granddad, took your place,” Grayson said. “He was good, but not as good as you were.”
“I remember hearing that you had been made headmaster,” Arthur told Dumbledore. “It was about five years after we left school. The year before Bill was born, if I remember right.”
“We were about twelve years apart, sounds like. That explains why I didn’t see you around,” Mr. Grayson said. “Your red hair would have made you hard to miss.”
“Speaking of hair. . . .”
The man laughed. “Yeah, it was brown when I was in school. Right after I left, I was quarreling with my soon to be ex-girlfriend, and she lost her temper and zapped me with Pili Puniceus.”
“Pili what?” Ginny queried.
“The Pink Hair hex,” Mr. Weasley said. “But it’s easily reversed, isn’t it?”
“Yes it is.” Professor Grayson shrugged. “Fact is, I looked a lot better this way. So I just never bothered to change it back.”
Everyone laughed at that, even Ginny, who was growing more nervous by the minute. Perhaps her mother sensed that; she quickly got down to business. “So, Mr. Grayson, what brings you here?”
“Actually, it’s Professor Grayson now,” Dumbledore stated. “He’s the Defense teacher at Silver Grove Academy.” He tossed a half-affectionate, half irritated look at the man in question. “I’ve been trying to get him to come over here for the past five years.”
“Six years,” Professor Grayson corrected. “Since ‘88, when Quirrel turned up missing.”
“And where’s your school?” Mrs. Weasley wanted to know.
“Somewhere in America,” her husband enlightened her. “A place called Wide Homing, I think.”
“Actually, it’s called Wyoming,” Professor Grayson said. Seeing Arthur’s abashed look, he laughed and added, “Don’t worry. I was born and educated in Britain, but most of us Yanks couldn’t even find our country on a map.”
“What are the schools like in America?” Ginny wanted to know. “Are they anything like Hogwarts?”
“You will have the opportunity to find out, if you wish,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “Mr. Professor Grayson is here to bear an invitation to you, to attend Silver Grove Academy.”
A long silence at the table as the three Weasleys digested this information. “There’s no way she could return to. . .” Mrs. Weasley began.
Dumbledore sharply interrupted her. “Molly, I have devoted over a year to exploring that option. If there was a way, you may be certain that I would have found it by now.”
Professor Grayson nodded. “I’ll be in town for a week. Our school term starts on the fifteenth, not the first. So you’ll have plenty of time to decide.” He produced a letter, which he handed to Ginny, then stood. “I’ll be visiting with various friends and relatives, but I’m staying here at the Cauldron. Room 9. Let me know what you decide.”
* * * * * * *
Back at home, Ginny read the letter twice, then handed it to her parents. The first page was almost identical to the one she had received from Hogwarts, save the name of the school and the color of the ink (silver, not green). The second consisted of the list of required supplies.
TEXTBOOKS:
Potion-Brewing Fundamentals, by Alison Acyd
Transformation Made Simple by Erasmus Skinner
1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllidia Spore
Magical Combat for Beginners by Honor Gray
Charming by Casey and Meredith Love
Contemporary Magical History by Tyler Thyme
The Silver Grove Student Handbook by Estella Chance
SUPPLIES:
1 Cauldron, Size 2 or 3, copper or pewter
3 Sets of Everyday Robes, black, navy, or charcoal
1 Set of Gloves, Dragon Hide or equivalent
1 Set of Potion-brewing Scales and Phials
1 Standard Assortment of Potion Ingredients
1 Telescope, 10-power or stronger
Recommended: 1 Set of Dress Robes, any color
DRESS CODE:
Silver Grove has no set school uniform, other than robes of approved colors, which shall be in good repair and fit properly. However, blue jeans, fatigues, shorts, T-shirts, muscle shirts, sweats, and other casual wear are not to be worn in class. Male students are expected to wear slacks and a shirt with a collar. Female students may also wear skirts or dresses, no shorter than 3" above the knees.
ANIMAL POLICY:
Students may bring one animal, their choice, but must weigh less than 25 pounds and be RELIABLY housebroken.
“Looks like you won’t need all that much new stuff,” Molly commented. “Good thing, our budget’s tight these days.”
“Looks like they’re less strict about some things,” Arthur added. “Typical, given their reputation.”
“Reputation?” Molly queried.
Arthur sighed. “Hogwarts, as I’m sure you know, is the best-rated school in the world today, though Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have also held the title at various times in the past century. No one comes close to those three, but Silver Grove. . . well, .et’s just say it’s far closer to the bottom of the list than it is to the top.”
Ginny piped up: “Then why is Professor Dumbledore trying to hire their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?”
“Well, maybe he’s better than most of the others. After all, he was Hogwarts-educated,” Molly supplied.
“I expect Dumbledore only went to them after you got turned down by a lot of others,” Arthur confessed. “There are a total of five schools in North America, seven if you count Mexico. None of them are up to our standards, but Silver Grove is the one that American Ministry officials don’t like to talk about.”
“Why?” Ginny wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “They don’t like to talk about it. I’m afraid I know very little about the place, other than its reputation.”
“Hmmm,” Molly said. “Ginny, dear, maybe you should. . . .”
Ginny interrupted her. “Mum, if you’re going to tell me that I should say no, you can forget it.” Molly tried to reply, but Ginny wasn’t done. “I’ve been trapped in this house, living like a Squib, for a year. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like that.”
“But to go there,” Molly protested. “There’s no telling how dangerous it could be.”
“Is there any way I could get to be a witch unless I go here?” Ginny held up the Silver Grove letter. “Any way at all?”
Arthur didn’t hesitate; he knew how many brick walls Dumbledore had already hit in seeking other options. “No.”
“I don’t want to live the way I have since I left Hogwarts,” Ginny said, tears welling in her eyes. “I’d rather die. Don’t you understand that?”
A long, portentious silence as Molly stood ataring at her daughter. Then, the older woman seemed to wilt, as she realized that, given that Ginny had no options, and that she could never be happy living the life of a second-class citizen, there was truly nothing more to be said. “All right.”
Unable to say more, she hurried from the room, strangling back tears. Arthur moved to go after her, but paused just for a moment to address his daughter. “She’ll be all right,” he said. “She knows that it has to be like this. Otherwise, she’d never have given in so easily.”
Ginny stood alone in the room, letter in hand. For the second time in less than two years, her world had changed overnight. She wondered what new surprises were in store.