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Hogwarts: A Theme Park?
By Zen

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Category: Reconstruction Challenge (2007-5)
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 9
Summary: "Bucking Broncos" and block-expelling walls wasn't really what Harry had signed up for. But with a pillow-fighting, Doxy Powder sneaking Hermione standing over him, he has no choice but to get the job done.
Hitcount: Story Total: 16032; Chapter Total: 2526





Author's Notes:
Many thanks again for Mojomig for editting this chapter!




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Chapter 2:

As the days passed, Harry began to fully appreciate how difficult a builder’s job was. He and the chief engineer had spent the first couple of days doing a complete sum-up of the damages that were made to the castle, which were quite extensive - they needed three rolls of parchment to contain them. Then they had to come up with solutions for each case, and that wasn’t easy either. Harry had become so tired, he started to come up with more and more wild solutions, causing the engineer to finally snap when he suggested they replace the gargoyles that guarded the headmaster’s office with statues of two scantily-clad women.

Harry was also given the difficult task of determining the nature of the enchantments that had been placed on the castle, with which Hermione was only too glad to help. She dragged him and Ron both to the library, which had surprisingly survived the battle, and handed them both a copy of Hogwarts: A History.

She smiled triumphantly at their perplexed expressions. “I knew I would get you two to read this book one day, and this is the perfect opportunity,” she declared. “If you’d read it earlier, Harry, you would’ve been able to know exactly what sort of magic had been used to build Hogwarts, whether it was mobility charms on the staircases, or the displacement charms on those doors you always complained about them always changing positions. Now read.”

“Hermione,” Ron whined. “Why do we have to read this when you’ve already memorised it like the back of your hand?”

“I’m not going to do your homework for you all the time, Ron,” she said haughtily. She opened the book for him. “If I can do it, then I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be able to read a proper book. I think I’ve been with you long enough for my cleverness to rub off.”

“You’re mean.”

Hogwarts: A History proved to be everything Harry had imagined it to be; packed with information, and yet dreadfully boring. His thoughts kept straying away from the text to the window, through which he was able to see Ginny, who had decided to do a few laps on her broomstick on this glorious, sunny morning, looking amazing with her red hair gleaming in the sun and flying behind her. Ron obviously saw her as well, because he pointed it out to Hermione, and she threatened to hex him with something that would force him to read the book till its end without even putting it down once.

There was no Madam Pince breathing down their necks today, and her absence was quite welcome, as they were able to have something to eat while reading. In fact, no one else apart from them and the engineers was to be found on the castle grounds. Kingsley had ordered everyone to leave and not come back until the construction works were over. Trelawney had seemed a little more than agitated at the thought of having to leave the comfort of her tower, but when she found out that there was no tower to begin with, she reluctantly agreed.

It was apparent that some of the enchantments had to go, like that hex placed on one of the toilet seats in the girls’ bathroom, which tried to suck in everything around it when some one flushed it, and those doors which Hermione discussed earlier, along with those walls which pretended to be doors. Harry was considering removing the whole barrier which prevented boys from going into the girls’ dormitories, but Hermione immediately put her foot down. The moving staircases were to be left alone, but the vanishing steps had to be dealt with.

“I was thinking,” Ron suddenly said, looking up from his book, and gave Hermione a sharp look when she opened her mouth to tease him about it. “What about the Chamber of Secrets, Harry? What will you do about that?”

Harry didn’t need to think about this twice. “It’s definitely going,” he said firmly. “If Hogwarts and everyone else are to be granted a fresh start, then every trace of Voldemort and his evil deeds have to be completely wiped out from existence.”

“Precisely, Mr. Potter,” came a voice from behind them, and they turned in their seats to find Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway, quickly peeling off her gloves and shrugging off her travelling cloak. Her face seemed to have gained a bit of colour, and her expression looked even tauter than ever before. Oddly, there was even a bit of snow in her hair.

“Professor McGonagall!”

Harry could honestly say that he felt really happy to see his Head of House again, looking so well and so...real. It gave him a huge sense of comfort to see this person, who had been his teacher ever since he came to Hogwarts, right there in front of him. He didn’t think he’d laid eyes on her for the last month, and now vaguely wondered where she had been all this time.

Ron took the question right out of his mouth. “Professor, where’ve you been?” he exclaimed.

