A/N: My mind, as of this entire week, is officially, completely, totally, utterly fried. I have been trapped in a room for two days straight with nothing but country music, paint, and my mother. Before anyone says a word, we were painting my bedroom. We absolutely *had* to have music, so my mum had to listen to the same bloody country music station for the entire two days. Is it custom for all radio stations to limit their current collection of songs to only 20? I have nothing against country, but the same two dozen or so songs over and over again really wears on your nerves.
I've been turning this story over in my mind since the night before we started painting... about three nights ago. I'm not sure how well this will go, but I'm going to give it a shot.
Elu: Damon doesn't own anything Harry Potter. But she owns a helluva lotta other crap, lemme tell ya.
A/N: Nice. I should throw you out the window. Elu is officially my beta (even if he's nothing more than a stuffed horse). Hopefully his editing skills are better than mine. :P
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It was Harry's final year. He found it unreasonably difficult to believe that after this term, he would be leaving Hogwarts for good. Secretly, he hoped this year wouldn't fly by as quickly as the other six years, but with Voldemort gone--truly this time--he had a feeling the year would literally crawl by.
No one had received any word or rumor as to who the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was this year. The only thing anybody could be certain of was that the Minstry of Magic seemed utterly terrified about interfering with the school in the slightest bit, which everyone considered slightly abnormal. Someone had gotten themselves involved and had the Ministry scared stiff of them.
But Harry refused to worry about it too much.
As soon as he entered the Great Hall, he immediately scanned the staff table, hoping to identify this year's DADA professor, and the new Charms professor. The previous year, poor Flitwick had been subjected to torture to gain information about Hogwarts and the students within. Like the Longbottom's, he went mad, and was now in St. Mungo's.
"Odd," whispered Hermione beside him. "I don't see any new teachers. You don't think that maybe... they couldn't find anyone."
"I doubt it. Dumbledore wouldn't let school start without all the positions filled," Harry replied in what he thought to be a reassuring voice, even though he had a slightly strange feeling in the back of his mind.
Through dinner and all announcements, never was a new professor introduced, or even spoken of. An exchange student from America named Tala Moriarty Gunning, a seventh year, joined the Gryffindors. Tala was a strikingly handsome young man, with long, lank, black hair that seemed to do whatever it damned well pleased and brilliant blue eyes that had a tendency to flit about, never resting on one single object or person. He seemed a little confused, and he kept glancing up at the staff table, to the empty space right beside Professor Snape. Neville promptly introduced himself, which left Tala a little stunned. But once Neville spoke up, more of the Gryffindors opened up to the American, and soon Tala seemed to have made friends with every boy in the house as well as Hermione and Ginny. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had approached him blushing and giggling obnoxiously, and it was no wonder Tala hadn't taken an immediate liking to them.
All throughout dinner Tala kept looking up at the staff table as though attempting to see someone who wasn't there.
"What exactly are you looking for, Tala?" Hermione asked him after about his seventh attempt at concealing his nervousness.
"The Dark Arts teacher," he said quickly, as though he had been waiting for someone to ask and had already prepared an answer.
"Do you know who it is?" Ron asked eagerly.
Tala cleared his throat in an unconvincing manner. "Er--no. Not really, I mean, at least, not exactly, maybe... well, uh... no," he finished hurriedly.
"What about the Charms professor?" pressed Ron, still unconvinced.
"What? Oh, nuh-uh. No idea. Mom never said--" at this he stopped abruptly and quickly pretended to be deeply interested in his Cornish hen.
Ron leaned over and whispered so that only Harry could hear, "He's off his rocker."
Tala kept his mouth firmly shut for the rest of the evening, and didn't even bother to hang out in the common room for any length of time.
"Hasn't even been her a day," muttered Ginny to Hermione later that evening, "and already he's got the entire house thinking he's some sort of nutter."
The next morning at breakfast, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville found Tala had beaten them by a good half hour. He had already bolted down half a plate of bacon and eggs and was reading over his schedule.
"Don't eat much, do you?" Neville asked sharply.
"No?" Tala looked at Neville strangely. "I don't, do I?" He said this as though he had never noticed. "Anyone else got Double Charms and Double... Divination?--crikey!--on their schedule?"
Harry and Ron eyed theirs contemptably. "Yeah. We do. Oh well. We've had worse first days, I suppose. I'd rather have had Defense Against the Dark Arts; I'd really like to see whoever the new professor is."
"No you wouldn't," Tala murmured to himself.
"Pardon?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Yes you did!" Ginny was glaring disapprovingly at Tala.
"I did?" He looked genuinely confused. After a moment's silence he shook his head and said dismally, "Sorr' ya'll. I honestly don't mean t' do that. Swear. Y'see, I'm a Seer--don't give me that look, Hermione--and I have short-term memory loss. Horrible short-term memory loss."
"What does Seer have to do with it?" demanded Hermione.
"Uh, well, I come from a long line of Seers--"
"You're not related to Trelawney, are you?" interrupted Ron.
"You, mein freund, are horribly tactless," snapped Tala. "No. *God* no! She's nothin' but an old fraud. I'm of Gunning blood. If there ever were a family that could beat down the Trelawney's, it was the Gunning's. My grand-dad works as an Auror for the North American Ministry. Best of 'em, too. My mom... well, let's just say she's twice as dangerous. First telekinetic--don't snort like that, telekinetics exist--in our family, and I took after her. Anyway, a few years back I accidentally... acquired the soul of another person."
"You stole someone's soul?" Ron said loudly.
"Quiet you! Don't tell the whole blamed world! Ijit... I hadn't meant to. Now I'm sort of schizophrenic--y'know, multiple personalities--and a lot of times the other personality will say something, but I won't remember. Honestly, I am sorry. This early in the morning I'm generally not awake enough to control it. Oh, and if something happens to fly across the dormitory in the middle of the night, stay right where you are. Don't get out of bed and try wakin' people up. You might get walloped. Well, tchao." Tala stood up rather quickly and nearly tripped over the bench. He hurried out of the Great Hall before anyone could ask him any further questions.
Harry and the others caught up with Tala outside the Charms classroom. Many of the other students around them were muttering and whispering amongst themselves, passing ready-made rumors about who the new professor was. Once everyone had gathered, a reedy voice called loudly from within the classroom. The voice carried so well that it could clearly be heard even the solid oak door. "C'mon, ya'll. Ain't got all day y'know!"
The foremost student pulled open the door and there was a mass gasping and yelping. Standing where Flitwick used to was a great black-and-white gryphon with steel-blue eyes. "Siddown ever'one. Hurr' now." However, the students moved slower than ever. Gryphons just weren't supposed to talk. It took a moment for everyone to sit down, but once they had, the gryphon started. "M'name's Elderblade Lu-torin. Ah expect no 'professor this' or 'professor that' from ya'll. Ah'm Elderblade. Plain and simple." He had a distinctly southern-American accent.
Parvati's hand shot in the air.
"Yeus..." prompte Elderblade, making the word "yes" into a two-syllable word."
"Parvati Patil, sir."
"Aye. Miss Patil. Question?"
"Uhm, yeah. If you're really a gryphon, how come you can talk?"
For a bird, Elderblade's face was highly expressive. He had learned several tricks to simulate the expressions of humans. At this moment, it appeared as though he was raising one eyebrow. "By jingoes..." He looked about the room and saw that Hermione's hand was in the air, as usual. "Hm?"
"You're an American gryphon. I can't tell the specific breed, though. But I know that most American gryphons have a better handle on human speech than many humans."
"Well, Ah'll be. Right on."
"Aw, come off it, Elder!" hollered Tala. "Drop the accent!"
Elderblade glared at Tala, but nodded nonetheless. "Fine. Fine. If it suits you, *Master* Gunning. Hmmm, as I was about to say... Yes, most if not all American gryphons can speak English. As for my breed, I'm of *mixed* blood," spat Elderblade, apparently disgusted by his own heritage. "My mother was a Standardbred, Best in Breed at the Darrow Grand Nationals seven years running. Now my father--" he flexed his shoulders detestably "--he's an Appalachian Sable Harrier, the rarest of all American gryphons."
A few students stared in awe.
"Aaaanywaaaay," Elderblade trilled, prancing down the row, "maybe we should actually begin class, now, eh?"
The remainder of the class was spent attempting to master a seemingly simple charm that was meant to dissolve Veritaserum and make it harmless to drink. Hermione of course had it after only two attempts, and apparently Tala had learned it at his American school, as he did it after one try and kept shooting angry glares at the gryphon. If looks could kill, Elderblade would've been shot seventeen times then incinerated twice, just to make sure he was dead. After a half hour of exchanging death glares, Elderblade finally decided to threaten to inform Tala's mother of his behavior. The American quickly set to work doing any little trivial thing he could find, and spent an hour making paper airplanes out of lined notebook paper, which he was shocked to discover he would not be using any class whatsoever.
