Angel Laughter: Year Four
Unusual at Hogwarts
Having been forced into a magical contact without his consent, Harry wishes there is something he could do about it like he knows he could with the muggle laws.
Muggles for one are very protective of children and don't let them within arms reach of danger until they are full adults, not a day earlier, and preferably not even then and a case like Harry's would be actively boycotted by law regardless of what his aunt and uncle would have to say about it, the entire thing called off if it had to to ensure poor Harry's life. In the first place, muggles don't do death games, or at the very least haven't been doing them since a thousand years, which, now that he thinks about it, probably says a lot about wizarding society and may be the first unflattering thing he has thought about the magical world.
Harry figures that is just his luck that he can't depend on the law or adults and that the first trial he has to conquer to survive this year just so happens to be fire breathing, man eating, flying, magical lizards. For once it actually makes him wish his greatest worry could just stay Professor Allen and the question if said Professor might or might not be more dangerous than Voldemort, as if that weren't enough.
In the past there have been contenders around Harry's age, but none have been unlucky enough to run up against dragons, according to Hermione's research, or if they did, they did not survive it, which is something Harry definitely intents to do so he can't exactly use them as reference.
As he broods over books in the library he wonders if there maybe is some kind of really smart and simple way that does not include N.E.W.T level magic skills to avoid a dragon, all the while blissfully overlooking that he could just give up the moment the trial begins if all he wants is to survive to not die carrying the frustration of Professor Allen's unsolved secrets.
.
This is a change, thinks Harry, watching the Christmas holidays approach in some kind of uncomfortable bewilderment.
In the previous years, as there has always been some kind of trouble, the school has been mostly empty; it is a very great difference to this year, where almost the entire student body has remained in addition to the guests and Harry is by no means happy about it, the Yule Ball being the reason.
Harry wishes the holidays may never come.
Or rather the Yule Ball may never come.
He has never gone on a date before, he has never danced before (can't dance!) and now he is told to do both at once and that he has no choice in the matter.
It might make for the most miserable Christmas yet and he wonders distantly if unlike the rest of the castle, Professor Allen might actually be someone sharing his annoyance, because for one the teacher is supposedly not a fan of religion, which Christmas decidedly symbolizes, because for another, girls, including those from Beauxbatons, are huddling and giggling in his presence when he passes them in the halls, darting glances at the young teacher, not stopping even in his lessons, the detention it gains them only making them giggle more and blush.
Though all the while the teacher's smile never slips, Harry has the vague impression that the smile is strained and whenever he sees it, the image of a wide, wide grin overlaps, showing just how small the difference is between the two so very opposing expressions, making Harry shudder and desperately question how it is that no one else, not one of the many girls who spent their time watching the teacher and hoping to get invited to the ball, can see the incredible threat lurking beneath. Then he wonders when he has started actively thinking threat.
.
Pretty sure that he has never seen the Great Hall more decorated, Harry still wishes to get out again as fast as possible. As a Champion he is being put into the spotlight, something he could do without, same with listening to Percy talk about his boss and especially the dancing. Frankly, Harry just wants the Ball to be over.
He is probably traumatized for life thanks to it.
By the time the dancing part is over, he is utterly relieved of not having made more a fool of himself and watches still tense but mostly satisfied how other people dance. Cho Chang is dancing with Cedric, Hermione with Victor Krum, the Weasley twins are switching dates, Professor McGonagall has one dance with Ludo Bargman, Hagrid wants to dance with Madame Maxime and Professor Allen dances with a student.
Morbidly he wonders who the unfortunate souls that the professor has chosen as a date, and which woman has been so blind as to accept. He knows the teacher isn't even allowed allowed to go with a student so maybe, Harry sniggers drily to himself, Professor Allen gotten Professor Trelawney out of the north tower just so that he can be entertained by his admires' indignation, the woman annoying other people with her foretelling all the while observing from a distance and dancing with someone else.
Then he takes a closer look at girl currently dancing with him and reconsiders as family is probably excepted from the no-students-as-dates-rule as the youngest student in the Hall, first year Slytherin Rhode Campbell, doesn't show any sign of letting go of Professor Allen any time soon and indeed seems to enjoy lording her hold over him over the other assembled and hopeful girls and women.
Taking a look at the young girl's smile he figures no one wants to try to get her away from the very young teacher either; exactly like two years ago that day in Diagon Alley, her smile is utterly nasty on a completely different level from the usual slytherin-sneers and blindingly innocent when directed at her dance partner. Professor Allen looks mostly just amused and resigned and doesn't show any initiative in getting the girl to let go of him, even after they have stopped dancing, her clinging to his arm like a lost child, though Harry thinks the adjective 'possessive' is much more fitting.
Habitually he considers getting closer to eavesdrop on their conversation, an urge which he is about to follow and which doubles when he sees something that looks a great deal like severity lurk underneath Professor Allen's constant small smile as he talks in low toes with the young girl.
But before he can even get one step closer, Hermione comes to them, looking for refreshments and Ron blows up.
.
As this year turns out to be the busiest yet for Harry, he can honestly say he is surprised when during his late night strolling through Hogwarts he runs into three professors all in one go. First Snape and Moody and then on his way back into Professor Allen, who in contrast to the other two is doing nothing more suspicious or attention warring than standing at a window and staring at the moon.
As usual he has the kind of presence Harry doesn't notice until it's too late and this time he is already half way down the corridor when he finally notices the teacher. Breath halting in his throat, Harry feels the usual chill included in nighttime encounters run down his spine, the thrill of adrenaline, and something drawing him into awareness beyond the usual, because something is different.
