A/N: Thanks toJaneSilverfor giving me the Mandrake idea. Hope you enjoy!
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Chapter 11 – Briar
Briar munched on a roll as he followed Harry and Ron to their first class. He had slept in that day, as was usual when he was surrounded by the green glow of his magical shakkan, and had been late for breakfast. He'd had barely enough time to sneak a few rolls off the table before they were dismissed and sent off to class.
"I can't believe this schedule!" Ron moaned beside him. "Both Snape and that Umbridge woman in the morning! Not to mention Trelawney this afternoon. Honestly, that's just torture."
"Stop exaggerating, Ron," sighed a girl named Hermione as she and Sandry came up beside them. "None of them are that bad."
Ron snorted disbelievingly.
"Well," Hermione acknowledged, "maybe Trelawney. But, really, we have no idea hwo Umbridge teaches, and Snape is, well, just Snape. There's nothing unusual there."
"But getting all three? In one day?"
"We have to have them sometime. Besides, that means you'll have something to look forward to tomorrow," Hermione pointed out cheerfully.
They walked off down the hall until arriving at large, wooden door. Going inside, they found themselves in a brightly-lit classroom. Hermione and Sandry sat next to each other at one desk while Briar went over to sit with Ron and Harry.
At the front of the room was a little balcony with a staircase leading up to it. The door swung open, and in stepped Umbridge. She was wearing a fluffy pink cardigan and still had that large black bow positioned on the top of her head.
Not much fashion sense eh? Briar thought to Sandry.
Who are you to be discussing the delicate art of fashion? was her reply.
Hey, at least I know more than her. She looks like a frog. Better yet, a toad.
Sandry rolled her eyes. Don't say that out loud.
I'm not some bleat-brained kid! I know when to keep my trap shut. You, of all people, should know that by now.
Professor Umbridge smiled widely at them. "Well, good morning to you!" she said to them once the class had sat down.
A couple people mumbled 'good morning' in reply.
"Tut, tut," Umbridge said, "that won't do, now, will it? I should like you to please reply, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge'. Let's try once more. Good morning, class!"
"Good morning, Professor Umbridge!" they chanted back at her.
"There, now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?" she replied sweetly. "Wands away and quills out, please."
Ron muttered to Briar under his breath, "Never has there been a class ordered 'wands away' that hasn't ended in half the class falling asleep out of boredom," as he tucked his wand into his bookbag. Briar thought that explained the gloomy looks being exchanged by many students in the class.
Professor Umbridge tapped the board with her own wand and words appeared at once. "Now, your teaching in this area has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" she asked, turning to them. "Your constant changing in teachers, many of which who have been not approved by the Ministry, has resulted in you all being sadly behind where you are expected to be in your OWL year.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that this year we will be correcting your past lessons and following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Copy the following down, please."
She waved her wand again, and more words appeared. Briar pulled out his brand-new quill and started jotting them down. For several minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment.
Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles
Course Aims
1) Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2) Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3) Placing the use of defensive magic in context for practical use.
Once everyone had copied down the Course Aims, Umbridge asked them, "Do you all have you copies of Defensive Magical Theory, by William Slinkhard?"
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the room.
"I think we will try that again. When I ask a question, I want you all to reply with either 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So, do you all have your copies?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge," chanted the class. Several of them looked a bit exasperated at how Umbridge was talking to them.
"Good," she said. "Turn to page five and read Chapter One, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."
Briar rummaged through his bag and found the book she was talking about, thanking the gods that Tris had bought all their school books for them. He turned to page 5 and began to read.
The book was incredibly boring. Briar could soon feel his concentration sliding; he wasn't used to reading this much. After reading the same line several times and still not understanding a word of it, Briar skipped onto the next page. Staring blankly at it, he concluded that trying to read and understand this book was pointless. In his opinion, it was lucky for that Slinkhard fellow that he could read at all.
