Iolanthe Potter or Sally Jackson?
Sometimes, she had to admit being lost in her different identities. Saving Wizarding Britain was supposed to be the culmination of her life's work, never expecting to survive beyond the Final Battle against Voldemor...
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[Professor McGonagall leads everyone through two large doors which go to the Great Hall, where there are four long tables with thousands of students, as well as floating candles. The roof appears to be the sky.]
Hermione: It's not real, the ceiling. It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.
The demigods collectively groaned: it wasn't Hermione's fault per se, but they already had enough on their plate with one daughter of Athena who was a fan of everything even remotely concerning architecture and they weren't sure how to cope with a second one.
"Her favorite book," sighed Iolanthe, as if Bathilda Bagshot had personally offended her by writing it. Or perhaps it was more due to the fact that the same author had almost managed to kill her (Nagini possessing her body was just an added bonus).
[McGonagall leads the first years to the front where the Sorting Hat lies on the stool.]
McGonagall: All right, will you wait along here, please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.
[Dumbledore rises from the main table.]
Dumbledore: I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students.
"Not all students," mumbled Iolanthe, looking at her godfather and remembering a certain pair of twins who might know Hogwarts better than a few teachers. Even now, it was difficult to cope with the fact four had become one and two had done the same, watching how people had meshed so well together were now forever gone.
The Stolls grinned at each other, aware that no one would have been able to keep both brothers away from any location dubbed forbidden by adults.
Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, [shows a ragged old man, called Mr. Argus Filch, with his cat with red eyes, called Mrs. Norris.] has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you. [He sits back down]
Athena seemed aghast by the old man's behavior: it was impossible to share such a detail with children who had access to magic and hoped they wouldn't jump on the opportunity to do just that. "Is he an educator?," asked the Goddess of Wisdom, almost wishing she could give a piece of her mind to the Headmaster.
"More so of a manipulator," retorted Ron, perhaps the one with the biggest grudge on the wizard he used to worship. It was difficult not to hate him after he had blatantly put all of them in danger when he could have started his little Horcrux hunting without involving children. Had it not been for his obsession with a little jewel that all three of them had managed not to fall prey to, he would have helped with the war effort. Instead, he had been beguilded by the idea of getting his hand on a second Hallow and had lost all common sense.
