The next morning, Airmed did it all over again: got up before the crack of dawn, exercised for an hour (this time, she deigned not to use her vest in an attempt to take it easier on her injured body), washed off, and got ready for breakfast. She talked with the other girls, but she was working through the events of yesterday, trying to keep her composure in place without breaking down. She would not, could not, do that here: not in front of these strangers.

The one difference was that she brought Gwydion out to deliver a message to Aunt Morgana. They needed to talk about Umbridge's choice of punishment. This was recklessly injuring her, and for what? Wearing the wrong uniform? Professor Dumbledore had given her both a verbal and a written dispensation to wear pants, witnessed by her own headmaster. And why should that bother Umbridge? Did it distract from her learning? Or did she simply wish to be that controlling of her students?

She saw to it that Gwydion was curled up on top of Aunt Morgana's plate when she came into the Hall for breakfast. The members of the staff were scared off when they saw him hissing contentedly. Umbridge nearly drew her wand out to destroy him. Aunt Morgana, however, saw it and let the snake wrap around her hand before bringing it to her ear. Professor McGonagall looked around the crowd and nodded when she spotted Airmed sitting near the head of Gryffindor's table.

As one, they stood from their seats and headed up to McGonagall's office. With the door open, they looked like student and teacher, not as family. Professor McGonagall returned Gwydion to Airmed, who proceeded to gently curl around his mistress's arm until he wrapped around her neck. "I received your rather unorthodox message, Sir Wolfshead. Professor Babbling told me that he approves of you dropping Ancient Runes. How, may I ask, did that come about?"

"Professor, I attended the first class of Ancient Runes and listened to the lecture given in class. However, this is material that I have covered since childhood. I would only be a distraction to those who wish to learn. I ask that I be allowed to drop Ancient Runes in favor of a spare period in order to complete homework assignments and to further my self-studies." Airmed stood at ease in her uniform, clasping her hands behind her back.

"If that is what you would like to do, then I can arrange it." McGonagall folded her hands on top of her desk, staring at Airmed over the rims of her glasses. "Now, you mentioned something else in your message? A detention with Professor Umbridge?" Both of them noticed the dislike in the last word of that sentence.

"Yes." Airmed sighed softly. "I have detention with Professor Umbridge all week in the evenings. I don't ask that you talk to her about that, but merely about her choice of… punishment."

"And what punishment is that?" Airmed undid the buckles of her left vambrace and took it off. Placing it to the side, she unwrapped the bandages and placed her wounded hand on the desk for inspection. Minerva's face grew pale as she lifted her niece's hand to have a closer look at the marks. "Please tell me that these are not what I think they are."

"If you are thinking that these are the product of a Blood Quill, then I tell you that it is true." Airmed looked at her aunt with a hollow gaze. "She thought that I was trying to be a show-off when I told her my titles. She thought that I was lying." With a shaky breath, she tried to laugh unsuccessfully while sliding her vambraces back on. "Please inform Professor Dumbledore about this. Harry Potter and I will complete the rest of our detentions this week, and she will most likely use that on us again." She looked at the faded words on the back of her hand. "She accused me of never making my oath, Aunt." That was when she broke.

Minerva closed the doors and took her trembling niece in her arms, her own heart breaking at the same time. She felt the tears hit her shoulder as her last living niece held on for dear life as she burst into salty sobs. To any Knight of Mann that held true to their oath, being accused of breaking that oath was akin to assassinating one of their sovereigns. It was one of the worst crimes possible to commit: to do so, the offender would be labeled 'warlock' and 'traitor' and executed after being tortured, if indeed they were caught.

To those Knights that had made their oaths and had been sworn into the brotherhood of Knights by their king, to be accused of never making that oath was like telling them that their life's work was done for nothing, and that all that they had done in the past was worthless to a race that prided itself on getting things done. It was akin to psychological murder, particularly to the prideful nature of Manxmen. Airmed had come from a hard world, and she was still so young. She was far too young for such sorrows.

Airmed cried for a few minutes but it felt like hours, as the hard-built dam to her emotions broke free and spilled out for her aunt to witness. She did not belong here. She wanted to go home, where everything made sense. But she had her orders: she had to talk to Harry Potter, to help him find out about the truth.

