A/N: I've had a few reviews saying that the 'sudden' revelation that Meciel refused to kill a human/angel kid was a little rushed. Actually, that was just a recap of from what I declared in DR in chapter one and a few other places. Apparently some of your forgot... ;)
"Are all mortal children as irritating and stupid as the ones that occupy this derelict fortress?" asked Amaris, her soft voice curious as she and Harry strode down one of Hogwart's hallways.
It had only been a few days since she had arrived at Hogwarts, and already the rumour mills had gotten to work. So far, Amaris had been the daughter of everyone from Dumbledore, to "You-Know-Who", to Snape, to Harry himself. Surprisingly, it was the truth that was considered the most unlikely, which Harry attributed as evidence to the notion that irony was the most powerful force in the universe.
Barring himself, all of the above candidates made Harry shudder at the very thought. As if Maeve would ever touch Snape. She'd probably have no trouble in going for Voldemort, considering his power outstretched Harry's own, or Dumbledore- although the old man had seemingly rejected her once before, apparently.
"Generally, no," Harry answered. His lips twisted up into a rueful smile "They're usually much, much worse. Look, just give them a few choice threats, you know, 'I'll break your fucking legs if you so much as breathe in my direction' or 'Do you breathe, and would you like to continue doing so?' and they'll shut up."
"I see," Amaris said, trailing after Harry as he turned a corner. Her long, dark hair whipped behind her as she pattered after him. Harry hadn't been able to find a pair of shoes for her, and doubted that she would want to wear then anyway.
She was a weird kid; he had to give her that.
"What a coincidence," Harry retorted sarcastically. "I can see too."
He was glancing up and down the corridor and then opening up the door to his latest training area. Professor Umbridge had finally clued in on Harry's occupation with the lower areas of the castle, where he frequently used one of the abandoned classrooms to train. She had already found the first classroom he had been using, using it as evidence that students were disobeying her vaunted Educational Decrees and launching an investigation.
"Metaphorically speaking, of course," Amaris answered, with the strange twitch of her lips that indicated a smile.
"Sarcasm beats your logic any day of the week," Harry declared triumphantly, opening the door and glancing inside.
He flicked his fingers and soft silver flames exploded in his open palm, illuminating the room. It was another old and abandoned classroom, full of dust, old spider webs and a cracked blackboard.
"We have no concept of mortal timeframes in the Winter Court," Amaris said, walking inside and sitting down primly on one of the desks. "As such, I am triumphant."
"You mean, 'I win'," Harry corrected absently, turning around and locking the door behind him with his wand.
"That is what I said," Amaris said, with an owlish blink of her eyes.
'No, you said you were triumphant," Harry said, walking to the front of the classroom and eying the desks speculatively. There were only five of them; the rest had probably been moved to a newer classroom.
"They have similar, if not identical, meanings, do they not?" Amaris asked and Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Sure, they mean the same thing but they sound different," he said irritably. "One of them is a short and uncomplicated word, the other is the opposite."
"I am merely displaying my linguistic prowess," Amaris said quietly.
"No, you're merely displaying what other's think is an attitude problem," Harry said. He smiled at her lazily. "It makes them think you think that you're better than them."
"They are mortals," Amaris said disdainfully, her nose wrinkling. "I am better than them. Why should I not show it?"
"Because it makes you seem like a snobby little bitch," Harry declared flatly.
Amaris tilted her head and regarded him curiously.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Not really," Harry said with a shrug. "But if you're trying to stay incognito, it's better if people weren't talking about you all of the time, even if it just to gossip on how much of a bitch you are."
"I understand," Amaris said.
She perched at edge of the desk and peered at Harry inquisitively as he raised his wand, banishing one of the sturdy wooden desks to the middle of the room. An instant later, a streak of shimmering pale-blue light blasted forward and the desk stiffened and froze, a loud cracking noise echoing in the classroom as ice crept over the wooden surface.
"In honour of the Winter Court," Harry said dryly.
"We thank you," Amaris replied evenly.
"Wait," Harry said quickly, spinning around and pinning Amaris with a disbelieving smile. "Did you just make a sarcastic jibe?"
"No," Amaris said, looking faintly puzzled.
"Oh," Harry said slowly. He shrugged. "Never mind then."