The corners of the old woman’s lips twitched. “Missed me, Mr. Weasley?” she said with a raised eyebrow, and Ron started to say something, but she cut him off, “I’ve been visiting my sister, in the Hebrides. She had been terribly frightened to know that I was involved in the fight against the Dark Lord, and she insisted that I come and stay over for a while.”

“That sounds nice, Professor,” Hermione remarked.

“Miss Granger, I wouldn’t call trying to talk me out of resuming my position at Hogwarts by throwing a misaimed curse at me nice,” she replied, giving her an odd look. She now turned to Harry. “Mr. Potter, could I have a word with you?”

“Sure.”

Giving his friends a clueless shrug, he left the library and went after the Professor, thinking that she was probably leading him to her office. He could hear her tutting at every sign of destruction she saw, and he could distinctly hear her cursing under her breath. However, she led him right past her office, and through the corridor which took one to the Headmaster’s office. The gargoyles at the door didn’t demand a password out of her, and she pushed the door open and went inside, beckoning him to follow her.

This office was one place Harry wished he could stay away from, for it only carried memories he would rather forget. It seemed that this place had opened a whole lot of horrible revelations before him; wasn’t it in here that he found out about his destiny? Wasn’t it in here that he had delved into Snape’s memories, and unlocked the answers to many questions? Wasn’t it in here that a certain Headmaster used to sit, peering at him behind half-moon spectacles, while he threw a tantrum, destroying many of his properties in the process? Harry sighed; without Dumbledore sitting there at the desk, this place just seemed foreboding, however familiar it looked to him.

The occupants of the portraits hung on the walls stirred, and looked with interest at the pair of them. It had been a while since anyone had walked into this room, and visitors sure were welcome.

“Good evening, Albus,” Professor McGonagall said briskly.

The old man with the long white beard stirred out of his slumber. He straightened up his glasses, and his eyes twinkled when he saw them. “Minerva, you look well,” he said, smiling. “How were the Hebrides?"

“Cold.”

“And Harry! How are you, my boy?”

“I’m fine, Professor,” he said awkwardly; it still felt odd to be able to talk to Dumbledore even though he was dead. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m rather irked by the fact that I can’t see my broomstick-patterned socks,” he said, and looked down as if to demonstrate his point — after all, his portrait just captured his upper body. “But aside from that, I’m doing well.”

Professor McGonagall sat down at the desk, and gestured for Harry to sit down as well. “Harry has been asked to help reconstruct Hogwarts, but I’ve supposed you’ve heard all about it, Albus?” she asked, without even looking at him.

“Harry’s bow and apology when he came to take the wand from the office sort of gave it all away,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, and Harry blushed — he had been under the impression that the Headmaster had been sleeping. “But it’s wonderful news, Harry! Why, you will be able to add your own personal touch.”

“Pardon?”

Professor McGonagall redirected his attention to her with a quick snap of her fingers. “The Board of Governors probably wouldn’t approve of me telling you this, being the new headmistress and all, but you should know that every master builder who has ever worked on Hogwarts had left his own personal imprint on the castle,” she explained. “Whether it was the Room of Requirements, or the Chamber of Secrets, or the Enchanted Ceiling...they all did it, and I think it’s only fair that you get to leave your imprint, too. Albus did.”

Harry stared at the portrait. “You built something in Hogwarts, Professor?” he asked in surprise.

“Well, it was just some basic repairs, nothing compared to what you have to do now,” Dumbledore answered with a smile.

“What was your imprint?”

“The moving staircases, of course!” Dumbledore said, beaming with pride.

Professor McGonagall sighed when Harry made no attempt to retort. “You don’t have to follow Dumbledore’s lead, Mr. Potter; he only got those staircases to move because he thought it was fun,” she said, pronouncing the last word with slight vehemence. “You should’ve seen how many students were sent to the hospital ward during the first few weeks because of broken bones and dislocated ribs. He himself fell off once while trying to jump off the staircase while it was still moving. It’s a good thing he thought of adding the cushioning charms shortly before that happened.”

“It looked easy the first time,” the old Professor said meekly, and Harry laughed.

“So, Mr. Potter, what is it going to be?”

Harry smiled. “This needs to be given some thought, Professor,” he said, to her disappointment. “But it will be good, I promise.”

Reviews 9
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