By now, breakfast was over and they both could hear students in the halls coming to class. Minerva did a quick Drying Charm on them both, erasing all signs of Airmed's tears. The only sign that anything had been wrong was Airmed's red eye, but there was not much to be done about that. She simply sat in a desk near the front and watched as the students came in and sit around her.

"Welcome to Fifth-Year Transfiguration. Now, I expect all those taking the OWL in June to achieve at least 'Acceptable'. However, I only take those with 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher into my NEWT class. Today, we will review Animagus regulations before having a demonstration of Human Transfiguration by one of your classmates."

It was an easier class, and Airmed thanked the gods that Aunt Morgana was teaching this class. It had been a long time since her mother had comforted her. Her foster father was always busy with the war, and he was more of a friend to her now that she was grown. Her other teachers were good substitutes for parental figures, but they rarely hugged her. Niamh and Marcus were always there for her, but right now they was hundreds of miles away. She had only her aunt and Professor Snape as allies so far here in Hogwarts.

As Airmed took detailed notes during the lecture, she felt eyes staring at her back. She dug deep into her training, bringing the shield up around her mind to protect. A complex skill for some, this was like a second skin for Airmed. Whenever she felt uncomfortable in situations, she always brought the shield up around her mind and thoughts.

"Sir Wolfshead." Airmed snapped her head up as she looked at her aunt. "Would you like to demonstrate the ability that you displayed on the night of the Opening Feast?"

Airmed bit her lip before smiling and nodding. Nothing made her feel better than transforming into her different forms. This would help to make her sadness begin to fade. Standing up and tucking in the chair to her desk, she walked in front of the class.

"First, can you explain how you transform like you do?" Aunt Morgana sat behind her desk, a small smile on her face just for her niece.

Airmed looked at all of the faces in front of her, trying her best to explain this. "Well, when I was three, I saw my first wolf. It was just a woodcutting in my family's coat of arms, but I fell in love with it. I wanted to be one so badly, and then something happened: a bright light surrounded me, and my vision began to change. My mother came looking for me when I stopped making noise. When she found me, she got the surprise of her life when she saw a wolf pup where she had left me. She picked me up by the scruff on my neck, looking me in the eyes. I wanted so badly to tell her that I was sorry for causing trouble, when another bright light surrounded me and I was human again. That was when I began my training at the Academy.

"My training masters taught me how to control my magic in order to change into various forms. Before I could even attempt the change again, I had to learn anatomy of every creature, both normal and magical, inside and out. Now, I can change at will into any creature." As she spoke, she saw that everyone believed her, a far cry from yesterday's embarrassed silence in DADA. "Before I demonstrate, are there any questions?"

Padma Patil from the Ravenclaws raised her hand. "Are you able to transform only parts of your body, say, a hand or a leg? Or do you have to transform your whole body every time?"

"Good question." Airmed nodded to her. "I couldn't do that, not at first. After I completed my basic anatomical studies when I was five, I then had to learn control over my power, in order to manipulate it according to my will."

A different boy raised his hand. "Seamus Finnegan. When you transform, do you keep your human mind, or do you turn into that animal completely?"

"Another good question, Seamus. Yes, I do keep my human intelligence in my animal forms." She looked over the classroom and pointed to a Hufflepuff near the back. "You, there. What's your name?"

"Ernie. Ernie MacMillian." He stuck his chin out, making him appear pompous and important as he stood from his chair unbidden.

"Well, Ernie, Ernie MacMillian," at that, the class snickered a bit, "I will give you a first go." He stared at her with confusion. "Tell me what you want me to transform into, be it whole body or part."

His answer came right quick. "A badger. Whole body."

She nodded her head before closing her eye and transforming. In a blink of an eye (a wink of her eye?), a full-size badger was on the ground in front of them. What surprised them all was that she walked among them only to stop in front of Ernie. With some degree of difficulty, the Airmed-badger stood on her hindquarters and pushed him back in his seat with only one shove.

As Ernie huffed on impact with his chair, Airmed transformed again and returned to the front of the class. With a wave of her hand, all the desks (and the students sitting in them) levitated a few inches up from the ground and moved against the walls before gently dropping back to the ground. "I don't want to hurt any of you, but I do need a little more space." She looked around expectantly. "Well, any more volunteers?"

