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The Tuesday Maethe receives the owl is much like any other Tuesday in recent months. The war is over, and Voldemort is dead, so many witches and wizards around the world have been trying their best to return to life as normal. For the Aakre family, that meant the reinstatement of Family Lunch Tuesdays. Sure, the table would always feel empty with Eivind, Linnea, and Sigve there around it, but it’s grown to feel rather full, with Maethe’s husband Omen and their daughter Star. Harry still visits sometimes, too, which always puts a smile on both Torill and Andreas’s faces. Of course, Harry still isn’t really their grandson, but Maethe suspects they just enjoy having another person around the table. His parents were always people for a big family, and they’ve treasured the time as their family grows again.
This Tuesday lunch is a bit less crowded, though. Star has fallen a bit ill, so Omen decided to stay at home with her, leaving Maethe alone with his parents. They’ve been chatting, catching up on work the past week, and enjoying each other’s company. As always, Torill is encouraging Maethe to eat more–she thinks he’s growing too thin–and Andreas is regaling them with stories of what’s happened at his wand shop over the past week.
“I’ve had so many young witches and wizards come in looking for their very first wand,” Andreas explains, “It seems there were lots of parents who didn’t feel it was safe enough to send their kids off to school last year, so they’re all trying to get in this year.”
“Is Hogwarts even going to have room for all those students?” Torill asks, pushing another plate of food in Maethe’s direction.
“Apparently, they haven’t announced yet what they’ll do about it,” Andreas responds.
“Professor McGonagall has her work cut out for her, though, that’s for sure,” Maethe laughs, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, “but if anyone can handle it, it’s her.”
“She handled whatever you got up to in school well enough, at least,” Torill teased with a smirk, starting back on her own plate.
“And I’m sure it didn’t stop when you were a professor,” Andreas chuckled, “but at least you’re not teaching there anymore, right?”
No sooner than he’d said it, there was a screech at the window. The family all turned and saw the owl. Clutched in its beak was a small envelope, and even through the glass, Maethe recognizes the wax seal.
“You’re joking,” he mutters, and Andreas starts laughing madly.
Torill is stifling a laugh, and she looks at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “Well, you know better than to keep her waiting, don’t you?”
Maethe shoots his mother a faux irritated look before getting up and walking over to the entryway, then the door. When he opens it, the owl is looking at him expectantly, head cocked as it observes him. He gently reaches out and takes the envelope, the bird letting it go before quickly lifting off to fly away.
His fingers are trembling as he turns the envelope over to see the seal of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Maethe’s name is etched onto the white paper, written in handwriting he’s known for years. After all, this penmanship had graded his papers. Opening the envelope is quick work, but his shaking fingers still manage to complicate things. Eventually, he’s back in the dining room and reading aloud, his parents looking up at him expectantly.
"Dear Maethe Osmund Aakre.
It is my pleasure to extend to you an invitation to return to your position as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Upon further investigation of the events leading to your termination, we have determined that the evidence against you was false. Additionally, based on multiple student and alumni accounts, you were listed as an exemplary professor. Based on this evidence, we believe you would be an invaluable asset to our faculty. Please see the attached letter for more details.
Term begins on 1 September, though professors are welcome to move in at any time before that. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress"
“Maethe, this is amazing!” Torill stands, walking over to where Maethe has been lurking in the front hallway. “I know you loved that job, it’ll be nice to go back, won’t it?”
“I suppose,” Maethe mutters, “I’d convinced myself it would never happen. I’m-I’ll have to discuss it with Omen.”
“If you think he won’t support you, you’re crazy,” Andreas says. “That man would follow you to the ends of the earth. If you think he wouldn’t follow you to Scotland, you don’t even know him.”
“I know,” Maethe sighs, “but after the war, we—well, we were looking forward to some time together, where nothing else was going wrong. I was looking forward to finally having some peace.”
“Peace?” Torill asks with a cocked eyebrow, “Maethe, you’re an Auror. The Ministry is going to be cleaning up the rest of the effects of the war for ages. Honestly, going to teach is probably a more stable option.”
“That’s true,” Maethe admits, then shuffled the pages to see the second letter. This one isn’t stamped with the seal of Hogwarts, nor is it nearly so formal. The elaborate, looping handwriting of the first letter has also been exchanged for a quick, scratching script.
"Maethe.
Rebuilding Hogwarts is not going to be an easy task. The incoming student class this year is massive, the largest Hogwarts has seen in centuries. Additionally, we’ll have students coming back who chose not to return last year. We’ll have our hands full with a student body size unlike any the school has seen before.
Because of this influx of students, we have decided to expand our faculty. If you accept this position, you will not be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts alone. I have already spoken to Remus, and he will be returning, as well. You’ll be teaching separate sections of the class, but you’re free to work together to build curriculum and plan lessons, as well as come in for guest teaching purposes.
Additionally, Maethe, as headmistress, I can no longer serve as the head of Gryffindor house. It is my belief that you are the most acceptable replacement.
I do hope that you’ll accept, but with how things have been going, I would understand if you don’t. Of course, I don’t expect you to accept without discussion, so please let me know when I can meet with you to discuss this further. Perhaps we can meet in Hogsmeade.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall"
“Head of Gryffindor house?” Andreas says, jaw dropped. “Maethe, that’s amazing!”