"I guess Grand-dad will be getting a bi-weekly report then. I have to use this paper up somehow."
"Why don't you charm them to fly around the dungeons all day?" Ron hinted. Tala looked at him, horrorstruck.
"You mean, make the things follow Professor Snape all over the place? Is that really a bright idea? I mean, he'll know straight off that it was me. He'd think my mother would've put me up to it."
"Who on earth is your mother, anyway?" Hermioned finally demanded. "You and Elderblade talk about her as though she's a professor here."
"Uhhhhh... right. We do?"
Hermione dropped her head onto the table. "Not again."
When the bell rang for lunch, Harry had managed to dissolve half the Veritaserum, and was now fighting to keep himself from babbling every little insignificant--yet truthful--thing that had ever happened to him, as Elderblade had insisted that the students test it on themselves. The failure would be burned that much deeper into their minds. Tala had tied a bandana around Ron's mouth to keep him from spouting off random bits of personal information.
There was still no sign of the new DA teacher, although Elderblade now decided to join the other professors. The students who had yet not seen him stared in awe through all of lunch, except for Draco Malfoy, who did everything in his power to avoid the gryphon's gaze.
"I wonder if Draco knows Elderblade," Hermione stated, looking straight at Tala, waiting for him to answer her dazedly as he normally did. But Tala wasn't giving in to that. He just looked up at her meekly for a moment, then said flatly, "I'm not gonna answer you, so quit starin' at me!"
Following lunch was Divination, a class Tala was looking forward to. While walking up to the North Tower, Ron mumbled to Harry, "Remind me again why we took this class."
"Because we needed one more class but couldn't find any others that seemed even remotely interesting, that's why."
"Should've taken Arithmancy."
"We would've been completely lost."
Ron growled something under his breath that sounded a little like, "Could've taken it with the third years."
When they entered the classroom, which still smelled sickening and was even hotter than normal, Tala made sure to skirt about it, hidden in shadows. When they sat down at a table, he whispered, "If she sees me, she'll g' ballistic. Jest you watch."
Sure enough, when reading through the list of students, Professor Trelawney nearly shattered everyone's eardrums when she shrieked, "TALA GUNNING! WHY HAVE YOU COME TO YOUR DEMISE?"
"Well there's a change of pace," groaned Ron, snapping his fingers in his ears to make sure he wasn't deaf.
"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Usually it's me who's come for his demise."
But Tala wasn't going to put up with it for an entire year. "Listen here, y'old bat! I ain't come t' be told I'm gonna die, a'right? I'd know better'n you whether I was gonna die 'r not!" The increased inflection of an accent Harry couldn't place made Tala seem a little frightening.
Trelawney was silence, however, and returned peacefully to her attendence-taking. "Now where exactly did you say you were from?" Ron asked quietly as Trelawney flitted about the room checking names.
"Indiana."
"Where?" Harry had heard about Indiana a few times on the news, advertising for some sort of "Formula One" race, but he'd never really paid it much attention. Wisconsin was probably better known than Indiana.
"North American Ministry of Magic's headquarters are there, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Mom and Grand-dad work for 'em. An' the Slytherin House Heir is Minister of Magic."
Harry looked about at Tala sharply, cricking his neck. "Slytherin House Heir?"
"Uh-huh. Leo. He's a great man, Harry. When Sirius Black first escaped from Azkaban in our fourth year, Dumbledore contacted Leo right away to tell 'im not to send the SA after Black. Dumbledore told Leo the true story. In North America, Black's been pardoned of all crimes. He sets foot on American soil an' Leo'll shoot down any idiot that's come to arrest him."
"Really?"
"Yep. He was the first to clear Severus Snape of any charges, too. Of course, he agreed to pardon Professor Snape while my mother had her sword against his neck, but either way..."
Tala, afterwards, refused to answer any more questions, and didn't mention Leo Slytherin or the SA for the rest of the night.
In the common room that night, Harry and Ron continued to practice their Dissolving Charm, which continued to end in complete and utter failure. It didn't help that they were looking for any excuse to postpone the twelve inch essay they were required to write about their predictions for that year which was due to Trelawney that Friday. Tala had his done in a half hour, then went back and reviewed it.
"I'm making sure I didn't make a mistake or mess up a time or date or anything."
"Time? Date? You're actually looking into the future, aren't you?" Hermioned asked, a bit angry.
"Yeah. I always do that. I look ahead to see what questions will be on a test, so that way I study only the bare necessaties. I have yet to recieve anything below a B- in my life. And if what I put here never came true, my mother would find out about it and be uber-pissed because I slacked off in Divination. I'd never live it down."
"That's cheating!"
"How so?" There wasn't even the slightest hint of sarcasm in Tala's voice.
"You're not supposed to know what's on a test until you take it!"
"Really? Wow. I never thought of that."
Hermione made a sound like a growling cat, stuffed her Arithmancy in her bag, then stomped out of through the portrait hole.
"Where's she going?" Ron asked, looking up from his cup of Veritaserum and tea.
"Library," said Tala matter-of-factly. "She's mad at me 'cause she thinks my method of studying is cheating."
"Well it sort of is," Harry said, "but I won't hold that against you. I take it your whole family has an unbelievably impressive job in the Ministry, right?"
"Well, Mom's a teacher at Dale Magic Academy in Indiana--uhm, Potions. Grand-dad's an Auror for the N. A. M. M. Grandma's Senior Undersecretary for Leo... my great uncle's dead, but he used to be some rich evil little git who lived here in England. Was always bribing the Minister for some odd thing or another."
"Sounds like Lucius Malfoy. Rich and dead."
"Yeah. Never could remember his name," Tala mumbled to himself, but Harry and Ron didn't catch it.
"What about your dad," Ginny broke in. She had been standing behind Tala the whole time, listening in.
Tala looked around at her and stared her straight in the eyes until she looked away, horrified. "Tell a soul, I'll make you a hearthrug. And believe me, I'll know when you've told." He curled his lip, grinning maliciously. Ginny continued to stare at his face for a moment, as if trying to prove something. Soon, however, her face became blank and expressionless, and she marched off to the girls' dormitory without another word.
Ron was glaring at Tala by this time. "What did you show her?"
"Something you'll find out in time, because quite frankly, I don't feel like telling you," Tala sneered. Harry had the feeling there was something familiar about his expressions and his manner of speech, something that made him suddenly deeply loathe the American.
Tala sprang up suddenly, grabbed his bag--which was nothing more than a Marlboro brand cigarettes duffel bag--and sauntered off to the boys' dormitory, completely oblivious to Harry's and Ron's hateful stares.
The next morning at breakfast, Tala couldn't be found. He had apparently awoken before everyone else, because he and his things were already gone from the dormitory before anyone else was even awake. But he wasn't in the Great Hall, and nobody passed him in the corridors on their way to breakfast.
Not until Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged into the dungeons did they finally find Tala. He had completely skipped breakfast in the Great Hall--he now sat at a table in the back munching on what appeared to be a Kit Kat bar, consulting a dragonhide-bound book called "Gryphons and Dragons of the World".
"Mornin', ya'll," he muttered as Hermione took a seat to his right and Neville a seat to his left. The greeting startled Harry and the others, because it seemed a wonder that Tala could see through the curtain of shining black hair that covered his face.
"Er, morning. Why weren't you in the Great Hall," asked Ron tentatively, because Tala was giving off an aura of anger and impatience.
Tala raised his head and pushed his hair out of his face with one hand while closing the book; he appeared honestly confused. "I have no idea--" But he was cut off from saying anything more as the dungeon door slammed shut and Snape strode in, calling for silence, which was generally never necessary to begin with.
Snape hadn't even reached the front of the classroom when he suddenly stopped and spun about on his heel, glowering at Tala as if daring him to say something stupid. Tala, unlike many students just meeting the Potions Master for the first time, merely gazed back, staring Snape straight in the eye without flinching. Tala's eyes glazed over and became, literally, white and opaque; Snape appeared to be the only one not horrified by this. After a moment, Tala's eyes cleared, and he opened his book again and continued to read. Snape looked at the boy a second longer, then swept up the front of the classroom.
As Snape rattled off the directions, Tala kept reading.
"How are you supposed to know what to do?" hissed Hermione.
