Translated Author's Note: Hello hello! Today I come with the third chapter of 'Professor Campbell'! In the end, I am posting it [the day it was posted]. I've been very busy as I've said last chapter. I'll say it now so no one asks: I'll be posting one chapter every week, on Saturday/Sunday. Can be from very early Saturday to very late Sunday. If it's not posted during these days it's because I'm either sick or very busy (or the translator is, in this case), and then the chapter will come on Wednesday.
Translator's Note: Sorry, this one's a bit late. My bad.
Professor Campbell {Chapter Three}
A mesmerizing, round wrist gesture, always followed by another, without ever stopping, making a beautiful decorated wand spin between the graceful, thin fingers of a pianist. Nothing too surprising, for they are Neah's, the Musician. He is, in fact, quite bored. In a few minutes, his next class will begin, so he does whatever he can to keep himself busy. Timcampy flies endlessly around him, so much that anyone gazing too long would find themselves feeling dizzy.
The Fourteenth has to admit that his wand is useless, except for the fact that he can spin it in his hands when he is deeply bored. He became a master in wandless magic, a talent acquired in his oh-so-long lifetime.
A few minutes later, the teenagers of his class enter the room, finding their teacher fiddling with a wand they had never seen before. It looks quite odd, with engraved symbols and decorations all around it. As odd as their teacher, they think. Said teacher quickly tucks his wand away and picks up the essays on the subject of the Deathly Hallows.
On the essays, the same ideas are written. Over and over, so much that it is quite obvious that only one or two students actually did their homework. One of the curious students asks his professor if the Deathly Hallows exist. Why would he have asked them to write about the items if they had not, as every single one of them had heard the tale before?
"The Deathly Hallows do exist, that's a fact." Neah states. "Always assume that everything exists. With magic, you never know. On my part, I don't think I'd want any of the three. They are... Only items, after all. Relics. Imagine that we make you face that dilemma: The power to hide for eternity, and the power to toy with Life and Death. None of this are made to be used, but humans are like that. Self-centred and ready to do anything for the sake of the 'Greater good'." Neah almost spits, with uncontained disgust that everyone notices.
For a split second, their teacher is scary, as if it was an entirely different person. And as if nothing happened, he just goes and puts the pile of essays on his desk. He can say a lot about a simple child's tale. Hermione, hyper-aware as she always is, notices that their teacher seems to be on edge, enough that a slight drop of blood runs from his tightly closed fists. Something must be keeping his mind busy...
Once that is done, Neah asks his student to follow him to the Quidditch field for their first combat lesson.
On his request, they all take off their robe. Neah was reassured to learn that a shirt, coat and pants were requested on the Hogwarts uniform.
"Today, I will simply test you all and see how you fare in a simple fight, and then dispatch you in three groups. Simple, isn't it? You'll fight the best you can against me. I will, of course, not tell you my criteria." He adds, seeing Hermione raising her hand. "It would be too easy."
For the whole class time, Neah sees numerous attempts, all funnier than the last. Wizards are obviously not used to hand-to-hand fighting. They all think that sheer power is enough to be the best. And of course, the best ones are currently muggleborn students. All of them have the pleasure to learn that they cannot beat their teacher, at least not without magic. The shortest fight had lasted mere seconds, and the longest a little under three minutes. They wonder how their teacher can even dispatch them in groups, but he does it anyway. He writes everything with a pen, on normal, muggle paper.
"Hermione Granger." He calls.
The teenage girl walks closer, and when the teacher tells her to begin, she first attempts to tackle him, and fails. Neah strikes back, and she dodges more or less. But the next second, she finds that she has fallen.
"Not too bad." He comments.
"I only stayed up a few seconds..." She mutters.
"Oh, the opposite would've surprised me. Nothing beats real-life experience."
Real-life experience? Had their teacher been fighting or something?
Gryffindor students do not hide their laughter when Draco Malfoy, prideful teenager that he is, ends up down on his back, wailing painfully. He fell at the first strike – that he had launched.
"You're too hopeful." Neah states, helping the teenage boy up. "You thought you'd get me in one attack, so you didn't think about the rest. Always assume that the fight isn't won until your foe is down. And even then, always be on your guard."
"That's stupid." The blonde boy answers.
"Are you a wizard, yes or no? Magic can make a corpse move, give it consciousness and awareness and even bring people back from death. And even though it is dark magic and no one uses it, you never know. True destruction is the only solution."
When Harry's turn comes, he surprises a few people by striking when the teacher is writing down his notes. He doesn't manage to startle the professor, though, but earns a stare full of mischief. The fight lasts about a minute, which is already decent. The professor ends up pining the Boy-Who-Lived to the ground, his arm bent in an awkward angle.
