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5
Defense, as opposed to Defense
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Hufflepuff Fourth-Year Cedric Diggory, of the Noble House of Diggory, was looking forward to his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the year, for multiple reasons.
It was his Fourth Year, the year before OWLs and Prefect selection, and he was set on excelling at both; as a popular member of his House, both on and off the Quidditch Pitch, becoming Prefect was all-but assured, while OWLs…
Well, that led to the next reason he was excited for the coming class: Hunter Lenore Black, slayer of Godelot the Reviled, would not only be teaching this year, but a rumor was floating around – at the Ministry, where Cedric's father worked – that the curse on the DADA position was finally lifted.
He wasn't the only one ready for a competent professor at last, either; Craig Dunn, Brendon Halkirk, Grace Nutley, and Gladys Prescott, Cedric's fellow 4[th-years, were all excited to learn from the infamous Hufflepuff alumnus, whose name was tacked on the Wall of Success in the Hufflepuff Common Room.
The only subtitle, aside from her then-record-setting 9 NEWTs and the defeat of Godelot, was that Lenore Black became a "Hunter", but no one really knew what that meant, the Hogwarts Library having precious little on the subject.
Or, at least, nobody outside a Noble House or Ravenclaw really knew; while Cedric's family was… depleted, after the War, they kept up their library, and his father, Amos, loved talking about Diggory family history. But on the Hunters, there was little to say…
"They're the ones who get called in when Aurors and Hit-Wizards aren't enough. Even though a few members of our family joined an Order here or there, we didn't need them for You-Know-Who."
As for the Ravenclaws, well, Cedric had a few friends in that House, and their common room was more like a hoard of knowledge that went back to Hogwarts' founding. If the knowledge existed, odds were it was in Ravenclaw Tower.
Honestly, Cedric's only complaint was that they were sharing the class with the Slytherins, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws; yes, their year wasn't the biggest by far, but he'd liked the smaller class sizes. They ensured a lack of chaos due to Gryffs and Snakes rubbing shoulders. Fortunately, Adrian Pucey, who always finished in the bottom half academically since he was a firstie, seemed to be paying some attention to the teacher's desk, even though the Professor had yet to arrive. The Weasley Twins were likewise on their best behavior, which probably had more to do with the Howler their mother sent their younger brother yesterday, than any actual desire to behave.
The lungs on that woman…
Even so, Cedric figured it was more the racks of weapons behind the Professor's desk, or the red upholstered, high-backed wooden chair carved to look like flames; those things were likely holding his rowdier classmates back from any prank attempts, as opposed to any actual academic curiosity or their mother's chiding. Sure, Professor Black was severe-looking, but so were Professor Snape and Mr. Filch, and they only curtailed the chaos a little.
Glancing around, as there was still a few minutes before class officially began, Cedric noted a few things about the DADA classroom: a red curtain hung behind a mobile blackboard on the left of the desk, shifting as though a breeze touched it, so there was likely another room there, and a door was directly behind the desk, nestled between the weapon racks; the Professor's quarters, Cedric figured. Dark red curtains hung on the windows, which were letting in little light, what with the cloudy weather outside, the room's candles easily providing more illumination. Jars with odd contents and books cluttered the shelves that covered the wall to the right of the desk, but Cedric couldn't make out what they were or contained; no doubt they'd be enlightened about those odds and ends over the course of the year.
Well, assuming Professor Black wasn't anything like Quirrel, anyway.
Suddenly, almost one minute after class was supposed to have begun, the door to the Professor's office slammed open, making a few people jump or squeak in fright, followed by Professor Black herself, the woman visibly unhappy as strode to stand next to her desk, near the mobile blackboard.
"Sorry, class, I was just having a rather heated conversation with a student's parent about measured discipline. But enough about that," she gave Fred and George a suspicious look, making the twins stiffen, then addressed the class as a whole, hands clasped behind her back, "For those of you who are still unaware, I am Lenore Black, last Hunter of the Silver Crescent Order, and your Professor for the coming year at least. I am an ordained Knight of Great Britain, have received the Order of Merlin First Class twice, and am famous amongst lore-delvers of Hufflepuff House due to my attaining 9 Outstanding NEWTs, a record that was held until the Headmaster broke it. But enough about my life," she smiled, and it was an honestly warm thing, "let us talk of this class and what we shall be doing in it."
