DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.
The Great Hall was abuzz with energy that morning, with the Hogwarts rumor mill working faster than the Daily Prophet could print. Breakfast was of most interest, especially when those who'd entered the Hall to dig into crisp bacon strips and eggs fried sunny-side up found their eyes trailing upon the addition to the faculty's table.
Seated on the far edge of the table beside Snape was a teen draped in Hogwarts robes; some had assumed it was a student, but with no colored trimmings whatsoever to address which House he belonged to, the idea was scratched out. What added to the mystery still was the cordial manner with which the lad shared with the resident Potions Master.
Severus Snape was, as some of the older students were loathe to admit, a prodigy who was more than enough to accommodate the Potions curriculum the school had. He was strict in class, and asked for nothing else but the best each could give, if not more of it. As such, the attitude all but rubbed off of most of the students the wrong way. Add to the fact that the man seemed to be incapable of anything else other than apathy, annoyance, anger, and sarcasm, the professor was found to be in possession of infamy among the academic denizens of Hogwarts.
That was the assumption that many did not question: Severus Snape's range of emotions rivaled that of an owl's. And by the very fact that his lips seemed to curl up ever so slightly while in conversation with the young man left many that morning with mouths agape and chewed eggs falling back onto their plates.
As more students piled into their respective choice of tables and had done quick greetings among their peers, the whisperings and conversations all around had circled away from the expanding range of Snape's facial expressions and onto the albino chuckling heartily beside him.
Hearts were already skipping beats at his wonderful smile, his emerald orbs that seemed to shine behind those glasses, and the untamed and exotic fringe of white that crowned him. Mysterious did not even begin to expound on the young man's identity and background, and the majority of the female populace of students definitely agreed that just made him more captivating.
The males, on the other hand, could only make half-hearted, or very lacking, opinions on Snape's seatmate. There wasn't much information to digest here, and almost every rumor popping every second from neighboring Houses sounded every bit as outlandish as the one that came before it. But that did not mean they would pass the chance to size this guy up—whoever he might be.
Once the Great Hall's capacity seemed to approach nigh full, Dumbledore stood from his seat and approached the podium, with the students eager to hear much of the faculty's latest addition—if he was more than just a guest, that was.
"Good morning to all! Now, as we enter the third month of our academic year, I hope that the first-year students have acclimated to the activities of Hogwarts. I have every confidence that most of you are quite comfortable with the pace you have chosen to approach your studies, but I advise that each and everyone please practice attentiveness when it comes to your grades.
"Now, I believe I have left everyone in wonder as to the addition we have here with us for our faculty. This young man has been taken in under the newly added Apprenticeship Course for most wizards and witches aspiring to begin their careers earlier, only graduating after five years of the Course. While most are unaware of the workings of the Apprenticeship, I am confident he will be quite happy to indulge your curiosity upon the matter.
"Allow me to introduce Apprentice Julius! He will be working with your professors during specific schedules to act as assistant and aide, especially to our fledgling first-years!"
A lukewarm applause filled the Hall as Julius had stood from his seat, expression all business-like, and bowed with poise to the students. Ears had perked up when no surname or second name followed after what was shared, further covering the Apprentice in fog. As he raised himself back up, his eyes scanned the Great Hall in search of one student, and as soon as he spotted the little squirrel, he broke into a coy grin and sent a knowing wink in the girl's direction.
The clapping from the Gryffindor contingent was suddenly mixed in with squeals of delight, much to McGonagall's chagrin.
Dumbledore gave the lad a knowing look, before he turned back to the Hogwarts populace to end the short notice. "That is it for this morning's announcements, so please enjoy breakfast and do not be late for classes!"
Hermione Granger had wanted to melt into a puddle then and there.
It had taken a while after she had taken a seat on the Gryffindor's table before she had noticed the buzz in the Great Hall's atmosphere. Well, it wasn't her fault that she remembered Professor Snape saying he would be giving a test after the Halloween feast, and that her priority then was her Potions book. It had been a rough night, what with the troll incident and her conflict about staying in Hogwarts, but she had somehow found herself getting through it. A swell of pride came into her at the thought that she was being a little more mature about the hardships she was experiencing, and that the sound advice she had received from Julius was definitely just that—sound.
