Even the Walls Have Ears...

[Tamis Raynor]

... Except he wasn't a wall and it was against his will that he was hanging from one.

The circular office of the Headmistress was a desolate place to be. Over the centuries of use, it had hardly changed. The foyer still comprised of a giant personal library on various texts ranging all the way from the Dark Arts to how to knit your own mittens, reflecting the different degrees of reader's interest to occupy the space. In fact, a good many of those texts were now banned, out-of-print, or would have rightfully been located in the Restricted Section of the library. The same could be said for the diversity of the artifacts cluttering various shelves and tables scattered across the room -- including the sorting hat lifelessly perched on a stool just before the stairs that lead to the great oak desk.

But it was beyond the foyer in the actual circular office space that was of real importance.

The light sound of snores glided over the air as a sea of portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses snored peacefully in their frames. Their chests rose and fell with the rhythm of their relaxed breathing, facial muscles slack, and eyelids drooping. All that was, except for one.

Phineas Nigellus Black, one of the few Headmasters in history to hail from Slytherin, yawned loud and obscene, mouth gapping as the sound reverberated across the tower. A hand reached up from inside his frame to study the precise nature of his nails.

A couple of the portraits around him dared to crack an eye open and send rueful glances his way before falling back into their "dreamlike" pretense. There was even an agitated snort from somewhere below him. Minerva was it? Sounded like it.

Phineas just did not see the point. They pretended to sleep when the Headmistress was not there, and when she had company... the only time they got to talk was when she was there alone. Which was never. Even if when she was that was most amusing. Even if she was an excuse for a pureblood. Oh well. Such was luck he supposed.

But it did make life as a portrait rather boring.

He needed some spice in this existence. Ever since the great hurray surrounding the downfall of Lord Voldemort, thinks had been rather dull.... well, at least in this office.

Such could not be said for the rest of the school.

(( Closed. ))

[Felicity Hjort]

Week long watches. That's what it'd come down to, watching for weeks for some sort of schedule from the Headmistress. It appeared she didn't actually have one, but the blonde had managed to find some time throughout the day when she wasn't located within the walls of her new office. The tricky part was deciding about the amount of time she'd have to do what she felt was needed to be done.

Ever since the interview, Felicity had been more the interested in a few things within the circular office. There were so many gadgets that she'd never laid eyes on before, the Sorting Hat was located within, but most importantly, the portraits were there. Sure, there were portraits all over the school, but these ones were different, she could feel it. These portraits were those most closely associated with the Headmistress, they saw her every move, knew her every moment and mood when she was inside. However, from her own observations, it didn't seem like that was often enough, but it was still enough to have something for the curiosity of the blonde.

Boldly walking up to the statue, Felicity repeated the password from ages ago, praying it hadn't yet been changed. Thankfully, her stars were lucky for that moment. The gargoyle moved, groaning with the weight of ages and stone, revealing the temping stairs.

And perhaps they were just too tempting, as Felicity couldn't help but take that first step, and let her feet continue moving her body upwards. Peering cautiously into the room, Felicity was glad to see it empty of another body. This was almost too perfect.

The portrait she most seeked had been quite plentiful on information, she was quite sure, after all, it was only when Raynor told him to knock it off that he stopped talking. And the information he had provided left her wanting for more.

Clearing her throat, the light brown eyes searched around, looking everything over. Time to set in motion her task. "Excuse me...?"

[Tamis Raynor]

What was this?

The door down the ways was creaking open. The midget woman was back all ready? That was mighty surprising seeing as she had stormed off like a puffed-up owl ready to deal with a mouse that simply refused to become its pray... he assumed Shaw related or that-strapping-young-fellow-who's-name-eluded-him related. Either way, it was far too brief of an intermission.

But the door was not knocked of its hinges. There was no impressive -- and fluent -- displays of foul language that made even his ears turn red. There was no muttering and cursing and purposeful rude cluttering of objects that the Headmistress would vent her anger on before plopping unceremoniously into "her" high-backed chair. All of this remained nonexistent.

No, it was not Tamis Raynor that invaded the office. The voice that reached out was far too timid, too meek, and well, too polite to be the Headmistress. And it was too young.