Everyone's hands shot up in the air, begging her to choose them first. "'Ermione."

"Actually, I just have a question. What do you mean, you started your schooling at three years of age?" Her face looked incredulous, like it was inconceivable for someone to start learning so early.

"That has nothing to do with the demonstration at hand, Ms. Granger." Professor McGonagall spoke from her desk. "Sir Wolfshead has sworn an oath of secrecy, akin to an Unbreakable Vow, in regards to many aspects of her training at the Aurorian Academy. Professor Dumbledore failed to mention this at the Opening Feast, but as Deputy Headmistress, I am telling you all now: do not ask questions about the Academy or Sir Wolfshead's teachers, or it will be an automatic five point deduction from your house."

Airmed turned around the class and pointed to another person. "Daphne Greengrass. Can you transform your hands into bear paws?"

With a smile, the demonstrations were back on track. Bear paws for hands… snakeskin on her arms… a raven… a lion… a griffin… cat's eyes… the dragon from the feast… a tiger… a phoenix… The students were creative in their requests, and it got Airmed to smile after her distress earlier.

When she was finished, she moved the desks back with another wave of her hand and sat down. Standing once more, Professor McGonagall looked at them all. "For homework, I want you to read the chapter on Vanishing Spells for Thursday. Off you go, now."

As everyone was leaving, Airmed walked to the desk in front and looked to her aunt. "Professor McGonagall, I had a chance to explore the library floor yesterday before Defense, and I noticed a large blocked-out section. The librarian insisted that I had to have a note from a professor in order to access it. Is it possible for you to write me such a note?"

Professor McGonagall looked to her niece with a tilted head and a curious gaze. "Why, Sir Wolfshead, would you need to access the Forbidden Section?"

"For resources in my self-study, ma'am. I pride myself on being thorough, and I do not wish to stop simply because I am not on Mann." It was a quick flick of a quill and a few drops of ink flying around, but Aunt Morgana signed the note and passed it to the young Knight. "Ms. Wolfshead, you know that my office doors are always open to students in need of an ear to listen. Please, don't ever be hesitant to talk to me." Airmed looked at her aunt and mouthed, "Thank you," as she headed off to Charms, tucking the note away in her smaller notebook.

Charms was… well, it was fun. Professor Flitwick was animated and bright as he taught the basics of Silencing Charms to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Airmed dutifully took notes, but when it came to the incantation and wand movements, she sat quietly at her desk.

"Sir Wolfshead, can you demonstrate the spell for us?" He may have only reached the middle of her chest as she sat, but Professor Flitwick was a former duelist and still had that essence of steel in him. "Where is your wand, my dear?"

"Professor, I don't have one." By now, the whole of the class was, once again, looking at her strangely. "We don't use wands on Mann." She looked at the toad on her desk that she was supposed to be Silencing, and with a single flick of her finger, her toad was rendered mute. A question formed on Professor Flitwick's face. "We are trained to focus our magic by strength of will alone. What we will to happen, we can shape our magic to those desires."

Professor Flitwick looked around the class. "Has anyone else seen a demonstration of this?"

Hermione's hand shot in the air. "Sir, in Transfiguration today, she moved forty desks with a wave of her hand. And at the Opening Feast, she changed her tunic before all of us."

As he pondered and stroked his beard, Flitwick peered at her. She looked at his hand as he thought: just like Professor Snape, Flitwick bore a gold band set with a malachite cabochon. He saw that she saw, and discretely nodded his head. "Well, my dear, in that case, do the spells here in class as you have been instructed to by your… teachers." He seemed to pause at the word 'teachers', as if it was not his first description of choice.

He addressed the rest of the class. "I want you all to give me two feet of parchment on the theory behind the Silencing Charm, and how it can be used practically in a magical duel. Off you go!" Airmed quietly packed her bags and headed to the stairs. The Charms class, being on the eighth level of the castle, was a far enough distance for her to fly down.

She took her time with lunch, having had eaten little at breakfast. Down the table, Seamus Finnegan was trying to turn his water into rum, while Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom compared what looked like Divination dream journals.

"Lookie here, Gred… A Knight with no armor." A voice rang out behind her. She turned and saw two redhead twins standing behind her, identical down to the last freckle.