The teacher isn't frightening, not in the sense of last year at the lake, not even hair-raising creepy as the first nighttime encounter in first year, more like...something is more real about him and far from a relief, its...horrible in a very different sense.
Weakness, Harry thinks, then banishes the thought before it can take root, because thinking Professor Allen of all has weakness – no, not weakness. Never weakness. What Harry means is softness, warmth, mortality, things every human ought to have somewhere inside them even when they never show it.
To assume that Professor Allen is capable of moments where he lets his guard down is not a mistake he can afford to make, for even now there is nothing weak about him - Harry feels in his bones one misstep and I'm dead, like walking over a frozen lake and knowing that if the ice breaks its over, like running from a basilisk, from Dementors, from the shadows down the hall.
The teacher shows no sign of paying him any attention even as Timcampy flies out from under Harry's cloak, settling on white hair, arranging the strands like a nest. Something uncomfortable swells in Harry when the usual action appears like a gesture of comfort all of a sudden.
Hoping, praying to not be called out (because the Professor has to know he is here), Harry continues along quietly, being very careful with his breath, reminding himself fiercely that while Professor Allen might be more frightening than Voldemort, he is not evil. Punishing Hermione in Harry's stead for undue curiosity is malicious, but something that has been initiated from Harry's side, like pushing and being pushed back. That's different, he knows, but he still can't make his reasoning stop sounding like rationalization.
Later in his bed, with distance faking safety, the teacher's appearance still doesn't leave Harry's head, making him toss from side to side, frustrated and confused as to what it is that has stood out so very differently in the first place until it strikes him like a figurative lightening bolt.
Professor Allen has just been starring at the scythe in the sky, melancholic, and seeming so very, very bone deep and age old sad.
Grieving.
.
Gossip is running wild, lowly or excitedly whispered in classes and the corridors. Harry, Hermione and Ron sit together in the Gryffindor Common room at a time when they are usually supposed to have History, which however is impossible considering that Professor Allen is absent, which incidentally happens to be origin of all gossip.
Knowing how inaccurate rumors are, they don't usually listen, however as Ginny's class has been the one interrupted, they get a version pretty close to the truth.
It wasn't like the incident with the tears last year. Instead ministry officials have come in person to summon him, immediately at that.
Ginny has recognized at least one auror, her tone worried on Professor Allen's behalf, wondering what could possibly have happened that he needed to be escorted, mentioning that the officials had all looked wary, all but with their hands on their wands, looking at Professor Allen with hooded expressions.
Listening to her, Harry can all but see the door to the classroom open unannounced, all heads turning, the young teacher pausing in his lecture to give the intruders one of his blankest and most polite looks, listening as the people made uncomfortable by his stare stutter through their reasons, him closing his notes with movements so deliberate they are pointed, before dismissing the class, walking away with dark faced strangers and the door closing behind him with an air of finality.
Unexpectedly, Harry finds himself concerned as well even though he knows likely better than anyone in this school that Professor Allen does not need to be worried about, that it might be dangerous to even care enough to care, that there is a reason why his imagination painted Professor Allen leaving as though he was getting arrested.
.
Sirius looks better than the last time Harry has seen him, but that is not saying much and Harry wishes it were, though he knows the futility of that thought and pushes it from his mind as the three of them listen to Sirius put the things happening throughout the year into perspective. There are plenty of things that don't make sense still, but they have a better idea what to look for and Harry is amazed what Sirius has been able to find out while being on the run and mostly a dog.
The one thing he hasn't, like apparently everyone else, is Professor Allen, which tells Sirius a lot more than it did Hermione. He says if you can't find out about people's past they usually are very good reasons for it, things that need to be erased, forgotten, wouldn't be approved of and he cautions them about Professor Allen even if the man apparently is sensible enough to see the truth when others aren't, like Sirius being innocent.
"The ministry's got its hands full with the recent killings all over the country and with the political mess of letting other country's people get killed on our borders," Sirius muses darkly between bits of a pumpkin pie, "can't see why they'd bother with a history teacher now unless it's bloody important. Wouldn't be surprised if that guy has a couple skeletons in his closet. Ya know, there's no spell against Dementors besides the Patronus – I'd know. Not with White Magic."
The only thing that seems to mollify Sirius is that Dumbledore is around and has employed the man.
The fact that Professor Allen has been in prime position to harm Harry for years, and that they wouldn't have survived last year without him, that Sirius himself owes the man his life matters, but not much. Moony says the guy gives him the creeps, Sirius reminds them meaningfully, and Moony is rarely wrong.
.
Professor Allen is back to teach them about the Great Goblin Rebellions the very next day, giving no comment at all and looking as unflappable and indifferent as always, his smile perfectly proportioned to calm noisy students. Routine is picked up as smoothly as though it had never been disturbed, blanketing gossip inducing absence so that not even half a week later, everyone seems to have forgotten, oblivious to the implications and ignorant of what it means that Professor Allen can so very easily brush everything into dust and dreams.
Harry observes the phenomenon from as much a mental distance as he can create and as he must create, lest he be swept along and forget what he may not be able to afford to forget. Not once before has Harry been as acutely aware of how gigantic the mountain of secrets hiding behind that innocent and polite facade can truly be.
AN: The second part of Year Four.
Things are changing for Harry, and for Allen too.
Thank you for reading and please be so kind as to leave your thoughts on the way out.
TBC.