'Straight to business, then,' Cedric got ready to take notes as the Professor… flicked a hand at the rolling blackboard next to the desk; it flipped over to reveal bolded words written in chalk:
Magical Self Defense
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Defense Against the Dark Arts
"I will be brief: the first of these subjects, Magical Self Defense is what you will learn, under either me or any other competent Professor, up until you attain your OWL. To summarize what you will be learning this year, Magical Self Defense encompasses the following studies: defense against magical creatures, how to combat certain lively magical plants, and how to non-lethally subdue untrained or unruly magical and mundane humans. Ideally, a student who wishes to attend my NEWT-level classes should aspire to accomplish the last with or without a wand, and be passable in at least three forms of self-defense," Professor Black's gaze flicked over the classroom before she asked dryly, "Why aren't some of you writing this down?"
Quills began scratching immediately, but one hand rose into the air: Roger Davies.
"Professor? If that's the case, why is this class called Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
She didn't miss a beat, "Because the people who changed the name of this class in the late 1700s were complete dunderheads, Mr. Davies." The Professor allowed a few chuckles before continuing, "To summarize once more: prior to the Statute of Secrecy, the class you are currently attending would have been called Magical Self Defense, and would encompass much more than simple wandwork and… whatever else your previous instructors felt was needed. Most garden-variety magical creatures, plants, and whatever other, common, dangers you might face in your day-to-day as witches and wizards would've been extensively covered; I will do my best to ensure you all become at least competent in that regard, as simply being in the magical world means you will likely have to deal with some kind of bothersome magical pest or vegetable, either in your home or as part of your career.
"On the other side of the fence, Defense Against the Dark Arts is just that: an advanced, NEWT-level class where you learn of, and how to defend yourself against, the forces of Darkness. Due to the sensitive nature of that class' criteria, after this year I will only be accepting NEWT students who have achieved Exceeds Expectations or higher grades on their Defense OWL; this year, I have only accepted 6th or 7th year students with Outstanding grades, and for good reason," the Professor informed the class severely, "That class is not for the faint of heart, as I will be training those students how to defend against the true threats plaguing our world not to British Ministry standard, but to the ICW's standard. Demonkind, Apostates, Necromancers, and… other existential threats to humanity fall into the category of 'The Dark Arts'."
Professor Black's gaze suddenly became forbidding and cold, the woman seeming to loom over them all, despite being a couple fingers shorter than the Weasley Twins. Regardless, both redheads visibly shivered, and Cedric himself felt frozen in his seat as a pressure descended on the entire class.
"On that note, class, let me be extremely clear: what the British Ministry views as Dark is not necessarily what the ICW views as Dark. Whether aiming for an OWL or NEWT in this class, I expect you all to study and understand the relevant international laws regarding Dark magic, as those will be the guidelines this class operates on. The reason being: I am a Hunter, and we take every potential threat to humanity very seriously. For instance: the most recent Dark Lord on these isles was not interfered with because your leaders were either kissing that necromancer's robe hem, were attempting to compromise international security while under the Imperius Curse, or refused international assistance out of some misguided sense of superiority. If they'd gone to the international community with an honest plead for aid in dealing with the up-himself little catamite, Voldemort would have been offed inside a week, and this is not estimation on my part.
"This is fact, based on what I know of the still-extant Hunter Orders. We Hunters are extremely proficient at our jobs. Herpo the Foul, Emeric the Evil, and Godelot the Reviled; all of these infamous Dark Lords were slain by the Hunter Orders. Yet for each of these dastardly villains there are one hundred no one will ever hear tell of, because a Hunter, an Auror, or a Hit-Wizard intervened on humanity's behalf, stopped the threat before it could darken the light of day.
"So if you seek a NEWT from this class," the pressure vanished, the smile returned, and Cedric released the breath he didn't know he was holding, "know that the 'nastily exhausting' part of the acronym will be literal, as I will teach you how to deal with threats to humanity, from within and without, and will not coddle those unable to keep up with my standards. Otherwise, I only ask that you not goof off in my class, and that you take my teachings seriously. Are we clear, students?"