"I have noticed that you seem to display many paranoid tendencies," Amaris commented as Harry turned back to the frozen desk, releasing it from the spell with a wave of his wand. "For example, you are constantly assessing the number and nature of people around you. I have seen it many times already. You are also here, alone, practicing offensive spells in the darkness. Why do you do that?"
"I may be paranoid, but it doesn't mean that I don't have a big penis," Harry declared. He paused and frowned. "I think that's how it goes."
"Very…wise," Amaris said slowly. "Is that why you come here? To further lengthen the size of your penis? I was not aware that it worked for wand-wielding mortals like that."
"That was a joke, Amaris," Harry deadpanned. "Remember what I told you about jokes?"
"Ah, yes," Amaris said. "My apologies."
"Right, whatever," Harry said. "Paranoia helps, you know. A wise man once said 'If a lifetime of paranoia saves you once, then…good for you.'"
"The words of a mortal philosopher?" Amaris queried.
"No, I said it about three seconds ago," Harry said, looking pleased with himself. Amaris' face didn't change and Harry rolled his eyes. "Paranoia helps. It keeps you alive and- Amaris, look out behind you!"
Amaris' eyes widened at the expression of true panic on Harry's face as he raised his wand, a blur of magic shooting over her shoulder faster than she could move. She whirled around as the light flashed past her, green and scarlet orbs of faerie power pooling in her tiny hands as she prepared to deliver a mighty blow upon….absolutely nothing at all.
She heard a chuckle and turned around to see Harry sniggering, a gleeful smile stretching from one side of his face to the other as he shook his head in amusement.
"I can't believe you fell for that," Harry crowed a few moments later, his face red with amusement as his laugh died away.
"You are-how do the mortals put it?" Amaris mused. "Ah, yes," she pointed at Harry seriously. "You are a git, father."
"Ouch," Harry winced. "Bringing out the 'F' word. That's low," giving her a thump on the shoulder. He was quick to move his hand away, and turned back to the desk, readying his wand for another spell.
"So, why are you here?" He asked casually, reducing one of the tables into pile of twisted and splintered wood with a well-cast effodio.
"You said that I was allowed to accompany you as long as I 'stayed out of the damn way' and 'don't get your head blown off'," Amaris answered simply. As Harry rolled his eyes, she continued. "However, if your question is referring to a broader sense, then I am here because you had sex and impregnated my mother."
Harry choked and stumbled during mid-spell. He turned to Amaris with a strangely disturbed expression.
"How old are you again?" He asked wryly.
"Eight," Amaris responded.
"Right," Harry muttered. "I keep forgetting."
"You did ask me," Amaris pointed out.
"I meant, why are you here…as in, why did you stay here? At Hogwarts?" Harry clarified. "What are you getting out of this?"
"I stayed because Mother ordered it," Amaris said, puzzled, as if there could be no better reason. "And I expect I will obtain nothing of significance for the duration of my stay here."
Harry sighed.
"What the hell is Fawkes up to?" He mused softly. "Why this?"
"Summer Fae are notoriously manipulative," Amaris pointed out and there was a sharp edge to her voice, something Harry had never heard before. "On a cursory glance, they seem to be more approachable and likable to mortals. But they are manipulative and meddlesome, where we are honest and up-front with our feelings."
"You'll just jab a dagger into their chests, while Summer makes somebody else do it for them," Harry translated.
"In a sense, yes," Amaris said with a strange, little smile.
Harry shook his head in amusement, turning back to one of the desks and lifting his wand. With an elaborate flourish, he summoned a roaring wave of fire and hurled it forward. The desk exploded in a cacophony of heat and light, and Harry grinned, feeling quite satisfied.
"There's nothing like blowing something up for the hell of it," he said, with a grin plastered across his face. He glanced at Amaris, who was frowning as if pondering something.
"Father, may I ask you for something?" She spoke up a few moments later.
"You can ask," Harry said lazily, lowering his wand. "I probably won't say yes, but sure, ask away."
"Very well," Amaris said. "I wish for you to hug me."
"Whoa, what?" Harry exclaimed, quickly taking a step back. "Where's this coming from?" He glanced around and then gazed down at his daughter with narrowed eyes. "Did Amanda put you up to this? She's not here yet, is she? I bet she is- come out brat, before I make you come out."
