The students filed into the spacious classroom for the second time that term; as the Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson was due to begin in a few short minutes. Taking their seats on opposite sides of the classroom, the Slytherins and Gryffindors set about taking their books out of their bags and chatting idly to one another. It seemed this year; Dumbledore had succeeded in requisitioning a reasonably knowledgeable Defence teacher, as the first lesson with the new Professor Ignatius Dacribade went swimmingly, as he proved himself educated in Magical Creatures, Dark Magic, and Defensive Mechanisms wizards could employ against Magical Creatures if the wizard encounters one. He also possessed a refined teaching air of knowledge and theatricality that impressed and often intimidated his students, almost as much as his round figure did. Professor Dacribade informed the class about his extensive research projects in near-human magical creatures and magical creatures of human appearance. The class seemed so-so impressed by it, and so they returned to their second lesson without the growing feeling of dread anticipation that they usually associated with a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Well, it's really not as bad as it could be, Ron." Hermione, the bushy haired Gryffindor addressed her lanky ginger counterpart.
"Yeah," he concurred. "He could be Lockhart, gabbing on about pixies."
"At least this time it seems Professor Dacribade actually has some scholarly qualifications to back him up. I wonder if he'll tell us about his studies of magical creatures of human appearance. I read an article about it in Transfiguration Today, and they said that Professor Dacribade had some tremendous adventures in Bulgaria tracing down the lineage of magical creatures in the heritage of prominent wizarding families." Hermione gushed, ignoring Ron's off hand comment.
"He's digging into wizarding family backgrounds?" Harry asked curiously. "I'm surprised they let him study that. Can you imagine the Slytherins just rolling over to let him expose their pureblood family's secret ancestry?"
"Hah!" Ron crowed. "That'll be likely."
"I suppose that's why they called it an adventure." Hermione mused. "He did get into some close, er, scrapes with the government."
Harry looked around to the back of the classroom. His gaze cast onto the Slytherin he sought, Draco Malfoy, and he seemed to be in a most irritable mood.
"Hey," Harry nudged Ron and Hermione, directing their attention with eyebrow raises of deep suspicion to the twitchy Slytherin in the back row. "Malfoy doesn't seem too happy with our new teacher. He's practically jumping down everyone's throat."
From their seats in the middle of the domed classroom the golden trio could see Malfoy sitting low down in his chair, having picked the one at the very back of the room, closest to the door. Next to him on his left sat his flunkies Crabbe and Goyle, fiddling with their text books. Crabbe was stacking them up to be just so, and Malfoy suddenly grabbed the top book, whacked it into Crabbe's shoulder and slammed it down on the table, then went back to fuming with his arms crossed. On the right side of him Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were regarding him with worry. Parkinson reached out one of her hands, intending to stroke Draco's shoulder, but he swatted it away and she frowned, sat back and examined the polish on her nails, clearly displeased with her classmate's reaction. Zabini let out a low whistle and laughed, before diving into his bag, apparently looking for something of great importance while Parkinson glared at the back of his head, looking ready to slap him.
Ron laughed. He then turned back to Hermione and Harry, raising an eyebrow, his face a picture of mischief.
"Slytherins." He scoffed. "They're all another species if you ask me."
Their conversation was stagnated by the arrival of the teacher.
"Good morning students." Professor Dacribade's eyes swept enthusiastically over the class, smiling jovially, and eventually narrowed in an expression of satisfaction, making him appear rather like a cat that had spotted a mouse bathing in a dish of cream. His voice was deep and rumbling and he entered the room with many sweeping movements much like a stage actor. He shuffled the notes he carried decorously and placed them down on his desk.
Harry cast one more glance to the Slytherins at the back. Malfoy was still slumped down into his chair, and although his friends were all paying attention to the teacher now, Malfoy was doing everything he could to avoid the Professor's gaze.
"Today I thought I might share with you some of my findings from my project in Bulgaria." (Hermione sat up a little straighter, her smile widening in anticipation of the information she desired.) "And enlighten you all a little about the nature of magical genetics and their characteristics in different generations." The professor waved his wand at the blackboard and several incantations scrawled themselves upon the board. He flicked his wand to the pile of papers on his desk and they flew out across the class, one of them landing on each of the student's desks. Hermione reached out to grab her copy eagerly and scoured it with her eyes.