The albino was literally deus ex machina that night. She was every ounce thankful for having been rescued, and to boot, that was the first ever time she could recall a boy had not taken to bullying or teasing her (well, there was Neville, but she didn't get to talk much with the rather shy lad). He had given her thoughts to think on, and made her see just what it took for her to be sorted into Gryffindor. Stalwartness, bravery—yes, she was also every bit as brainy, but she could now begin to see that there was more to her, and she would definitely start showing just what it was.
If only that "more" was present the moment she'd turn to the faculty table; there, beside Professor Snape, was Julius, eating and chatting a bit merrily with the usually taciturn man.
The announcement Dumbledore gave was every bit curiosity-catching, but what had turned her insides to goop and her brain to mush was when the albino chose to look at her amidst the applause, and send a smile and a wink in her direction.
Dear Merlin, it did things to her that she'd never experienced before. Boys never looked at her that way before. Ever.
Emotion bubbled and simmered within her, and redness that crept up her neck and cheeks was heat far too much for comfort. A far cry he might have been from the image of a Mr. Darcy who Hermione had in mind for a husband, there was something to the albino teen that just screamed "book fantasy."
"Oh Merlin, he winked this way didn't he? Tell me he winked this way!"
A stab of annoyance got through her, fanned by the squealing from right behind. Honestly, perhaps they ought to show a little more tact! Then again, this was Gryffindor, and the people here were much more in tune with their emotions that any other House (perhaps Hufflepuff could challenge them to that?). Finally getting her wits back around her, and with breakfast out of the way, she stood and began to walk with the few who were already headed for class, ready for another day at Hogwarts.
She briefly wondered if she would be encountering the Apprentice later that day.
"What do you think, Daphne?"
Daphne Greengrass tore her attention from Magical Drafts and Potions to face Tracey Davis, seemingly quite more eager than her usual self. Much as Daphne disliked participating in gossip among the other students, it did her well that listening in part to some of the speculations and rumors gave her an idea to the workings of the student body—after all, what was a Slytherin student without the thirst for information?
It had been quite the amusing morning, the Greengrass heiress found, with the inclusion of a teen who looked older than them by only a few years into the Hogwarts faculty. Sure, the Headmaster had said he was only to be an assistant or aide of sorts, but that left much speculation as to other things, such as tasks, responsibilities, and, most importantly, authority.
The way he had been able to associate himself with Professor Snape, where others would typically embarrass themselves, was indeed commendable. For the short time she had spent under the man's tutelage, she found that he only showed respect where respect was deemed given. The Potions Master would display bouts of bias every now and then for Slytherin, but he was not so horribly subjective that he would not hand out deductions and punishments for his own House. And it made her quite curious as to the persona of Apprentice Julius; what was he capable of, or made of, even, that he was able to win over Severus Snape like that?
Then there was also last night's issue with the troll. Mountain trolls don't just barge into the castle like that—someone must've let the dumb oaf in. With the Apprentice's timing of arrival right after such an incident, and the weird arrangements that Hogwarts was holding since the start of the year, so many coincidences couldn't have been happening one after the other all out of convenience.
"I'm not entirely sure, Tracey. But," Daphne allowed her usual void expression to lighten a bit, and smiled at her friend, "he is an enigma worth watching for now."
"Ooh, I definitely get what you mean!"
Ah, she was glad Tracey was of the same opinion—for once.
"He looks quite fanciable, doesn't he?"
Ah, here was typical Tracey.
"… That's not… what I meant, Trace."
Tracey frowned at her when Daphne's palm met forehead. "Then, what did you mean?"
"Think Slytherin, Tracey—the morning after an incident, the guy appears out of thin air. Well, just too many coincidences for the year so far, I think, so maybe the Apprentice is worth watching out for."
Tracey regarded the blonde with a curious look. "That sounds like something Auror Moody would say, wouldn't you reckon so? Maybe you're just too paranoid, Daph."