"The blonde mortal has not asked me to do anything," Amaris said, tilting her head and peering at Harry curiously. "Indeed, she seems to be quite intimidated by me. I do not see why you bother to amuse yourself with her acquaintance."
"She's got some power behind her, and I've saved her life a few times," Harry said with a shrug. "She owes me. It means she'll be useful in the future- well, as useful as any normal witch can be."
He pronounced the last word as if it was something to be less-than-desired.
"Regardless," Amaris said, focusing on her question. She gazed up at Harry with her solemn eyes. "I want a hug."
"Okay…I'm gonna have to ask why?" Harry drawled a moment later. He was suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable.
"Because I wish to ascertain their function," Amaris answered.
"People use them to….express…er…caring?" Harry struggled, and paused. "Lets just say it's a sporting thing," he concluded.
"Sometimes, yes," Amaris conceded. "I have seen mother engage in a hug with several of her partners…"
"Your mother lets you watch?" Harry interrupted in surprise.
"She says it's educational," Amaris replied smoothly.
"That one's got problems," Harry muttered.
"But there are other times when a so-called hug lacks any sporting sentiment behind them," Amaris finished, a pouting frown on her face. "I do not understand it, I really do not."
"Whatever," Harry sighed but shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, why the hell not?" He took a step forward and paused. "You're not going to zap me, are you? That includes all your little fae spells as well."
"No," Amaris answered quietly, looking pleased.
"Swear by it?" Harry pressed.
"Yes," said Amaris.
"Okay," Harry said. He frowned bent down to wrap his arms around his daughter, giving her a quick, millisecond hug. An instant later, he backed away hurriedly. "Satisfied?"
"A few more moments longer, if you please," Amaris said.
Harry rolled his eyes and hugged her again. It was harder to tell who was the most tense, Amaris or Harry himself. Gradually, however, Amaris began to slowly relax.
"Interesting," she mused.
She moved her arm behind his neck, much to Harry's chagrin, who was starting to feel more than a little uneasy. Just as he was about to break away, Amaris laid her head on his shoulder in a perfect display of father-daughter bonding.
Then she nibbled on his ear.
"What the hell!" Harry spluttered and yanked himself from Amaris, her teeth still on his earlobe. Amaris blinked as Harry stumbled away, desperately feeling at his ear and gazing down at Amaris with shock. "What the hell was that?"
"I was trying to convey affection as I have seen my mother do so," Amaris said quietly. She frowned and looked worried. "Did I do it wrong?"
"Right, I'm going to leave now," said Harry, his voice low and even. "When you're done in here, get back to the Tower…and, yeah."
He quickly spun around and practically bolted from the room, leaving a bemused half-fae staring at his back. Amaris tilted her head at his departure.
"He is a strange one," she mused out loud.
A few moments later, the door opened and the blonde mortal walked in, a bright smile on her face. Amaris paused at the sight of her, trying to see what her father saw in the girl.
"Oh," Amanda said slowly, awkwardly. "Amaris. I…er…was expecting Harry."
"He left a short while ago," Amaris said quietly.
"And he left you alone?" Amanda asked, sounding scandalized. She eyed Amaris with softness in her eyes, something that Amaris found both curious and repulsive.
Mortal emotions; as disgusting as they were intriguing.
"I…" Amaris started, considering Amanda carefully. After a moment, she concluded that perhaps the mortal would be the best to help her. "I tried to express my affection with a hug. It did not go so well. I do not believe he is used to affection."
"Oh, Amaris," Amanda said sympathetically- yet another strange emotion. She reached down and squeezed Amaris' hand in what she thought was a comforting manner.
Amaris withheld the natural instinct to destroy the foreign intrusion against her flesh and gazed down at the gesture curiously.
"You hang in there," Amanda said softly. "Be persistent. Harry's…well, he's cold, but he's not made of stone. You'll break though one day, and he'll lighten up."
"I understand," said Amaris. As Amanda smiled, Amaris tilted her head curiously. "Perhaps you can enlighten me. What is the purpose of clasping hands like this?"
"Maeve, you are a kinky bitch," Harry muttered to himself as he stalked through the hallway.One of the portraits eyed him curiously as he strode past, and stroked his long beard thoughtfully
'Your daughter is quite odd,' Meciel said, and Harry could hear the amusement in her voice.
"Well, she doesn't get it from me," Harry grumbled.