"Veela, in Bulgaria and other parts of greater Europe, are magical creatures that are, of course human in appearance. Those of you who witnessed the World Cup will recognise and understand what a Veela is, but for the sake of this lesson, is there anyone who doesn't know what a Veela is?"
Dacribade bowed forward and smiled invitingly at each student of the class.
"Don't be afraid now, just put up your hand if you're not sure. Yes, you?"
Seamus Finnegan put up his hand tentatively. Seamus came from a muggle home. His mother was the witch, and so like many of the non wizarding families, Seamus was uncertain as to what Veela were.
"I saw some Veela at the World Cup, an' I know what them one's were like an' all, but I don't really know what they are, as in, 'what' they are, sir."
"An excellent question!" Dacribade said in his lilting voice. "Veela are a type of magical creature, and, while they may look human, they are most certainly to be placed in the category of magical beasts." He smiled at the class once more, a wide smile, showing lots of teeth. Hermione immediately raised her hand to offer her input.
"But they're not though. The International Convention of the Classification of Magical Creatures in ---- placed Veela in the being category, after being considered along with merpeople and centaurs for the beast category. The Council decreed that although Veela had beastly qualities, they had control enough to mainstream with wizarding society." She put her hand down, as the professor considered her with narrowed eyes.
"Yes, Miss Granger. That is what the council said." He addressed her directly, but then turned to continue his sentence to the rest of the class. "However, due to recent events and breakthroughs in wizarding sciences there have been revolts among Veela communities in areas of wizarding population. Several fatalities have occurred already, and if you recall it in the news recently, a group of Veela were responsible for the burning and slaughter of the Chernok family in Latvia. Ministries all over Europe have been reconsidering their position on Veela control and policies are being changed as we speak."
Most of the class were engaged in this debate, but at the back of the classroom Draco Malfoy was mumbling to his friends under his breath. Professor Dacribade cleared his throat and looked expectantly at the Slytherin trio at the back.
"Is there something you would like to share with the class?" Dacribade asked the group, his eyes flashing over Draco Malfoy. Malfoy looked away immediately and muttered stifled apologies, but next to him his classmates looked alive with outrage.
"But that isn't fair!" Parkinson exclaimed. Next to her, Malfoy tugged on her arm to signal her to shut up.
"No," She mumbled to him. "Professor – "
"Pansy, forget it."
"The Chernok family were enslaving Veela. It's all political bullshit!" Blaise Zabini loudly told the class. Whispers broke out among the students. Students asked one another if it was true, and the Professor just stood at the front of the class, still staring at the group of Slytherins in the back. His expression seemed frozen into the wide smile he wore before, but this time it was directed at Malfoy, who did everything to look away.
"Is there any evidence for that, Mr Zabini?" Dacribade asked politely, as if Zabini's language was distasteful to him.
"The Veela who were enslaved can tell enough – "
"No Veela have come forward to tell of this, Mr Zabini. It remains a rumour, and not fact, which is what we deal with in this class."
"Well, they couldn't tell, could they? If they were ensl–"Pansy Parkinson protested.
"Miss Parkinson. There has been no direct evidence, political or otherwise that Veela had the right or provocation to attack the Chernok family, who happened to be very good friends of mine. So if we could please, stick to the facts."
Hermione looked worried in her seat at the middle. It was her nature to fret about the plight of magical creatures, but it was her passion to follow the facts. She was really excited to have a DADA teacher who would deal with wizarding science, something that no other teacher had done, but the politics in this class!
"Please sir," Seamus Finnegan put up his hand. It seemed he asked his question irreverent of the information provided by the Slytherins, perhaps just for the sake of going against them. "You hadn't properly explained to me Veelas."
The Professor smiled again, this time at Seamus and continued his lecture. The Slytherins settled back down to their seats.
"The plural is Veela, Mr Finnegan. Veela is the term for both singular and plural. Now, Veela are magical creatures with human qualities. They appear mostly as beautiful humans, and have a constant magic, called an allure, that increases their beauty when that allure is activated. This allure makes Veela irresistible to humankind, and helps them find sexual partners, as above all, Veela are creatures of a sexual nature."