"Be careful, Forge. Didn't Ginny ever teach you how not to judge a book by its cover?" Simultaneously, they shivered.

Airmed could not help but to laugh. "Let me guess… Somehow, are you related to Ronald Weasley?"

"Him, that redhead fool? Unfortunately so. But still, one must wonder how that came about. He's nothing like us." They spoke one sentence at a time, trading off speaking between the two of them. Between the two of them and those silly grins plastered on their faces, she could not help but to laugh again. "However, we didn't come to talk about us. What about you?" They sat down on the bench, one of either side of her.

Her smile noticeably dimmed. "I have travelled the trail of tears and blood, of sorrow and loss. I have killed many people, but lost more. This week is the first that I have laughed in the longest time." She looked at them, perplexed. "And no, I am no dark wizard sent to corrupt you in your sleep."

"Oh, good!" One of them handed her a goblet of pumpkin juice. "But that's not what we meant…" They looked at each other. "Tell us about the Isle of Man."

By now, she knew full well that others were listening in on the conversation. These Hogwarts folk were not very discrete, at least among the Gryffindors. She sipped from the offered goblet and began to tell. "The Isle is a beautiful place. Where the hills are green, heather and cushag grow in abundance, colouring the landscape green, purple, and gold." She closed her eye, allowing her voice to grow soft and whimsical. "Where the ocean meets the rocky cliff-sides, gulls and water birds make their nests in the sharp rocks. The ocean pounds on the shoreline all the time, the undertow strong enough to pull the strongest men down to the depths. There is one area that beaches out, and that is where we hold our funerals." She opened her eye and saw that all of the Gryffindors were listening intently to her. "Most mornings, the mist climbs over the cliffs and covers the ground, even coming up to the castle walls. The hills are covered, masking them from sight." She looked down at the vambraces tied to her forearms for a moment. "Falcons and wolves live in the forest, with ferrets, voles, wild birds, deer, bears… whole numbers of animals and birds live around the island. Apple tree grow everywhere, and the ground is so rich and fertile that anything grows. Such a beautiful place…"

She slammed the goblet down, startling all around her out of their reveries. "But I'm here right now, and it does no good to dwell on the past for more than is necessary." With that, she stood up. Before she transformed, she felt a tug on her sleeve. Airmed looked down to see Euan standing behind her. "What is it, little one?"

He was blushing so badly, but he spoke quietly and purposefully as she knelt before him. "Sir, can you teach me how to do that? Turn into animals?"

Airmed's heart nearly broke at the sight of him asking. "I'm sorry, Euan. Only people born of the Isle can do that. But," she lifted his chin up to look him in the eye, "you can always become an Animagus when you're older. Ask Professor McGonagall about it in your next Transfiguration class." She smiled at him. "And you can always ask me for a ride."

"I have Charms next. Could I get a ride, just once?" Airmed smiled and transformed into the large grey wolf from the feast. Lying on the ground, she waited for Euan to sit behind her forequarters before coming onto her paws. He was light for an eleven year old, and his hands held on tight to the fur on her neck. With a happy bark, the Airmed-wolf took off at a run, little Euan holding on for dear life.

Professor Flitwick yelped in shock when they stopped in front of his door. Euan jumped off just as Airmed transformed into human shape. She looked up at the diminutive professor and winked before ruffling Euan's hair. "Now be good for the professor, yah?" She walked across the room to the window. Transforming into the peregrine falcon, she cried out as she launched herself from the windowsill into the air.

The wind was picking up ever so slightly, but at least it was flowing in the directions of the greenhouses, the location of her next class. She just soared in the air as she barrel-rolled and twisted to land in front of the fourth of the small buildings. Looking around, she was the only student here yet. Airmed shook her head: what was with this school and the lack of discipline? Knocking on the door, she heard someone speak, "Come in, come in!"

Humid air hit her face as soon as she entered the greenhouse. Her heart warmed at the sight of the heather plants in the corner of the room, thriving somehow in this heat. She could pick out a rounder woman in dirty brown robes, her arms elbow-deep in dirt. Her wiry grey hair was frizzy underneath her pointed hat.

"Who's there?" The woman still had her back turned to Airmed as she wandered amidst the plants.

