Guess who's back?! I know, I know, a month and a half to post this chapter is ridiculous. I had already written most of it three weeks ago but there was THAT part that did not sound right and I didn't know how to improve it. Plus I feel like I don't have the time to write (which isn't true, I just had more time before because I worked from home two days a week!) so it's harder to write. But I've joined a challenge to help me, and I hope I will be able to write a bit more! That is, if I don't have three job interviews after work in less than a week again (guess what happened last week? Fingers crossed, I hope I'll get that job!) Enjoy this chapter! Krummbein
Half-hidden in a corner, Regulus watched as his new colleagues arrived one by one, greeting each other quickly before taking place around the large table located at the centre of the room. Most of them seemed reluctant to talk, and the few who did only exchanged a few words, usually whispered in a haste. From time to time, someone would stare at the very end of the table before nodding sadly and falling silent. Finally, Albus Dumbledore appeared and everyone held their breath, waiting for him to speak.
"Welcome," he said, "to another year at Hogwarts."
His voice was weak, weaker than Regulus had ever heard, and everyone seemed to notice it.
"As you may have already guessed, this year won't be like the previous ones. A few months ago, a battle was engaged in a corridor of the Ministry, leading to the public acknowledgment from the Ministry that Voldemort was back and that a second war had begun. Since then, a lot of tragic events have happened throughout the country, one of them being the murder of our dear friend and colleague, Charity Burbage. I would like to invite you to observe a minute's silence in her memory."
Everyone lowered their head and Regulus mimicked them, but not before giving a quick look in Severus' direction. His friend had been there when Charity had been killed and, while he had said nothing about it, Regulus knew it had moved him deeply not to be able to do anything.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said quietly, breaking the silence. "Let us begin with the first and most important news of the day: because no new teacher has been found, the Board of Governors has decided that Muggle Studies would be cancelled for the time being and that the students who have taken this elective will have to study by themselves. I have taken the liberty of asking two Muggle-Born students, Miss Granger and Mr. Finch-Fletchley, to help their classmate on the subject, and I'm delighted to tell you that the both of them have made themselves available for two hours, three evenings a week."
Some teachers looked slightly startled by the announcement, but most of them didn't. They must have seen it coming, Regulus thought. The Death Eaters had publicly announced the death of Charity Burbage and explained that the next teacher to occupy her position would face the same fate, so it wasn't surprising that no one had dared to apply.
"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I would like to introduce the newest addition to our team. Professor Smith, if you would come closer and introduce yourself?"
Regulus agreed with a slight nod of the head and approached the table, ignoring the looks of relief of some of the teachers.
"Good afternoon to you all. I am Thomas Smith, Master Potioneer, and I am honoured to become a member of this faculty. I know that this is a time of uncertainty for all of us but I hope that, despite everything currently going on, we will be able to trust each other and to do our best to help and protect the students in our care. Thank you."
His declaration was welcomed by an embarrassed silence, and it took almost a minute before McGonagall had the courage to ask what everyone was thinking.
"I hope you will forgive my question, Mr. Smith, but what is a qualified potion-maker doing here, teaching DADA classes?"
Dumbledore raised his hand, beaming.
"My dear Minerva, I think you are being mistaken. Mr. Smith here has not been hired to teach DADA, but Potions. It is Severus who will take over Mrs. Umbridge's class."
"Honestly," Ginny heard her mother mutter through her teeth, "how do Muggles deal with this every day?"
Today was the first day of September, and her mother had decided that they would go to the train station with the old Ford Anglia, a way for her to make sure her husband was still part of their annual trip. Ginny, Percy and Ron had thought it was a nice idea and agreed immediately, but none of them had foreseen the trouble that crossing half-London today would get them into. It had taken almost forty minutes to reach the area surrounding the train station and now, they were only moving from a few meters every two or three minutes.
"The entry of the car park is on your left, mother," Percy suddenly said.
"I can see it dear; the problem is that we are currently stuck in a traffic jam."
"Why couldn't we just fly?" Ron groaned. "Sirius repaired the Invisibility Booster ages ago."
"I told you already, I don't want to risk being seen by Muggles in the sky if the charm fails."
"But Sirius told you it…"
"It's already 10.39," Percy interrupted, consulting his watch. "Mother, do you want me to take the wheel so that you, Ron and Ginny can go to the platform?"
"I… no, wait, the car in front of us is finally moving. Just a few more meters… YES! Now, how do I get a ticket?"
"You've got to push the red button," Ron explained.
"Ah yes, thank you Ron. Let's hope we find a place to park the car quickly."
Ten minutes later, the four of them reached the platform, breathing hard. Ginny, seeing that a few students had still not boarded the train, slowed her pace and tried to catch her breath. Not far from her, a familiar voice called her name and she smiled when she recognized whose it was.
"Neville," she said as she came closer to her boyfriend, before greeting the stern woman standing stoically at his side, "Lady Augusta."
"Miss Weasley," the older woman said. "A pleasure to finally meet you properly. I trust you had a nice summer?"