With this new turn of conversation many students went red in the face. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled, and several of the boys blushed, remembering, perhaps, the allure of the Veela at the World Cup.
"It has been published in wizarding fiction that Veela mate for life. This is not true. This is a fiction, students, as Veela are creatures prized for their sexual allure. They do not seek any one mate any more than wizards do, and they find partners based on the general markers of attraction that are biologically set for all creatures. Wizards find Veela particularly entrancing as sexual partners, and so have become prized trophy wives, with wizards initiating bonds and such to garner desirable partners. This is perhaps how Veela blood has entered the wizarding bloodline, which is the topic of my studies."
Some students looked down to the sheet of notes that the Professor distributed beforehand. The sheets did not detail Veela lineage, however, but had several incantations and descriptions of wand movements to do with Veela-Wizard interactions and precautions. Hermione studied them with a mild fascination, but her attention remained on the teacher, his speech, and his use of the word 'bond'.
"A first generation Veela, which is to say a Veela that is entirely a magical creature, carries this allure. It also has many animal attributes that include transformations into birdlike creatures with wings, claws and beaks when enraged. Veela have instinctual control over fire, and have seasonal mating periods and times in which their instincts, such as the allure and transformations become uncontrollable. This is true for a first generation Veela."
The class seemed interested in the content now, and the Slytherin dissidents at the back were paying attention. Draco Malfoy was still scowling up a storm, but he wasn't muttering, nor was he making any eye contact with the teacher.
"The Veela gene skips the second generation, then becoming recessive, in the ways of the powers and transformations. The good looks, however, is a constant. Children of wizard – Veela relations have the angular bone structure and pale fair features. Hair, skin tone, eye colour. A small tint of luminosity remains underneath their skin, the remains of the Veela allure, but the powers are otherwise non-detectable, and no spells or potions can reveal this in second generation Veela."
The information was getting interesting, but still Draco Malfoy looked like he would like nothing more than to leave the classroom. It wasn't too obvious. It was just the many looks cast to the door and the hiding behind his textbook pages that would give him away. Harry noticed this with one of his passing glances towards the back row and frowned somewhat. What would Malfoy care for Veela – Wizard relations? Apparently his whole family was pureblood. If that wasn't the case it was no wonder he was jumpy. But it didn't seem to be just a case of family heritage. Harry thought he saw fear in Malfoy's eyes.
"Third generation Veela have been the subject of my study in Bulgaria, as it was through the surprising new revelations in wizarding science that we have discovered the dispersion of first generation Veela powers in their third generation grandchildren. Through careful experimentation –"
"Murder." Muffled in a cough this word rang out from the back of the classroom. Draco Malfoy sat, looking as innocently as possible at his textbook and his friends Zabini and Parkinson looked righteous beside him, glaring up at the teacher. Dacribade continued, raising his histrionic voice louder.
"Through careful experimentation techniques have been discovered to uncover the potent powers inherent in third generation Veela –"
"Citizens." The voice again cried in protest. Dacribade rumbled louder.
"That have lain dormant in their system as a result of interbreeding with wizards. These powers can be uncovered, and controlled through –"
"Slavery!" A voice echoed from the back.
"Oppression!" Another chimed in. It seemed at the back the row of Slytherins were rife with indignation and outrage. Zabini and Parkinson were on their feet and Malfoy was looking mutinous from his chair.
"Controlled through certain spells." Dacribade thundered in his theatrical voice. He paused and for once his gaze turned menacing. "Spells of which I have provided for you all in those notes."
For once Draco looked up and met Professor Dacribade's gaze. Dacribade grinned victoriously and began his speech again, not taking his eyes off the young Malfoy boy as he spoke.
"It is a marker of a powerful wizard to control a third generation Veela as the dormant powers intensify when uncovered and bring the wizard tremendous advantages once the Veela is brought under his control. It is done through a bonding spell that renders the Veela obedient to the will and whim of the wizard controlling it. A Veela can only be bonded to one wizard at a time, so while the wizard holds the bond of a Veela, that Veela becomes his, and belongs to no other." Dacribade smiled widely as the class exploded with uproar.
"You shouldn't be teaching us this!"
"Slavery! It's blatant slavery!"