Some of the portraits had cracked eyes open and were peeking through half-closed lids. Phineas on the other hand was darting around in his frame, neck straining to try and get a glimpse of the voice's owner.

"Who is that? Show yourself. Students have no respect these days, barging in to the Head Office. In my days..." He trailed off into grumbled disapproval. "Well? Don't be shy, show yourself I say!" He repeated, louder.

"Phineas," someone else hissed next to him in warning. He pretended not to hear.

[Felicity Hjort]

At first, silence. Maybe the portraits didn't speak unless the Headmistress was in her office? If that was the case, she was in for a bit of troublesome tasks. Felicity felt she needed something, almost anything that would tell her more about the woman. She knew about favouritism, but she didn't understand why an adult, such a figure as Raynor herself was...should've been, would play at favourites. Even in the face of such danger as they all were in January, she chose favourites, despite anything Drew said, it was all a bit of favouritism played on over years of it. Hailing from Ravenclaw, being proclaimed the Ravenclaw Head of House, and now...Headmistress who liked her own colours better than other Houses.

And then someone spoke...

Thankfully, as harsh as the voice sounded, Felicity recognized it. While she'd only heard it once, she had it memorized already. It was the man with the beard, pointed face, darker features. It was his proper, knowing and frightening voice.

Gulping nervously, Felicity stepped into the circular room, eyes darting around, hoping Raynor really was away. The light wasn't necessarily blinding, but it was less dim than that of the entrance into the office.

A small smirk formed on her lips as she listened to the man speak, her eyes immediately picking his frame out of those hanging from the wall. While he sounded a little perturbed, he also sounded a bit interested too.

"My name's Felicity," she answered him, hoping her voice didn't quaver too much. "I'm the Editor of the school paper..." the fifth year trailed off, not really sure how much she should say, nor what to really say. What did you say to a portrait that you wanted to get information from? "I'm working on an article...about Professor Raynor." She was being truthful on that, as she was still working on the article. "I was hoping to...to get a bit more information about her without her giving it to me."

Blatantly said. She wanted information on the woman that ran the school. No, it was doubtful the information would go into the same article she was currently working on, but she still wanted to know what kind of "dirt" she could get on the shorter woman.

[Tamis Raynor]

Still bobbing around in his frame the former Headmaster peered down his sharp nose at the girl that stepped into his line of vision. It was one of those nuance children indeed. And, he eyed her robes in distaste, a Gryffindor at that. They were a nosy lot, always sticking them where they did not belong. It of course had to be a Gryffindor that sneaked into the Headmistress' office. Ravenclaws had more brains than that, Hufflepuffs too many morals, and Slytherins not enough gall. Yes, Gryffindors were the only ones stupid enough to sneak into this woman's office. Even he knew not to push his luck with that -- too much.

She had yet to try and burn him out of his frame like that Ticloon wench. Always a plus.

Hmm... blonde, wide-eyed, slightly vacant expression, and Editor of a paper... Felicity she had said? Oh yes, he remembered this one. Or what he had saw of her before he had been so rudely shooed away. Not ordered, of course. You could not order this wizard from his rightful throne.

And then she explained herself.

All at once, eyes around him popped open as if a switch had been triggered. A sea of blue, green, brown, and gray sudden leered down on the fifth year. There was a shocked silence and then a murmur broke out like an angry buzz of bees. Some began to argue, the "in my days" the most audible statement.

Even Phineas was lost in the chaos, and he turned a deep shade of purple. They were too busy bickering with each other than the girl was almost forgotten; almost.

And then when all hope seemed lost:

"Before we condemn the young lady, perhaps we should hear her out?" A wizard with long white hair, and sparkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles proposed. Surprisingly, the rest of the mob grew silent at the request; even if begrudgingly on some accounts.

[Felicity Hjort]

At first, the lioness thought she was going to experience for the first time ever, the occupants of the portraits leap from their portraits and attack her. But then she told herself that was a silly idea, no matter how angry the occupants could be, she wasn't doing anything against rules or the law. Felicity just wanted to gain a bit more knowledge on and insight to the Headmistress, and what better way to find that than by asking those she's closest too? And while she still didn't know the reasons for the portraits on the walls, she figured there had to be a good reason why they were up there.

