"There was a thunder inside of my heart
There was a wonderful pleasure"
From American Money by Børns.
Eleanor could still smell trophy polish on her hands when she left Hogwarts in June. Throughout the summer break, while lying in bed, the warm air almost unbearably humid, she would catch whiffs of it, as if the scent had seeped into her pores, quite like the memory.
Summer went quickly for Eleanor, despite the fact her father spent the majority of it trying to avoid her presence. He was quite successful, considering the extension of his month long sojourn to Japan lasted nearly the entire break. It was a coping mechanism, Dorcas said, though Narcissa added it was a weak one. Even when he returned, just days before she left, it was simply to confirm she'd purchased the required books and understood the expectations for her 'O'. While he took her to Kings Cross, he deposited her at Platform 9 ¾, kissed her cheeks, and departed before she had even wheeled her cart through the barrier.
Unlike every previous year, Eleanor was entirely unprepared for how quickly time could pass when every waking moment was spent in the library. September blended with October which quickly became November and it seemed she wasn't a single day closer to successfully passing her exams. Every morning and evening was spent huddled over a lantern in the Library attempting to memorize historical dates and spells. As the professors seemed intent on giving them extra classwork this year, Eleanor's hand was starting to form calluses from holding a quill too tightly. Yet all her efforts weren't enough, at least not for every class.
Eleanor Fairfax needed a Defense Against the Dark Arts tutor.
Or so Professor Bastian informed her during an excruciatingly awkward meeting that included Slughorn nodding in the corner of his office. Apparently her essays were more than adequate to reach N.E.W.T level, however, her practical application of the defensive spells would only gain her an "Exceeds Expectations" at best. Despite her insistence that becoming a Healer shouldn't necessitate an 'Outstanding' or above in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Eleanor knew the likelihood of successfully petitioning her opinion was slim to none. So she simply accepted her fate, tried to be grateful for the added attention, and agreed to a tutor.
That was until they actually identified her tutor as Rabastan Lestrange.
Eleanor's first response was to laugh. She glanced around the room, trying to determine if this was an odd dream and she'd be woken up by Narcissa's morning routine soon. When pinching herself resulted in a rather clear bruise and Slughorn began looking as if she may need a mental exam in the Hospital Wing, it dawned on her that they were seriously suggesting Rabastan as her tutor. A slew of potential excuses popped into her mind, followed by a variety of reasons why he was a terrible choice, only to be wiped away the minute Slughorn told her Rabastan had already agreed. At that point, unable to truly put together a coherent sentence why this was absolutely inconceivable, Eleanor had no other choice but to nod her head and agree to meet him.
Half in a daze, it was a miracle she made it to the Great Hall without any mishaps. Sliding onto the bench beside Dorcas, who sat across from Narcissa, she stared down at the plate numbly as it filled with food.
"What's up?" Dorcas asked with a half-full mouth.
"Manners," Cissa said to her. "You look as if you've seen a ghost, Ellie."
"I need a Defense Against the Dark Arts Tutor," Eleanor said sullenly, stabbing a piece of beef and studying it without any appetite.
"Bummer, though I guess there are worse subjects," Dorcas said with a shrug. "How're you going to find one?"
"Slughorn already did."
"Who is it?"
Eleanor paused and considered trying to lie. Perhaps she could claim it was a Hufflepuff, even a Gryffindor, and they would stop questioning her. The truth would get out eventually, though - it always did at Hogwarts - so she bit down on her lip and groaned. "Rabastan Lestrange."
"Excuse me?" Narcissa said, suddenly perking up at the conversation.
"Oh-Ho!" Dorcas practically shouted, eyebrows shooting up to her hair-line while her utensils clattered to the table. "You're lying, or if you're not, that's possibly the most ironic thing I've ever heard."
"I'm not quite sure ironic is the word I'd use," Eleanor said, finally taking a bite of the meat.
"Rabastan Lestrange?" Narcissa questioned, her mind clearly having difficulty comprehending the conversation.