"I did this two years ago at Dale. I told him so this morning, and he's excused me from today's lab, and warned me not to help anyone or I'd lose points for Gryffindor. He didn't seem too serious about the point deductions, though. I don't think he really will. Hey, Neville," Tala said, shifting his gaze from his book to Neville, "I hear you have trouble in this class. I'd be glad to help you out any way I can. Mom taught me everything starting way back when I was six. All of this I've done already. Several times," he ground out. Apparently this material was extremely monotonous to him.
"If it won't get us in trouble..."
Tala snorted. "'Course not. 'e wouldn' dare punish me!"
"A bit uppity, isn't he," Ron whispered to Harry. Harry didn't reply. He had the strange feeling that there was a connection between Tala and Snape, and Tala's enigmatic mother.
But, as arrogant as Tala sounded, he wasn't exactly lying. He was indeed a genius in this field, and got nothing more than a raised eyebrow for helping Neville out, and for once, Neville's potion turned out nearly perfect.
"I think I might actually pass this year!"
"I know what your problem is," stated Tala flatly. "You're too nervous. You know the stuff, Professor Snape just makes you so nervous that you can't concentrate, so everything blows up in your face. And from what I've heard, I mean that literally." Neville flushed. "S'alright. I know quite a few people that are the exact same way. My mother's twice as intimidating, especially if she doesn't happen to like you. That's why Potions class at Dale is generally held in an open-air courtyard... actually, it's the former Intermediate School's track and football field."
"This 'Dale'... what is it exactly?" Hermione asked, finally interested.
"Dale is a private magic academy. Only the brightest or the richest go there. Or if you happen to get in on a professor's recommendation. The campus is about 36 square miles, and used to be a town, until the founders bought everything out and converted the stores and schools to classrooms and used the housing additions as dormitories of a sort. The school is divided into divisions, sort of like Hogwarts's houses, and each division takes one neighborhood. Depending on the number of bedrooms in each house, there can be anywhere from two to six students in a home. The campus operates much like an exclusive town, with shops, pubs, supply stores, restaraunts, you name it. We've even got a movie theater!"
"You mean, the Muggle world and the Wizarding world is... integrated?"
"Yup. I dunno what'd we do without Taco Bell, Starbucks, and especially Bad Ass... er, it's a coffee company from Seattle, Washington. They even sell firewhisky to the students."
"Isn't that illegal?" asked Neville.
"Of course it is, but none of the school officials have done anything to stop it. Never before has a student come to class drunk!" Tala grinned and made a weird sound that sounded a lot like he was exhaling a large amount of air through his nose very quickly, and everyone just assumed that was his idea of a laugh.
All through lunch Ron, Hermion, Neville, and even Seamus fired questions at Tala about Dale Magic Academy and Indiana--where the school was located--America in general, and mostly, how the Wizarding community in America lived, since North American wizards seemed to have integrated much of Muggle society into their daily lives. Television and the Internet were common things to see in a Wizarding household. "It makes it easier for us to know if something is going on in the 'outside world'." Tala often referred to Muggles as "outsiders" and their community as the "outside world". From what the others could gather from the random trivia, North America's Wizarding community believed themselves to be an entirely sovereign nation, set apart from Canada, the United States, and Mexico. The the governments of each respective country even recognized the magical world in their continent as a seperate nation, and could easily be compared the the Cherokee Indians.
After lunch was the class everyone had been anticipating: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Many of the seventh years practically ran to the classroom, until another professor or Filch happened to catch them and take points for being a hazard to society. When everyone rushed into the classroom, they expected to see their new professor standing or sitting somewhere in the room. But what greeted them was a girl who looked as though she belonged with the fourth years. She was dressed in the skins of St. Bernard dogs. The top was cut small in front and tapered down to the small of her back and had no sleeves, but her gloves, which looked to the paws of the animals, covered her entire lower arms. The skirt was low and was slitted on the side nearly all the way up. She wore a leather belt upon which hung the head of a St. Bernard. The most striking thing about the girl was, however, not the furs, but the great, silver, feathered wings that grew from the part of her spine directly in between her shoulder blades; the primaries were dyed brilliant green. When the loud talking had abruptly ceased, the girl looked up from the pile of papers she held in her arms and stared at the group of students in shock, as if she hadn't even noticed them standing there.
The seventh years were struck dumb by the girl's furs and wings, but not Tala. He leaned forward and whispered in Hermione's ear, "She's Celtic. That's why she's dressed that way. Don't be afraid of her until she gives you enough reason to be scared, or she'll hate you 'til the end of your days."
And so Hermione took the first steps into the classroom, and strode forward to take a seat. The girl held up a hand to stop her, and Hermione halted, more bewildered than before. Was this fourth year giving *her* orders?
"Hold up, yo. Ya'll're the seventh years, uh... Slytherin 'n' Gryffindor, right? Oh. Okay. Sorry. I forgot..." The girl stumbled backwards a few steps then turned about suddenly and half walked-half jogged to the desk at the head of the room. She dropped the papers untidily on the desk, then began rifling through the mass of papers and books on her desk in a clumsy way. Hermione continued to stare at the girl, but as Tala and Draco had already shoved their way through into the room, the rest of the seventh years followed suit and took a seat, gazing around at the oddly furnished room. In one corner there was a full-size stuffed gryphon in one corner and the skeleton of the prehistoric sabertoothed tiger, Smilodon, in the other. A huge oil painting of a red dragon hung on the wall farthest from the door, just above the large desk in the front. The dragon didn't look fierce or dangerous at all. On the contrary. He was staring with mild amusement at the students, waving once or twice, then he yawned, laid down, and fell asleep, as told by the heavy breathing.
The girl gazed dazedly about the classroom until everyone was quiet. She seemed quite detached from reality. There was a long, drawn moment of silence during which everyone exchanged nervous glances and kept peering back at the classroom door. The only people who seemed intently focused on the girl were Tala and Draco. Suddenly, the girl said, louder than necessary, "All right, ya'll, quit lookin' at the door! Ain't no one comin' through it, unless yer missin' somebody from yer class. Are ya?" Everyone shook their heads "no". "Didn' think so. Now, my name is Destry Gunning, and although most of you ain't gonna like it, I'm yer Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for *this* year. From what I've heard, the job's jinxed." There were subdued mutterings, but no outcries or loud protests. "Thank God. The last three classes practically gave themselves anuerisms screamin' at me. I'm honestly more than you take me for. I'm not fourteen, no matter how much I look it. I'm thirty-eight. Why do I still look like this? Well, to make it simple, my father was an angel--"
"Literally," Tala interrupted.
"Right, literally. A true-to-the-definition angel. Angel of death, if you wanna be specific." At this, she drew the sword that hung on her hip. The sheath looked like golden snakes with sapphire eyes interwined with each other, and the hilt was solid gold inlaid with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The minute the sword was unsheathed, the blade erupted in blue, swirling flames. Professor Gunning twirled the sword about, admiring the light and the sound of the flames as they passed through the air. She quickly sheathed it. Looking back at the class, she grinned with an amused expression. She then continued, "My mother, however, was human. She *was* the oldest sister," she said sourly, looking pointedly at Draco, "of Lucius Malfoy. That is, until she married my father. The Malfoy's disowned her. Left them much worse off. If they hadn't ousted my branch of the family, Lucius and Narcissa might still be alive, and Draco here wouldn't've been forced to live on the Dale campus with the *estranged* half of the family." Draco hid his face, but not fast enough to hide how red his face had gotten. Gunning laughed. "Oh, chill out, Draco. You know we love ya!" Gunning was beginning to come across as slightly stupid.
"She's not really as idiotic as she sounds," Tala whispered to Neville. "She's brilliant, just sort of an... air head. She's a ditz, but if you don't like Draco, trust me, you'll love 'er."
Tala hadn't been quiet enough. "Moriarty! Oh my God... I forgot you were in your seventh year!"
"Gee, Mom, you're a genius. Draco and I have only been telling you all freakin' summer we were seventh years."
"Well, I remembered Draco was--"
"Destry!" Draco said loudly. At this point his face was a deep crimson. Apparently having to listen to his cousin prattle on about him like he was her baby boy was more embarrassing than he had imagined.
"Huh? Whoops. Sorry, dude. All right, I'm done terrorizing the people I actually know. I suppose I'd better start this class... er..." Gunning seemed incredibly lost as she glanced about the entire room with a bemused expression. Suddenly the door opened and immediately everyone turned to see who it was. To everyone's shock--except Tala, Draco, and Gunning--an abnormally large centaur strode in, quickly scanning the class. The horse half of him was jet black, but the tail was a carmine color. He wore a Stetson pulled low over his face to hide his eyes, a denim shirt under a horsehide vest, and a leather belt which held a sword and had a bronze buckle with an eagle emblazoned upon it.