"I had," Ginny answered, "thank you. I hope yours and Neville's was nice as well?"
"It was perfectly lovely," she replied quickly. "Now, while I would love to chat with you, I think it's best if the two of you find yourselves a compartment. Maybe we could continue this conversation another day? Neville and I will meet during the next Hogsmeade weekend, I would be delighted if you joined us for tea."
"I… Yes, of course," Ginny said, trying not to flinch under the older woman's gaze. "I'll be delighted as well."
"Good. Now that this is settled, I don't see any reason to keep you from saying goodbye to your family. I'll see you soon, Miss Weasley."
Ginny recognized the dismissal and left to find her mother and brother who were waiting for her next to the train. She hugged them tightly, laughing when Percy returned the favour clumsily and boarded the nearest compartment. Neville joined her shortly after, and the both of them went looking for their friends.
"There's something I need to tell you," her boyfriend said once they were alone. "I went to Diagon with Gran to get a wand holster and guess who I sa…"
"Neville, Ginny!" the voice of Hermione interrupted. "We're just here!"
A door had opened a few meters from them, and Ginny saw their friend waving enthusiastically at them. She quickly glanced at her boyfriend, who shook his head slightly.
"Coming," she said. "Were you waiting for us?" she asked as they put their trucks on the luggage rack.
"Of course," Ron said. "Don't want the two of you alone in a compartment."
"Ronald," Hermione tsked, and her brother immediately groaned. "So," she continued, "how was your summer, Neville?"
Her boyfriend immediately launched into a very detailed description of his holidays in South America where he and his great uncle had travelled to find rare species of plants. Half listening, Ginny let her mind wander for a while, wondering what Neville had wanted to talk about. He had looked worried, almost alarmed, and she hoped that it wasn't serious.
"By the way, Harry," she heard him say, "Gran said Sirius and the twins had offered to create shield cloaks for Order members, is that true?"
Ginny turned towards the raven-haired boy, realizing that he hadn't spoken at all since they had arrived. He briefly looked in their direction and shrugged before returning his attention to the window.
"O… kay?" Neville answered, startled by his unusual behaviour.
"Don't worry about him," Hermione immediately said. "He's been like this since he saw the Prophet's headline this morning."
Well, Ginny thought, this ride is going to be fun.
"This year's gonna be fun," Draco heard Crabbe exclaim after Dumbledore's announcement. "I bet Snape shows us lots of Dark spells now that he teaches DADA!"
"Idiot," Draco hissed. "Do you really think the old fool wouldn't know if he did? Snape will do a better job than the other idiots before him, but don't think for a second that he'll show you how to Crucio someone."
The boy looked disappointed, and Draco felt sick. If only he knew what being tortured really meant...
"Do you think the new teacher is going to be as nice as Snape?" Goyle asked.
"Why do you care?" Draco said. "You don't have Potions anymore."
"Dunno," the boy answered, "but Snape talked to him so he can't be bad."
He was right, Draco recognized. The fact that Snape even acknowledged his presence meant that he had to excel in Potions.
"What do you think happened to Dumbledore's hand?" Crabbe asked. "It looks funny."
It looks cursed, you mean, Draco thought to himself before answering.
"I don't know, but I hope it hurts a lot."
Both boys burst out laughing, and Draco did his best not to wince. Just imagining Dumbledore suffering was enough to make him uncomfortable and to remind him of his task. He couldn't bear the idea of having to hurt him one day.
"Hm, Draco?" Crabbe said suddenly, sounding a bit worried. "Snape's coming that way, and he's looking at you…"
Crap, Draco thought, annoyed. He must have heard of what happened with Potter. How could he not, when half the castle had witnessed his outburst toward the Chosen One? He reluctantly turned around and was met with the cool gaze of his Head of House.
"Mr. Malfoy," the man said dryly. "My office, ten minutes."
Draco nodded, resigned. After all, it wasn't like he had a choice, right?
What a shitty year it's going to be.
Severus watched as his Godson entered carefully, his grey, cold eyes nervously darting from left to right as he approached from the desk. The room was dark except for the light coming from the fireplace and, for a second, Severus had the distinct impression that he was looking at his own reflection, some fifteen years ago. Everything was there: the tension in every fibre of the boy's body, the dark circles under his eyes, the look of exhaustion on his face. As he came nearer, Severus began to note other, more subtle changes, like the fact that his normally perfectly-tailored clothes seemed too large, or that his usually smooth skin was now showing fine lines of stress. More worrying was maybe the fact that it was only the beginning of September and that he could detect the faint smell of Calming Draught, but he was confident that Draco would not need it anymore after tonight.
"You wanted to see me, professor?" he asked, his voice completely neutral. He had stopped a few meters away from the desk and seemed ready for whatever he thought was coming.
"Take a seat, Draco, I fear this will take a while."
His Godson hesitated a second before moving and sitting in front of him.
"Look", the boy began suddenly, "I don't know what that oaf Hagrid told you but I swear it's Potter who…"
"I'm not here to talk about Potter," Severus interrupted, annoyed, and Draco blinked rapidly.