"Yes, that's what she said, Rabastan Lestrange. Come off it Cissa, you can't possibly be jealous about this. He's going to tutor her," Dorcas said, face incredulous, voice a bit harsh.
"I'm not jealous," Narcissa tried to say, but her voice squeaked slightly on the second syllable making it quite clear she was. It was no secret to Dorcas or Eleanor that Narcissa was quite fond of the younger Lestrange. There had been a time when both Lestrange brothers were the apple of her eye, though with the impending engagement announcement between Bellatrix, her eldest sister, and Rodolphus, it seemed she'd finally given up all hope for the elder. Rabastan, though, was still quite available. Eleanor knew precisely where Narcissa's imagination was: private tutoring, empty classrooms, subtle flirting over a successful countercurse, and before long she was envisioning Eleanor sprawled over a desk while Rabastan undressed her.
"There is absolutely nothing to be jealous about, Cissa. Honestly, he's the last person I want to be tutoring me. How bloody embarrassing. I can't believe Slughorn went to him and said I needed help for my O. . He must think I'm an idiot," Eleanor said, putting the fork down and giving up all hope of eating.
"I doubt he thinks you're an idiot. Clearly he agreed to it. He could have just laughed and held it over your head for the next two years," Dorcas said while stealing Eleanor's untouched potatoes and sliding them over to her own plate.
"He still knows, though. I don't like anyone thinking I'm incapable. I'm not incapable. It's just not my best course. I still can't believe it's a requirement for a Healer to take a N.E.W.T level. What do they expect, I'll be counter-cursing things as I heal?"
"It's probably so you can identify dark magic," Dorcas said.
"That's not the point," Eleanor practically shouted, knowing full well her argument for why she didn't need Defense Against the Dark Arts was illogical.
"It'll be fine, Ellie. Just take a deep breath. At least you're getting help. Half the students out there won't get an 'O' and I bet you Bastian and Slughorn could careless, they clearly want you to succeed. So pick and choose your battles. Might be Rabastan, but I heard he received the best scores in Slytherin last year. Couldn't ask for a better teacher." Eleanor signed, but nodded slowly. At least her professors seemed to care whether she passed her exams or not.
"I still can't believe Rabastan Lestrange agreed to tutor you," Narcissa said, after a long pause in which Eleanor believed the conversation to have ended.
"Well, believe it. Though, whatever fantasy you've cooked up in that mind of yours, go ahead and erase it. This is not some convoluted attempt to get into his pants. Besides, isn't he dating Alecto?" Eleanor asked rhetorically, not very interested in trying to appease Narcissa's jealousy. Her friend simply sniffed at the mention of their other female classmate, glanced down the table to where she sat, and went silent. Eleanor let the silence linger and was eventually the first to get up and head back to the library.
Her first session with Rabastan was scheduled for the next Wednesday. Professor Bastian was letting them use his empty classroom, which was dark and rather eerie when Eleanor arrived. Only a single lantern was lit and it cast elongated shadows across the walls. With a flick of her wrist, Eleanor lit the other lanterns in the room and moved to the front, depositing her bag on the first desk.
"Unfortunately, lighting a candle isn't included on the exam."
Eleanor turned to face the back corner, where Rabastan stood leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed casually. "How long have you been standing there?"
"The whole time."
"Why didn't you just say something?" He shrugged and she rolled her eyes, a bit perturbed at his insistence on terrifying her every time they spoke. The Astronomy Tower, the Trophy Room, now the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, it seemed he was entirely incapable of announcing his presence like an ordinary person.
"I just did."
"For merlin's sake," Eleanor mumbled to herself. "Do you hear yourself? Conceited arse." She whispered the last bit under her breath, though she saw him smirk across the classroom.
"Hear you're having some issues with Defense Against the Dark Arts. An intriguing issue considering your house," Rabastan said, moving away from the wall and sitting atop one of the desks in the last row. He looked rather young, Eleanor thought, with his legs hanging off the edge and his school uniform a bit askew.