"Am I late, shiela?" asked the centaur, taking off his hat. His hair was short, a complete mess, and the same colour as his tail. His eyes were a brilliant, unnatural blue.
"Only by ten minutes," Gunning replied, looking at her watch, apparently flustered about some odd thing or another. "That's a new record, Kyler."
"Killer?" Neville asked, slightly worried.
"That's how it's pronounced. It's spelled K-y-l-e-r," said Tala. "He's Ravenclaw." Neville shifted his gaze from Kyler to Tala, now completely confused. "Er, house heir, y'know? Don't ask how he's a centaur; I don't think even he knows. I don't think he cares, either way, anywho. The ladies love 'im!" And that was no lie. Parvati, Lavender, and Pansy Parkinson were now staring like a bunch of lovesick puppy dogs at Kyler, who was now making his way towards the front of the classroom. He leaned down as best he could and whispered conspiratorily in Gunning's ear. She nodded, trying to lean back away from him inconspicuously. Kyler made a weird jumping backward motion, then took off out of the room, the wind he created blowing papers and quills every which way.
"Until Kyleran gets back, you're free to talk or whatever, just make sure you have paper and some sort of writing utensil ready by the time he gets back," Gunning said loudly. There was much shuffling as students recovered parchment and quills, then went about talking about what little had happened since lunch.
"Who was he?" Hermione asked Tala, twisting around in her chair.
"That's Kyleran Ravenclaw! You didn't know that? I'm shocked, Hermione," Tala said coyly.
"You're mocking me, aren't you? So how do you know him?"
"He's Minister of Magic in Australia. Australia and the Far East are the only Ministries who support the North American Ministry. The UK doesn't much like being told what to do by the US, and no wonder. But they've obviously made quite a few mistakes in the recent past that's lost 'em a lot of respect from the other Ministries."
"How many Ministries are there?" Harry asked, wondering why he'd never heard of the North American or Australian Ministry of Magic.
"Uhm... well there's the UK--they're in charge of Great Britain, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales--the European Ministry--anything in Europe stopping at the border of Russia--the Russian Ministry, the Mideastern Ministry--Israel and the Arab nations, including countries that were once part of the Soviet Union--the Far East--India, China, Japan, places in that area--the Indionesian Ministry, the African Ministry, the Oceanic Ministry--Australia and New Zealand--the North American Ministry--Canada, the US, and Mexico--and then South America--anything south of Mexico. Indonesia and Russia aren't generally recognized all that often, because Russia's so poor and Indonesia's just a bunch of islands. The Far East, Oceanic, and North American Ministries are headed by Hogwarts house heirs--Slytherin has North America, Hufflepuff has the Far East, and Ravenclaw has Oceania."
"What about the others?"
"Well, right now there's a Spanish half-angel--er, Dark Angel--who's European Minister of Magic. He's a real close friend of Slytherin's. Russian Minister of Magic is a woman who almost married Slytherin, but she backed out at the last minute. Uhm, African Minister is a young man named Mtanga, who was actually an African lion raised by spotted hyenas; he got caught up in some sort of spell that turned him human. Nice guy, but don't piss 'im of." Tala laughed quietly. "The Mideast is run by twin brothers, Tag and Rohan, who used to be Tazis--Afghan hounds--and got caught up in the same spell as Mtanga. About the only Ministry who outright opposes North America is the UK. South Americans keep to themselves. They've made it clear that they're maintaining a position of neutrality and ain't nobody gonna change their minds about it."
"That would figure. Voldemort came from the UK, so our Ministry is going to do everything to keep everyone else from knowing it, so they don't get too friendly with anyone," Harry said darkly.
"That's not entirely true," argued Ron. "Dad speaks very highly of Slytherin and the European Minister, Diego. Mum doesn't like either of 'em, but that's because Slytherin used to be a pirate and Diego gambles on horse and dog races regularly. When I was younger, I met Diego. He's a bit... off--all right, he's downright insane--but he was really nice to all of us. He was the one that gave Bill the permit to study in Romania."
"Really? I can't ever remember him mentioning the Weasley's," Tala said.
"He wouldn't," Ron mumbled.
Again, the door burst open, and Kyleran cantered in followed by a giant, snow-white wolf, very nearly the size of a horse. Kyler and the wolf reached the front of the classroom, and the centuar turned back around and left hastily. The giant wolf was left with Gunning.
"Right. As far as I've heard, you've had some pretty crack teachers. About the only one I would consider actually successful was Lupin. So I'll attempt to pick up where he left off: studying dark creatures. He never covered werewolves, did he?"
"I should hope not!" snorted Draco derisively.
"Shut yer trap, boy, 'r'll 'ave ya hanged," growled the wolf. The students all stared at the wolf. Right before their eyes, the wolf glowed a neon green colour. The light rearranged itself into the shape of a human, then faded, leaving a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed man standing in the wolf's place.
"This here's Leonard Slytherin, werewolf, house heir, and North American Minister of Magic. Feel privilege, ya'll, Leo left his post at the Ministry to come be an example of a werewolf." Gunning said this as though it were the greatest privilege in the world.
"You fit the description of an Animagus better, though, sir," Hermione said, almost as a question.
"Middle Eastern, UK, 'n' Russian werewolves 'r' the only werewolves who're act'ally 'vicious'. All others're political creatures. We don' hurt humans 'less we absolutely hafta. We change at will, an' the full moon's got no effect on us," said Leo proudly.
The next hour was spent listening to Leo and Gunning spout of random, unconnected bits of information about the different types of werewolves in the world, but it was oddly more informative than the students were used to. Leo showed his transformation again, and leapt into an all-out attack on Gunning. She held him off with the sword--not flaming--while explaining the one spell which could change a werewolf back to its human form, thereby rendering it harmless. She aimed the spell right between Leo's eyes, and as she screamed the spell, Leo flew backwards, hit the floor, and rolled about two meters, all the while glowing neon green. When he came to a stop against the wall, he was human again, spread-eagled against and standing on his head.
As the students filed out, the bell having rung immediately following the performance, Harry said, "I don't think even Lupin could've done a better lesson."
"It was unorganized," Hermione complained.
"That's not normal," said Tala flatly. "It's her first lesson in this subject, not to mention this school. It'll go better after now. Leo didn't help any. He's naturally unorganized. If he ever did anything in a sensible order, his wife would have him sent to a psychiatrist."
"Who is his wife?" Hermione glanced back over her shoulder at Leo, who was leaving the classroom behind the group of students. He was unnaturally tall.
"Tall, ain't 'e?" Tala was grinning at her. "Seven feet, three inches. Three hundred twenty-five pounds, four percent of which is body fat. The dude rivals Bruce Lee! And his wife is Silverbrand Blackbird, Vampyre Queen. She's staying in Exeter with her brother, Huend Sagenhaft, the 'legendary hound' vampyre."
"Wicked. I'd bet their kids are something to reckon with?" Ron looked positively frightening in his excitement.
"Er, well, yeah, if Firebrand, Brightspirit, and Silverspirit could ever bring themselves to hurt anyone."
"Those are odd names."
"American Wizard names. Leo's real name is Spirit." Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked all the more confused.
Destry Gunning was to be found at dinner that night in the Great Hall, seated beside Professor Snape. She seemed quite friendly with him, but whenever Snape caught a student looking, he would give a death glare that could've ignited the poor kid right on the spot.
Leo made a friendly cameo just to say good-bye to Gunning. He and Destry exchanged a few quick words, but Leo remained, glaring hard at Snape, as if willing him to implode or something.
"Leo hates 'im, actually. Pisses him off to no end to have pardoned the poor bastard because of a death threat. But Leo won't mess with the Gunning's, not unless he's got a death wish," whispered Tala hurriedly. When Leo stalked past, apparently now in a towering temper, Tala called after him, "Happy Chanukah!" Leo turned about, walking backwards and staring at Tala as though he belonged in an insane asylum. The werwolf tripped over an out-of-place stone and toppled over. Everyone in the Hall nearly laughed themselves into a coma, even Snape, who had never really laughed before, which was a bit of a frightening experience for the students who noticed. Leo picked himself up and stumbled out the Great Hall, more angry than ever.
"What was that for?" snapped Hermione.
" 'Tis great fun. He falls over every time someone tells him 'Happy Chanukah'! It's our favourite pasttime at Dale: See Who Can Make the Minister Fall Over."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly and shook her head, but said nothing more. Tala was useless for the rest of the night, because whenever someone would slip up in just the slightest way, he would dissolve into fits of laughter and couldn't stop for a full three minutes, at which point, someone else would do something trivial like drop a knife, and the whole cycle would start all over again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That was amusing. This took me two weeks to type. *faints* KT's been begging me to finish the first chapter for ages.