'I agree,' Meciel said. 'The Fae are not human, no matter how well the Sidhe can take human form. I am not talking about biological differences, I am talking about psychological and emotional changes as well. For Amaris, however, she is both human and Fae until she makes her decision and embraces one side of her heritage. She can become a High Sidhe of the Winter Fae, like her mother, or…'
"A regular human being, like her dear old dad," Harry finished out loud. He snorted derisively. "Please, it's not hard to see what she's going to pick, if she hasn't picked already."
'She hasn't,' Meciel said quietly. 'To choose a side means completely disowning another. Had she chosen her Fae side, she would lose any little expressions of human emotion. Alternatively, had she chosen her human side, she wouldn't be able to wield her powers.'
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking here?" Harry said grimly.
'Perhaps,'Meciel said. 'If Amaris chooses her human half over her Fae side, then not only would be it a blow against Winter with the loss of a potential successor to the throne of the Winter Lady, but Fawkes would gain a personal victory over Maeve.'
"Probably both," Harry said, turning a corner. "I got the sense that Fawkes and Maeve really didn't like each other, and it was more than the normal Winter/Summer rivalry. "
'Had they the chance, I have no doubt they would battle each other until one was dead,' Meciel agreed.
"Maeve's smart enough not to put her personal feelings in the way of the interests of the Winter Court," Harry said, as he turned a corner. He almost barged right into a tall dark-haired boy, who hurriedly side-stepped as Harry went past. "She doesn't have the balls to start a war against Summer- not at the moment, at least."
The boy that Harry had strode past was scowling at him and muttered something under his breath, a sneering flickering across his face. A normal human would have barely picked anything up, but Harry whirled around, meeting the Slytherin's haughty gaze with an irritated scowl.
"What was that?" He demanded.
To his credit, the Slytherin didn't back down and met Harry's scowl with a superior smirk.
"I was just saying that maybe you really are as crazy as the papers say you are," the boy answered lazily. Harry vaguely remembered him as loop or knot or tie; he was sure it had something to do with rope.
"The papers say I'm crazy?" Harry asked in honest surprise. The most he used the Daily Prophet for was wiping away a puddle of spilt pumpkin juice away from his plate at breakfast.
"Oh, yeah," the Slytherin said viciously, smirking at Harry's surprised look. "They think you're a nut-job, an attention-seeking prat who's making up rumours about the Dark Lord because he's bored, or because he's a dark wizard as well. Your name is synonymous with insane, spoiled, arrogant and lazy."
"You agree with them," Harry said flatly.
"Maybe," the other boy said, a smile twisting at his lips.
"I am not lazy, you know," Harry said defensively. He paused and scratched his head. "Can't say much about the first three, although, it's not arrogance if you're really better than everybody else. As for insane, well," Harry smiled chillingly and leant forward. "I have a voice in my head telling me to hurt you, right now. Does that make me insane?"
'I said no such thing,' Meciel said crossly, a teasing edge to her voice. 'I think you're misrepresenting my interests, Harry. Perhaps I should hire a new agent.'
"I'll introduce you to my spleen," Harry said dryly, leaning back. The other boy blinked, looking confused. "He's good at talking, really, he never shuts up. Perfect organ for the job."
The Slytherin shook his head in disgust.
"You really are insane," he said.
"You think that, huh?" Harry asked aggressively.
Perhaps he was a bit too aggressive, because the Slytherin sensed trouble on the horizon and dove his hand into his robes. Harry waited till the last second, then his arm blurred as he brandished his wand forward and sent a scarlet jet of light right into the boy's chest. The boy was thrown aside, his wand ripped from his hand and clattering to the ground. A moment later, Harry whipped his wand over the other student with a vicious grin.
"Presenting for all you folks that live in my head and make me insane, the fantastical, human basketball!" Harry crowed loudly.
The Slytherin gave a loud scream as an invisible force grappled onto his leg and lifted him up into the air. A flick of Harry's wand sent the boy shooting off down the corridor, a grin on Harry's face as he listened to the Slytherin's desperate cries for help.
"Wait!" Harry said loudly, power rushing through his veins. With another flick of his wand, the boy soared back down the corridor towards Harry. "Is it…can it be? It is!"
He whipped his wand up and the Slytherin shot towards the ceiling. A moment later, Harry broke the spell.