The claustrophobic noise was chilling, she had barely been able to state anything and they were all over her all ready. It was a bit like being with Drew, him shooting down an idea before she even got a chance to explain it, but this was a huge difference because there were so many different voices.

Jaw dropped slightly in disgust that they wouldn't even listen to her, give her a chance to explain, that she probably looked a bit more than slack-jawed. Really now, she wanted information so she could write an article, the same reason she'd done the interview only a bit before, but this time was a little different. The best way to get a bit of information on someone was when they didn't know you were collecting. And Felicity was sure the woman had little to no idea.

"Please...?" she trailed off, her voice being drowned with the others. This was going to be harder than she thought. Not to mention, she didn't think there'd be that many eyes to get a good eyesight of her. If they told...well...she'd be in a lot more trouble than she wanted to be.

A voice spoke out, it was neither loud nor demanding, but it sounded both, especially when the rest of the chatter cut out. Turning about slowly, she tried to pick out the portrait that had spoken, but there were just so many of them. Any one of them could've been the one to speak, but which would make the rest be silent without using silencing charm?

But it didn't take long to sort out the man, many eyes were on him, his face, and those beautiful blue eyes. They actually reminded Felicity a bit of her dad's, but they were still much different, though they held the same understanding look her dad gave her in times like these.

"I--I'd like to write another article on the Headmistress," Felicity started explaining. "I plan on completing the article I came in to gather information on a bit ago, but I'd like to write another. I'd like to write one on who she really is, the woman behind of the face of Hogwarts. While I managed to gather a information that was more than informative, I'd like to gather more. Information she doesn't feed me, but real information, facts on her that none other would know..."

No, that didn't sound quite right. It almost sounded...dirty. Felicity didn't want to sound like she was one of those dirty reporters.

"No, that doesn't sound right. I mean, I want information about her that she doesn't give me, but I don't want...dirty information," the lioness tried again, knowing it still didn't sound right. "I just, I want to know what I can about her without it being tainted by her. I don't want her to tell me things, because it won't be quite right, and if it comes from those she's most around, it'd be less...tainted, less pulled by strings, more truthful."

[Tamis Raynor]

For a long moment after the speech there was mercifully a period of complete silence. The drafty wind customary of high altitudes could actually be heard gently battering the various windows of the tower. Some stared at the fifth year as if she had sprouted three heads, others stuck their noses up at her, but the vast majority was now eying her critically with newfound interest and consideration. Phineas was stuck somewhere between all three. He stroked the beard highlighting the sharp point of his chin. So, the little blond horror wanted the cold hard dirt on Tamis Raynor? If it would have been his character, he would have squealed in delight. But at the same time, the question of why came to mind. It was odd for a student to show that much interest in a Head. He leaned a little further out of his chair, mouth opening.

But he was beat to the punch. On numerous accounts.

“This is absurd, completely disrespectful,” a wizard in a top hat proposed with a squeak.

“Agreed! It is unjust if the woman can’t speak for herself.”

There was a murmur of various agreements and Black was forced to roll his eyes in exasperation. If he did not continue to serve a purpose on this forsaken patch of wall, he would have abandoned this three-ring circus long ago. What were they, a bunch of blundering muggles? Well, some came close. That was trye enough. Patiently, his gaze sidestepped to the “Greatest Headmaster Hogwarts Had Ever Seen.”

The mentioned man had a troubled frown on his face as he considered the girl standing below them. He was twiddling his thumbs idly and almost subconsciously humming a tune. Those blue eyes were filled with that mischievous sparkle that usually meant disaster for anyone else.

“I believe we should hear Miss Hjort out.” He suggested, never turning his half-moon spectacles from Felicity. “Perhaps, if we find a question too personal, she will accept our declination to respond?”

“Right you are, Albus.” A stern looking Witch piped up.

“Why, thank you, Minerva.”

With so many other portraits speaking out of turn (that was usually his job after all), Phineas was compelled by the overwhelming urge to speak. So he sniffed slightly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Gryffindor.

“Besides,” Black offered, “she illegally broke into the Headmistress’ office, I doubt we could shake her off if we tried.” A small dark chuckle. “And we never do get variety these days when it comes to conversing.”