"Yes Professor." The entire class replied in near-unison, if a little shakily, and not just because Professor Black used You-Know-Who's name without the slightest lick of fear. Cedric was feeling a little floored for one of those alternate reasons; this was well beyond his best expectations. Professor Black didn't seem the type to spend half a semester on Hinkypunks or how to undo prank jinxes.
"Very good," and the Professor turned back to the board, "Now that the formalities are out of the way, let us go over a common and easy way of dealing with most threats to your persons." She gestured at the board again, which flipped…
There were new words on the formerly blank side.
The Duelist's Greeting
"Who can tell me which spells constitute The Duelist's Greeting?" A hand went up, "Mr. Fred Weasley?"
"I'm Geor-"
"No you aren't, you are Fred Weasley." Professor Black's head tilted slightly, squinting at the two Gryff Beaters, "Today, at least. Your answer?"
A few titters, raised eyebrows, and coughs of amusement went through the class, while the Weasley Twins stared at the Professor, clearly confused.
Fred finally seemed to get ahold of himself, "Um… My brother Bill said they were… the Knockback Jinx, the Disarming Charm, and the Stunning Hex."
"Correct. Three points for Gryffindor," Professor Black waved a hand at the board again… and a piece of chalk rose into the air; it wrote out the names of each spell even as the Professor addressed one of Cedric's house-mates, "You have a question, Ms. Prescott?"
Gladys' hand went down, "Are… you doing wandless magic, Professor?"
"Yes." She looked around the stunned faces of the class with a frown, while the chalk continued moving on its own, "Honestly, I don't know why you're all so surprised; it's just a combination of visualizing the Levitation Charm and long practice with meditation. Show of hands, who doesn't know what I'm talking about? One, four- the eight of you, see me for an instruction pamphlet before class is over."
Cedric wondered if his father would be angry if he spent hols at school; maybe if he said it was for a good cause?
He was wondering this, because Professer Black was leagues better than Quirrel or any DADA professor he'd ever had, and they'd barely learned anything yet!
The words on the chalkboard were done, revealing three incantations:
Flippendo
Expelliarmus
Stupefy
"Flippendo, Expelliarmus, Stupefy," Professor Black pointed at each word, fixing the class with a serious gaze, "Knockback, disarm, stun. Say it with me, class- wand away, Mr. Pucey, and if I see it again without prompting it'll be a detention… now, repeat after me: Flippendo, Expelliarmus, Stupefy."
Three times she repeated it, and three times the whole class said it in unison, though Cedric noticed Natalie Selwyn of Slytherin looked really bored.
Until their Professor started talking again.
"This is the oldest spell chain in the world, dating back to the days of the Greek city-states. Five times in Athens' history, these spells won gold at the ancient Olympic Games. Once, it was the deciding chain to win a fight against a fledging demon summoner who would've destroyed most of Africa if allowed to live," she slapped the board with a hand, and kept going, passionate in her lecturing, "This spell chain has saved the lives of countless children, against all manner of common beings; redcap, merrow, goblin, ogre, town drunks believing they've invented a revolutionary spell and are the new Merlin, even servants to actual Dark Lords have been caught off guard by these three spells, so simple even a Firstie could get them off with only a little training.
"Can any of you tell me why?" Professor Black challenged, a glint in her eye, "Why have so many talented-if-misguided witches and wizards fallen to these spells... Mr. Diggory?"
Cedric put his hand down, "Because they're basic. Most magical families teach their children at least one of those spells after they get their wand, while Muggleborn can easily find them in the Charms or Defense sections of the library; and if they don't learn them there, odds are they'll pick them up in a prank book somewhere. Most adult wizards wouldn't expect them, unless they were really experienced... or not stupid."
"Never found Expelliarmus in a prank book," one of the Twins said thoughtfully.
"A standard Charms textbook these days can double as one, Mr. George Weasley, as I fail to see the utility of making a teacup dance, other than as entertainment," Professor Black pointed out; the Twins glanced at each other, shrugged in unison, and nodded to their teacher, who smiled at Cedric, "And five points to Hufflepuff for a complete answer. Now, onto why we are discussing these basic spells, and why I want you to memorize them: it is because, at the end of this year, your final exam will be to cast all three silently."
Cedric gaped, and he wasn't the only one; she wanted them to learn silent casting?!
"Uh, Professor?" one of the Slytherins – Martell or something – raised his hand shakily, "Ain't silent casting NEWT-level?"