A sigh came from Daphne. "Maybe, maybe not. Although with the betrothal contract to that git of all people…"
No, she had to control herself. This was not how her father had taught her to react. Her parents had no choice in the matter, after all. Dealing with Death Eaters who were part of the higher echelon of society was difficult enough for them—the neutral families—and with those especially who had positions in the Wizengamot. Threats could be made ever so easily, and evidence was but only a few galleons worth to be swept under the rug. Families that suddenly disappeared would not even be mentioned in the Prophet until someone got smart enough to notice, and that was with the Ministry's help on part with the feigned ignorance.
Wizarding politics was where the war was fought nowadays; words and charisma were ammunition within hearings and conferences, and factors like connections to other Pureblooded families were very much sought after, of course a priority above buying out the pockets of other officials. Trickery, scheming, and cunning were all too common now, and even the Head of the Wizengamot would surely be guilty of practicing them to a point.
A betrothal, in politics, was a messy affair, especially if it considered Debts among other things. And by that reason alone, she could understand the decisions her father had made, although she would never acknowledge the other end of the contract.
The Devil must've spoken, for she and Tracey were then approached by the self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince, accompanied by his pair of troll-like lackeys. It was a good thing, Daphne thought, that the other prominent families didn't so much as bother with the Malfoys. Lucius and his brood were the kind that were drunk from the lavishness they experienced, and took pride in having officials of the Ministry sniffing around the Malfoy pockets for galleons waiting to be handed out "charitably."
"Greengrass. I didn't see you greet me this morning—in fact," the blonde ponce sent a sneer Tracey's way, "it's quite offensive that you would prioritize this filth over someone like me. I expect an apology, here and now."
Daphne scowled. Truth of the matter was that no one wanted to give a crap about Malfoy's words in Slytherin—the boy was every bit of a coward, and if it weren't for the fact that his father held a position in the Board of Governors, Draco was mostly ignored or avoided altogether. It didn't help that such tactics were hard to perform when the ponce had the habit of running his mouth at the wrong place and time.
The boy infuriated her—the mere fact that she was being forced into marriage with a prat whose ego was inversely proportional to his brain capability made her stomach turn. And if there was one thing she hated most about Draco Malfoy, it was the fact that he was a bigoted freak who would not deign to give lesser breeds the time of the day.
And he crossed the line with Tracey.
"I will consider doing so, Draco," the way the name was said made the room colder, "if you would be kind enough to take back what you've said about Tracey." The Ice Queen persona took over, and she was sure the damned git flinched from mere eye contact.
Malfoy recovered, and took an even more haughty tone. "Why should I? Trash should be treated like trash, and things like this one deserved such a treatment. Apologize, Greengrass, and I might just consider calling Davis something… kinder."
Daphne saw red and began pulling out her wand, before she was stopped by Tracey and pushed down back into her seat.
"Daphne, stop. He's not worth it. Don't worry about me, okay?" A sad smile was all Tracey could give Daphne in appreciation for standing up to Malfoy, but Daphne's anger refused to abate with the tears Tracey was clearly holding back.
"Trace, I will not stand for this… this ponce slandering your name!" she hissed.
"What did you call me, Greengrass?!"
"You heard me! You are an arrogant, cowardly ponce!"
Draco then wasted no time at drawing out his wand, pointing it at Daphne with a hex at the ready. "Take that back, you bi—"
Malfoy had no time to cast or finish his sentence when he was suddenly dragged to the front of the classroom and then hung on the ceiling. The boy flailed around and shouted, Crabbe and Goyle looking at each other in panic and with clear confusion at what to do. The other students within the room eyed the spectacle with great curiosity and concern, not used to the sight of Slytherin pitted against Slytherin.
"That's enough out of you. Ten points from Slytherin for offensive language and attitude, and a further fifteen for an attempt to hex a classmate."
All eyes turned to the doorway, albino hair and green eyes meeting their sight. The teen's expression was as apathetic as it got, but the eyes—power swirled, like the calm before the storm. It was unnerving, and yet all too majestic at the same time. Apprentice Julius strode in, wand in hand and still pointing at the Malfoy scion, levitating the boy in place just above Crabbe and Goyle.
"W-who do you think y-you are, doing this to m-me?! When my fa—"
"Oh? And I thought you enjoyed being above others, lad. Well then, off to your chair."
A flick of the wand sent the Malfoy heir sailing across the room and into an empty seat at the back. Another wave, and before the boy could manage an attempt to hurl abuse, he was forcefully pushed down into the seat, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.