[Felicity Hjort]

The silence was rather...unnerving. Or was it the looks she received from those in portraits that could talk? If anything, she felt she had the right to be staring at them the exact way they stared at her right then. It would only be right and proper. A talking portrait? Talk about a little bit odd, in the very least. But at least she'd been prepared for talking portraits, moving photographs, those who'd moved on still having the ability to speak through a portrait of themselves.

She really felt the right to stare, but didn't have it in her with that wind and the silence.

And then finally someone was kind enough to break it, even if they weren't enthused with what she had to say.

"Disrespectful?" she questioned, feeling at a loss. What was with the amount of people lately and their sudden concern for respect? "You think it's disrespectful of me to want to show everyone else who Professor Raynor is?" Turning to face another portrait, she glared. "It's unjust when I gave her a chance to speak for herself all ready?"

Were they all law and rule oriented? If so, she was sure many would get along with Alexander just fine.

"Was it not disrespectful for Professor Raynor to choose those who were needed in the January in the Great Hall to leave? For her to completely, at least seemingly, brush off the events of what happened? For her to ignore those who were truly involved while she played tea party with the man in charge at the time?" The tone was harsher than she'd meant for it to become, it was angrier than she thought she really was. "Isn't it unjust for her to act like everything is fine and dandy and then completely ignore students who might want to speak with her about some things? For her to not at least try and explain her way of thinking to someone who might not understand?"

Drew had tried, and she'd gotten angry at him for doing so. How did he know what the woman had been thinking? How did he know she wasn't like the last Headmistress who apparently had close ties with them?

And then the room seemed to quiet, she hadn't paid much attention to what was going on, knowing those piercing blue eyes did not seem to blink. He was willing to hear her out, and it seemed another was, but really, how many could she trust?

Rolling her light brown eyes with the comment from the man whose face she'd memorized, Felicity turned to face him. "Is it really illegal if I had the password?" she retorted. In her eyes, no it wasn't.

Turning right back around to face the man whose eyes reminded her a bit of her fathers, she waited, but only for a moment. "I'd like my questions I all ready asked to be answered."

[Tamis Raynor]

And now, Phineas felt his initial opinions of this young girl changing. He hated children for this precise reason; they always felt they had to be right about everything and that they deserved answers to everything. Ungrateful little runts that used the school that taught them, and forgot completely when they became great individuals that Hogwarts helped them get there. He had abhorred teaching for that precise reason; it was impossible to expand minds that all ready thought they knew everything that was needed to know.

Dilys Derwent sniffed at the glare and forward nature of Hjort, her long silver ringlets bouncing with the shake of her head. But it was with kindness that she responded. “It is disrespectful, my dear, when you attempt to get such information about a person behind their back. There was not a single question you asked that she did not answer.”

The conceding murmurs were drowned out by the rest of the rant, and they all feel into shocked silence at the outburst, even Black himself, who was notorious for his rude and sarcastic nature. A few eyes widened, some paled, and others just stared at her incredulously. Dumbledore, however, looked extremely thoughtful and troubled, gaze never leaving the Gryffindor.

Phineas decided it was his time to back out of this conversation when he was addressed directly. He glared hotly back at the fifth year. “Having a key to a friend’s house does not give you permission to enter without consent. Students!” He rolled his eyes. “They always know better than their elders.”

“Phineas[,” Dumbledore implored and one of the few Slytherin Headmasters retreated in mutters.

The long white haired wizard then turned his undivided attention back to Felicity. “Manners are a useful tool. Demanding answers of us is rude. In such circumstances, a simple ‘please’ would suffice.” He lectured gently but firmly, and then hesitated. “You ask a lot of difficult questions. And yes, they are difficult to answer, as you have some misinterpretation on events. As you explain it, you expected Tamis Raynor to come flourishing in, wand raised as she took down as many dark wizards before she herself was taken down. Very heroic, but heroes seldom live long. What use would she have been to the school dead?”

Another pause as he seemed to calculate a response. “We seem to have an impression of two completely different women however. Those students she “saved” were transported here by that Portkey. She never intended to save them, but to give others a chance to help the school Tamis Raynor and Robert Shaw have a long and complicated history, she knew that to fool such a man, she had to fool everyone. She did not chose them to leave, but gave them a chance to fight from the outside; students that you admit yourself are quite capable. She sacrificed her reputation for your lives. But we don’t expect you to understand that.”