"No, that is simply the standard to which it is currently held. To clarify," she went on, pacing before her desk but keeping her eyes on them all, "silent casting is what happens when a witch or wizard becomes intimately familiar with how a specific spell forms. It is usually one that they use on a regular basis; for instance, most adult wizards learn to silent cast Repairing and Transfiguration spells that they use often around the house, or at their job. They know the incantation forward and backward; the wand motions are trivial to them; the formation of magic in the body, its channeling from core to arm to wand, and the intent giving the spell focus... all of these are easy as breathing.
"That, class, is your challenge for the year," Professor Black came to a halt before her desk and leaned casually against it, smiling at them with challenge writ into her every feature, "These three spells, Flippendo, Expelliarmus, Stupefy, you will endeavor to know them as closely as you know the feel of your wand in your hand. Mouth the words silently in your sleep; study the history of each spell and its creation; work together in groups, or alone – though you'll find a group might help. However you do it, remember this: if at any time in this year before exams you manage to form and cast all three spells silently, you will immediately be given a pass for this year's Defense exam and earn 50 points for your House."
As if they didn't have enough incentive already; now, everyone, even the infamously lazy Selwyn girl, would be working their ass off to get that prize. A shared glance with his House-mates assured Cedric that there would be a meeting in the Common Room after the day's classes.
Most of the remaining time in the double period consisted of Professor Black lining them up and having them vocally cast the spell chain… at her.
There was the incentive of getting a point for their House for a successful cast, or an immediate exemption from class for the year if they could successfully get past her defenses, but Cedric doubted anyone would actually manage that latter one.
(no one did)
However, right as Fred Weasley was getting told off for trying to sneak a Dancing Hex in the place of the Disarming Charm, an explosion sounded from across the hall, and suddenly things got very exciting.
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Five minutes into Gilderoy Lockhart's class, Draco Malfoy knew the year was going to be even worse than the last one – trip into the Forbidden Forest and the thing he and Potter ran into notwithstanding.
While his mother and godfather instructing him to pretend it didn't happen was slightly sound, as it helped the nightmares a little, the fact that Potter came out of it without a scratch did interest Draco somewhat. Not enough to extend an olive branch to the belligerent ass and his weasel friend, of course – he had standards, after all – but enough to bribe Tracey Davis to keep her ear to the ground; she and Granger weren't as discrete in their library meetings as they thought. A little gold and a few carefully-worded not-threats, and any word about Potter's escapades would no-doubt reach his ears; but back to Defense class, or what the fop known as Lockhart thought passed for such.
Oh, how Draco wished he was a few years older; that way, he would've been placed in Great-Aunt Lenore Black's class, where she was no doubt teaching everyone how to wrestle trolls while blindfolded, or slay demons with nothing but a quill and a prayer.
Anything – except another Quirrel – would've been better than what Draco had just gone through: a quiz on their Professor's personal life, as put forth by the fop's own flowery books.
And then, right when Draco thought things couldn't get any worse, the utter moron revealed an enchanted cage full of Cornish Pixies – Class X threat, individually anyway – and, without teaching the class a single spell, unleashed the whole very angry horde on the 2[sup]nd[/sup] year class.
Which led to the current utter bedlam…
"BOMBARDA!" Potter's incantation was followed by two great crashes, one of the spell smashing the chandelier's chain apart, the other being the chandelier crashing to the ground, plus one scratched-up Longbottom. Weasley – who wasn't bad with a wand that actually worked, Draco had to admit – got the poor sod out of there while Granger, Bones, Finch-Fletchety and Cornfoot kept most of the little bastards at bay with repeated Immobulous Charms, ostensibly taught through a rapid explanation by Granger.
More pixies were free and buzzing around with their sharp claws and teeth, however, and not everyone was cut out for upfront defense. Vincent and Gregory, bless the idiots, were doing their best to herd everyone over toward the Shield den in the corner near the door, said Shields being maintained by Daphne, Padma Patil, and Blaise; most everyone else was either screaming or injured.