Briar? came Daja's voice from inside his head. Do you think you can help me here?
Closing his eyes, he reached out through their connection. Through her eyes, he could see a metal needle and could hear McGonagall asking her to turn it into a matchstick. I might be able to, he told her. I'll need you to melt it so that I can work with it better, and it might help if Tris can... loosen it or something. Like, you know how squashed plants can turn into coal and metal? Something like that, except... opposite...
Just melt it, Tris said to them both. That should work. You won't need me for that, right? 'Cause I'm in the middle of a Potions class here.
No problem, Daja replied. I can handle the heat. But what about you, Briar?
I'm just taking notes in this Defence class. Or at least attempting too, he privately thought. It's easy. I can help you at the same time. That definitely wasn't a lie.
Thanks.
No prob. Extending his magical self, he was able to flow out through her into the classroom. He could feel it when she joined him in her magical form.
Together, they were able to change the needle. Daja carefully focussed her heat on it, and with a bit of persuasion she was able to coax the metal into listening to Briar. Once she had done that, he was easily able to take over and go through the particles. By enlarging the distance between them and infusing it with his green magic, he was able to turn it into wood. Lastly, on his advice, Daja took the tiny bit of metal left over and smeared it on one end, to make it flammable.
In his magical form, he watched as McGonagall struck the match against the box and lit it. Blowing it out, she laid it back on the table. "See if you can change it back."
Are you still there, Briar? his sister called out.
Yep. Need more help? he asked her.
Please.
This time, Briar pulled the particles of wood apart by force and then watched as Daja used her magical breath as a bellows to suck them in much more tightly, until they turned to metal. She was able to make it thin like wire, and then they got Sandry to look at it and use her sewing experience to make the tiniest hole in one end.
Thanks, Briar, she said to him, relieved.
You're welcome, Daj', he responded as he went back into his own body.
He turned back to his book, his connection with Daja still open enough that he could faintly hear McGonagall telling her to turn a beetle into a button.
How exactly am I supposed to do this? she groaned to Briar.
I can't help you here; you're all on your own, he told her with a grin as he drew out of her mind.
Bored yet again, Briar glanced around the class and caught sight of Hermione. Instead of reading, she was sitting there with her hand up, staring fixedly at Umbridge.
Briar watched her and Umbridge for over ten minutes. Umbridge was pointedly ignoring Hermione's hand, and Hermione was just as pointedly ignoring the book that lay unopened on her desk.
After a while, when nearly half the class were staring at the two of them rather than doing their reading, Umbridge finally seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer. She walked over to Hermione's desk as though she had just noticed her and asked, "Do you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"
"Not about the chapter, no."
"Well, we're reading right now, so if you have other questions you shall have to ask at the end of class," said Umbridge with another of her false smiles.
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows as she replied, "Well, Miss Granger, I think that the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully."
"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing on there about using defensive spells."
There was a brief silence, during which many of the students turned to look at the board in confusion.
"Why, Miss Granger," Umbridge said with a little laugh, "I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom in which you would need to use defensive spells! You aren't surely expecting that you will be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to be using magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.
"Students raise their hand when they wish to speak in my class, Mr Weasley."
Ron immediately stuck his hand in the air, but Umbridge turned away from him and back to Hermione, whose hand was up once more.
"Yes, Miss Granger? You have another question?"
"Yes," Hermione replied. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"
Umbridge stared at her. "Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" she asked her.
"No, but-"
"Then I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the whole point of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"
"What use is that?" Harry called out. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"
"Hand, Mr Potter!" Glancing away from Harry, she turned back to the class, many of which had their hands in the air. "You have a question too, Mr Thomas?"
"Yes," said one of the boys, "I mean, it's like what Harry said, right? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."
"I repeat," Umbridge said, smiling in an irritating fashion, "are you expecting to be attacked during my class?"
"No, but-"
Professor Umbridge sighed. "I do not mean to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention some extremely dangerous half-breeds."