Torill nods, then, with a sad smile on her face, says, “It is. I think your siblings would’ve been proud.”
Just like that, Maethe’s decision is made. Of course, the Aakre family are a long line of Gryffindors, so there’s always been a sense of pride in their shared house. After his siblings’ death, though, Maethe has found himself latching onto anything he can find that can make him feel connected to them, and apparently, this is one of those things.
“I’ll do it,” Maethe says, “Yeah. I’ll do it.”
---------- One Week Later ----------
It’s easy to send the owl back to Professor McGonagall, and in another week, Maethe is apparating into an alley in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks is waiting, just like it always has been, even since he was a student. Of course that was about two decades ago, but it’s still exactly the same.
As he walks in, the smell of butterbeer and a wave of warmth hit him, and it’s something he’s missed for a long time. He turns to the left, a small corner table, where he sees Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sitting, two butterbeers in front of her. She sees him at the same time, and she stands to greet him.
“Maethe,” she says, a fond smile on her face, “It’s been too long. How are you doing?”
“Well, Professor–” Maethe stops to correct himself with a grin. “Sorry, Headmistress. I’ve been doing well. Omen is still doing wonderfully at his job, and Star is doing well, too. Oh, and my parents send their regards.”
“Oh, they don’t waste time, do they? Your mother’s always been so on top of things.” She gestures toward the booth. “Come, sit. I already ordered your butterbeer.”
McGonagall sits, and Maethe follows soon after. “They don’t waste time,” Maethe confirms, “but mostly they know because we were at our family lunch when I got your owl.” He smiles. “I’m glad I was. They gave me the encouragement I needed to take you up on the offer.”
“Well I’m glad, then.” She smiles warmly before schooling her face back to business. “First, Maethe, do you have any questions or need clarification on anything that was in my letter?”
“No, it was all very clear, but-” Maethe sighs, “Why was I your pick for Head of Gryffindor? I just–I feel like there have to be better options. I mean, why not Remus?”
“Addressing the first question,” she starts after a slow sip of butterbeer, “I picked you because I simply feel that you’re the best option. Maethe, you’re brave, you’re courageous, bold, strong-willed–everything Godric Gryffindor valued. You have a right strong moral compass, and I've never known you to back down from anything. Not to mention you come from a very long line of proud Gryffindors.” She paused, lowering her gaze just a moment before meeting his eyes again. “You’ve also shown great resilience and responsibility. You’ve seen the darkest side of those traits, and you’ve come out the other side. I am no stranger to the fact that Gryffindors are uniquely at risk to get carried away, and especially at this time, I think someone who’s learned that would be essential for our students. You can guide them in ways no other staff member is really equipped to.” She sighs. “As for Remus, Maethe, as much as we both dislike it, you know why it can’t be him.”
Maethe nods. “I do, yeah. And–yeah. That makes sense. I can do that for them.”
“Good.” The headmistress smiles. “I know you’ll be good for them, Maethe. Now, shall we discuss some of the finer details of your contract?”
“Of course, Headmistress,” Maethe can’t help but smile back. “Has anything largely changed?”
“Well, I’m glad to announce you’ll be paid more, since you’re a returning professor, as well as your extensive background in the field,” she explains. “Unfortunately, you’ll be sharing your office and classroom space with Remus, but–” she looks at him with a grin, “Considering how you were rarely there anyways, I suspect that won’t be too much a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Maethe asks, “I held all the required office hours.”
“You held them in the courtyard, Maethe,” Headmistress McGonagall laughs, “And a considerable amount of your classes, too, if I remember correctly.”
“I guess you’re not wrong,” Maethe chuckles, “but you’re right. I wouldn’t mind sharing with Remus.”
“You’ll also-” McGonagall starts, but she never manages to finish that thought.
“Headmistress!” A voice calls, “Oh, is that Professor Aakre?”
Maethe turns, and behind him is a young woman, probably about sixteen. She’s smiling, and Minerva greets her. “Miss Warbeck! It’s excellent to see you. What are you doing in Hogsmeade so far in the summer?”
“I’m just staying with my aunt until the school year,” she says. “What are you two doing here?”
Now, Maethe’s memory comes back. This is Erika Warbeck, a Ravenclaw Maethe taught when she was in her first year. She was smart, Maethe remembers, and she’d come to his office hours in the courtyard often to get additional help and learn things from the second and third years. He’s glad to see she’s doing well after the war and pleasantly surprised that she remembers him.
“Nothing I can discuss yet,” Professor McGonagall says, “but you’ll know by September, I promise.”
“I guess that’s fine,” Erika groans, then grins. “Well, professors, I’ll see you in September!”
With that, the girl turns on her heel and bounces away, calling off to an older woman who must be her aunt. Maethe turns back to Minerva and says, “She knows, doesn’t she?”
Headmistress McGonagall nods with a sigh. “Yes, I fear she does. The whole school will know in a week, I’m sure.”
“So much for a surprise,” Maethe laughs.
“So much indeed,” McGonagall chuckles, raising her glass in a toast, which Maethe enthusiastically returns.