"Another ten points for indecorous attitude towards a faculty member—Apprentice I may be, the rules dictate that I shall be treated similar to your professors. I believe your seat plan says you stay there with Crabbe and Goyle. Now," he turned to the rest of class, ignoring the looks of surprise and hanging jaws from the ego beat down the Malfoy scion received and regarding the class with a brighter expression, "please take your seats."
Daphne's jaw was still slack as the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins scrambled into their seats, murmurs here and there but not too much of a noise. Once the class was settled in, Apprentice Julius gave his wand a twirl, and Malfoy was then released of his bindings.
"Mister… Malfoy. Multiple choice: A. You speak out of term again, and I send you out with a detention; B. You speak out of term again, and I Banish you into Professor Snape's office along with a memory from Miss…" Daphne found his eyes passing over her, probably checking her identity, "Greengrass; or C. You keep yourself quiet, and we proceed with class."
"…"
"I can't hear you, Mister Malfoy. You'll have to speak up."
"… The last one," Malfoy hissed between gritted teeth.
Apprentice Julius grinned, directing then his attention to the class. As the teen called roll, Tracey brought Daphne out of her musings with a nudge to the ribs.
"… Daph, you better now?"
"Erm, yes, I believe so. But…"
She had to admit, no professor has ever put Malfoy in his place in such a way—or, for that matter, in such speed and crude efficiency. The very act had seemed cruel, but who were they to question the decision of having the ponce be put on the other end of a wand?
Daphne gazed over the Apprentice, dumbstruck by the suddenness of events prior. A quick assessment of what had taken place had her shock kick in at the realization that Apprentice Julius had performed non-verbal magic then, and though what he had done were simple in nature, she was confident that such complex workings behind it had required sophistication, knowledge, and focus that took years to reach—even for older, more experienced wizards and witches.
If that was the case, then just who was this wizard?
She was brought out of her thoughts when the roll had ended with Zabini, and the albino teen proceeded to go through a personal introduction with an open grin on his face.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has had the pleasure of introducing me earlier—Apprentice Julius, at your service, boys and girls!" Julius did a small bow, earning him grins and chuckles here and there, and further lightening up the tense mood within the room. "Now, are any of you particularly familiar with the Apprenticeship Course?"
A crowd of confused looks met the Apprentice.
"I'll take that as a no—very well. The Course is one that is entered rarely by few, and allows the Course takers to graduate after five years of study, as compared to the standard seven years.
"The difference of the Apprenticeship is that those who do take it are required to develop their own field of magical specialty, or further an already existing branch of magic. As this necessitates research and experiments, the Apprentice is then to be put under the supervision of wizards and witches, like your professors, who can provide insight and knowledge to the Apprentice.
"Since I, as an Apprentice, am under the care of your dear school, and am considered as part of the faculty as per the dictation of the Apprenticeship Course's rules, I would also be spending time helping professors or standing in for them. As such, I will be doing my best to get to know you all; I am also allowed to take and give points, hand out due punishments, and give lectures and homework."
The students of the room groaned in resignation, and judging from when they chose to do it, Julius had to chuckle at how they found homework to be more menacing than punishments or detentions. Well, these were students, after all—he remembered his first Apprenticeship year, dreading homework just as well. "Are there any questions to what I've said so far?"
A hand shot out, and was then addressed by the Apprentice. "Yes, Mister… Finnigan?"
"You'll be handling Potions today, then?"
He answered with a nod. "And to clarify, no—I teach quite differently from Professor Snape, if you wanted to ask."
Sighs of relief escaped the students, clearly the fear of a second menace in the dungeon having been an unfounded one. Daphne doubted that the Apprentice was even capable of the Snape Method of Education.
"There would be no brewing today, everyone. Instead of that, the Headmaster and your Potions professor had both suggested that I discuss with you part of my Course Research, which is developing my own specialty in magic."
Daphne's eyes were caught by the Apprentice's wand, the tool slim and of a dark charcoal shade. A wave of it, and then pieces of chalk flew over by the board, scribbling text and sketching images.
"My Research encompasses the fields of Potions, Herbology, Astrology, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Wand Lore."