"Slam dunk!" Harry exclaimed, tilting his head up. He frowned.
The Slytherin was clutching one of the beams, a terrified expression on his face. Something tumbled from his pocket and fell to the ground a few seconds later and shattering, and the boy swallowed, tightening his grip on the wooden beam.
"Let me down!" He said shrilly.
"Well, I'd like to," Harry called back cheerfully. "But I'm spoiled and lazy, so I can't be bothered raising my wand. However, I'm also arrogant, so if you stroke my ego enough and make me think I'm the only one that can help you, I just might."
The boy remained stubbornly silent, although Harry hadn't been expecting anything else. He had noticed that while some Slytherin's lacked the cunning and slyness that was supposedly their dominative traits, they more than made up with it with their arrogance and pride.
Harry would have made a great Slytherin, he thought.
"Harry!" Somebody called.
Harry turned his head to see that Amanda was quickly striding towards him. Amaris followed behind her, looking strangely hesitant.
"Harry, why did you leav-" Amanda started. She stopped, gazed up and the ceiling and gasped at the sight of the Slytherin. "Harry! What are you doing?"
"Exercising," Harry said blandly.
"Let him down," Amanda said with a groan. When Harry didn't move, she whipped out her wand and silently cast a spell.
The Slytherin was yanked from the ceiling and gently drifted down to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was moving, only stopping to pick up his wand before dashing back towards the dungeons.
"You can be such a bully," Amanda said crossly. "What sort of example do you think you're setting for Amaris?"
"I am aware of your violent tendencies," Amaris spoke up quietly. "Mother has relayed much information to me about him."
"Mother?" Amanda repeated. She frowned. Although she knew more than most of the other students- she was aware that Amaris was a Fae, and that Maeve had something to do with it, she wasn't aware that Harry was Amaris' father. "Hang on, I thought she was- the Winter Lady is your mother?"
"Yes," Amaris answered her. The little girl turned her head back to Harry.
"So, what'dya think of what you had seen?" Harry asked lazily.
"I have watched you extensively," Amaris started slowly. She looked like she was taking her time in gathering her thoughts.
'That's kinda creepy,' Harry thought.
'What did you expect?' Meciel asked.
"From what I have seen, I believe I have gathered enough information to accurately create a personality profile," Amaris started. She gestured at Harry and Amanda listened with interest.
"You…are a cruel, sarcastic and snide teenager, whose proficiency at wand-wielding is only enhanced by the symbiotic bond you share with the Denarian, Meciel," Amaris started. "You are needlessly immature and childish, take great amusement in the painful misfortunes of those around you and enjoy participating in battles that you are confident you can win."
"Well, yeah," Harry said after a few moments, scratching his head. "But I would have said it differently."
"You forgot to mention his constant fixation on sex," Amanda said wryly.
"You do know that if you offered to sport with him, he would not say no?" Amaris said curiously. "He is most keen on…exercising, if you will."
Harry choked and none-to-gently tapped her on the head, while Amanda let out am exasperated growl.
"Somebody has to tell me what that means!" She snapped. When Harry and Amaris didn't comment, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, Harry, there's a…" she paused to look around. "DA meeting on tonight. Can you come in and show us some more stuff?"
"Alright," Harry said casually. Amanda gave him a beaming smile and then was off, leaving Harry and Amaris alone in the corridor.
"You acquiesced rather quickly," Amaris noted. "From what I have observed, you do not enjoy socially interacting with your peers."
"Ah, Amaris, let me tell you something about minions," Harry started lazily, throwing his arm around his small daughter's shoulder. "They're only as good as you make them. Think of it like a garden. If you don't tend to it enough, it'll die and become worthless. If you tend to it too much, you're wasting precious time that could be used to clean your toe-nails or something. But, if you tend to it just enough, they'll grow by themselves and will soon become weeds that'll piss off people who like gardens."
"I understand," Amaris said, using the tone that Harry had identified as when she didn't understand. He was right. "Am I to understand that mortal children are flora in nature?"
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Alright," Harry called out loudly. He stood in the Room of Requirement, pacing in front of the DA (although he still didn't actually know what that stood for- he was assuming Dork Alliance or something.)
'Dork Alliance? How…creative,' Meciel murmured in amusement.
'Hey, I suck with acronyms, alright?' Harry thought defensively.