"You're not?" he asked. "But then why am I…"
"You're here because I want to offer you my help."
"Your… help?" his Godson repeated suspiciously.
"My help," Severus confirmed. "To complete the tasks the Dark Lord gave you."
All colour drained out of Draco's face, and his jaw tightened.
"This isn't funny at all, uncle," he hissed furiously. "You of all people should know that I have to do this on my own."
"I am perfectly aware of the conditions the Dark Lord set, Draco," Severus shot back immediately. "However, I have no intention of letting you go through that alone, and I have no intention of just watching as you slowly work yourself to death."
"So, what, you think my mother should die instead?" his Godson shouted angrily. "Because this is exactly what will happen if I don't follow His instructions, REMEMBER?"
Draco had gotten up from his seat and was now looking at him furiously, and Severus felt his heart ache at the boy's obvious misery. Not only had he suddenly lost his father, but he was now facing the possibility of losing his mother too, and knew her survival was linked to his success.
"Have you so little faith in me, Draco?" Severus asked quietly. "Do you really think I would have asked you to come here tonight if I wasn't certain that I could prevent her death?"
There was a brief sparkle of hope in his eyes, but it disappeared so quickly that Severus wondered if it hadn't just been his imagination.
"I… I want to believe you," Draco answered, looking torn. "But I don't see how you can help me without the Dark Lord knowing it."
Severus couldn't help but smirk.
"It's easy," he told his Godson. "We lie to him."
Draco's eyes widened comically.
"Lie to him?" he whispered, sounding terrified by the mere idea. "You… you're joking, right? We wouldn't stand a chance; you and I both know that."
"Again, Draco, a little faith in me wouldn't hurt."
Draco just stared at him, obviously wondering if he had gone completely mad.
"How can you be so confident?" he asked in a low voice. "He is one of the greatest legilimens of this world, even my father said that."
"I'm confident because I've already done it," Severus revealed. "Several times, in fact, and about subjects more serious than you can imagine."
This time, Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, and Severus knew he had gotten the boy's attention.
"Prove it," he demanded. "Prove it that you're not the one who's lying."
Severus nodded and raised his wand towards his chambers, opening the doors leading to them. Soon, the sound of claws against the granite flagstones was heard, and he waited until the ugly cat stopped in front of Draco. His Godson glanced between the cat and Severus several times, looking completely lost.
"Tell me, Draco," Severus finally said, "what do you know of Regulus Black?"
Neville felt the strap of his bag fall from his shoulder and hastily put it back where it belonged before checking the time on the huge clock on display above the nearest corridor. It was already five past two, and he was running late.
Let's hope the new teacher isn't as bad as Snape, he thought as he swiftly avoided what looked like a terrified second-year Hufflepuff. Or I'll regret accepting McGonagall's offer.
Earlier this morning, his Head of House had told him that professor Smith accepted N.E.W.T students with 'Exceeds Expectations' at O.W.L and had reminded him of his wish to become an Auror when he had objected to taking the class.
"You don't need to be a genius in Potion to enter the Academy," she had said sternly. "Your mother certainly wasn't one, yet she passed the test and became one of the best Auror of her time along with your father. Now, Longbottom, do you want me to add that class to your schedule or not?"
It hadn't taken long for Neville to make his mind and, after lunch, he had left the Great Hall along with the other sixth-years towards the dungeons. However, his trip had been stopped by professor Sprout who had approached him about a possible apprenticeship at her side after his graduation, and the cheerful little woman hadn't accepted no for an answer. After almost fifteen minutes of endless debate, Neville had told her that he needed time to think about her offer and had left in a hurry.
Finally, the door came into sight and Neville slowed down his pace before stopping in front of it. He stayed there for a full minute, breathing deeply and bringing his heart rate to a normal pace before knocking firmly and waiting for an answer. Without a sound, the door opened and Neville cocked his head warily inside the classroom.
"Mr. Longbottom," the new teacher said with a friendly smile. "Come in, we were waiting for you. Your friends told me you would be late."
"I… yes, thank you sir," Neville answered before nodding towards Ron who was trying to tell him that he had kept him a seat. "I'm sorry, sir, but I only learned this morning that I would be able to take this class and I don't have ingredients, nor the required book."
"That won't be a problem, Mr. Longbottom. You can take your ingredients from the student cupboard. As for the book, I saw a few copies over there."
He was pointing over a small cabinet in a corner of a room, and Neville immediately opened it. Inside were two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, and he took the first one before joining his friends. Professor Smith had begun explaining the organisation of their first class together, and Neville opened his book to the page indicated on the board before frowning slightly. It seemed that whoever had owned the book had been bored in class, because the margins were almost black with writing. Annoyed, Neville was about to go back to the cabinet when he realized that the sentences he could read here and there were not as pointless as he had first thought. Intrigued, he began reading what was written in the margins, his eyes widening when he realized what it really was.
Interesting.
Hope you enjoyed it! Krummbein