"But you've said earlier that you needed a supervisor for fields of study—who's to teach for Wand Lore? I do believe it isn't a subject of study here in Hogwarts." Daphne turned back to look at the middle of the room, eyes locking on the bushy-haired Gryffindor. She had to give Granger props for that—sharp observations as usual.
Had Granger not noticed it, she was confident that she too would have recognized such a point. Wand Lore was only ever discussed among Wandmakers, and was of interest mostly to them. But to say she was uninterested in it now would be quite the denial—it made her curious as to just what it was the Apprentice had for his Course Research.
"Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger." A pink tinge colored Granger's cheek when the Apprentice had regarded her. "Quite sharp, just as your Head of House has told me. To answer your question, I do have a supervisor, although our correspondence at the moment is quite restricted. But in the near future, I do believe Mr. Garrick Ollivander would be visiting Hogwarts quite often for study sessions with me."
"You mean, the same Mr. Ollivander who's made the wands we have?" Tracey asked from beside Daphne.
"The one and only, Miss… Davis. Now, to get back on topic—the exact specialty I wish to develop is a modernized version of Druid Magic, which is one of the Old Magics from where our own has been rooted for much of history.
"Druid Magic draws much from nature, making use of its natural bounty and utilizes the energy that is ever present all around. It is communing with plants, trees, and greenery; with animals and magical creatures. It is also especially affected by passing seasons, the appearing constellations, and the lunar cycles.
"For what reason to develop this modernized version? I believe that a return to one of the oldest, if not the oldest, roots of our magic is what will allow us to create a deeper understanding of the possibilities held by what we practice today. Young as you may be, you must deign to ask yourselves: where does it come from? What can you do with it? What are its limits? What are the relations of the many branches of magic we have?"
Daphne was in awe. She gazed all around, and found that much of the present students were also well intrigued with the current line of discussion. As convoluted as the topic sounded, it tugged at the more curious parts of the first-years' brains, for the first time making them much more interested at just what magic truly was. It was to be a part of their lives for the many years to come, surely it would make them appreciate magic's existence more.
Apart from the discussion itself, there was something contagious to the Apprentice's enthusiasm for what he was studying on. The enthusiasm leaked from his voice, his focus, and it drew in the students, even those who were expected to be ever-so detached from academics, to actually try and use their brains and wrack it.
"Now, we'll be going through a simple discussion of Potions, and Herbology but with lesser detail, in relation to Druid Magic. Now, I'd like a few of you to tell me some of the brews you know."
"Draught of the Living Dead, sir," a plump boy of Gryffindor answered.
"Thank you, Mister Longbottom. Two points for that. Yes, Mister Zabini?"
"Um, Pepper-Up Potions." He nodded at Zabini, giving two points as well to Slytherin.
"Love Potions, sir." A hearty laugh erupted from the class courtesy of Ron Weasley.
"Ah, yes, a more infamous one, Thank you, Mister Weasley. Take two points as well. Now," Julius strode forward to the board, gesturing to one of the more prominently written lines, "Potions, to describe it in the simplest way possible, is the art of mixing ingredients for the purpose of creating a brew designed for a specific use—may it be to put you to sleep, to energize you, or to make you head over heels a warty witch, to name a few." Good-natured chuckling came from the students, especially the boys, and more and more of them were drawn to the lesson given by the Apprentice.
"By virtue of the Druids, Potions in its roots only had two real purposes." Julius' fingers trailed over the written words on the board, eyeing the students as they read the very short phrase referred to.
"Curing and afflicting?"
"Yes, Miss Greengrass," the blonde was surprised, not realizing her whispering was loud enough to have been heard, "curing and afflicting. Most of the ingredients druids would have for potions were from naturally growing herbs, plants, fungi, and such. These were readily available from within the forests they lived in, and had multitudes of different uses. Even individual ingredients could be used as it was, and there always were only two kinds of uses—to cure someone, or to afflict someone.
"Curing was not only limited to diseases—to some degree, even it was construed in such ways like 'how do we cure lying?' and so gave birth to the Veritaserum; or 'how do we cure dislike?' which may have been what brought the Love Potion.