And then, McGonagall piped in, seemingly unable to contain herself much longer. “No one is arguing that the woman is infallible. She’s high tempered, stubborn, and was a complete nuisance as a student. She is also very guarded, always was since she started at Hogwarts in her first year. To really answer your questions, you need to answer one of ours. How much do you really know about Tamis Raynor?”

[Felicity Hjort]

No, at the time there was not a single question that went unanswered, but who was to say if she did cross a line and ask a question considered out of bounds and over the line, that the woman would have given her something? Could any of them give her proof that Raynor would have answered any question she asked? And as far as the blonde was concerned, she had enough proof they did not know themselves. They were angered by her, which was something that should have been taken into consideration when she made her plan. Yet, none of them were putting her thirsting quells to rest. The only ones they could truly speak for were themselves, and all had by telling her the same thing van Aller had about respect. Did they not think respect worked both ways? That in order to gain some, you had to show it yourself? Yes, Raynor had answered a few questions, but had not given inclination to answer others. Drew hadn't spoken up any bit about questions he could have had. With how much she knew he respected their Headmistress, she couldn't even talk to him about anything. Celina liked Raynor, and Felicity wasn't about to speak to her best friend about it either. No, she didn't feel right about keeping it inside, but what other choice did she truly have?

Returning the same look to the woman who spoke, Felicity couldn't do more. Yes, it was a horrible why to do something, but when it felt like the only way? No one else was answering her questions, she'd all ready paid dues to van Aller by the amount of House points lost for asking a simple question that the woman did not even know how to begin to answer. Their discussion had turned into the idea of what respect was, and how Felicity had been showing none. There are other ways of getting information, that was what the woman had told her, and Felicity found another way, and yet, still no answers at the moment.

"She's not my friend," the blonde replied shortly. Had the woman been a friend, Felicity would not have dared to enter, but she wasn't. At the moment the closest thing the woman was was an enemy. It made a huge difference in opinion of what was right and what was wrong, to gain information on someone that wasn't considered friendly, especially when she didn't want dirt just enough to know who the woman was, wasn't wrong.

"And demanding respect of someone is rude as well," she answered with a bite meant more for anyone who was grumbling than for the man with the long white beard. While she might have been young, considered a child, she still felt that respect could not just be given freely. van Aller demanded it of her, just as these people demanded it of her, Felicity respected them, they were older, but it didn't mean she had to respect them any more than that. Just as with everyone, one had to earn respect, they could not just demand it of someone.

And what was he talking of? She did not expect the woman to take everyone that was there down, but she had expected her to do more than play tea party with that horrible man. She came in alone, she didn't bring anyone with her, she sat back and let what happened go on. Very little fight, no more than any of the students gave. Maybe she'd been expecting more of someone who was supposed to be a school leader, after all, the Headmistress was in cahoots with the faceless figures.

As for where those students were, she knew. Drew had told her what happened, what they did. But she still had chosen people to leave. Whether it was for a ridiculous mission that got them locked up anyway, or to just endanger them all the more, they were chosen to leave the confines of the Ground Floor. "She chose them to save others, and still put their lives in more danger than ever."

A simple statement that was still the truth Felicity saw. What if something had happened to any of them? Raynor would've been the one to blame, not the Deva, or that man, but Raynor. What if Hannah had gotten hurt? Yes, she did believe they were capable, but still, they were students. And as for her reputation? Felicity couldn't have cared less. A reputation was only something others tacked onto a person. So what? She could have lost her reputation? Whoop-de-do.

And then another person spoke, a woman even more formidable looking than van Aller. But how much did she know of the woman? Only the things she'd mentioned during the interview, which was hardly anything, and what Drew had told her. "Headmistress Raynor was in Ravenclaw as a student, she's an ex-auror, began teaching here at Hogwarts, was made the Deputy Headmistress her second year of teaching, was married not long back and gave birth to a little girl, both of whom seem to have disappeared since." And no, she didn't mean for it to sound as though they randomly fell from the face of the earth, it was just no one really seemed to know where they went.