"Why would you do this to helpless creatures?"
"That's forcing them. They're human, mate."
Ron's ears burned when he considered the indignity of the bonding, and Dacribade's lesson so far. He was actually quite tickled at first of the idea of having his own personal Veela slave on some hidden level of his mind, but his common sense vehemently rejected it when he heard Hermione mutter.
"How horrible! Fleur's part Veela, would wizards do this to her?!"
Harry inwardly sighed. Once again the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was revealed to be some sort of bigoted fiend. Teaching students how to enslave Veela. It was against all of Harry's instincts to force someone into doing something they didn't want to do, all his memories from the Dursley's self-righteously ordering Harry about his whole life was enough to turn him off the prospect immediately.
Malfoy was still frozen in his seat, staring wide eyed at the roaring Professor as he continued his tirade.
"The first spell!" Dacribade shouted to be heard above the crowd. They looked at him as he continued his sermon on Veela. "On your notes is the spell to uncover third generation Veela for what their true form is. It can be used to test a person's suspicions about Veela heritage, as it has no effect on a normal wizard short of a slight tickling sensation. It does cause a rather painful transformation if it comes in contact with a third generation Veela."
Malfoy's eyes were wide as saucers. His friends Pansy and Blaise were shaking with rage as they stood beside him, holding their wands out in preparation.
"The second spell is the bond. Once that bond is formed no other wizard may control the Veela. The Veela will be in the complete control of the wizard casting the bond."
Malfoy snapped out of his stupor and nearly tumbled out of his chair. Scrambling to his feet he raced to the classroom door, but the door snapped shut the instant he reached it. Malfoy slammed into the door, and panic-stricken he rattled the handle. At the front of the class Dacribade stood with his wand out, pointing it steadily at the classroom door.
"Now class," He drawled, the excitement in his voice was evident. Over by the door Malfoy had drawn his wand and was pointing it at the door. His cries of panic could be heard.
"Alohamora. Alohamora! Aloha – fucking – mora!"
Dacribade's smile widened.
"Identify, if you will, the third generation Veela in this class."
"Let me out!"
The students all screamed and jumped to the sides of the room as Dacribade's wand fired a booming shot to the back of the classroom.
"Varaktova!"
Screams bounced off the walls of the domed classroom. Malfoy had jumped out of the way of the first shot and was staring in disbelief at the sizable burn mark on the wooden door where his head had just been.
"Varaktova!"
Malfoy dodged it again and looked up in alarm.
"Impedimentia!"
"Stupefy!"
Pansy and Blaise were firing curses at the Defence Against the Dark Art's teacher and he blocked them all, sending them ricocheting towards the ceiling of the classroom, blasting pieces of marble from the roof.
"Varaktova!"
"You're insane!" Malfoy exclaimed.
"Varaktova! Damn it! I will have my Veela! Varaktova!"
"I'm not a Veela!" Malfoy cried.
"You have the cheekbones, the hair colour, the eyes, the skin, the allure! I will own a Veela!"
Another blast echoed through the classroom. Students were huddled in corners in the classroom. Dacribade was focused on Malfoy, but the danger was high for the students as well. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins had gathered together and were hiding under the platform that the desks were standing on, underneath the immediate floorboards of the room. The leaders, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Zabini and Parkinson were at the edge of the ledge, casting Impertuable Charms on the floorboards and the ledge where the students had entered.
"He's gone mental!" Ron croaked.
"Let me go, Blaise, Draco's out there, I need to help him!" Pansy struggled against the cage of Blaise's arms.
"I know we need to help him. Rushing out there and getting yourself killed wont help!"
"Is there anything we can do?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"No!" Parkinson yelled.
"Yes!" Zabini said at the same time. "What we need is a plan. Some way we can get Draco down here away from that Veela crazed bureaucrat, at least until help comes."
"Then one of us needs to get help." Harry said, getting in on the plan.
"A message!" Hermione gasped. "Harry, send a Patronus to Dumbledore. Tell him that we're all in trouble."
"Draco's in trouble!" Pansy indignantly added.
"How's he even in trouble?" Ron stubbornly interceded. "He said he's not Veela, right? It should only tickle that pureblood git."
Another loud bang was heard above the floorboards.