"And if there existed ingredients which took danger away, then conversely there were those which brought trouble with it. Deadly plants and ingredients alike could cause various ailments, or worse even—death. Since such a fact could not be denied, then came along soon enough the creation of brews that were designed to amplify or mimic the effects of some natural vegetation. Mind you, that the early uses of some of these potions were documented as methods upon one individual only wished misfortune upon the other—well, that's still very similar to nowadays, to some degree."
Daphne was impressed—this level of teaching was of course very far from those of the regular faculty, but the insight displayed by the Apprentice blurred the lines that served as a way of comparison between his and the more professional's ability in educating. He was able to take what could have been extremely confounding and complicated points of study and strip it down to bare essentials and basic facts that would allow young ones such as their batch to connect it with the more basic lessons they had. Suddenly, Potions sounded much more interesting.
Add to that his command of attention and his handling of Malfoy, and it made him an enigma worth studying to the Greengrass heir.
"That had to be the most interesting Potions lecture I have come across so far."
Daphne found herself agreeing with Tracey's evaluation of the earlier session, actually having enjoyed a lecture that was hinged on theory.
"The guy knew his stuff, clearly. Now, if he could replace Professor Binns, that would be a great favor." Blaise Zabini added his two knuts in, earning a chuckle or two from the nearby first year snakes.
A snooty reply came from further down the line, a reply which none of them were surprised as having come from Draco Malfoy. "I don't buy it. Druid Magic? Old Magic? What difference does it make? It's all the same—it's all just magic, in the end. Besides, druids have nothing on the wizards we will be in the future. When father learns of the idiot and his trash ambitions, I'm sure we'll have one less idiot to deal with here in Hogwarts."
"Knowing you, Malfoy, you probably didn't even understand half of what Apprentice Julius was discussing—admit it, you probably had fried your brain!" Snickers were drawn out from Tracey's remark, earning her a scowl from the blonde-haired boy.
Daphne decided to jump in the boat, if it meant making herself feeling better from earlier's run-in with the ponce. "That's awfully too kind of you Daphne—half? I don't think he even learned a quarter from that lesson. I'm confident Crabbe and Goyle learned more altogether than what knowledge Malfoy could glean from Potions today."
Full-blown laughter exploded in the corridor from the male contingent of the first years, resulting in a very red Malfoy who was practically shaking in anger. Gryffindor and Slytherin boys alike were having too much fun at the expense of the ponce, and clearly spoke for the reputation Malfoy held. Despite the fact that the Gryffs were still confused as to the internal strife from within Slytherin, they made it clear that they all found a common enemy in the form of one Draco Malfoy.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be mouthing off like that to me, Greengrass? Perhaps you need to be reminded of just where your place is!"
"And that definitely is not by yours, Malfoy," hissed Tracey, glaring at the Malfoy heir. "Just so you know."
"That does it!" Malfoy's wand was out faster than the rest could have reacted further, and the blonde was already ready to fire off a spell in Tracey and Daphne's direction, "Furnunculus!"
The way they had been positioned alerted Daphne that it would be Tracey on the receiving end of the spell, and had led to a split-second decision to push her friend out of harm's way. The blonde girl fell to the ground, the break-out of boils already starting on her unblemished skin.
Seeing the results, Malfoy had already begun backing away with a sneer and turned to run down the corridor, only for his escape to be impeded upon.
"Levicorpus."
The Malfoy heir shouted in surprise as he was forcefully lifted into the air feet-first, dangling upside down from where he was stopped by Julius' spell.
"I believe you will be escorting me down to Professor Snape's office, Mister Malfoy. Miss Davis, Mister Zabini," he eyed the two who were kneeling beside the groaning Daphne, "please see to Miss Greengrass and bring her to Madam Pomfrey for treatment. As for the rest of you," the rest of the students who had crowded around the spectacle jumped in surprise as they were addressed, "please hurry down to the Great Hall, and do report what has happened to a Slytherin prefect. Corroborate the story please, and no embellishment or twisting of the facts—unless you would have me offering detentions?"
The rest of the students nodded vigorously and briskly walked past, filing out of the corridor in a hurry towards the Great Hall's direction. Julius then looked to Daphne, eyeing the witch with genuine concern.
"Do hurry to the Hospital Wing, I'll be along shortly."