"Lily Potter. I must admit, I never thought I'd be lecturing you."
Lily stared at her sullenly, refusing to respond. Words were too good to be wasted on this. She was being lectured by a professor whose class she didn't even take-and why would she? Muggle studies was a soft subject, a easy O, a joke, and everyone knew it. Yet Professor Taylor had resigned herself to a life teaching it already, despite looking barely over twenty. Her robes were tight fitting, her hair neatly swept back in a bun, her lips slightly reddened. She held herself with pride, not like a teacher who'd barely been at the school a month and taught the least popular class.
"I guess I should have expected that sooner or later, I'd be forced to give a lecture like this," she continued, her voice firm. Despite having seemingly nothing to be proud of, she spoke as formally and carefully as if she were the headmistress. "Sit down, Lily, and make yourself comfortable. I'll pour you a cup of tea, if you like. I have no desire to shout at you."
Lily sat down, but remained silent. Professor Taylor summoned her own cup of tea from on her desk, took a sip, and then looked over at Lily again. "Do you know why Headmistress McGonagall referred you to me, instead of lecturing you herself?"
"You're the muggle studies teacher," Lily answered. That was all there was to it. Her subject was so soft and empathetic she'd ended up as a morality coach for the entire school.
"And what does that matter? The dark arts are more often used against wizards than muggles." Taylor took another sip of tea and waited a moment for a response Lily refused to give. "I suppose you think I believe myself to be some sort of role model, teaching young wizards how to be nice to muggles so that we never get another Grindelwald or You-Know-Who again."
Lilly kept her mouth shut and tried to ignore how Professor Taylor had nearly read her mind. She was only a teacher, after all, and her subject could be taught by squib. No matter how clearly she understood what Lily thought, she still was in a position hardly worthy of respect. Yet she spoke with a sudden candidness that somehow commanded it. "For your information, I never intended to have this position at all. After eight years of living as a muggle, McGonagall sent me an owl this summer asking me to fill the opening she had in Muggle Studies."
She must have seen the momentary flash of confusion flying across Lily's face, the way she always glanced upward while doing maths. It wasn't as if she could truly understand what she was going to ask. "I'm twenty-four. And yes, that means I left Hogwarts after taking my OWLs. Some professor, I am, teaching NEWT Muggle Studies when I never took it." She smiled at her own comment, her eyes still probing Lilly for any reaction, any hint of the receptiveness that she was determined not to give her. It didn't matter, after all, that Professor Taylor hadn't intended to work at Hogwarts, had stopped listening to these stupid professors and left just like Lily always dreamed of doing-she had given up magic for six years, for Merlin's sake! How could she listen to anyone who'd done that?
"But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is, I'm not talking to you or teaching Muggle Studies to feel good about myself. I take orders from McGonagall. She thought my experience living as a muggle after having been raised in a wizarding household would make me a good teacher. Much the same, she thought my personal experience with the dark arts would allow me to warn you away from it better than she ever could."
Professor Taylor, who had lived among muggles, had also been involved in the dark arts? She had seen past the simple narratives of the ministry and the teachers and actually gave it a go? How? It had taken stealing James's invisibility cloak and stealing books from the restricted section of the library for Lily to even begin to learn, and even then, she only mastered a handful of spells, and only after a secret trip to Knockturn Alley for lessons.
"You're smiling, Lily. I hate to ruin it by telling you I never practiced the dark arts. Although perhaps I can get you to smile again by telling you something McGonagall definitely wouldn't be pleased to know I told you. The Ministry can't track spells as well as they want you to think. They can't tell who is practicing the dark arts, or if anyone is at all, and despite what your teachers will tell you, they have no idea when someone casts an unforgivable curse. Unfortunately, I learned that one the hard way." She accio-ed a newspaper and held it out for Lily to read.
Former Department of Magical Transport Head Isaac Taylor Sentenced
Isaac Taylor, long-time Ministry employee and favorite for Minister of Magic in the upcoming election before dropping out of the race due to his allegations, has been sentenced to life in Azkaban for repeated use of the Imperius curse on his wife, Alessia, as well as on his daughter Isobel. As readers will no doubt remember-
The paper was folded in half, cutting off the rest of the story, and Lily resisted the urge to take the paper out of her hands and finish reading it. Professor Taylor wanted her attention. She wanted her to care about Isaac Taylor, and whatever he'd done to his wife and daughter while they were under the Imperius curse. But simply reading it would make it seem as if she was giving up her desire to learn the Dark Arts, and that she cared about Professor Taylor. So instead, she asked, keeping her words as level and sullen as she could, "What did he do?"
"I trust you can read." Professor Taylor handed her the newspaper, keeping her lips pursed and her eyes on Lily's.
Lily ignored the paper and glared back at her. "I thought you were supposed to be lecturing me, not handing me things to read."
Professor Taylor stood up and walked towards her desk as she talked. "I discussed this on the first day of class with all of my students. I told them that it was more than likely that if they told their parents they had a professor Taylor, they'd ask if I'm one of Isaac Taylor's kids, if I'm Isobel. I told them that their parents would be more than willing to tell them what happened if they asked, and that they likely would anyway." Lily didn't mean to give her attention, but she found herself walking towards the desk, and standing attentively in front of Professor Taylor as she continued, standing behind her chair. "If they'd rather not bring it up, I told them that the library has copies of the Prophets from the time, and I even gave them the dates they should look up. But finally, I told them that they can always just ask me. I just warn them that it's likely they'll find it's uncomfortable to discuss with a professor."
Despite herself, Lily couldn't hide her interest as she asked, "I don't care if it's uncomfortable. Why did he Imperius you?"
Professor Taylor sat down at her desk. "I assume you're an intelligent girl, Lily. I trust that if I give you a few key points of information, I won't have to spell it out." She inhaled, then exhaled. "One: My mother never spoke to my father until shortly before they got married. Throughout my childhood, it seemed she only spoke to please him, and said what he wanted to hear. She was open and kind when it was just her and us children home, but around him, she seemed as if she had lost herself.
"Two: My father kept the doors locked, floo powder within his safe, and brooms hidden. My mother was never licensed to apparate.
"Three: Out of all my sisters, and I there are five of us in total, I look the most like my mother. When my father was drunk, tired, or otherwise out of it, it was not unusual for him to call me Alessia."
"I see," Lily responded. He had held her mother hostage, and he had accidentally held her too.
"And four," Professor Taylor said, as if she hadn't even heard Lily's affirmation, as if she hadn't heard anything at all since she started speaking, "This is my son's first year at Hogwarts. I trust you can do the maths." And with that, she took out a quill and began to grade papers, leaving Lily the one attempting to speak and being ignored.