CH77 - Mr. Tom, a ***** Lover

In an opulent lounge, thirteen men and women sat by a conference table, each with a large binder full of administrative parchment in front of them: Hogwarts' Board of Governors and its Headmaster. Meetings before the beginning of a new school year generally consisted of debates regarding allocating the scarce resources that were available to them.

Tedious. Monotonous. Boring. Dull. Repetitive.

These were all words that could typically be used to describe these sessions. One thing they were not was interesting. And yet, all ears in the room were listening with rapt attention as one man spoke.

"As you all know, the Statute of Secrecy came into effect in 1692. Recently, I found myself reading through various accounts from the era, including the edition of 'Hogwarts, a History' released around then. You see, I was curious about how Hogwarts had changed over the years," Marvolo expressed charismatically as he retrieved an ancient copy of the aforementioned tome. "I was rather surprised by what I found."

"Instead of Halloween, Christmas, and the Spring Equinox," he practically spat, "I found mentions of Samhain, Yule, and Beltane. Even Imbolc, Ostara, and Mabon were celebrated back then, commemorated with feasts and drinking, bonfires and log burnings."

The book was passed around with intrigue as everyone conversed with their neighbours regarding its contents. The traditionalist purebloods sniffed with superiority as the progressives silently analyzed the pictures being presented to them.

Albus Dumbledore, alone, kept his eyes trained on Lord Slytherin steadfastly.

"I was, understandably, baffled by this," Marvolo said dramatically. "When did these traditions die out? And so, I did some further investigation." Digging into the pouch he had brought with him, he removed copy after copy of Hogwarts, a History, each one a different edition from the last.

"As it turns out, pagan festivals were so ingrained into our society at the time that no one thought they needed to be taught in much detail to the students. It was a non-issue. The wizarding world's traditions were known by all and were hence only a small portion of the History of Magic curriculum at the time," he explained. "Meanwhile, after we separated from our non-magical counterparts, Muggle Studies was introduced as an elective course in the early 1700s. The purpose was, of course, for us to remain abreast of the happenings in the muggle world. Now, we could argue all day about the effectiveness of the course in doing so—"

A smattering of chuckles broke out. Even the most stubborn of purebloods knew how outdated Muggle Studies had become.

"—but the point is, muggle culture slowly became more and more relevant in Hogwarts. So much so that its new festivals continuously grew in popularity until the pagan ones were done away with altogether," Marvolo finished sadly.

"Now," he clapped his hands. "Why am I bringing this up to you today? Obviously, we cannot go about converting all the children in Hogwarts to paganism. That's not my intention. However, I find myself saddened by our loss of cultural identity. Moreover, I find it odd that we do not attempt to do anything about it. Thus, in the spirit of inclusivity and demonstrating our origins to those curious about them, I propose that we reintroduce the celebration of pagan festivals at Hogwarts for all those who wish to partake in them. What say you?"

Silence.

Then loud cheers broke out, interspersed with a few more tentative agreements.

Marvolo smiled, raising his goblet in Dumbledore's direction.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Edmund swallowed a gulp of water as he admired the sun-dappled leaves swaying in the cool summer breeze. As he recapped the bottle with one hand, his other slapped against his bare calf, swatting away a stray mosquito that had landed upon it. Wincing at the itching sensation that had already begun to take root in several locations on his arms and legs, he clicked his tongue in self-reproach. 'I should have worn longer clothes and applied an overpowered cooling charm on myself instead of dealing with all this.'

As he gazed at the sight around him, however, his irritation swiftly dissipated. It was far too pleasant of a day to waste time on such trivial matters.

Through the trees, he could see a large wooden hut on the very boundaries of the forest. For once, no smoke was billowing from its chimney; the unusually warm weather meant that the fireplace was getting a rare respite. A little way ahead of it, a magnificent castle shone in the light. Its stone walls reflected the sun's rays like a mirror, making the entire structure glow like a paragon of beauty.

Hogwarts.

"Didn't think I would miss it this much," he murmured.

A scoff came from behind him. "Clearly, you don't miss me though, considering how long you've made me wait."

Edmund smiled, already knowing who was there because of his mind sense. He turned unhurriedly, giving the centaur standing behind him a shrug. "Meh."

"Is that right? 'Meh?' I guess you don't need my help after all," the speaker harrumphed, crossing her arms and tapping her back left hoof repeatedly.

Edmund's eye twitched. "For once in your life, could you please act like the mature one between us? Please? Is that too much to ask?"

The centaur snorted. "Oh, alright, you spoilsport. What took you so long, then?"

"The dark lord doesn't exactly like that a 'half-breed' knows more than him about something that I need help with," Edmund replied, immediately raising his hands to appease her. "No matter how much more experience I know you have with magic involving nature."

"Well, the 'dark lord' shouldn't be throwing tantrums when he's confronted with the fact that there are more masters of sorcery in this world than just him," she huffed. "And what's this with you calling him the dark lord? There hasn't been a taboo on his name for over a decade."

Edmund glanced at her incredulously. "Okay, first, you, of all people, cannot criticize someone else for being childish. You just can't. Second, it's probably not a good idea for me to start calling him Voldemort out of fear for, you know, my life?"

The speaker rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, that's true enough," she admitted, ignoring his first two sentences. "Have you ever wondered why he couldn't come up with something a little scarier than Voldemort, though? I mean, the name doesn't exactly strike terror into the heart."

"Say that to the vast majority of magical Britain, who shudder at the very thought of it," Edmund retorted, even as lips curled up. "Besides, getting 'I am Lord Voldemort' from 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' is pretty impressive. I'd like to see you do better."

"What?" the speaker smirked slyly, waiting until Edmund took another sip from his flask. "You don't like 'Mr. Tom, a dildo lover' more?"

He spluttered, choking on his drink as the centaur cackled. It took several minutes for the duo to stop giggling, by which point they had reached a much deeper section of the woods.

As they came to a stop in a clearing, Edmund sighed, sobering up in an instant. "You're sure about this whole thing, right?"

"Have some faith in me," the speaker answered, looking him directly in the eyes to express her sincerity.

"Alright then," he said decisively as he pulled the egg out of his satchel. "Let's hatch this thing."