Draco only slightly noticed all that; he was a little busy trying to keep Tracey from bleeding out at the neck with his trauma kit – thank goodness Uncle Sev made those mandatory for all 7 years of Slytherin. It wasn't looking good though, and with the fop having retreated after losing his wand like an idiot, Lavender Brown in hysterics over a lost eye, Theo Nott screaming almost as loud over a small scratch on his face, and the defenders starting to tire from keeping over a hundred pixies at bay-
"Incendi lacero!" Potter shouted, an honest-to-Merlin fire whip scything through the middle of the horde; very impressive, but unfortunately that spell also caused the immobilizing Charms to fail momentarily.
"DON'T DO THAT AGAIN, HARRY!" Bones screamed as Granger and Cornfoot put the Charms back up fast as they could, Susan and Finch-Fletchety helping Weasley – who dropped off Longbottom and rejoined the fight – Abbot, Greg and Vinnie try to manage the ones that got loose, Potter joining in after apologizing.
-Draco was starting to hope someone noticed all the noise they were making and rescue them.
His prayers were answered by the door to the classroom getting blown off its hinges, followed by…
"Venti Frondosum."
A wave of grey light rippled through the classroom, shattering every other spell in place; it felt like tiny needles against Draco's skin, like the feeling that came with a limb that 'fell asleep', but it quickly passed.
The pixies had it worse: every single one in the class seized, gasped, and cried out, dropping from the air as the grey wall swept past them.
Not a single one was spared, the blue terrors falling to the ground, twitching and rattling out their last breaths in the suddenly quiet classroom, only broken by Brown's sobbing and the hard breathing of panic from the second years.
Draco glanced up, and found Great-Aunt Lenore lowering her wand with a stony expression on her face, and a huge sickle vanishing into her robes; to the students behind her, she said, "Mr. Diggory, Ms. Selwyn, you two are in charge of gathering the Second Year class; Selwyn, triage-"
"On it, Professor," Natalie said, darting right for Tracey while pulling out her own trauma kit, the other members of Slytherin and Ravenclaw rushing over with her.
"-and make sure Ms. Davies and Ms. Brown are taken to the hospital; worry not, Ms. Brown, St. Mungo's should be able to fix that eye in a matter of seconds. Mr. Diggory- good lad," she sighed as she kept striding into the room, watching as Diggory and a few others got Potter and the other frontline people together, laying down Calming Charms and making sure no one got too jumpy. Granger looked shocked at the sudden end of the battle, but started when Professor Black mentioned Brown; she ended up sitting numbly in a seat, only responding when one of the Weasley Twins came over. At which point she dissolved into tears.
Fair, Draco felt like doing the same, what with his hands covered in Tracey's blood.
Potter just went around the group making sure everyone was alright, though he apologized to Bones when he got to her; she punched his shoulder in one more admonition, then hugged him. Draco made a note of how Potter seized up briefly at the close contact. It was subtle, but…
"Mr. Malfoy," Great-Aunt- no, Professor Black, was standing in front of Draco, asking quietly, "Are you hurt?"
"N-No Professor," he stopped himself from running a hand through his hair. "I-I-I think I'm a-alright."
"Evanesco," the blood vanished from Draco's hands. Tracey was pale, but sitting up and drinking a potion with Daphne mother hen-ing her. Professor Black hit him with a much-needed Calming Charm and started talking again, "What happened here, Draco? Where is Professor Lockhart?"
Just like that, the floodgates opened, and Draco told her everything he could about the class between relieved tear-filled gasps, from the horrid quiz to the horrible attack of the pixies; the front-liners, having joined the rest of the class nearby, put in their own two Knuts-worth. He never thought he'd think it, but thank Merlin the Mudblood Granger had such a good memory.
"-and then his wand got chucked out that window," the bushy-headed girl sobbed, Su Li's arm around a shoulder in comfort, "a-and then he said 'Class d-d-dismissed'!" she couldn't go on, clearly, as she dissolved into more tears, Potter and Weasel coming to try to keep her calm. Doubtful, as the bookworm had just been betrayed by a teacher.
Draco also noticed how she kept glancing toward Tracey as she and Brown were taken to Professor Black's Floo by Pucey, so they could be taken to St. Mungo's… which made the Malfoy scion a tad calmer; if Davis and Granger were that close as friends, he would have to reevaluate his strategy where Gryffindor House was concerned to account for it. Mudblood though she was, he couldn't just ignore how intelligent Granger was; that wouldn't be very Malfoy or Slytherin of him, ignoring a possible asset that might survive the coming year.