"Well done!" Says the Noah. "I didn't expect a low blow like that."
"I didn't surprise you..."
"Oh you did, pleasantly so! I should've expected so from James' son. And as I said, nothing beats real-life experience!"
The Fourteenth lets go of the teenager, and about twenty minutes later comes the end of the class. All students leave, and Neah ponders, talking to Timcampy.
"There's some good things in this generation, Tim. A lot of potential... I'll sort them with that. With the coming war, they have to get prepared, learn how to fight... I suppose a world without the horrors of war isn't ever going to happen." He looks at the sky. "I don't know if I'll hold on much longer, Mana, Allen..."
The first month passes by, and most student already seem to hate Umbridge, the 'second' Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, who already became High Inquisitor in the meantime.
October follows, with Dumbledore's Army created in the greatest secrecy. Neah enjoys watching the small revolution's formation, while no one else notices.
"Umbridge will get some nasty surprises, when she'll learn about them." He says, enjoying a warm tea in Dumbledore's office.
"Most likely." Dumbledore states, his gaze shining.
"...You don't care." States the Noah, unsurprised. "I'll kindly remind you, Albus, that they call themselves 'Dumbledore's Army.' If the Ministry learns about it, you'll be in trouble."
"I suppose that is true. I've also heard that Umbridge has not been in your classes yet, Neah?"
"And you're surprised? The Ministry's funny. They decided not to get close to anything about me. If Harry officially became my pupil, he'd probably finally be at peace."
"I have already told you that, Neah. So long as he sees the Dursley's house as his home, he will be protected from Voldemort by his mother's sacrifice."
"He'd be even safer with me. I'm immortal, remember? And even you don't know where I really live. Something I'm quite proud of."
"Do not forget that Voldemort can see through Harry's eyes. Or... At least when he'll be aware he can, he will. You would put yourself in danger."
"As if! I can teach the boy occlumency, and even make him a Legilimens if I feel like it. You could at least stop avoiding him, it annoys him. It's not as if he had the flu..."
"The flu?" Asks Dumbledore.
"Contagious muggle illness."
"I see. Are you attached to the boy? Such a rare sight."
"He reminds me of James, who also reminded me of someone. Sirius and Remus, too..."
"They are substitutes."
"So what?" Grumbles Neah. "I've already told you, I hate those festering, corrupted, weak humans. I'm much less cruel with people like them. If Harry reminds me of someone, good for him. He'll get out of this school safe, and everyone'll be happy."
"I then suppose I remind you of someone, too?" Asks a thoughtful Dumbledore.
Suddenly, Neah's amber eyes shine in an ominous light.
"Oh, yes you do, Albus. You remind me of the single person I hate most after humans, the one who has, and still does, ruin my life. Nothing to be proud of. Whenever I see you, I want to slaughter you in the most painful way possible, and let you agonize for as long as physically possible. And you know how I keep myself from doing all these things?" Neah cracks into laughter, an inhuman grin spreading on his face. "I remind myself that this person still exists. It's still alive, waiting and waiting for me to forget it for a second to go on a rampage and destroy everything. Fun, eh? Makes me laugh to death whenever I think about it."
On these words, Neah breaks eye contact and darts out, closing the door with a loud clap.
Comes November, Hogwarts seems to wake up.
It begins with the strange bond of friendship between the Weasley twins and Professor . Their meeting, although Neah had taught them in class beforehand, had been a simple story.
Neah is wandering through the halls, late in the night, Timcampy hovering at his side. He is not bothered by the darkness, and never has been. He does not even need to cast a Lumos, for his nature as a Noah allows him to peer through the shadows, which not many people had known. He finds it very useful for multiple reasons. He also finds it funny, because his amber eyes shone through the dark, often scaring people – mostly students that shouldn't be out of their dormitories.
From afar, he hears footsteps, which he recognizes as the Weasley twins' synced walk. He is wondering what they could possibly be preparing at such a late hour. And so, he takes a different path, so that he arrives on front of them.
"You're aware that you're not allowed to be out so late, right?"
"Fred wasn't feeling well..." One immediately begins
"So George accompanied me to the infirmary..." The other continues
"But it was closed." Concluded the first.
Neah pinches his nose in such a way that they understand he sees through their lies, and thanks to Wisely's powers he reads through their thoughts. These two were preparing a prank against Umbridge.
"… If you want to prank Dolores, steal her wand and hide it whoever-knows-where. Might as well wreck up her office, too." He says, and the twins' eyes light up. "The Marauders were far more imaginative..." He sighs in a fake manner.
