Chapter Text
First and foremost, Hogwarts was a castle. A place of safety and protection. And she would protect all within, even from themselves.
As soon as her children entered her for the first time, they were hers. She knew them deeply, as she felt their magic intertwine with hers from the first moment.
The year Harry Potter entered Hogwarts she knew that something was coming. That manipulative Headmaster had been plotting, and his excitement was growing.
She felt the strength of her Harry’s magic the moment he walked through the door. It reached out to meet her joyfully, with all the glee a child should have, and far more scars than any child should bear.
He was hers, now, and she would care for him like all the others, but he would bear special watching, especially with that Headmaster so focused on him. The house elves had reported the old goat cackling in his tower more than once in the weeks preceding the first of September. And she’d already started moving to dissemble some of his plans and plots.
She would keep her Harry safe now.
There was no troll to almost catch her Hermione Granger on Halloween night. Hogwarts had been forced to let the creature in due to that Headmaster’s meddling, but she had almost immediately contained it in a solid stone room with no exits. When the professors came looking for the troll, there were large, flashing signs pointing towards the room containing the troll. This incited mild panic, until lovely, capable McGonagall and Snape worked together to stun the thing and remove it from the castle so that the Department of Creature Safety could relocate it. The professors found her Hermione along with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, safe and sound in an abandoned classroom. Her Harry had stared Ron Weasley into an apology, and the three of them were closer to friends than before.
There had been no Quirrell to raise a fuss about a troll in the castle, as she had removed that parasite from him the second he’d walked through her wards. Possession of one of hers was Not Allowed, and she had made it so. He’d stumbled and looked slightly confused before carrying on. The soul piece that had once been part of her Tom had been placed into a mirror hidden within the castle. The soul piece didn’t have enough sentience to be aware, not without the one it was possessing, but the mirror still radiated vague malevolence. She’d made sure that Headmaster couldn’t ever find it. Since Quirrell hadn’t found the troll as planned, that Headmaster had made one of her house elves raise a fuss. Awful man, forcing them into that sort of a bond. She’d tried to remove it, tried so hard, but he’d drained her of so much, and the elves had told her they would bear it until they could remove the old goat and restore her.
Since Quirrell had no parasite soul piece, the Quidditch games went unimpeded. No curses or jinxes, and her Hermione Granger did not light a professor on fire. (That time, anyways. She was such a precocious girl.)
(There was still a dragon brought on the grounds, but she’d had the house elves remove the egg before it hatched and take it to the dragon sanctuary in Romania. Such a good lad, her Charlie.)
She’d scolded her Severus Snape the best she could, for his treatment of those supposed to be under his care, but she understood that he was under a vow to that Headmaster, who’d taken it and twisted it for his own purposes. She couldn’t free him, not yet. And he’d tried his best, once she’d given him a reminder via the house elves. He had always been willing to listen to her.
That ridiculous obstacle course that Headmaster had forced the professors to set up was dismantled almost instantly, of course. The cerebrus was removed from the third-floor hallway and shuffled out to Hagrid, who was delighted. That Headmaster kept making him put it back, but she was persistent. And Hagrid learned to hide it better; happy and safe in her forest.
The Devil’s Snare was sent back to the greenhouse where it belonged, and her Pomona Sprout never told. (A small cutting made its way to her Neville Longbottom, where it flourished to his delight, and to the mild terror and utmost respect of the other boys in the dorm. There was much less cruel teasing that year, for some reason. She did the best she could.)
Those excellent flying keys were encased in a small room, with an unbreakable glass wall facing one of the corridors around the Charms classrooms. They were an excellent piece of spellwork, after all. She was very proud of her Filius Flitwick. When that Headmaster had asked him about them, he’d simply laughed and said weren’t they an excellent demonstration of what Charms could do, and that he’d made a few extra to be used as such. She’d sent one of the elves his way that evening with his favourite pastry, as a reward. He’d smiled, and thanked her.
The giant chessboard was relocated as well, to an empty classroom on the fourth floor. She’d gotten the house elves to tweak the magic, so players were now only marched off at sword point, rather than bashed over the head and dragged off. Much safer that way, and still an excellent education tool and great piece of fun, for those who discovered it. That Headmaster was not one of them, to her delight. Though McGonagall had smiled when she'd noticed it, pleased, and started sending students that way.
There was no troll, as she’d already removed it, same as the other one. She did not approve of this continued breaching of her wards by that Headmaster, and made her displeasure known. He still lived within her walls, after all.
The magic fire had been relocated within the castle, and the bottles with poisons and potions removed by one of her loyal house elves. If that fire ended up in a certain old goat’s fireplace, and if several items in his rooms mysteriously went missing in said fireplace, well, she was sure that was in her children’s best interests. No matter that it made the old goat enraged and paranoid. That was simply a side effect, if an enjoyable one.
As for the mirror, well, she’d needed somewhere to put her Tom’s soul piece. An already magic mirror was easiest, and it was convenient as well. A mirror that people could waste away in front of was not something that belonged anywhere close to her children.
The precious stone that had been hidden within the mirror had been removed. She’d finally been able to contact Gringotts at winter holidays, since they were quite a ways away, and she hadn’t spoken to them in so very long. Over a hundred years, she believed, by the way humans measured things. She quite preferred how the hedgehogs measured time, by the others they met, thank you very much. The stone had been transported back to Gringotts by means of a house elf and goblin escort and returned to its rightful owner. (Nicholas Flamel hadn’t been one of hers, but he’d visited once, and she’d quite liked the depth of his magic. Like a deep ocean sinkhole, calm and dangerous. Quite polite, too.)
She had to watch, unable to interfere, when her Harry Potter had begged that Headmaster to let him stay over the summer, and had been told no. She’d quivered with rage and watched with deep satisfaction as that Headmaster had twitched for days. Her lovely, lovely house elves had come up with an idea, however, that helped sate her protective fury. They would take shifts to watch over Harry Potter, without using any magic that would register at the Ministry, and would make sure he ate and was as safe as could be without getting caught or making those around him suspicious. Since she had no reach in the Muggle world, they would be her hands, eyes, and feet.
That would have to be good enough for now, though she waited anxiously for the day he would be back under her roof and safe.