Have you heard of... (Professor Pendragon)

Madrona sighed blissfully as she lounged on the shore of the lake, her arms stretched out above her, and her feet just barely touching the waves as they lapped at her toes. Her class had gone well, all things considered, and now all she had to do was plan for the next one. Idly she wondered where she would go in the coming summer months. It had been ages since she explored Appalachia in the US. Perhaps that would be a good start. Mister, her crow that sat in an above tree branch croaked in warning at the sound of approaching footsteps. Madrona lazily opened one eye to peer in the general direction of the noise, sitting up when she saw it was one of her students, Victoire.

"Hello Ms. Weasley," Madrona greeted evenly, awkwardly trying to shake the sand and pebbles from her loose hair without seeming like she was worried about it. "Shouldn't you be studying? Exams are right around the corner."

"Professor Oakwood, huh?" Madrona asked with a raised eyebrow. She wondered what he was up to, getting Victoire to research the fey like this. She turned the book over in her hands, examining the title and flipping through a few of the stories. "I suppose he gave you this book too? Made by muggles, but there are rumors in certain circles that at least one of the 'Brothers Grimm' was actually magical, perhaps a squib or some other being that was aware of our world, and that these stories are one of the few surviving books that bridge the gap between muggles and wizards..."

She trailed off, staring at an illustration from "Die Wichtelmänner" in which a lean old man with a beard lazed back in a chair, asleep, as several small creatures with humanoid features, but overlarge eyes and ears cobbled together shoes at a wooden table. "See this? If my guess is correct, I would say that this particular story was about house elves, most likely seen by a muggle at one point or another, and instead of modifying that muggle's memory the shoemaker made up a story about elves coming in the night to make his shoes. The Grimm's picked it up and decided it would make a fine addition to their collection. Many of these stories have very little to do with the fae, and more to do with muggles misunderstanding what they see, and wizards taking advantage of that.

"As for what the fae are...well...I'm afraid I don't know much," she sighed. "I know that they have a society, as much separate from ours as we are from muggles. I know that they are divided into two groups, called 'seelie' and 'unseelie', and that these two groups vie for the power in their world, each representing a different method of thought as to how to keep their world alive. Now that I think about it," her head cocked to the side, "Professor Winterbothom is either unseelie, or related to that group. I haven't seen him in the castle recently, but if you're able to track him down, he might be able to tell you more of his people."

Ah yes, she remembered now, Victoire was descended from a veela-human relationship, though enough intervening generations had muted most of the unsavory side effects of the veela blood, like the feathers. Madrona had not been a teenager for a while, but she knew it would not be a happy school career if every time one was angry they grew feathers. Still, she wondered what Ambrose was doing, being so mysterious about all this. It was strange, to be sure. "The Grimms operated on a very fine line, one that is almost impressive looking back. They said enough to make wizards antsy, but not enough to give muggles any reason to doubt that their stories were just that: fables about how to behave if you wanted to lead a good life."

Madrona listened to Victoires speech on brownies with a sad smile. "My mistake, brownies are...were...house-elves. In the early 18th century, brownies existed in almost every household, coming when they pleased, and going just the same. It became a mark of power to have many brownies in service to you, since you could afford the milk, honey, and wort necessary to keep them coming back. Unfortunately, some of the harsher wizards decided to keep theirs indefinitely, creating a powerful holding spell that bound the sprites to their home. Those were the first house elves."

Madrona shrugged at the mention of Thumbelina. "To my knowledge, there is no spell that can successfully shrink someone down to the size described by those fairy tales. Remember, Hans Anderson was also the man who wrote that mermaids are beautiful creatures who dream of the land and can make a human prince fall in love with them. If you have ever seen a real mermaid, or even an illustration of one, you would know that he was far off from reality. I am not a Professor of History, but I do have a passing knowledge of folklore. Thumbelina was inspired by the english tale of Tom Thumb, a character that dates to Arthurian legend. He was known as 'King Arthur's Dwarf', and was not the size of a thumb, merely a little person who served under the man history knows as King Arthur. As men have told and retold the tales, poor Tom shrunk in size until he was the size of a pixie, maybe even less. The fae I know of, and I believe Professor Oakwood is speaking of, are generally, but not always, human sized, and are those that are not muggle, but not wizard. They can be house-elves, or goblins, or veela, or hags. Does that make sense?"

"House elves and brownies and most fae are classified under the ministry as 'beings' so mostly they're out of my jurisdiction. I've met a couple in my travels, as well as several of the house elves in service to Hogwarts, but it's not exactly an easy thing to ask them why they don't rebel against their masters. I don't know the lifespan of a house elf, but 250 years is a long time for any creature, especially if it is spent in servitude to another."

Madrona's eyes were dim, and she curled her arms around her knees, hugging them close. "I do not like it, all creatures are meant to be free on this earth, but wizards and muggles alike do not often share my view."

Her head tilted back to examine the sky. "Yes, most fables are not meant to be looked at as true stories, but read as lessons, or examinations on human culture. Many young people feel pressured by their parentage to behave or act a certain way, and around your age, many rebel in a way they choose as they try to figure out who they truly are. The Little Mermaid was not a tale about a mermaid, but about a young girl coming to terms with life and right and wrong."

"Well, I think we've just about covered everything I know about here. I'm sorry if I wasn't very good help, like I said, I have a passing knowledge of beings, but my specialty lies in beasts. If you have any more questions, though, I'd be happy to try to answer them."

Madrona smiled at Victoire, every generation gets a little better, perhaps someday her dream of a free wildlife park would come to pass, and if it did, it would be on the shoulders of those like Ms. Weasley, who were able to see the flaws of the past and try to find new pathways in life. Though...maybe Madrona should talk to Ambrose, after all, she was curious about his decision to distract one of her pupils from the rapidly approaching exams to send her on a wild chase about such an odd topic.