The next day, the Golden Trio is surprised to see their Defence teacher standing by the twins, with one terrifying smile on his face. Full of curiosity, they walk close, only to hear that their teacher is giving pranks ideas to the two Weasleys. To prank his own colleague.
"… Leg-locker is a classical one, but still works just great. Make it so that it's hard to counter, though. Some runs or even ancient magic, although you'll... Probably have trouble with the latter."
"That's a great idea!"
"How did we not think about it?"
"The best ideas are often the easiest, you know... Just need to change some details."
"Which runes..."
"...Or spells..."
"…Should we use..."
"...Professor?"
"Hm..." Neah takes a pen, and his grin expands. "This rune-" He says, designing one on the spot "Should allow you to make a spell last for a limited amount of time, but the spell will not fade until the time has passed. As for ancient magic..."
Harry, Ron and Hermione give each other sceptical looks. Is their teacher really giving prank tips to the twins? Although perhaps they should not be so surprised, considering they are preparing it all with Umbridge as victim.
"Oh, if it isn't Harry, Ron and Hermione." Says Neah cheerfully.
"Professor, what are you doing here?"
"You see, these young people here" He points the twins "were knowledge-hungry. I can't refuse if a student asks me for help."
"You're using them to prank Umbridge." States Harry.
"If it was only them!" Scoffs Neah.
"What do you mean?" Wonders Ron, interested.
"Oh, you'll see later."
He smiles and walks away without more explanations.
"Is everyone here? Okay? Great. Now, before we begin, let me ask you all something. Would you all be interested in winning more points for your respective houses? Anyone interested?"
The chorus of 'Yes!' Is a sufficient answer.
"It's a game with one easy rule: You'll have to trick Umbridge." Immediately, whispers are heard. "And no, this is not a joke. I'll explain how it'll work."
Neah begins writing on a chalkboard.
"First, points for method. Potions, magic, runes, ancient magic and all sorts of items are allowed. The more complicated, the more points you earn. Although you'll lose points if anyone other than Umbridge ends up a victim. Another set of points for Umbridge's reaction, in three categories: she ignores it, she's annoyed or straight up furious. Finally, not getting caught will bring you a lot of points and getting caught will remove points depending on the scale of the punishment. No use cheating or reporting a prank to me, I'll already know. If you need some help with it, come see me. Any questions? Yes, Hermione?"
"Are we forced to participate?"
"Not at all, but it's worth it. Always winner. Yes, Theodore?"
"Are you doing this because you hate Professor Umbridge?"
"Absolutely right! Is that it? Very well. Good luck, and most importantly, have fun!"
A week later and the points have already grown exponentially. Umbridge has seen everything: enhanced leg-locker, her skin becoming every colour of the rainbow, and her personal items disappearing for unknown durations of time.
"What are you doing with this paint spray, Mr. Milford?" Asks Professor Sprout, gravely.
Sprout walks closer to the poor student and says, very softly:
"Professor Umbridge will only be here in a few minutes."
"Thanks, Professor!" He answers with a smile.
At least everyone agrees about this little game. Most teachers do not say anything, sometimes even helping the students.
"This game is a terrible idea, Neah." Minerva McGonagall once stated at the teachers' table in the Great Hall.
"Really? I find it fascinating!" He answers. "I never had so much fun in my life. And don't try to hide it, I know you enjoy it too, ignoring so many students. Gryffindor went straight back up thanks to the Wealsey twins. Who could've known?" He scoffs.
Later, Neah was walking through the halls toward his office, when a voice calls:
"Professor Campbell!"
"What is it, Ron?" He asks, turning around.
"Do you know a rune that could maintain something in the air?"
"Yes, yes I do. Here, I'll show you." He says, taking out a notepad and a pen.
But the current 'quiet' could only last so long, for Harry Potter ended up removed from Gryffindor's Quidditch team for arguing with Draco Malfoy, accusing the Slytherin boy of having made his comrades sing an unpleasant song about Ron during a quidditch match.
That very evening, the boy found himself in his Defence teacher's office, with a warm cup of tea.
"Forbidden from playing Quidditch for life... She can only decide for as long as we're in Hogwarts! I hate her."
"Well, at least you'll only have to bear with her presence for one year." The teacher states.
"What makes you think so, Professor?"
"Well... You probably already know the seat is cursed. Quirrell, Lockhart, Moony, the fake Moody... It's also my case, I suppose. But I don't care, because I'm only here to kill time and because Dumbledore asked me."