The woman had a large preference for tea, she taught with a deep passion for practicals that Felicity hated, she kept too close to herself and none other, and she despised of animals it seemed. Obviously there had to be more...

[Tamis Raynor]

“No, she is not your friend,” the silver haired woman repeated, but dropped the issue. They were memories of the past, each one of them more use to simply answering questions from the current Head person than answer them to others about their current charge. A shame really that Fiona Ticloon had been such a traitor; she could have provided more depth than any of them put together.

Dumbledore continued to stare unfading at Felicity from his frame while some of the others muttered in their frames or went back to pretending to sleep. The vast majority remained attentive on the conversation, including Phineas himself, who practically had his pointed nose pressed against the canvas.

The demanding respect comment shushed the remaining mutters and Black wrinkled the bridge of his nose. Times had changed indeed. At one point in time, the Headmaster of this school was practically Merlin himself on campus. His word was law and one did not dare cross it. But now a woman was in charge, and they always tended to be more forgiving and compassionate than they should – and the children with every passing year seemed to get a stronger impression that they were suppose to have respected rights as well. If only they knew what detentions were like in his days…

“You have done your homework,” Dumbledore commented with a twinkling smile and a nod of his head to the information that was supplied on the Headmistress. “She was a brilliant student at Hogwarts, made excellent marks in everything but Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, and had a delinquent route of entertaining herself in the free time she had as a result. Part of that, I believe, was rebellion against her current position in life; she was orphaned as a young child at the end of the First War with Lord Voldemort and was a ward of the Ministry until she turned seventeen.”

A snort escaped McGonagall and little further away from him. “Ha! She was a complete nuisance. The whole lot of them, Alridge, Dabbage, Tulip… Shaw was the only constraining factor on that clique. Amazing what she could do in Transfiguration. It took us a week to figure out she had turned Worthing into a chair after he –“ She cleared her throat as if second guessing finishing that statement.

Dumbledore came to her rescue, continuing. “At 20, she was tortured with the Unforgivables and lost her fiancé in the same night, and changed career paths from a Healer to become an Auror. It was all over the Prophet, you might still be able to find the article.”

And then he hesitated. “Tamis Raynor has had to fight for everything in life. She sees any show of emotion as a weakness just to be exploited. Everyone she has cared about seems to come to harm. She was betrayed in her friendship with Robert Shaw. Her family did not disappear, they are hiding. She had to shove her ex-husband away because he was a muggleborn, and her daughter will live the rest of her life in hiding without ever knowing her mother because she is half-blood, if this war does not stop.

“If Headmistress Raynor knows anything, it is loss and war. It is harder to fight that war as a leader, you have to make the choices others cannot, and you have to understand that your choices will be disliked and suffer that fact in order to save their lives.” His expression softened and eyes glistened a bit, “it is a pain I understand. Everyone she believed she could trust; Robert Shaw and Fiona Ticloon betrayed her. I believe the Professor has lost her sense of trust. I think she truly believes she is alone. She doesn’t sleep, but paces every night, torn by personal conflicts and the student’s safety. As a leader, if she is to show weakness, how would that reflect on you, the students? She acts as if nothing has happened because she must, if she dwells, the school will dwell and it will not move on. Everything she has done, she has done to make sure Hogwarts’ inhabitants have a future. Is it wrong to put a handful of lives in danger, when it could save hundreds? You may see it as disrespectful, and you are entitled to, but I am sure, that with all of this on her mind, we can condemn her for not explaining all of this to a fifth year Gryffindor she is trying her hardest to protect.”

Phineas groaned in his portrait, slumping in his high back throne. What was this, the bloody unsung hero speech? The man was of course conveniently leaving out all of the dirty little facts about Tamis Raynor, making her seem to be a perfect little angel. He snorted, hoping that Gryffindor would not be as daft as to be that blind.

“That’s it, Dumbledore,” Phineas yawned, “always the optimist in seeing the best in everyone.” He snorted.