I've been turning this story over in my mind since the night before we started painting... about three nights ago. I'm not sure how well this will go, but I'm going to give it a shot.
Elu: Damon doesn't own anything Harry Potter. But she owns a helluva lotta other crap, lemme tell ya.
A/N: Nice. I should throw you out the window. Elu is officially my beta (even if he's nothing more than a stuffed horse). Hopefully his editing skills are better than mine. :P
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was Harry's final year. He found it unreasonably difficult to believe that after this term, he would be leaving Hogwarts for good. Secretly, he hoped this year wouldn't fly by as quickly as the other six years, but with Voldemort gone--truly this time--he had a feeling the year would literally crawl by.
No one had received any word or rumor as to who the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was this year. The only thing anybody could be certain of was that the Minstry of Magic seemed utterly terrified about interfering with the school in the slightest bit, which everyone considered slightly abnormal. Someone had gotten themselves involved and had the Ministry scared stiff of them.
But Harry refused to worry about it too much.
As soon as he entered the Great Hall, he immediately scanned the staff table, hoping to identify this year's DADA professor, and the new Charms professor. The previous year, poor Flitwick had been subjected to torture to gain information about Hogwarts and the students within. Like the Longbottom's, he went mad, and was now in St. Mungo's.
"Odd," whispered Hermione beside him. "I don't see any new teachers. You don't think that maybe... they couldn't find anyone."
"I doubt it. Dumbledore wouldn't let school start without all the positions filled," Harry replied in what he thought to be a reassuring voice, even though he had a slightly strange feeling in the back of his mind.
Through dinner and all announcements, never was a new professor introduced, or even spoken of. An exchange student from America named Tala Moriarty Gunning, a seventh year, joined the Gryffindors. Tala was a strikingly handsome young man, with long, lank, black hair that seemed to do whatever it damned well pleased and brilliant blue eyes that had a tendency to flit about, never resting on one single object or person. He seemed a little confused, and he kept glancing up at the staff table, to the empty space right beside Professor Snape. Neville promptly introduced himself, which left Tala a little stunned. But once Neville spoke up, more of the Gryffindors opened up to the American, and soon Tala seemed to have made friends with every boy in the house as well as Hermione and Ginny. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had approached him blushing and giggling obnoxiously, and it was no wonder Tala hadn't taken an immediate liking to them.
All throughout dinner Tala kept looking up at the staff table as though attempting to see someone who wasn't there.
"What exactly are you looking for, Tala?" Hermione asked him after about his seventh attempt at concealing his nervousness.
"The Dark Arts teacher," he said quickly, as though he had been waiting for someone to ask and had already prepared an answer.
"Do you know who it is?" Ron asked eagerly.
Tala cleared his throat in an unconvincing manner. "Er--no. Not really, I mean, at least, not exactly, maybe... well, uh... no," he finished hurriedly.
"What about the Charms professor?" pressed Ron, still unconvinced.
"What? Oh, nuh-uh. No idea. Mom never said--" at this he stopped abruptly and quickly pretended to be deeply interested in his Cornish hen.
Ron leaned over and whispered so that only Harry could hear, "He's off his rocker."
Tala kept his mouth firmly shut for the rest of the evening, and didn't even bother to hang out in the common room for any length of time.
"Hasn't even been her a day," muttered Ginny to Hermione later that evening, "and already he's got the entire house thinking he's some sort of nutter."
The next morning at breakfast, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville found Tala had beaten them by a good half hour. He had already bolted down half a plate of bacon and eggs and was reading over his schedule.
"Don't eat much, do you?" Neville asked sharply.
"No?" Tala looked at Neville strangely. "I don't, do I?" He said this as though he had never noticed. "Anyone else got Double Charms and Double... Divination?--crikey!--on their schedule?"
Harry and Ron eyed theirs contemptably. "Yeah. We do. Oh well. We've had worse first days, I suppose. I'd rather have had Defense Against the Dark Arts; I'd really like to see whoever the new professor is."
"No you wouldn't," Tala murmured to himself.
"Pardon?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Yes you did!" Ginny was glaring disapprovingly at Tala.
"I did?" He looked genuinely confused. After a moment's silence he shook his head and said dismally, "Sorr' ya'll. I honestly don't mean t' do that. Swear. Y'see, I'm a Seer--don't give me that look, Hermione--and I have short-term memory loss. Horrible short-term memory loss."
"What does Seer have to do with it?" demanded Hermione.
"Uh, well, I come from a long line of Seers--"
"You're not related to Trelawney, are you?" interrupted Ron.
"You, mein freund, are horribly tactless," snapped Tala. "No. *God* no! She's nothin' but an old fraud. I'm of Gunning blood. If there ever were a family that could beat down the Trelawney's, it was the Gunning's. My grand-dad works as an Auror for the North American Ministry. Best of 'em, too. My mom... well, let's just say she's twice as dangerous. First telekinetic--don't snort like that, telekinetics exist--in our family, and I took after her. Anyway, a few years back I accidentally... acquired the soul of another person."
"You stole someone's soul?" Ron said loudly.
"Quiet you! Don't tell the whole blamed world! Ijit... I hadn't meant to. Now I'm sort of schizophrenic--y'know, multiple personalities--and a lot of times the other personality will say something, but I won't remember. Honestly, I am sorry. This early in the morning I'm generally not awake enough to control it. Oh, and if something happens to fly across the dormitory in the middle of the night, stay right where you are. Don't get out of bed and try wakin' people up. You might get walloped. Well, tchao." Tala stood up rather quickly and nearly tripped over the bench. He hurried out of the Great Hall before anyone could ask him any further questions.
Harry and the others caught up with Tala outside the Charms classroom. Many of the other students around them were muttering and whispering amongst themselves, passing ready-made rumors about who the new professor was. Once everyone had gathered, a reedy voice called loudly from within the classroom. The voice carried so well that it could clearly be heard even the solid oak door. "C'mon, ya'll. Ain't got all day y'know!"
The foremost student pulled open the door and there was a mass gasping and yelping. Standing where Flitwick used to was a great black-and-white gryphon with steel-blue eyes. "Siddown ever'one. Hurr' now." However, the students moved slower than ever. Gryphons just weren't supposed to talk. It took a moment for everyone to sit down, but once they had, the gryphon started. "M'name's Elderblade Lu-torin. Ah expect no 'professor this' or 'professor that' from ya'll. Ah'm Elderblade. Plain and simple." He had a distinctly southern-American accent.
Parvati's hand shot in the air.
"Yeus..." prompte Elderblade, making the word "yes" into a two-syllable word."
"Parvati Patil, sir."
"Aye. Miss Patil. Question?"
"Uhm, yeah. If you're really a gryphon, how come you can talk?"
For a bird, Elderblade's face was highly expressive. He had learned several tricks to simulate the expressions of humans. At this moment, it appeared as though he was raising one eyebrow. "By jingoes..." He looked about the room and saw that Hermione's hand was in the air, as usual. "Hm?"
"You're an American gryphon. I can't tell the specific breed, though. But I know that most American gryphons have a better handle on human speech than many humans."
"Well, Ah'll be. Right on."
"Aw, come off it, Elder!" hollered Tala. "Drop the accent!"
Elderblade glared at Tala, but nodded nonetheless. "Fine. Fine. If it suits you, *Master* Gunning. Hmmm, as I was about to say... Yes, most if not all American gryphons can speak English. As for my breed, I'm of *mixed* blood," spat Elderblade, apparently disgusted by his own heritage. "My mother was a Standardbred, Best in Breed at the Darrow Grand Nationals seven years running. Now my father--" he flexed his shoulders detestably "--he's an Appalachian Sable Harrier, the rarest of all American gryphons."
A few students stared in awe.
"Aaaanywaaaay," Elderblade trilled, prancing down the row, "maybe we should actually begin class, now, eh?"
The remainder of the class was spent attempting to master a seemingly simple charm that was meant to dissolve Veritaserum and make it harmless to drink. Hermione of course had it after only two attempts, and apparently Tala had learned it at his American school, as he did it after one try and kept shooting angry glares at the gryphon. If looks could kill, Elderblade would've been shot seventeen times then incinerated twice, just to make sure he was dead. After a half hour of exchanging death glares, Elderblade finally decided to threaten to inform Tala's mother of his behavior. The American quickly set to work doing any little trivial thing he could find, and spent an hour making paper airplanes out of lined notebook paper, which he was shocked to discover he would not be using any class whatsoever.
