Chapter Ten
Mark
The professor standing at the front of the room regarding the class of eager first years with a critical eye seemed an odd choice for someone to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was a short, slim young woman of Asian descent dressed in unrelieved black. Her tilted brown eyes seemed able to assess the threat of a person instantly.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is your most important class here at Hogwarts," she lectured, looking at each student individually. "I, Professor Song, will be the one to instruct you in it. The threat of Dark wizards is nearly constant, and You-Know-Who could return at any moment. It is of the utmost importance to be prepared to fight against the curses of these wizards.
"Many of you lost someone during the war. Even those of you who are Muggleborn probably know someone who died as a result of You-Know-Who's attempts to take over the wizarding world. With so many dead and even more people at risk, it is extremely important that we can all identify a Dark wizard and defend ourselves against them."
"What about the Killing Curse?" someone asked. "There's no defense against that."
"You won't a counter to it by the time I'm done with you," the professor promised. "In this class, you'll master dueling. If you can jump out of the way, then you won't die. I'm not telling you that you should think of Avada Kedavra as a trivial thing- none of the Unforgivables are matters to be taken lightly. Instead, I'm going to see to it that you are all well prepared."
One of Harry's eyebrows shot up. This woman was an idiot if she thought that you could just dodge the Killing Curse and prance away as if it had been a tickling charm. If things were that easy than the death toll would never have risen into the thousands. Most of the time victims of the curse were not even aware that they were in danger, and even if they were, it was hard to defeat someone who is willing to use whatever means necessary to defeat you.
"The first thing we will learn today is how to recognize the symbol of evil. Prepare yourselves." Professor Song stood poised with her wand drawn as if ready to cast a spell. The students, especially the Muggleborns, glanced around nervously. "Mosmordre!"
A sickly green light shot out of her wand, searing across Harry's vision. He closed his eyes quickly, trying to forget the same rush of emerald illumination that had instantly ended the lives of both of his parents. He heard startled cried and even a high pitched squeal, causing his eyes to open.
The morbid symbol of Voldemort, the Dark Mark, hung in the air at the front of the classroom. The empty eye sockets of the skull seemed at once understandably repelling and inexplicably tantalizing, as if drawing him in with their promised whispers of the return to his simpler and happier childhood. The hissing snake weaving in and out of the skull's grinning teeth caught Harry's attention. He glared at the familiar reptile and averted his eyes from the glowing symbol.
All of the students were shocked. Most of the girls were sobbing wildly and Harry caught tears leaking from the corners of the eyes of more than one male. The children wore a wide range of expressions from utter fury and abhorrence to an almost welcoming grin. Draco, Harry noted, did not seem at all uncomfortable with the Mark.
The Mudbloods looked confused but even they knew enough to be scared. They had probably heard horror stories of the Mark, but they had supposed them to be fictioius urban legends. Harry shut his eyes, mind disgusted at their ignorance. Voldemort was almost more of a threat to Muggles than he was to wizards and yet the fools had no realistic sense of their peril.
How could they know? the rational part of his mind argued. It's not like Voldemort sent them calling cards announcing his intentions to totally destroy their civilizations.
If they were smart enough to notice things they would have realized that something was wrong. Even with Aurors working to erase all Muggle memories of magical conflicts, there were enough odd deaths that Muggle weoponry could not account for that they almost had to turn to a magical explanation.
"Now you have no reason to be frightened. You-Know-Who is not at this castle, and we are not being attacked. I showed you his symbol merely so that you could be aware of its meaning and importance." Professor Song's voice had a hard edge to it; she could not believe that the children were scared of such a measly apparation that had absolutely no ability to harm them.
"You-Know-Who's sign, it's his sign, he's going to come and kill us all and torture us and-" a dark Indian girl with the Gryffindor crest on her robe screamed, gesticulating wildly in the air with her arms. Her dark eyes shown with a panicked light.
Those proudly bearing Slytherin colours laughed at her expense; the girls' cheeks flushed a deep red and she cut off suddenly. "Scared of the Dark Lord?" a pale and ugly Slytherin girl taunted. "He'd be all too glad to kill a bunch of Muggle-loving fools like your parents, Patel."
"Miss Parkinson, that is quite enough! Come with me to the headmaster's office immediately. The rest of you remain in your seats and behave!" Professor Song hauled the mean Slytherin girlout the door with her. The class was silent for a moment as the door closed behind their instructor. Then there was a large shuffling of seats until there were two sides to the conflict.
The Gryffindors had gathered on one side of the room, the boys stony faced and the girls working to comfort their embarassed comrade. One of them, a rash looking red head with worn robes had even drawn his wand and was holding it in front of him as if ready to hex someone.
The Slytherins were on the opposing side, laughing patronizingly at their fellow students. They did not seemed concerned that one of their number was missing, if anything, they were even more secure that they could overpower the Gryffindors. Malfoy in particular looked smug, leaning back against a stone pillar with his arms crossed self-assuredly across his chest.
"She must not have been teaching for very long, to leave the Slytherins and the Gryffindors alone like this," he observed slowly, grinning widely. "After all, she should know that the Gryffindors are a bunch of wimps who can't stand up to a little baiting."