'I suppose I should be impressed that you actually know what the word 'acronym' means,' Meciel mused.
"By now, most of you know a few spells," Harry said, giving Meciel one last prod with his mind and focusing his attention on the students. He paused and scratched his head. "Sure, most of the spells are little pissy-girls spells that I wouldn't be caught dead using, but they could still be useful in a fight…maybe….if you were trying to beat up a baby or something."
"We get it," Ron sighed loudly, trading an exasperated look with a dark-skinned wizard that Harry recognized as a fifth year from his dorm, although he had never spoken to him before.
"I'm just saying," Harry placated, raising his hands in a placating manner, but smiling wolfishly at the titters and grumbles of the twenty-five strong group.
"Was there a point?" Hermione asked sourly.
Harry had heard that she had been scheduled to tutor the DA before Amanda had arranged for him to come in, so she was holding some hard feelings over that. Harry hadn't pegged her for a power-hungry bitch, but he supposed it was always the prudish ones.
"How about you shut up?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at her in annoyance.
"How about no?" Hermione shot back sarcastically.
"Look, do you want to get up here and teach these brats?" Harry began.
"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed furiously, stamping her foot on the ground and folding her arms over her chest. Her vehement declaration made Harry pause in surprise.
"Well…you can't," Harry finally uttered. "Because…I'm up here…"
"Well said," Amaris interjected quietly. Harry glanced over his shoulder, seeing the small half-fae sitting on a desk and swinging her legs back and forth as she gazed over the classroom with expressionless eyes. Sometimes it was hard to tell when she was being sarcastic- or insincere, she still hadn't gotten the hang of sarcasm yet.
"As I was saying, before some rude bitch interrupted me…" Harry tried again, but was interrupted once more.
"Do you always have to swear, Harry?" Amanda sighed.
"There we go again," Harry snapped, jabbing his finger at Amanda. "Why don't you shut the hell up and let me…"
"Hey, she was only asking a question," one of the Sixth Year Gryffindors muttered, a tall, lithe girl with streaked blonde hair and an athletic figure- one of the Quidditch players. Harry recalled debating with himself whether or not to go and watch one of the Qudditch matches, just to see the three delectable chasers getting all sweaty.
"I…" Harry started.
"Just shut up and let him speak," somebody snapped from the back row, a Ravenclaw male. "You know how he gets when he starts throwing one of his tantrums…"
"Tantrums?" Harry repeated icily, but was largely ignored.
"Tantrums?" Amanda echoed, at almost the same time. She rounded on the boy. "Shut up, Michael! You don't know what you're talking about!"
"I know what I see," Michael retorted.
Suddenly, the small group was rife with argument and noise. Harry saw Hermione try to calm everybody down, but it seemed as if tensions were running high and this was the tumbling block for it all. He saw more than a few hands going for their wands as he stood on the podium above them, before he had finally had enough and raised his wand.
"Bitchium Slapatius!" He roared, focusing his will and Hellfire into his wand. The air rippled and suddenly there were twenty-five cries of pain as an invisible force lashed out against everybody's cheek to deliver a wave of slaps across the face.
Everybody turned to him, identical expressions of outrage on their faces. Harry gave them a wintry smile, his wand twirling casually in his hand.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice oozing with insincerity. "You know how I can get when I throw a tantrum," He saw the Ravenclaw boy flush and smiled, "Now, if you're all done having yourtantrums, I'd kindly like for you to shut the hell up!"
The last words came out as a roar and many of them flinched as Harry's wand spewed out a wave of crackling sparks.
"I do have my tantrums," Harry mused, satisfied that he had captured the attention of everybody in the room. Even Amaris was looking interested as he watched on silently. "Like, there was this one time, when I had this tantrum- it was right after Voldemort kidnapped me," he smirked when he saw many of them flinch, "Yeah, he kidnapped me, murdered Krum and then resurrected himself into an avatar of pure darkness. I threw a massive tantrum then; I was just so pissed off at everything, so I just slaughtered my way through his servants, just killing them with the powerful spells I knew. Do you know how I managed to do that?"
Many of them shook their heads silently.