"A fifth year, Airmed Wolfshead." She saw a group of quivering Mandrake plants on the table in front of her. "Your Mandrakes need re-planting, correct?"

"Yes. One of many things to be done, I'm afraid." Airmed smiled. Her mother, she remembered, loved to grow things. She had passed on whatever knowledge she had to her youngest daughter.

Working carefully, Airmed slipped on a pair of dragon-hide gloves after stripping off her cloak and rolling up her sleeves. She found a bin of earmuffs and passed one to the dumpy-looking Professor. "Please wear this." She laid out a row of bigger pots and bags of soil before putting her own earmuffs in place.

She worked quickly now. Grabbing a potted Mandrake, she grasped it firmly just above the root and yanked it out. She could not hear it wailing, but she definitely saw it fighting her as she moved the plant into the bigger pot and loosely packed fresh soil around it. She did that for all of the Mandrakes before sprinkling them with water.

Airmed felt a tap on her shoulder. As she turned, she saw the woman standing behind her. With a shake of her head, she dislodged her earmuffs. "How did you do that?" The woman pointed to the fifteen potted plants, now content in their bigger pots.

"I learned back home." She took off one of her gloves just as students began to file in. "You must be Professor Sprout, yes?"

"Yes, Sir Wolfshead. I know." Airmed cocked an eyebrow: three people now had used her title. "Professor Dumbledore told us about you before you came here. I am fascinated with the fertility of the soil on the Isle; I've only heard legends about the quality of your apple trees."

"Blame it on an abundance of dragon manure, low soil acidity, and plenty of water and sun." They shook hands as the students pooled in around the table.

"Very good. Twenty points to Gryffindor, for exceptional potting skills." Professor Sprout turned and addressed the rest of the class. "Now this year, we will be focusing on more Potions-oriented ingredients. You will be graded on how well you are able to harvest the ingredients, as well as your knowledge."

This class, yet again, was child's play for Airmed. She was able to identify all of the plants in front of her: deadly nightshade, oleander, thorn apple, mountain laurel, and jimsonweed. They had to re-plant and water them, a repeat of her earlier actions with the Mandrakes. From mature plants, they harvested the parts necessary for potion ingredients. All the while, Sprout watched them and critiqued their methods.

Why did people assume that this work schedule was a hard load? Airmed contemplated that as she flew back to the castle. This was child's play for her, even with her schedule being fuller than the other students. She still had another two hours of self-study to complete, but it was doable. Back home, there were so many additional lessons, not including honing skills, early morning practices, drills and patrols… The work was never ending. What did they have here: homework and sports, with the occasional weekend outing? This was a joke!

This last class, separated into two time-slots, was Airmed's favorite subject to pursue. Natural philosophy was a practice first begun by the ancient Greeks. It was meant for observation and analysis of nature. The Greeks took this a step further and interpreted some of these data into how it could affect human life and behavior. Now, it was branched out into what was referred as the sciences: biology, zoology, botany… chemistry, physics, genetics… astronomy, navigation… medicine, anatomy… philosophy, ethics, morals… mathematics, algebra, trigonometry… music, literature, art, dying of cloths, metallurgy. Everything in this world could be explained through a process of natural philosophy. This week, she was given a relatively simple task: read up on the study of plant breeding and she had to find out how to successfully and hypothetically crossbreed thorn apple and hellebore.

She found that the members of the British magical world tended to segregate themselves from the 'Muggle' world. This was not true on Mann. Their libraries were homes of much of the 'lost' knowledge of the ancient world, and it was constantly being filled with more knowledge and theories through the years as it came out. The Manx Royal Library had the biggest collection of original Greek and Islamic texts dating by to before the fall of the Roman Empire. Some called it magic: in that, she was one of them. It allowed them to keep updated in their information, not like some of these school textbooks from out of the Victorian age. They were up to date with non-magical scientific theory, even going so far as to apply it in their own schools of thought. All knowledge is sacred, especially the ones that people do not understand right away.

After her natural philosophy self-study, she skipped dinner in favor of her Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, Herbology, and Astronomy homework. She was not hungry, and she knew that she would be spending her evening self-study session with Umbridge and her sadistic detention.

At least, Friday would be a light at the end of this dismal week…