"You think that will tickle?" Blaise asked him sarcastically.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry waved his wand. The huddled crowd of Slytherins and Gryffindors ohh-ed and ahh-ed at the silvery stag that stood before Harry.
"Go to Dumbledore, ok? Tell him that we're trapped in the defence classroom on the third floor, and that Professor Dacribade had gone awol. We need help, reinforcements. Tell him he's after Malfoy, but he's blowing the classroom apart. And tell him to get Madam Pomfrey. If Dacribade fires that spell at Malfoy I think either way he's going to need healing. Go."
The stag galloped away and disappeared through the wall to the left of the platform. Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve.
"But Harry, you didn't mention the Veela!"
"We don't know if he's Veela yet!" Ron grumbled.
"I don't know if Dacribade has his spell-work right, but Draco does have Veela in his heredity. Remember that uncle we saw at the wedding, Blaise?" Parkinson joined the conversation with a serious expression.
"Well, how are we going to get him down here safe, anyway?" Zabini enquired. On the platform above, Dacribade's footsteps creaked and a resounding boom shook dust from the floorboards as a guttural groan could be heard. The students all looked up. Potter, Weasley, Granger, Zabini and Parkinson all stuck their heads around the platform, and other students followed suit, creeping their fingers over to peek at the scene unfolding.
Malfoy staggered forward, clutching his stomach. He moaned softly. His breathing suddenly became laboured. His body started shivering.
"AHA!" Dacribade crowed. It seemed he knew where the class was all along, as he motioned to them the shaking blonde boy. Malfoy gasped and fell forward to the floor, throwing out his hands to instinctually catch himself. His whole body was shuddering violently and he was gasping frantically for air.
"You see! I was right! Pay close attention students, for this is what happens when a Veela's genetics take flight." The man's eyes were wild and wide. His pupils were hugely dilated in his mania, and some dribble hung from his chin.
Malfoy's heavy panting led way to cries of pain. His hair masked his face, as it had fallen forwards and obscured his features. His hands clenched and his arms shuddered to hold him upright. He suffered sudden and terrible spasms in his shoulders that were accompanied by some horrid screams.
"Draco!" Pansy cried out.
Harry was staring at this transformation with a fearful fascination. To see your worst enemy being tortured is a conflicting experience. It gave Harry an overwhelming protective urge for someone who had done nothing but blight his life with cruel indifference and bullying behaviour. But Harry couldn't see him suffer. What he could see was the emerging characteristics of Veela that Malfoy's system had repressed.
His skin seemed to glow with an outward luminosity. His white blonde hair took on this radiance too, shining with a white light. Everything about his frame seemed to become more delicate, his fingers seemed longer and more slender. The angle of his arm, his elbow, his back all seemed elegantly arranged so, as if he wasn't being affected by intense pain. His face, though contorted with agony and suffering, was beautiful, the delicate structure of his bones seemed more prominent. His cheekbones became subtly more pronounced. His lips seemed a deeper pink. His skin was smooth, pale and almost poreless in its perfection.
Draco's eyes were screwed shut with pain. Another warbled shout cascaded from his lips, but it sounded lyrical, like magic or bird song. Malfoy's eyes flew open and through the pearlescent tears it seemed his irises had taken on this new glow that possessed the rest of his body. Rather than the stony grey they were before, his eyes shone like silver mirrors, catching all the light in the room and reflecting it back. With another guttural shudder Malfoy screamed, and the ripping of fabric could be heard. Zabini and Parkinson were terrified for their friend, and were halfway over the platform, being held back by Weasley and Granger.
The ripping fabric noise sounded again and a split formed down the back of Draco's school shirt. Another ripping sound, and with a last hair-raising scream, the shirt split and fell in tatters from his back. A pair of massive white wings had forced their way out of the young Slytherin's back and unfurled widely, as if they had broken forth from his skin and were revelling in the air. They flapped once.
Professor Dacribade, who had been watching the spectacle from the front of the classroom took a greedy step forward, his eyes were fiery with longing, achievement, and lust.
Malfoy's arms finally collapsed from exhaustion and he fell down in a heap, his wings curled protectively around his body.
The room was silent.
