On the sixth floor of Hogwarts classroom 6A is the Ancient Runes classroom. Having caught their breath after the long climb, Rowan chats with Andrew Abbott until Professor Babbling arrives. Not long after the petite witch in dark blue robes sweeps into the room. Her crooked dark hat remains just as crooked as her button nose. Still a tad pale, her coffee-colored hair was neatly pulled back as she gazes at the seated students with her blue and brown colored eyes.
"I'm certain that all of you completed your assigned homework and read the assigned chapter. I will collect the completed essays at the end of class," Professor Babbling matter-of-factly stated. "Now that all Hallow's Eve is nearly upon us we shall study the day. All Hallow's Eve has many names among them is Samhain, we shall study the ancient Samhain symbolic rune pentagrams. The ancients believed that by using these runes, they would be able to speak to those that have passed beyond the veil and receive answers to their questions."
Seeing the puzzled look on a few muggleborn Hufflepuffs, Professor Babbling elaborates, "The muggles once celebrated Samhain as we did, but unlike the muggles did. Wizardkind did not actively seek to speak to the dead as that is considered necromancy, a forbidden and most foul branch of magic." The muggleborn faces quickly change with fright as they shake their heads in understanding.
"However, that being said, simple divination is permittable on Samhain, it is still commonly practiced to this day by some," Professor Babbling clearly explained. "Mostly it is simple questions such as who one will marry, or when they will wed, or how many children they will have, and so forth."
Professor Babbling paused to emphasize the following statement. "I caution you. It is better not to ask about the future as the answers granted are not always well received. I implore you, do not ask a question that one would not want the answer to. I cannot stress this point enough. That is not a laughable matter, children, but a stern warning of caution."
Even some of the Slytherins gulp at the solemnity of Professor Babbling's words and decide it is better to not try to tempt fate. The muggleborn students pointedly jot down the information on their notes. 'Do not ask questions on Samhain.'
Turning to face the chalkboard, Professor Babbling first draws the symbol of the unknown that is represented by the number seven on the chalkboard. "Using a symbolic pentagram, that which is unknown is placed in the middle to indicate that the desire is knowledge. Corresponding four runes must be selected to represent the north, south, east, and west. Each rune that is selected must have a personal meaning at the individual level. No witch or wizard will ever have the exact same circle as each rune is quite unique to the caster," Professor Babbling explained.
Professor Babbling finished drawing an example on the board, before facing the class. "Now, please draw a symbolic runic circle for yourself and turn in the assignment by the end of the class period."
Everyone hurriedly opens their rune textbooks while Rowan pensively stares at her parchment in thought. To the North, she did not know what lay before her except for the possibility of unknown paths being taken. With a steady hand, she drew the symbol of the Runespoor. To the South is danger, an Acromantula. To the East is the unseen, a Demiguise. And to the West is hope, a Unicorn.
Finished, Rowan glanced around to find that most of the class was finishing up as she carefully gathered her things and waited for the class to end. Professor Babbling not long after says, "Time is up, please turn in your past homework and today's in-class assignment."
Professor Babbling gathers all the students' homework and in-class assignments and sees them out. A bit tired, she heads downstairs to the staff room for a quick cup of tea to fortify herself, before grading the students in class assignments. Those would be the easiest while the rest of the grading could wait after her last class of the day and dinner.
The staffroom is a long, paneled room full of old mismatched chairs that had seen better days. Professor McGonagall was sitting in a corner with a steaming teapot of tea as she read through some of her fifth-year student essays. Tsking every now and then she'd write a comment or make a correction to the assignment in the margins.
"And how are your 5th years doing this year, Minerva?" Professor Babbling asked as she took the seat across from the transfiguration professor.
Professor McGonagall made a face as she answered, "I fear that some of them won't even be able to pass at this rate."
"Surely they're not that bad," Professor Babbling teased as she took a sip of the steaming hot tea which felt quite good with the chill that had begun to set in.
"And you, Bathsheda?" Professor McGonagall politely inquired.
"My fifth years aren't as many as yours, Minerva," Professor Babbling murmured in response. "Nor do I expect many of them to advance any further. But those that will, I will be most happy to keep as my students."
That's quite the optimistic view, Bathsheda," Professor McGonagall mused as she pursed her lips.
Professor Babbling shrugs her shoulders, before reaching into her bag and pulling out the stack of that day's assignment. With ease, she either docked or gave points based on the precision of the drawn rune and how well the symbolic runes coordinated with the rest. One could tell if a thought had gone into the assignment or if the student had merely gone ahead and picked runes willy-nilly in order to complete the assignment.
Professor Babbling furrowed her brows as she read the assignment of one particular student. The runes were all drawn correctly and ordinarily, she would have even docked points for the rune circle. But the way, every single rune seemed to have been carefully drawn in correspondence to each other suggested otherwise. This was not the product of thoughtless craftmanship, but rather a deliberate and accurate description.
"Minerva, what do you make of this?" Professor Babbling broke the silence and held out the parchment over to the Transfiguration professor, but not before hiding the student's name.
Professor McGonagall raises her eyebrow at the request but still accepts the roll of parchment from the ancient runes' professor. "You do realize that I am the Transfiguration professor and it's been years since I've studied runes, Bathsheda?"
"I am aware, but I'd like your honest opinion on it," Professor Babbling earnestly confessed.
"Very well," Professor McGonagall replied in dull resignation, before reading the rune circle. And even though it had been years since she had studied Ancient Runes, she still recognized all the symbolic runes drawn on the roll of parchment. None of them were minor runes but carefully chosen powerful ones.
"Which student drew this?" Professor McGonagall solemnly inquired after a bout of silence.
"I'm not at liberty to say," Professor Babbling firmly answered. "Did you receive the same impression as I did?"
"The impression I had is that this student's reading is accurate and true," Professor McGonagall quietly murmured unable to remove her eyes from the outstretched parchment before her. "Which is worrisome in its own manner. What year is this student in?"
Professor Babbling firmly shakes her head in negative. "I won't answer that, Minerva. But suffice to say that I am concerned."
"It could always be youthful nonsense," Professor McGonagall thoughtfully suggested as she handed over the parchment back to Bathsheda.
"I can only hope that is a youthful phase," Professor Babbling said with a weak smile.
Abruptly a tired rather dripping wet owl burst into the staff room with a still dry (enchanted) envelope in its beak. The tired, wet owl fluttered over to McGonagall and let out an unhappy screech dripping its package in her lap. The two women wince and watch the owl flap its wet wings back to the owl roost to rest.
Professor McGonagall flushes as she holds up the envelope in the light. Professor Babbling squinted her eyes to read the address and wax seal. Seeing the address and seal a knowing gleam entered Babbling's multi-colored eyes. "Another letter from a member of the ministry. Let me guess, Minerva, who could it possibly be? Ah yes, the famous and rather persistent Elphinstone Urquhart!"
Professor McGonagall flushes and hastily replies, "It is merely business, Bathsheba!"
"Oh, yes. And that's exactly why he asks all the professors out to dinner or for a walk through Hogsmeade in the evening," Professor Babbling teased.
Professor Minerva McGonagall draws herself straight up and ignores the confounded witch for the rest of the hour until her next period. Of course, that did little to remove the smirk and occasional snicker that was heard from the pesky witch. Still, Minerva McGonagall found herself stroking the letter in her pocket subconsciously. And whether she admitted to herself or not, Elphinstone had long ago begun to slowly creep into her heart.