His father had taught him well. For now, though, he would try to make some inroads with a little something he liked to call indirect diplomacy, having invented it… just now.
"Then he went to go hide in his office, Professor Black," he said bitterly, adding with some heat, "and I think I speak for everyone in this class by saying I'd rather be taught by an owl, than be around that… that…"
"Moron," Weasley suggested mullishly.
"Yes, moron, thank you, Weasley," Draco would treasure the look of shock on the redhead's face for some time yet, "And yes, Potter's owl would be a better Defense teacher than that moron, Professor Black… Professor?" his Great-Aunt was staring at the group, still as a statue.
Suddenly, she spoke, voice grave.
"Let me make sure I have this right: your Professor, after giving you as unrelated a quiz as possible, unleashed- Ms. Selwyn, how many pixies do we have here?"
"Estimated at a hundred-fifty, Professor! Lots of pieces over here by the chandelier."
"Thank you, Ms. Selwyn, take ten points and make sure the pieces are properly stored for Professor Snape."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Professor Black turned back to Draco and his classmates, "He unleashed one hundred-fifty Cornish Pixies, which are rated Class XXXX when in numbers exceeding fifty," Draco's blood ran cold, and from his fellows paling, they were just as shocked, "and then, as if this wasn't bad enough, the incompetent jackass got his wand filched, whereupon, instead of trying to evacuate the class or give his life to help you all escape, barricaded himself in his office. Is this all correct?"
A round of nods, whimpers – Longbottom was really badly cut up, and was still being healed – and angry grunts were Professor Black's response, in addition to Draco, Susan, Granger, Cornfoot and Potter all muttering, "Yes Professor."
Lenore Black's nostrils flared, and she heaved a large sigh before clicking her tongue, "Well then," and she marched past the children, heading straight for Lockhart's office, ordering loudly, "Mr. Diggory, please escort the Second Year class to the Hospital Wing; once there, ensure their Heads of House are notified, and to meet myself and Lockhart in the Headmaster's office… oh," she looked over her shoulder and smiled, "and 200 points to each House, for working together. Now…"
Before she could blow Lockhart's door down, it opened, revealing the blonde 'teacher', who was grinning hopefully, "Ah, Professor Black! I see you've dealt with the PixieeeEEEEES!" the fop screeched as Great-Aunt Lenore grabbed him by the ear and, with a flick of the wrist, tossed him back into his office.
Before following him in, Professor Black addressed the shocked students, "Homework for both classes is six inches on Cornish Pixies; groups for the Second Year class are allowed, though keep in mind you will be graded as a group if you do decide to team up. Dismissed." She then turned back to the blonde moron, "As for ye, gobshite..."
Both classes of students made haste to retreat as the Hunter lost her cool and started screaming words none of them knew, some of which might've been hexes; no one was feeling very sympathetic to Lockhart, but only a moron would want to get in the middle of that dressing down.
On the way to the Infirmary, Draco suddenly and briefly had a bushy-haired witch next to him.
"Thank you," she whispered, already picking up speed to join her fellow Gryffindors.
"Of course," Draco muttered back; what did she think, that he'd let a fellow Snake die like that?
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"It is with a heavy heart," Dumbledore said during dinner that evening, making Harry look up from his potatoes, "that I inform you all that the Defense curse has claimed its latest and, hopefully, last victim. Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, due to circumstances regarding health and sanity, has decided to retire to Australia for the forseeable future. For those of you seeking refunds for textbooks, please see Professor Flitwick after classes tomorrow; as for his classes, makeup work for years One through Three will be provided and graded by Professor Black until a new Professor is appointed, which will not take long. Thank you."
The Headmaster sat down as two out of seven years, Harry's included, applauded and cheered as hard as they could, the Twins even sending a banner of sparks reading GOOD RIDDANCE over the House tables. For once, none of the Professors complained.
Smiling with his friends- even Hermione looked relieved- Harry was really glad; if the threat to Hogwarts Dobby told him about was Lockhart, the rest of the year would be nice and quiet and full of magic.
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A/N: Jinx it harder, why don't'cha?
The sickle Draco saw Lenore slide back into her robes was the sword version of the Burial Blade.
That's all for the moment, folks! Hope you all enjoyed! Until next time!
~Baked