The students who had been watching the transformation with wide eyes now exchanged fearful glances. Blaise and Pansy burst forward from the platform and ran to kneel beside Draco.
"Draco! Draco? Can you hear me? Draco?" Pansy sobbed, her hands fluttered over the prone form of her friend.
"Breathe, mate. Wake up Draco." Blaise determinedly growled.
Ron, Harry and Hermione had climbed over the platform as well, having been pulled somewhat by the distraught Slytherins.
"A Veela." Dacribade breathed from the front of the classroom, his eyes still aglow with scientific zeal. "I was right. A third generation Veela."
Harry stepped forward, partly to get a better view of the newly transformed Draco Malfoy. Hermione looked too, but cast an expectant and cautious gaze to the door.
Draco's eyes were closed in the image of peaceful sleep. The sweat that glistened on his brow suggested otherwise. His shirt was torn at the back from where his wings had emerged, but the cuff of his sleeve rested against the edge of his face. His wings were contained, folded on his back, much in the way birds fold their wings when they don't fly.
Harry took another step forward, his wand raised. He then banished all indecision and strode forward next to Malfoy.
Dacribade was still staring vacantly at the unconscious figure of Draco Malfoy. His hand subconsciously hung about his mouth as he muttered things about Veela and transformations and science under his breath. His voice suddenly burned with passion, as he realised the potential next step.
"He's mine." Dacribade whispered, a little louder this time. He took another step towards the boy.
"Impedimentia!"
Dacribade was thrown backwards against the blackboard at the front of the classroom. Harry stood protectively in front of the winged boy, holding his wand steady in front of him. Harry's eyes were fierce with fury. Dacribade wouldn't take another step towards Draco Malfoy, as far as Harry Potter was concerned. Dacribade rolled his rotund girth around in the rubble of the blackboard and set about righting himself. He laughed, slowly and with the quality of the mad.
"Want him for yourself, do you Potter?" The repulsive man huffed.
Harry narrowed his eyes and angled his wand more fiercely towards the DADA teacher.
There was a sudden loud banging outside of the classroom door.
"It won't open, Severus."
"Locked with several charms, Minerva. Are the children inside?"
After hearing this, all the students under the platform began crying out for help.
"We're here! We're under here!"
"Professor McGonagall, the door won't budge."
"Quick, let us out! He's done something to Malfoy!"
"Let us out, Professor Snape!"
BOOM
Dacribade fired another spell over the heads of the students.
"Nobody leaves until the bond is made." Dacribade advanced towards the shield of students that formed around Malfoy. They all raised their wands.
"Not another step." Blaise growled.
"He's mine." Dacribade roared at he students.
"Silencio!" Pansy Parkinson squealed, her spell hitting Dacribade straight in the jaw.
Several loud noises erupted from behind the classroom door.
"Students, clear out of the way of the door. We're going to blast it open." McGonagall called out.
Dacribade flicked his wand at the group on the floor, and the spell hit Pansy Parkinson on the cheek, slicing it open. She gasped.
He raised his wand again.
"Protego!" The cry rang out. Potter, Granger, Weasley and Zabini cast the shield charm in unison while Pansy covered her cheek.
"Ready? In 3…" McGonagall and Snape could be heard from outside the door.
Dacribade's wand sent a jet of red light to the group on the floor. Their four-strong Protego deflected it.
"2…"
The rumble of magic began to fill the air. Hermione began casting barricade spells behind the protective faction.
Dacribade grunted with frustration and hurtled his immense body across the room, meaning to detain the student's physically. Harry, who stood at the very front of the group, raised his wand with determination.
Then, a lot of things happened at once. McGonagall and Snape cried out "1!" and the doors flew across the classroom, having been blasted off their hinges. Hermione's wards deflected the right half of the door away from the group and it crashed into the wall. The other half of the door went hurtling over to the left wall of the classroom, and the other students hurried under the platform as the door sailed above them. A cloud of smoke, dust and magic blew into the classroom. And Harry cast the most powerful stupefy spell he had ever recalled casting.
When the dust cleared, McGonagall and Snape swept into the room to see the foursome of Slytherin and Gryffindor students standing with their backs to the doorway facing the unconscious Professor Dacribade as he lay amongst the rubble and debris of the far end of the classroom. Cautious students poked their heads up from underneath the platform under the floor, and in the middle of the room a tearful, bleeding, Pansy Parkinson was kneeling beside what looked like a dying angel. Draco Malfoy, with bloodstained white wings, stretched out cold on the floor.