"If you mean Lupin, he was the best we ever-"
"Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that are complex and inappropriate for your age. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"
"No we haven't, we just-"
"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!" she cried. She turned back to face them. "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he performed them on you, which of course should have been an indicator that he was not Ministry-approved! However, in your state of fear, we have made this new program. End of discussion. Go back to your reading." Umbridge started back to her desk when she saw another girl's hand up. "Yes, Miss Patil?"
"Well, isn't there a practical bit in our exams? Aren't we supposed to actually perform the defensive spells?"
"As long as you have studied the theory, you should be able to perform the spells," Professor Umbridge said dismissively as she proceeded to her desk and sat down.
"Without ever practising them?" the girl said in astonishment. "Are you telling us that we'll be able to do them our first time?"
"I repeat, as long as you have studied your theory-"
"And what good is theory going to be in the real world?" Briar asked her, his hand up already. "I mean, I'm from someplace different, but even there we actually do what we learn, not run around pretending to know it and then not be able to do it when we need to." Behind him, he could hear Sandry groan slightly. I figured it was time to put my bit in, he told her.
Umbridge gazed at him and then said softly, "This is school, Mr Moss, not the real world."
"So you're not preparing us for what's out there? Because it's not like we're going be in school forever, you know," he pointed out.
"There is nothing out there that will harm you, Mr Moss," she repeated.
"Oh, really?" Harry said incredulously.
"Who do you think wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asked him.
"Hmm... let's think. How about... just maybe... Lord Voldemort?" he retorted.
The reactions of the class at those two words surprised Briar. Several of the girls shrieked; a couple students fell off their chairs; and most of them gasped or stared at Harry in shock. Umbridge, however, was staring at Briar with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.
"Ten points from Griffindor, Mr Potter."
The entire classroom was silent, staring at Harry and Umbridge.
Umbridge stood up from her desk. "Let me make one thing clear. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead. This is a lie."
"It is not a lie!" Harry said angrily. "I saw him, I fought him!"
"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "Five o'clock tonight at my office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry guarantees that none of you are in danger from any Dark wizards or witches. And now, you will kindly proceed with your reading." She sat back down and watched them expectantly.
Harry, however, stood up. Ron whispered softly, "Don't say anything, mate, just leave it," but Harry ignored him.
"So, according to you," he said, his voice shaking with fury, "you think that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"
Briar sat there, stunned. Was this what had happened, last June, that Harry was so reluctant to mention? That might explain the fact that everyone in the class was staring at him, not even daring to breath, as though he might say more.
Umbridge said coldly, "His death was a tragic accident."
"He was murdered," Harry said tightly. "Voldemort killed him and you know it."
Umbridge stared at him a moment, then beckoned to him. "Come up here." Briar watched Harry as he walked up the aisle. At her desk, Umbridge was busily scribbling a note on a roll of pink parchment. When Harry came closer, she rolled it up and tapped it with her wand to close it.
"Take this to Professor McGonagall," she said grimly.
Harry took it from her and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Umbridge turned back to the class, once again fixing that false smile onto her face.
"Page five, Basics for Beginners," she told them, and everyone turned back to their books.
The rest of class went by quickly, and at last the bell rang. Briar followed the Griffindors down the hallway.
Behind him, Hermione sighed. "Harry really shouldn't have done that; he's so defensive nowadays, he lashes out at the slightest remark."
"Well, can you blame him?" Ron asked her. "After what happened?" Briar noticed that they both kept their voices down low.
In Briar's opinion, their Potions class could have gone worse, but on the other hand, it could have been a lot better. Professor Snape was a strict teacher who unashamedly took points away from the class for the slightest things. He criticized everyone except Hermione on their brewing of the Draught of Peace, which was an extremely difficult potion to make.