"Well, I remembered back when I was the student- when I was in your position- and I remembered what I did," Harry said softly. He gave the group a very pointed look. "I remember that I didn't talk when my teacher was telling me ways to save my life! I remember that I didn't interrupt the teacher as she tried to impartnecessary survival skills! What I remember, is that I shut up, paid attention and did what I was fucking told!"
'Most of the time,' Meciel added.
"So, if you're all done bitching, kindly shut the hell up and listen," Harry finished. He gave them a sweet smile. "Any questions?"
Not a single student moved, and then Amanda slowly raised her hand. Harry turned his head and gazed down at her silently.
"Bitchium Slapatius?" Amanda repeated slowly, giving him a careful glance. "Is that…even a real spell?"
"No, I just made the words up. It's my way of magically bitch-slapping people who are pissing me off," Harry said dryly. "Any important questions, like 'How can I give CPR to the person who just collapsed next to me?' or 'Is it the red wire of the blue wire?' No? Good."
He lowered his wand and placed it back in his robes.
"As I was saying," he started. "You know a few spells, whoop-de-fucking-doo. You could know all of the spells from the beginning of time till right this very moment, and I could still guarantee that you'd get your arse kicked in a battle. Do you want to know why?"
They nodded.
"It's because you have no idea how to fight," Harry said, thumping his hand on his palm. "Sure, you can throw around all your spells and if you're lucky, you might hit something. Might, just like I 'might' give you all a thousand galleons?"
"Really?" Ron asked obliviously.
"Weasley, you have met me before, right?" Harry asked scornfully. "We're not just meeting for the first time here, are we? Because if we were, I could get how you would ask such a stupid question. No, of course I'm not giving you my money. I'm a cheap, spoiled bastard. You should know that by now."
"Oh," Ron said slowly.
"Do you want us to practice our aiming or something?" Amanda asked contemplatively.
"Sort of," Harry said. "Back in the old days, when muggles thought that throwing rocks at each other was cool, ancient warlocks pretty much had a bitch-fest and decided to kill each other. They created a few battle-formations that might come in handy for you lot. You don't have a lot of skill, but you do have numbers, and that'll work for you. It requires teamwork, which is good for weaklings like yourself, and co-ordination, so you'll need to practice a lot."
"Wait a moment," Hermione said as the students around her muttered to each other in awe and anticipation. "I remember reading about this sort of thing. Didn't Warlock strategies become obsolete after apparition was discovered?"
"Yep," Harry said cheerfully. "It was a bit of a nasty surprise for them- I think it was the French who were on the receiving end. There they were, standing in their nice little formations, with their enemies just popping up and down the battlefield and breaking through their lines. It pretty much won England the war of 684 AD."
"How will it be useful to us now?" Hermione asked haughtily. "If you don't recall, we still have apparition."
"And if you don't recall, we also have something called anti-apparition wards," Harry snapped. "Like, this castle, the one you live in for most of the year- the one where you'll probably see fighting before you graduate."
"Hogwarts is safe!" one of the other students protested, looking unsettled.
"Right," Harry drawled sarcastically. "It's not like anybody's ever been, oh, stabbed, or something here."
Eyes flickered towards Amanda, who flushed but straightened her shoulders as determination washed over her face. Perhaps it was the reminder of just why she had wanted to become a more powerful witch or perhaps she was just as sick of the arguing students as Harry was, but she cut through the chatter with a curt tone.
"Alright, Harry, what do you need us to do?"
"Well," Harry started, assessing the students in front of him. "We'll work in blocks of six. Two crouch down with your wands extended. You'll be shielding, deflecting and blocking anything the enemy sends at you. Another two of you, stand a pace back, with your wands over their heads. You're the general spell-casters. Charms, jinxes, hexes, whatever you can throw at them, do it. The last two, stand a little behind the first line but duck in before the last. You're the ward-breakers. If the enemy has a shield up, you smash it down with a shield-piercer or a heavy-powered spell. If you don't know any, Amanda can show you."
The students scurried as Harry barked orders at them, gesturing for them to move into position as he fed them instructions.
"Now, you guys need to be able to move quickly. I doubt any of you have the power or skill to block some of the more potent curses the Death Eaters might use, especially the killing curse. If one of them uses that, get the hell out of the way but stay together! And for the love of whatever pansy-god, don't let them surround you. Always have your back up to something- but make sure you have a way out. You don't want to box yourself in, especially if you're going to lose. Come on, hop to it!"