[Felicity Hjort]

“A reporter cannot enter a case cold, sir,” Felicity answered. This was a case, a story, and she could not try and gain information without knowing something. What she knew was only basics, the basics of basics, and likely anyone could've told that bit of information. It was hard researching information on someone that really had nothing out there to find information on. What she knew was from her own observations and the very few whispers on the wind she'd managed to catch when speaking to a few, but only a very select few. Had she chose to broaden her horizons and asked many more, she probably would've known more about the woman, but such was not the case, and Drew hardly spoke about her, only his admiration for the Headmistress, and Felicity dared not to ask more about her from him knowing that only another fight would break out between them in the end due to their differences of opinion on the subject matter.

But something the man went on to speak of didn't make a whole lot of sense to Felicity. If she hadn't been good at Defense, then how was she able to go into being an Auror, wasn't that one of the required N.E.W.T.s? She was pretty sure it was. And on top of that, how could she teach Defense if she wasn't any good at it? Again, shouldn't there be a N.E.W.T. Requirement? Or maybe she'd improved, or she really wasn't as bad at it as Felicity was thinking she must've been. Then again, when Felicity was bad at a subject, she was really bad at it. So maybe she was just going off her own judgment? Possibly.

And yet another piece of information. Felicity didn't know she'd been an orphan. A ward, as the man had stated. To have no family. Yes, she knew many didn't really have families, but to have no one at all? She didn't have an aunt or an uncle to take her in? Not even a grandparent? Or did she, and they just refused? Or were they not given the chance? But an orphan?

However, the conversation switched over to the formidable looking woman again, and there was almost a hint of amusement and awe on her voice, but barely. Felicity wondered if the woman had ever really laughed, rather than just gave away that hint. The story was likely to be an interesting one, she was sure of it, but it was cut short when the woman seemed to catch herself on what she was going to say. But with what the blonde's own mind jumped to, she was sure the boy probably deserved what Raynor did, but her attention was turned back to the man who reminded Felicity a bit of Father Christmas, excepting he was too thin.

The Unforgivables? The very same thing she was told was used on her? Well, one of them. And if she remembered correctly, there were only three. One meant death for all but one person in known history, one meant the ability to control the actions of another, and the third...well, she knew what it did. That was something she hadn't known, something she would be spending a good amount of time in the library looking for now. And to lose someone? Her first thoughts went to Celina, and how that following month had been just not speaking to her, but to lose forever?

Keeping a biting comment to herself about emotion being a weakness, she continued to listen. The woman shoved someone she loved, supposedly loved away because he was muggleborn? Immediately, her first thoughts went to that of the conversations of Purity and Impurity that took place during the invasion. Raynor was a pureblood, that much was known as well, and she pushed aside a muggleborn? Even if it was to “protect” him, she pushed him aside? And to punish her daughter, never allowing her to see her mum? Did this woman truly think that was saving them?

“But by acting as though nothing has happened, it only allows for history to repeat itself,” Felicity curtly countered. “If you go on your daily life acting as though nothing has changed, for the better or the worse, you're only allowing the opening for the door of repetition to get wider. If she keeps going on as though nothing did happen in January, she's allowing for such events to happen again, and again.”

“And to allow an eleven year old to be put in such circumstances? What if something did happen to Hannah? How was Professor Raynor going to explain to that girl's parents that she made the decision to sacrifice an eleven year old?” To put a handful of lives in danger for anything was still too dangerous for so many things. At least with Drew, Charlie, Gail, and Keagan, they were old enough, more experienced and probably more able to do something, but Hannah and Lianna? To sacrifice the lives of two so young? Even if Hannah did have a bit of spit and fire to her, Raynor was truly willing to give them over? “And if she were to show weakness, it would only show that she's human and not anything above what we are.”

Why was it adults seemed so bent on showing they were above students?

“And yes, that's right. Explaining anything to a fifth year Gryffindor is too far below her.” The woman was not protecting her. If anything, she was keeping things from her, again a way to make history repeat itself. And just why would she need protection from that woman? Because she was a half blood? One who grew up in the muggle world? The granddaughter of a squib? If Raynor truly thought she needed to protect Felicity because of that, it wasn't a very good case; how many were there that were much more likely to be put in danger than Felicity? Too many.

And maybe this man with the long beard was an optimist, she didn't know. But Raynor really wasn't doing a good job at protecting or leading in Felicity's opinion.