"You watch it, Malfoy," the red head smarted back.
"Am I supposed to be scared, Weasley? Do you honestly think you could do anything to me?"
"Your father isn't here to protect you."
"And neither is yours. Go on and hex me. If you end up in trouble, there's nothing your father could do about it; he doesn't have the influence."
"At least my father didn't bribe his way out of Azkaban."
"It's not like you have the money." Weasley sputtered in anger. He was out of attacks for Malfoy, so he turned his attention to Harry instead.
"And what side are you on?" he demanded, freckles bulging out from his red skin.
Malfoy answered for him. "He's on our side."
"I don't have any part in your stupid squabble," Harry informed them both. "If you'd open your eyes wide enough to notice, I haven't joined either of you." It was true; Harry was calmly sitting in his desk watching the others argue.
"You can't just sit in the middle like that," a black Gryffindor stated boldly. "Either you're with us or you're with them."
"I'm not with either of you. It's not like this fight matters anyway. None of you know enough magic to even make the others' nose bleed."
"And you think you do?" another boy challenged. He had sandy hair. "You don't know who my father is, obviously. He's one of the top Aurors, Frank Longbottom. He's taught me how to deal with Dark scum like the Slytherins."
"Of course I do. You don't know who I am either." Harry spoke in a calm and measured tone that clearly infuriated the Longbottom boy.
"Stupefy!" A blinding flash of light shot forth from his wand. Harry did not respond, watching calmly as the spell rushed towards him. "Hah!" Longbottom shouted victoriously as the light hit the other boy.
"I told you so," Harry said. Longbottom stared at him dumbly with his mouth hanging open.
"But-" he stammered, pointing at Harry dumbly.
"Potter isn't one of you stupid Gryffindors," Malfoy cut him off caustically. "He was raised among much better company."
"Hardly," Harry snorted. Malfoy frowned at him but did not press the point.
Professor Song entered the room before anyone had a chance to do anything else. "I thought that I told you to remain in your seats," she noted with a slight furrowing of her brow. The first years scampered back to their seats, though they still retained the same basic orientation in regards to one another.
"Now, as I was saying, before you can begin to fight the forces of Darkness, you have to be able to recognize them. Does anyone know how to do that?"
Although Harry and at least several others must have known, no one raised their hand. Finally, a frizzy-haired Mudblood raised her hand. "How can you tell if someone's evil just by looking at them? Isn't that a bit biased?"
"It would be, Miss Granger, if it were not for the ways in which you recognize a Death Eater. You can not just immediately glance over at someone and say that they are evil or not. Instead, you must look for certain signs. The Dark Mark is not merely shot off after an attack; it is also imprinted on the skin of each and every Death Eater."
A few people gasped in surprise. "Now, I'll need a volunteer." No one raised their hand. "How about..." Professor Song consulted the roll momentarily," Mr. Potter?"
Harry rose from his seat nervously and walked to the front of the classroom. "Mr. Potter, if you will kindly roll back your sleeve." Knowing where this was heading, he rolled up his right sleeve to the elbow.
"Your other arm, Mr. Potter."
Gulping, Harry slowly obeyed.
Pressed into the pale flesh of his lower arm was the ghastly visage of the Dark Mark. It was a pale
gray color, but still highly noticeable. The entire class, including the Slytherins, gasped in shock. Harry shut his eyes against the onslaught of babbling students.
Longbottom's voice was the loudest. "We have to arrest him, Professor! He's a Death Eater! We can't let Death Eater scum run loose around Hogwarts!"
"Quiet down class, quiet down!" Professor Song yelled, but her words had no effect. Several students looked ready to bolt for the door. Others attempted to shield themselves behind their desks.
The braver ones drew their wands and advanced on their classmate. Some of the Slytherins debated whether or not they should risk defending one who had shown himself to be their fellow but quickly decided against in in the inerests of self-preservation.
Harry's temper was beginning to rise, and with it, his magic. He struggled to keep his powers under contol, but the anger and fear were too much for him. The magic broke around the walls he had attempted to hastily erect around it.
Raw power flooded through the room, extinguishing all the torches. Glass blew out of windows, scattering across the floor. Rainbow patterns flashed and glinted dangerously as a harsh wind began to rush through the wind, throwing those still standing to their feet.
"The door's locked!" shouted a student who had reached the door. "We're all going to die!"
Harry shrieked as his magical power rose to dangerous levels. His body could not handle the added stress for much longer. His feet left the floor and his back arched painfully as he began to glow with multicoloured light. Slowly, then picking up speed, he began to twirl around. The scared and confused faces of his classmates whirled around him until he lost sight of them and they disappeared ito a gigantic blur.
The winds still tearing through the room gave one last final burst before slowing as Harry fell to the floor. Hastily, he scrambled to his feet and rushed out through the door that flung itself open for him, leaving everyone staring after him.
A/N: MWAA HAH HAH HAH! I FEEL SO POWERFUL! HAHAHA!
On the other hand, I feel so sorry for poor Harry. It's not his fault he's got a Dark Mark.