At the end of class, Briar borrowed a flask and ladled his attempt at the potion into it. His had turned a dark, blood red rather than light silver, mostly due to his experimentation of the ingredients. It seemed he still had a way to go before inventing his own potions. At least his was better than Neville's – his had a think, sticky consistency and was more solid than liquid. He had to use a spoon to scrape it out of his cauldron.
They had a hearty lunch, during which Briar made up for his lack of breakfast by eating nearly twice as much as he usually would, including three pieces of the most delicious dessert he had ever had. As a result, the large apple pie in front of him was devoured in a matter of minutes.
It seemed as though everyone in Griffindor and possibly the entire school for that matter had heard of Harry's argument with Umbridge. Everyone was asking him questions, some of which Harry had difficulty ignoring. Finally Hermione slammed her fork and knife down on the table and marched him out, Ron following suit. At their departure, the Hall quieted noticeably.
At last it was his free period. Briar wandered the halls for a bit before heading up to the common room.
Once he was inside, he went upstairs to the boy's dorm. Instead of opening the first door, he continued on to where the older students' room was. Their door had a hand-made sign on it, reading "Headquarters of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Above the sign, someone had printed the word "TEMPORARY" in red ink. Briar knocked on the door.
A dark-skinned boy opened it. "Hey, kid," he said, "what's up?"
"Um... is this Fred and George's room?"
"Yep."
"Can I talk with one of them?"
"Sure thing." The boy turned around and called, "Yo, twins! Some kid's here to see you two."
A moment later, the Weasley twins appeared in the doorway, identical grins spreading across their faces as they saw Briar. "Hey, Briar, come on in," one of them said. It looked like George, but he couldn't be certain.
"By the way, Briar, this is our pal Lee Jordan. He's our chief prank assistant," commented Fred as they led Briar in. "This is the exchange student," he told Lee.
"Yeah, I didn't think I recognized you. Nice meeting you, Briar," Lee said to him.
"Here, you can sit on this chair," George said, shoving a pile of books off of it. He sat on the bed beside him and Fred leaned against the opposite wall. Briar glanced around the room. Theirs was considerably messier; the floor was littered with clothes and papers, and there was a faint smell of olds socks and something... chemically.
"So, what can we do for you?" Fred asked him.
"I had Umbridge today," Briar said, avoiding his question.
The twins seemed to understand him.
"Ah," George said. "Got to experience Ministry tactics firsthand, huh?"
"Yeah... about that." Briar hesitated just a minute before bluntly saying, "I'm going to help you guys. She's just... creepy, y'know? I mean, what with the whole fancy talk about the Ministry and just her attitude towards us... it's weird. I mean, maybe this is what typical Hogwarts teachers are like, but I don't think so. I just don't get that feeling."
Fred nodded. "That's great, Briar. We really appreciate it. Congrats, Briar; welcome to the team!"
Lee walked over. "These two recruiting you already?" he remarked with a grin.
"Better believe it," George said, an evil look in his eye. "Now we can really start planning."
After agreeing to help them, they got Briar to look over their formula for Nosebleed Nougat to help them get an idea of what type of alterations they needed to make. Then the three of them started brainstorming ideas for pranks to pull on Umbridge while Briar checked out some of the supplies the twins had stored in a secret compartment under one of the beds. They had collected many ingredients that they thought would be useful. Briar decided he needed to get a dictionary to look them up in so that he would have a better understanding of what they were, but for the time being he checked them out with his green magic.
Once the bell rang, Briar grabbed his bags and ran outside for his Herbology class. He couldn't wait to start working with plants again.
He got lost in the halls and was ten minutes late for class. By the time he arrived at the greenhouses, there was no one in sight.
Briar decided to go into the nearest greenhouse. The only one he had ever seen in Emelan had been created by Dedicate Crane, who was very protective of the glass building that housed his plants.