"I guess Grand-dad will be getting a bi-weekly report then. I have to use this paper up somehow."
"Why don't you charm them to fly around the dungeons all day?" Ron hinted. Tala looked at him, horrorstruck.
"You mean, make the things follow Professor Snape all over the place? Is that really a bright idea? I mean, he'll know straight off that it was me. He'd think my mother would've put me up to it."
"Who on earth is your mother, anyway?" Hermioned finally demanded. "You and Elderblade talk about her as though she's a professor here."
"Uhhhhh... right. We do?"
Hermione dropped her head onto the table. "Not again."
When the bell rang for lunch, Harry had managed to dissolve half the Veritaserum, and was now fighting to keep himself from babbling every little insignificant--yet truthful--thing that had ever happened to him, as Elderblade had insisted that the students test it on themselves. The failure would be burned that much deeper into their minds. Tala had tied a bandana around Ron's mouth to keep him from spouting off random bits of personal information.
There was still no sign of the new DA teacher, although Elderblade now decided to join the other professors. The students who had yet not seen him stared in awe through all of lunch, except for Draco Malfoy, who did everything in his power to avoid the gryphon's gaze.
"I wonder if Draco knows Elderblade," Hermione stated, looking straight at Tala, waiting for him to answer her dazedly as he normally did. But Tala wasn't giving in to that. He just looked up at her meekly for a moment, then said flatly, "I'm not gonna answer you, so quit starin' at me!"
Following lunch was Divination, a class Tala was looking forward to. While walking up to the North Tower, Ron mumbled to Harry, "Remind me again why we took this class."
"Because we needed one more class but couldn't find any others that seemed even remotely interesting, that's why."
"Should've taken Arithmancy."
"We would've been completely lost."
Ron growled something under his breath that sounded a little like, "Could've taken it with the third years."
When they entered the classroom, which still smelled sickening and was even hotter than normal, Tala made sure to skirt about it, hidden in shadows. When they sat down at a table, he whispered, "If she sees me, she'll g' ballistic. Jest you watch."
Sure enough, when reading through the list of students, Professor Trelawney nearly shattered everyone's eardrums when she shrieked, "TALA GUNNING! WHY HAVE YOU COME TO YOUR DEMISE?"
"Well there's a change of pace," groaned Ron, snapping his fingers in his ears to make sure he wasn't deaf.
"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Usually it's me who's come for his demise."
But Tala wasn't going to put up with it for an entire year. "Listen here, y'old bat! I ain't come t' be told I'm gonna die, a'right? I'd know better'n you whether I was gonna die 'r not!" The increased inflection of an accent Harry couldn't place made Tala seem a little frightening.
Trelawney was silence, however, and returned peacefully to her attendence-taking. "Now where exactly did you say you were from?" Ron asked quietly as Trelawney flitted about the room checking names.
"Indiana."
"Where?" Harry had heard about Indiana a few times on the news, advertising for some sort of "Formula One" race, but he'd never really paid it much attention. Wisconsin was probably better known than Indiana.
"North American Ministry of Magic's headquarters are there, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Mom and Grand-dad work for 'em. An' the Slytherin House Heir is Minister of Magic."
Harry looked about at Tala sharply, cricking his neck. "Slytherin House Heir?"
"Uh-huh. Leo. He's a great man, Harry. When Sirius Black first escaped from Azkaban in our fourth year, Dumbledore contacted Leo right away to tell 'im not to send the SA after Black. Dumbledore told Leo the true story. In North America, Black's been pardoned of all crimes. He sets foot on American soil an' Leo'll shoot down any idiot that's come to arrest him."
"Really?"
"Yep. He was the first to clear Severus Snape of any charges, too. Of course, he agreed to pardon Professor Snape while my mother had her sword against his neck, but either way..."
Tala, afterwards, refused to answer any more questions, and didn't mention Leo Slytherin or the SA for the rest of the night.
In the common room that night, Harry and Ron continued to practice their Dissolving Charm, which continued to end in complete and utter failure. It didn't help that they were looking for any excuse to postpone the twelve inch essay they were required to write about their predictions for that year which was due to Trelawney that Friday. Tala had his done in a half hour, then went back and reviewed it.
"I'm making sure I didn't make a mistake or mess up a time or date or anything."
"Time? Date? You're actually looking into the future, aren't you?" Hermioned asked, a bit angry.
"Yeah. I always do that. I look ahead to see what questions will be on a test, so that way I study only the bare necessaties. I have yet to recieve anything below a B- in my life. And if what I put here never came true, my mother would find out about it and be uber-pissed because I slacked off in Divination. I'd never live it down."
"That's cheating!"
"How so?" There wasn't even the slightest hint of sarcasm in Tala's voice.
"You're not supposed to know what's on a test until you take it!"
"Really? Wow. I never thought of that."
Hermione made a sound like a growling cat, stuffed her Arithmancy in her bag, then stomped out of through the portrait hole.
"Where's she going?" Ron asked, looking up from his cup of Veritaserum and tea.
"Library," said Tala matter-of-factly. "She's mad at me 'cause she thinks my method of studying is cheating."
"Well it sort of is," Harry said, "but I won't hold that against you. I take it your whole family has an unbelievably impressive job in the Ministry, right?"
"Well, Mom's a teacher at Dale Magic Academy in Indiana--uhm, Potions. Grand-dad's an Auror for the N. A. M. M. Grandma's Senior Undersecretary for Leo... my great uncle's dead, but he used to be some rich evil little git who lived here in England. Was always bribing the Minister for some odd thing or another."
"Sounds like Lucius Malfoy. Rich and dead."
"Yeah. Never could remember his name," Tala mumbled to himself, but Harry and Ron didn't catch it.
"What about your dad," Ginny broke in. She had been standing behind Tala the whole time, listening in.
Tala looked around at her and stared her straight in the eyes until she looked away, horrified. "Tell a soul, I'll make you a hearthrug. And believe me, I'll know when you've told." He curled his lip, grinning maliciously. Ginny continued to stare at his face for a moment, as if trying to prove something. Soon, however, her face became blank and expressionless, and she marched off to the girls' dormitory without another word.
Ron was glaring at Tala by this time. "What did you show her?"
"Something you'll find out in time, because quite frankly, I don't feel like telling you," Tala sneered. Harry had the feeling there was something familiar about his expressions and his manner of speech, something that made him suddenly deeply loathe the American.
Tala sprang up suddenly, grabbed his bag--which was nothing more than a Marlboro brand cigarettes duffel bag--and sauntered off to the boys' dormitory, completely oblivious to Harry's and Ron's hateful stares.
The next morning at breakfast, Tala couldn't be found. He had apparently awoken before everyone else, because he and his things were already gone from the dormitory before anyone else was even awake. But he wasn't in the Great Hall, and nobody passed him in the corridors on their way to breakfast.
Not until Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged into the dungeons did they finally find Tala. He had completely skipped breakfast in the Great Hall--he now sat at a table in the back munching on what appeared to be a Kit Kat bar, consulting a dragonhide-bound book called "Gryphons and Dragons of the World".
"Mornin', ya'll," he muttered as Hermione took a seat to his right and Neville a seat to his left. The greeting startled Harry and the others, because it seemed a wonder that Tala could see through the curtain of shining black hair that covered his face.
"Er, morning. Why weren't you in the Great Hall," asked Ron tentatively, because Tala was giving off an aura of anger and impatience.
Tala raised his head and pushed his hair out of his face with one hand while closing the book; he appeared honestly confused. "I have no idea--" But he was cut off from saying anything more as the dungeon door slammed shut and Snape strode in, calling for silence, which was generally never necessary to begin with.
Snape hadn't even reached the front of the classroom when he suddenly stopped and spun about on his heel, glowering at Tala as if daring him to say something stupid. Tala, unlike many students just meeting the Potions Master for the first time, merely gazed back, staring Snape straight in the eye without flinching. Tala's eyes glazed over and became, literally, white and opaque; Snape appeared to be the only one not horrified by this. After a moment, Tala's eyes cleared, and he opened his book again and continued to read. Snape looked at the boy a second longer, then swept up the front of the classroom.
As Snape rattled off the directions, Tala kept reading.
"How are you supposed to know what to do?" hissed Hermione.
"I did this two years ago at Dale. I told him so this morning, and he's excused me from today's lab, and warned me not to help anyone or I'd lose points for Gryffindor. He didn't seem too serious about the point deductions, though. I don't think he really will. Hey, Neville," Tala said, shifting his gaze from his book to Neville, "I hear you have trouble in this class. I'd be glad to help you out any way I can. Mom taught me everything starting way back when I was six. All of this I've done already. Several times," he ground out. Apparently this material was extremely monotonous to him.