"Oh My Goodness!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.
Snape's face turned a bloodless grey. Swooping through the clearing dust cloud, Snape stooped down next to the fallen Slytherins and began checking them over for injuries. After checking Draco first, discovering the blood stains on the wings that he had all of a sudden, were through no injury of his own, but rather from Miss Parkinson's bloodstained hands that she touched to her cheek before she shielded Draco from the blast. The wings were a different, altogether more startling matter, but beyond Snape's immediate expertise, he concluded, and so moved to fixing Miss Parkinson's cut face.
McGonagall motioned with shaking arms for the students underneath the platform to come out and into the corridor.
"To the hall. You are all to go to the Great Hall. Now. There are to be no arguments. We will be down shortly."
She watched the students file out of the broken doors, and when the last student left, she turned towards the remaining students in the middle of the classroom.
Pacing towards them quickly, McGonagall looked at each of them in turn.
She also peered over to the far end of the classroom and spied Professor Dacribade sprawled unconscious in the mess.
"What happened this time?" She asked.
"He's a bigoted, vile, blood-prejudiced, slave driving, ugly rapist." Blaise snarled under his breath.
"He's also fat." Pansy added with a sniff.
"Professor Dacribade?" McGonagall queried.
"He was trying to teach the class to enslave Veela, Professor." Hermione explained.
"He cursed Malfoy and gave him some weird, Veela reaction." Ron scowled. "He nearly brought the whole classroom down over our heads. It was horrible. Then he tortured Malfoy with some weird spell, and then he … ended up, like… this." Ron finished rather weakly.
"Veela?" Professor McGonagall asked. "But Mr Malfoy has shown no confirmation of Veela traits. You say there was a spell, Weasley?"
"Hang on a minute." Ron jogged over to the upturned classroom desks and fished from the debris a paper. He brought it over.
"Er, it's this spell here."
McGonagall surveyed the sheet of notes, her eyes widening as she read.
"And you're sure it was just the first one?" She confirmed.
"Yeah."
"Thank you Mr Weasley. That was very helpful of you. Professor Snape. If you could take this with you to the hospital wing. And Mr Malfoy. Thank you."
Snape looked grave as he conjured up a stretcher and placed Malfoy's unconscious, winged body onto it. Taking the paper and regarding it with a scowl he drifted out of the room with Malfoy's stretcher hovering in tow behind him.
"Do any of you students require hospital attention?" Professor McGonagall briskly asked.
Pansy's face was healed so she shook her head. Blaise followed suit. The Gryffindors looked over their shoulder to Harry. He hadn't moved since he cast the charm and had been looking down onto the obtuse body of Professor Dacribade with an expression of deep disgust and revulsion.
"Harry?" Hermione touched Harry's robe and he snapped out of his stupor.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied.
"Good. Good." McGonagall crossed her arms and nodded. Continuing, she walked the students to the door. "Professor Dumbledore received your message Potter. He seemed to have more knowledge about the situation than most, for he immediately set off to Bulgaria to talk to the minister there about Dacribade's experiments. He will be back shortly with a cure. Ah – I don't know how anyone could have predicted what has happened with Mr Mal – but then again, Dumbledore was aware of his Veela heritage." McGonagall was turning over different aspects of the situation in her mind.
"Er, Professor?" Hermione prompted.
"Oh, yes Miss Granger?"
"Where should we - ?"
"Oh, yes. To my office if you will. Miss Granger, if you could lead them there. I must address the students in the great hall, but when I come back I have to speak to you all." She nodded again, looking troubled by the situation. Realising quickly that Professor Dacribade was still in the classroom she muttered a quick incantation and the Professor was tied up in silver chains in the corner of the room. McGonagall summoned his wand and with a wave of her own reattached the doors to the doorframe and locked him inside the classroom.
Waving to the students to go on up to her office she bade them farewell.
"I will be back in several minutes, please do not leave my office until then."
She then marched down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. Hermione took this as her queue and began leading the group to McGonagall's office.