Opening the door, he found himself in a small room filled with supplies like shovels and buckets. Through the glass wall he could see his classmates, and so he pushed the next door open and went in.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, glancing around the building. At the front of the room was a woman wearing a brown robe that was streaked with dirt. His class stood around a large table laden with potted plants.
In the corner was a large wooden trellis with a plant that looked similar to ivy growing on it. As soon as Briar had entered the room, the plant had turned towards him. It had untwined itself from the trellis and reached out to him, climbing up his arm until it wrapped a final tendril around his neck and then perched there like a large green snake.
Used to the feeling of plants climbing on him, Briar looked around at the class. TO his surprise, no one seemed to notice that he was there. He wondered why that was until he looked around and realized that everyone was wearing a pair of large, fluffy earmuffs.
The woman at the front – he guessed she was a teacher – was holding her plant at its base. With a sharp tug she pulled it out, and Briar looked at the plant in shock.
The top was normal; it was leafy, almost like a fern, but the roots... they were like nothing he had ever seen. It looked almost as if a small, fat, wrinkled, brown human was growing out of the bottom of the plant. As he watched, the plant opened its mouth and began to scream.
It was the strangest sound; it was high-pitched and shrill but had an odd ring to it, a ring that made him tired, as though he could just fall asleep.
At that moment, everyone finally noticed him.
The teacher stared at him in shock and shouted something that he couldn't hear over the plant's screams; the students were gaping at him, fear and worry on their faces; and then even the plant turned its face towards him.
As soon as the plant saw him, it stopped shrieking. Briar had felt himself growing dizzy from the sound and was glad it had stopped; he still felt as though he could black out any moment. Then the plant opened its mouth once more. This time, it sounded as if it was actually talking; talking in a strange language, a language that sounded like singing.
All of the potted plants on the table rose out of the dirt, shaking it off their heads as a dog shakes off water, and then they also began to sing in the same language. Briar reached into his magic to steady himself and then stretched it out to the plants.
Now he could understand what they were saying. It wasn't words exactly, more like feelings. He could sense surprise at his being there, and contentment with him and his magic. They were happy, and all of them seemed a bit taken aback at that feeling. From what he understood, they weren't happy often.
He managed to convey to them that he was happy too, and then after a brief moment in which the first one seemed to be trying to apologize for nearly causing him to faint, they stopped singing and all of the plants sank back into the soil.
At last, Briar glanced up from his conversation with the plants and met the eyes of the teacher. She seemed to be in shock, although he guessed that was equally from him being there and the plants' singing. The students in the class all stared at him. Most of them looked surprised or amazed, but a few looked almost afraid.
Briar wondered how they saw him now. They had caught a glimpse of his powers. How had he looked, with the vine crawling up his back and the plants singing in joy at his arrival?
"Do you have some sort of magic with plants?" the teacher finally asked.
Briar grinned slightly. "Yeah. I'm what's called a green mage," he said.
The teacher seemed very interested to learn more, and so Briar tried to explain about his magic and gave her examples of what he could do. By the end of the day, he had learned that what happened with the plants was not at all normal.
"The mandrake's cry is fatal," Professor Sprout told him, shaking her head. "I don't know why they started singing, or why you're not dead from their screams. Not," she hastened to add, "that that's a bad thing, but still... it's very puzzling, the way they reacted to you."
By dinner Briar was thoroughly annoyed at all the questions being directed at him. Everyone in his Herbology class wanted to know exactly what he had done that made the mandrakes so excited, and everyone not in the class wanted to hear what had happened from those who were there.
"Now you know how I feel," Harry said under his breath as Briar glared at his meal. "Believe me, you should just ignore them or it'll get worse."
He was relieved when Daja arrived to distract him from what had happened.
How did your day go? she asked the four of them.
We'll tell you later, he replied, his voice still sounding a bit frustrated.
After dinner, meet us on the fourth floor corridor, by that wall hanging of the knight, Sandry told them all. We'll find an empty classroom and talk in there.
Sounds good.