"If it won't get us in trouble..."
Tala snorted. "'Course not. 'e wouldn' dare punish me!"
"A bit uppity, isn't he," Ron whispered to Harry. Harry didn't reply. He had the strange feeling that there was a connection between Tala and Snape, and Tala's enigmatic mother.
But, as arrogant as Tala sounded, he wasn't exactly lying. He was indeed a genius in this field, and got nothing more than a raised eyebrow for helping Neville out, and for once, Neville's potion turned out nearly perfect.
"I think I might actually pass this year!"
"I know what your problem is," stated Tala flatly. "You're too nervous. You know the stuff, Professor Snape just makes you so nervous that you can't concentrate, so everything blows up in your face. And from what I've heard, I mean that literally." Neville flushed. "S'alright. I know quite a few people that are the exact same way. My mother's twice as intimidating, especially if she doesn't happen to like you. That's why Potions class at Dale is generally held in an open-air courtyard... actually, it's the former Intermediate School's track and football field."
"This 'Dale'... what is it exactly?" Hermione asked, finally interested.
"Dale is a private magic academy. Only the brightest or the richest go there. Or if you happen to get in on a professor's recommendation. The campus is about 36 square miles, and used to be a town, until the founders bought everything out and converted the stores and schools to classrooms and used the housing additions as dormitories of a sort. The school is divided into divisions, sort of like Hogwarts's houses, and each division takes one neighborhood. Depending on the number of bedrooms in each house, there can be anywhere from two to six students in a home. The campus operates much like an exclusive town, with shops, pubs, supply stores, restaraunts, you name it. We've even got a movie theater!"
"You mean, the Muggle world and the Wizarding world is... integrated?"
"Yup. I dunno what'd we do without Taco Bell, Starbucks, and especially Bad Ass... er, it's a coffee company from Seattle, Washington. They even sell firewhisky to the students."
"Isn't that illegal?" asked Neville.
"Of course it is, but none of the school officials have done anything to stop it. Never before has a student come to class drunk!" Tala grinned and made a weird sound that sounded a lot like he was exhaling a large amount of air through his nose very quickly, and everyone just assumed that was his idea of a laugh.
All through lunch Ron, Hermion, Neville, and even Seamus fired questions at Tala about Dale Magic Academy and Indiana--where the school was located--America in general, and mostly, how the Wizarding community in America lived, since North American wizards seemed to have integrated much of Muggle society into their daily lives. Television and the Internet were common things to see in a Wizarding household. "It makes it easier for us to know if something is going on in the 'outside world'." Tala often referred to Muggles as "outsiders" and their community as the "outside world". From what the others could gather from the random trivia, North America's Wizarding community believed themselves to be an entirely sovereign nation, set apart from Canada, the United States, and Mexico. The the governments of each respective country even recognized the magical world in their continent as a seperate nation, and could easily be compared the the Cherokee Indians.
After lunch was the class everyone had been anticipating: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Many of the seventh years practically ran to the classroom, until another professor or Filch happened to catch them and take points for being a hazard to society. When everyone rushed into the classroom, they expected to see their new professor standing or sitting somewhere in the room. But what greeted them was a girl who looked as though she belonged with the fourth years. She was dressed in the skins of St. Bernard dogs. The top was cut small in front and tapered down to the small of her back and had no sleeves, but her gloves, which looked to the paws of the animals, covered her entire lower arms. The skirt was low and was slitted on the side nearly all the way up. She wore a leather belt upon which hung the head of a St. Bernard. The most striking thing about the girl was, however, not the furs, but the great, silver, feathered wings that grew from the part of her spine directly in between her shoulder blades; the primaries were dyed brilliant green. When the loud talking had abruptly ceased, the girl looked up from the pile of papers she held in her arms and stared at the group of students in shock, as if she hadn't even noticed them standing there.
The seventh years were struck dumb by the girl's furs and wings, but not Tala. He leaned forward and whispered in Hermione's ear, "She's Celtic. That's why she's dressed that way. Don't be afraid of her until she gives you enough reason to be scared, or she'll hate you 'til the end of your days."
And so Hermione took the first steps into the classroom, and strode forward to take a seat. The girl held up a hand to stop her, and Hermione halted, more bewildered than before. Was this fourth year giving *her* orders?
"Hold up, yo. Ya'll're the seventh years, uh... Slytherin 'n' Gryffindor, right? Oh. Okay. Sorry. I forgot..." The girl stumbled backwards a few steps then turned about suddenly and half walked-half jogged to the desk at the head of the room. She dropped the papers untidily on the desk, then began rifling through the mass of papers and books on her desk in a clumsy way. Hermione continued to stare at the girl, but as Tala and Draco had already shoved their way through into the room, the rest of the seventh years followed suit and took a seat, gazing around at the oddly furnished room. In one corner there was a full-size stuffed gryphon in one corner and the skeleton of the prehistoric sabertoothed tiger, Smilodon, in the other. A huge oil painting of a red dragon hung on the wall farthest from the door, just above the large desk in the front. The dragon didn't look fierce or dangerous at all. On the contrary. He was staring with mild amusement at the students, waving once or twice, then he yawned, laid down, and fell asleep, as told by the heavy breathing.
The girl gazed dazedly about the classroom until everyone was quiet. She seemed quite detached from reality. There was a long, drawn moment of silence during which everyone exchanged nervous glances and kept peering back at the classroom door. The only people who seemed intently focused on the girl were Tala and Draco. Suddenly, the girl said, louder than necessary, "All right, ya'll, quit lookin' at the door! Ain't no one comin' through it, unless yer missin' somebody from yer class. Are ya?" Everyone shook their heads "no". "Didn' think so. Now, my name is Destry Gunning, and although most of you ain't gonna like it, I'm yer Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for *this* year. From what I've heard, the job's jinxed." There were subdued mutterings, but no outcries or loud protests. "Thank God. The last three classes practically gave themselves anuerisms screamin' at me. I'm honestly more than you take me for. I'm not fourteen, no matter how much I look it. I'm thirty-eight. Why do I still look like this? Well, to make it simple, my father was an angel--"
"Literally," Tala interrupted.
"Right, literally. A true-to-the-definition angel. Angel of death, if you wanna be specific." At this, she drew the sword that hung on her hip. The sheath looked like golden snakes with sapphire eyes interwined with each other, and the hilt was solid gold inlaid with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The minute the sword was unsheathed, the blade erupted in blue, swirling flames. Professor Gunning twirled the sword about, admiring the light and the sound of the flames as they passed through the air. She quickly sheathed it. Looking back at the class, she grinned with an amused expression. She then continued, "My mother, however, was human. She *was* the oldest sister," she said sourly, looking pointedly at Draco, "of Lucius Malfoy. That is, until she married my father. The Malfoy's disowned her. Left them much worse off. If they hadn't ousted my branch of the family, Lucius and Narcissa might still be alive, and Draco here wouldn't've been forced to live on the Dale campus with the *estranged* half of the family." Draco hid his face, but not fast enough to hide how red his face had gotten. Gunning laughed. "Oh, chill out, Draco. You know we love ya!" Gunning was beginning to come across as slightly stupid.
"She's not really as idiotic as she sounds," Tala whispered to Neville. "She's brilliant, just sort of an... air head. She's a ditz, but if you don't like Draco, trust me, you'll love 'er."
Tala hadn't been quiet enough. "Moriarty! Oh my God... I forgot you were in your seventh year!"
"Gee, Mom, you're a genius. Draco and I have only been telling you all freakin' summer we were seventh years."
"Well, I remembered Draco was--"
"Destry!" Draco said loudly. At this point his face was a deep crimson. Apparently having to listen to his cousin prattle on about him like he was her baby boy was more embarrassing than he had imagined.
"Huh? Whoops. Sorry, dude. All right, I'm done terrorizing the people I actually know. I suppose I'd better start this class... er..." Gunning seemed incredibly lost as she glanced about the entire room with a bemused expression. Suddenly the door opened and immediately everyone turned to see who it was. To everyone's shock--except Tala, Draco, and Gunning--an abnormally large centaur strode in, quickly scanning the class. The horse half of him was jet black, but the tail was a carmine color. He wore a Stetson pulled low over his face to hide his eyes, a denim shirt under a horsehide vest, and a leather belt which held a sword and had a bronze buckle with an eagle emblazoned upon it.
"Am I late, shiela?" asked the centaur, taking off his hat. His hair was short, a complete mess, and the same colour as his tail. His eyes were a brilliant, unnatural blue.