"How long have you known Professor Dumbledore?" Asks Harry, curious.
"A bit more than sixty years, now. I met him during all these events with Grindelwald."
"Right, you're more than a hundred years old..." Harry reminds himself.
"Closer to one hundred and fifty than a hundred, you know..."
"You're lucky to be able to live so long without ageing." States the Boy-who lived.
"You think so?" Neah answers bitterly. "It's more of a burden... No matter what I do, I'll keep on living. I became immortal in exchange of an unbearable curse, which threatens to consume me. I've seen mankind tear itself apart through war, and all sorts of horrors from people defending their ideals. People becoming monsters to change things... It's terrifying, isn't it, Harry?"
The teacher's eyes fill with a strange sadness.
He can't help but think of all those who died during the Holy War. His own brother Mana, drowned by the seven thousand years old memory of the Earl, his nephew Allen, forced in a war that he didn't understand, but still hurt him so much...
"I'm sorry." Harry apologizes, not knowing why.
"Oh, don't worry about it. You weren't even born back then. Nor were your parents, or your grand-parents. You remind me of someone, Harry. Just like your father did."
"Really? Who do I remind you of?"
"My nephew. His name was Allen. Remember? I told you about him."
"The one that was unbeatable at card games?"
Neah nods.
"What kind of person was he?"
"Oh, I didn't know him for long, and he hated me for most of that time. And after that, we couldn't catch up on lost time..." He closes his eyes for a moment and opens them again. "Allen was so sweet and kind-hearted. Always smiling, and ready to do anything for his friends. Even after facing death, he just kept going forward. He was the best cheater at Poker I ever met, and he hated talking about his Master's debts more than anything. But... He was a very sad kid. His parents rejected him at birth, the man who adopted him died and cursed him when he was just ten, and spent five years working like a slave with his master. He was pulled into a war he didn't understand, all that to die at the age of seventeen. You know, that's why you remind me of him. Your lives have never been easy..."
"You loved your nephew."
Neah pulls open a drawer, taking a muggle picture out, made yellow by the passing time. On it, multiple people, all wearing the same dark uniform, with a cross where the heart is.
Four teenagers.
The first, furthest on the left, keeps away from the rest and looks annoyed. He has long, dark hair pulled in a ponytail, and in his hand an impressive Japanese sword.
The second one, closer to the middle, is smiling happily. His red hair – redder than any Weasley – is held back by a bandana. His right eye is hidden. For some reason, he is holding a hammer.
The third one is a young woman, with hair at shoulder length, seemingly happy. She also wears the uniform, with the slight difference of a very short skirt and thigh-high boots.
And the last one, standing oh-so-slightly apart from the others, is different. He has blatantly white hair, and an impressive tattoo – or at least Harry hopes it is one – going from his forehead through his left eye. His expression is both soft and accepting. He only has one arm, although the presence of both sleeves indicates that he should have two. In his hand, a decorated, great sword.
Finally, far to the right, a person Harry had not noticed. An adult, with braided blonde hair, wearing almost casual clothes for the time the picture was taken. What was he doing here?
Harry admires the picture a bit longer. These people do not look like they're from the same world! He turns the picture around, the back scribbled by writings, a bit clumsy and with some language mistakes.
.
November 15th 1885, England.
Death count: 13 (5 finders)
Akuma count: 13 lvl2 7 lvl3
Exorcists (Left to right): Kanda Yuu, Lavi, Lenalee Lee, Allen Walker
Other: Howard Link, inspector in charge of Allen Walker.
.
Neah takes the picture back.
"That picture was taken by Tim, one year before Allen's death. It was during one of their missions, and Allen really wanted to take a picture because it was rare for them to be together."
"They're happy." Harry says.
"No, no they aren't. That man, far to the right, was tasked of keeping an eye on Allen all the time. Poor boy was suspected of heresy. Kanda was keeping an eye on him, ready to slice his throat at any wrong movement. And you see Lenalee? She's a bit tense. No, their joy was nothing but a façade. In the end, Lavi seems to be the most honest. Or was he? I never know, and that boy wore so many masks he didn't even know who he was himself."
He proceeds to put the picture back in the drawer.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you something. Hagrid is back in Hogwarts. Should be in his shack. I think Ron and Hermione went to see him as soon as they learned he was back."
"Oh, thank you."
"But it's getting late, so you should go back to your dormitory."
Once anew, the teacher takes his student back to the painting of the Fat Lady, leaving with a greeting.
And today, Harry learned more about his mysterious professor. He doesn't know if he should repeat anything to his friends.
And what's this about exorcists and akumas?