"I didn't hear it was a prerequisite to be in Slytherin."
"Should be."
"Thanks for that, really, you're a great tutor so far. You've got the whole motivational bit down perfectly."
"I'm here to help you learn counterspells, not motivate you."
"Why did you agree to tutor me? I would have imagined I'm the last person you want to help."
"Do you want my help?"
Eleanor paused there, half tempted toward a snide remark that would undoubtedly lead to his quick departure. Swallowing what little pride she still had, Eleanor nodded her head. "Yes," though her voice was strained as she spoke through gritted teeth.
"Bastian says you're excellent on the analysis piece, it's the actual application of the spells you're struggling with? What about Charms, do you struggle there, too?"
"You know, you could tone down the judgment a bit. I'm not completely inept as a witch."
Rabastan seemed to sigh and nodded his head. "I'm simply trying to narrow down what might be causing the issue, so we don't waste time on something pointless."
"Fine, then no, I don't struggle in Charms. I actually have one of the highest grades in the class."
"I'm sure you do," he said with a slight roll of his own eyes. "Then it must be something to do with the curses themselves. I don't think there is much difference, personally, between charms and counterspells. You're not changing anything physically with the object and there is no malintent with either. So I wonder whether-"
"Then that doesn't explain why one I'm fine at while the other I'm not
"Can I finish talking?" He took her silence as acceptance continued. "I wonder whether you've ever actually tried to perform a curse. Not just silly jinxes, but a real curse."
"Perform a curse? As in borders-on-magic-that-is-forbidden-in-the-castle?"
"I prefer to think of it as a student-of-magic attempting to learn all facets of the subject."
"Think what you want, it's still forbidden. It's Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Perform the Dark Arts," Eleanor said, though she was trying not to appear as innocent and naive as she currently felt.
"Do you want to get your Outstanding?"
"Well yes, of course."
"What do you intend to do with it, I mean with the N.E.W.T classes. Not planning to be an Auror are you?" He asked with a grin.
"Of course not, I'm trying to become a healer. You know, the individual that's there to help the poor sods that get hit with curses."
"Ah, you would make a fine Healer."
"Will make a fine Healer."
"If only you'd take my advice and actually learn magic."
"I know magic."
"You know half of magic, the happy-unicorn side, but that's only a part of the equation, Eleanor," Rabastan said while walking toward her slowly, the surety in his movements a bit alarming. "I'm not saying you need to start performing the Unforgivables or risk expulsion by cursing a student, but you need to understand what you're defending if you're going to counter it."
"Other students seem perfectly capable of learning these spells without learning the actual curses."
"You are not the other students."
"Why not?"
"Now that, I can't answer for you. I'm simply offering a potential solution," he said, pausing his movements to stand in front of her. He was taller than she remembered, and his shoulders seemed broader at this distance. Earlier she'd observed his uniform was askew, now she realized his hair was also tousled and his cheeks seemed a bit flushed. She could feel the heat of his body radiating toward her, countering the cool breeze that was coming in from an open window. He leaned forward, lowering his face until it was almost at her height and smiled. "I want to help you."
"I don't understand why," Eleanor said, licking her lips before she could think better of the gesture. He watched her mouth, but his face showed no expression.
"You intrigue me," he said with a simple shrug, as if that one word explained everything. "The question that remains is whether you trust me."
"No, I don't."
"A wise choice," he said, grinning. "Are you going to let me help?"
Eleanor didn't dare say another word, as it was difficult enough to keep her eyes off his smile, but she nodded quickly.
"Wonderful. We'll begin next week, same time and place. Until then, I want you to research the most commonly used curses, but this time, not from the perspective of defending them. I want you to research what it takes to use them." For a second, it felt as if Rabastan would move closer to her, but then he pulled back and abruptly turned. In a few long strides, he was at the back tables grabbing his bag and heading straight to the door without a glance back. Even from behind him, though, Eleanor could tell he was still grinning.