"Only by ten minutes," Gunning replied, looking at her watch, apparently flustered about some odd thing or another. "That's a new record, Kyler."
"Killer?" Neville asked, slightly worried.
"That's how it's pronounced. It's spelled K-y-l-e-r," said Tala. "He's Ravenclaw." Neville shifted his gaze from Kyler to Tala, now completely confused. "Er, house heir, y'know? Don't ask how he's a centaur; I don't think even he knows. I don't think he cares, either way, anywho. The ladies love 'im!" And that was no lie. Parvati, Lavender, and Pansy Parkinson were now staring like a bunch of lovesick puppy dogs at Kyler, who was now making his way towards the front of the classroom. He leaned down as best he could and whispered conspiratorily in Gunning's ear. She nodded, trying to lean back away from him inconspicuously. Kyler made a weird jumping backward motion, then took off out of the room, the wind he created blowing papers and quills every which way.
"Until Kyleran gets back, you're free to talk or whatever, just make sure you have paper and some sort of writing utensil ready by the time he gets back," Gunning said loudly. There was much shuffling as students recovered parchment and quills, then went about talking about what little had happened since lunch.
"Who was he?" Hermione asked Tala, twisting around in her chair.
"That's Kyleran Ravenclaw! You didn't know that? I'm shocked, Hermione," Tala said coyly.
"You're mocking me, aren't you? So how do you know him?"
"He's Minister of Magic in Australia. Australia and the Far East are the only Ministries who support the North American Ministry. The UK doesn't much like being told what to do by the US, and no wonder. But they've obviously made quite a few mistakes in the recent past that's lost 'em a lot of respect from the other Ministries."
"How many Ministries are there?" Harry asked, wondering why he'd never heard of the North American or Australian Ministry of Magic.
"Uhm... well there's the UK--they're in charge of Great Britain, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales--the European Ministry--anything in Europe stopping at the border of Russia--the Russian Ministry, the Mideastern Ministry--Israel and the Arab nations, including countries that were once part of the Soviet Union--the Far East--India, China, Japan, places in that area--the Indionesian Ministry, the African Ministry, the Oceanic Ministry--Australia and New Zealand--the North American Ministry--Canada, the US, and Mexico--and then South America--anything south of Mexico. Indonesia and Russia aren't generally recognized all that often, because Russia's so poor and Indonesia's just a bunch of islands. The Far East, Oceanic, and North American Ministries are headed by Hogwarts house heirs--Slytherin has North America, Hufflepuff has the Far East, and Ravenclaw has Oceania."
"What about the others?"
"Well, right now there's a Spanish half-angel--er, Dark Angel--who's European Minister of Magic. He's a real close friend of Slytherin's. Russian Minister of Magic is a woman who almost married Slytherin, but she backed out at the last minute. Uhm, African Minister is a young man named Mtanga, who was actually an African lion raised by spotted hyenas; he got caught up in some sort of spell that turned him human. Nice guy, but don't piss 'im of." Tala laughed quietly. "The Mideast is run by twin brothers, Tag and Rohan, who used to be Tazis--Afghan hounds--and got caught up in the same spell as Mtanga. About the only Ministry who outright opposes North America is the UK. South Americans keep to themselves. They've made it clear that they're maintaining a position of neutrality and ain't nobody gonna change their minds about it."
"That would figure. Voldemort came from the UK, so our Ministry is going to do everything to keep everyone else from knowing it, so they don't get too friendly with anyone," Harry said darkly.
"That's not entirely true," argued Ron. "Dad speaks very highly of Slytherin and the European Minister, Diego. Mum doesn't like either of 'em, but that's because Slytherin used to be a pirate and Diego gambles on horse and dog races regularly. When I was younger, I met Diego. He's a bit... off--all right, he's downright insane--but he was really nice to all of us. He was the one that gave Bill the permit to study in Romania."
"Really? I can't ever remember him mentioning the Weasley's," Tala said.
"He wouldn't," Ron mumbled.
Again, the door burst open, and Kyleran cantered in followed by a giant, snow-white wolf, very nearly the size of a horse. Kyler and the wolf reached the front of the classroom, and the centuar turned back around and left hastily. The giant wolf was left with Gunning.
"Right. As far as I've heard, you've had some pretty crack teachers. About the only one I would consider actually successful was Lupin. So I'll attempt to pick up where he left off: studying dark creatures. He never covered werewolves, did he?"
"I should hope not!" snorted Draco derisively.
"Shut yer trap, boy, 'r'll 'ave ya hanged," growled the wolf. The students all stared at the wolf. Right before their eyes, the wolf glowed a neon green colour. The light rearranged itself into the shape of a human, then faded, leaving a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed man standing in the wolf's place.
"This here's Leonard Slytherin, werewolf, house heir, and North American Minister of Magic. Feel privilege, ya'll, Leo left his post at the Ministry to come be an example of a werewolf." Gunning said this as though it were the greatest privilege in the world.
"You fit the description of an Animagus better, though, sir," Hermione said, almost as a question.
"Middle Eastern, UK, 'n' Russian werewolves 'r' the only werewolves who're act'ally 'vicious'. All others're political creatures. We don' hurt humans 'less we absolutely hafta. We change at will, an' the full moon's got no effect on us," said Leo proudly.
The next hour was spent listening to Leo and Gunning spout of random, unconnected bits of information about the different types of werewolves in the world, but it was oddly more informative than the students were used to. Leo showed his transformation again, and leapt into an all-out attack on Gunning. She held him off with the sword--not flaming--while explaining the one spell which could change a werewolf back to its human form, thereby rendering it harmless. She aimed the spell right between Leo's eyes, and as she screamed the spell, Leo flew backwards, hit the floor, and rolled about two meters, all the while glowing neon green. When he came to a stop against the wall, he was human again, spread-eagled against and standing on his head.
As the students filed out, the bell having rung immediately following the performance, Harry said, "I don't think even Lupin could've done a better lesson."
"It was unorganized," Hermione complained.
"That's not normal," said Tala flatly. "It's her first lesson in this subject, not to mention this school. It'll go better after now. Leo didn't help any. He's naturally unorganized. If he ever did anything in a sensible order, his wife would have him sent to a psychiatrist."
"Who is his wife?" Hermione glanced back over her shoulder at Leo, who was leaving the classroom behind the group of students. He was unnaturally tall.
"Tall, ain't 'e?" Tala was grinning at her. "Seven feet, three inches. Three hundred twenty-five pounds, four percent of which is body fat. The dude rivals Bruce Lee! And his wife is Silverbrand Blackbird, Vampyre Queen. She's staying in Exeter with her brother, Huend Sagenhaft, the 'legendary hound' vampyre."
"Wicked. I'd bet their kids are something to reckon with?" Ron looked positively frightening in his excitement.
"Er, well, yeah, if Firebrand, Brightspirit, and Silverspirit could ever bring themselves to hurt anyone."
"Those are odd names."
"American Wizard names. Leo's real name is Spirit." Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked all the more confused.
Destry Gunning was to be found at dinner that night in the Great Hall, seated beside Professor Snape. She seemed quite friendly with him, but whenever Snape caught a student looking, he would give a death glare that could've ignited the poor kid right on the spot.
Leo made a friendly cameo just to say good-bye to Gunning. He and Destry exchanged a few quick words, but Leo remained, glaring hard at Snape, as if willing him to implode or something.
"Leo hates 'im, actually. Pisses him off to no end to have pardoned the poor bastard because of a death threat. But Leo won't mess with the Gunning's, not unless he's got a death wish," whispered Tala hurriedly. When Leo stalked past, apparently now in a towering temper, Tala called after him, "Happy Chanukah!" Leo turned about, walking backwards and staring at Tala as though he belonged in an insane asylum. The werwolf tripped over an out-of-place stone and toppled over. Everyone in the Hall nearly laughed themselves into a coma, even Snape, who had never really laughed before, which was a bit of a frightening experience for the students who noticed. Leo picked himself up and stumbled out the Great Hall, more angry than ever.
"What was that for?" snapped Hermione.
" 'Tis great fun. He falls over every time someone tells him 'Happy Chanukah'! It's our favourite pasttime at Dale: See Who Can Make the Minister Fall Over."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly and shook her head, but said nothing more. Tala was useless for the rest of the night, because whenever someone would slip up in just the slightest way, he would dissolve into fits of laughter and couldn't stop for a full three minutes, at which point, someone else would do something trivial like drop a knife, and the whole cycle would start all over again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That was amusing. This took me two weeks to type. *faints* KT's been begging me to finish the first chapter for ages.