Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does.
--
The only subject that Icarus was (sort of) looking forward to was Transfiguration. Sure, he hated the homework that was given out and he wasn't particularly fond of McGonagall, but Transfiguration seemed to be the only thing that he was actually good at academic wise. To be fair, he did all right in all his other classes (sans potions), but he truly excelled in Transfiguration. He was probably the best in his year at it, always receiving full marks and only getting a few off if he didn't. Yes, Transfiguration was definitely his favorite subject.
Upon arrival at the Transfiguration classroom, Icarus spotted a tabby cat with square markings around its eyes stiffly sitting on a desk in the front. Professor McGonagall. She always did this on the first day of the school year, sitting still as a statue on top of her desk, watching the students walk into the classroom and take a seat.
As Icarus took his seat in the back of the class, he thought back to his first class with McGonagall. She had sat on her desk so still that Icarus had thought that she was a taxidermied cat. Imagine his surprise when, all of a sudden, the cat had turned into his teacher. He had realized that she was an animagus and ever since then, he had wanted to be one.
As if on cue, the cat jumped off of the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall was a strict-looking woman and she lived up to her appearance. Square glasses rested on her nose and her black hair was pulled into a tight bun. She wore long, swishing robes that, today, were the color of emeralds. She always had a stern look on her face and she tolerated no nonsense in her class. She expected the best from her students, no matter the house, and she didn't tend to play favorites.
"Today," she announced, "you all will be practicing the Vanishing Spell. There is a snail on each of your desks that you will practice on."
Icarus glanced down at the desk he was sitting at to see a snail shell.
"The Vanishing Spell," McGonagall continued, "is one of the most difficult—if not the most difficult—spells you will learn this year.
"Now, I want you all to repeat after me. Evanesco."
"Evanesco," the class chorused. She had the class chant the word some more until they all had the pronunciation right.
"Very good. Now, I don't expect any of you to get the spell right today, but we'll see."
Icarus pointed his wand at the snail shell. "Evanesco."
Nothing happened.
"Evanesco." Again, nothing.
He tried again. And again and again and again. Each time, nothing happened. Frustrated at his inability to make the snail disappear, he looked over at Alan to see his progress.
Alan groaned. "Why is this so difficult?"
"Gee, I don't know, maybe it's because we're trying to make something disappear?"
"No one asked, Phillip."
"If it makes you feel any better," Icarus started, "I'm not having any luck either."
"No, it doesn't because you're you." Alan slumped down in his chair. "You're, like, crazy good at Transfiguration."
"Oh, stop, I'm blushing."
"No, I'm serious. If you can't do it, what hope do I have?" He grabbed Icarus by the shoulders and started to shake him. "What hope do I have?"
Icarus removed Alan's hands from his shoulders and shrugged. "I dunno, mate." He turned back to his own snail.
For the rest of the class time he fruitlessly attempted to make his snail vanish. When they were within the last ten minutes of class, he was beyond frustrated. Transfiguration was the only thing he was good at and he couldn't make a tiny snail disappear. His pride was definitely bruised.
Icarus took a deep breath and tried to push his doubts out of his mind. Concentrating hard, he said, "Evanesco."
The snail vanished.
"Oh shit." The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. In the back of his mind, he recalled Lupin telling him to not use expletives around his professors.
"What was that, Mr. Black?" McGonagall was immediately by his desk and she fixed him with one of her piercing stares.
He swallowed. "My snail's gone."
A look of surprise took over McGonagall's features, but only for a second. "So it is," she said. "Well done, Mr. Black." She walked away.
The other Slytherins and Gryffindors were staring at him. He gave them all a smile that screamed I'm better than you. Some of them turned around and went back to try to make their snail vanish while others just rolled their eyes and huffed out a breath.
A few minutes later, they were dismissed from class, but not before McGonagall told them that they had to practice the Vanishing Spell that night.
--
That night, Icarus, Alan, and Phillip were sat on one of the couches near the fireplace where a fire was going. They had made a collection of things that they didn't need so they could practice the Vanishing Spell.
"Wish we could make Malfoy disappear," Alan grumbled. Draco Malfoy had been loudly announcing to the whole school about how a hippogriff had attacked him. His arm was bandaged and while Icarus didn't doubt that the scratch had been painful, he did find it difficult to believe that the hippogriff had nearly killed Draco.
"He probably deserved it," Phillip mumbled after watching Malfoy start another dramatic reenactment of the event. "He's a dick."
"Isn't he your cousin, Icarus?" Alan asked.
"Second cousin," Icarus corrected. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He needed a cigarette. He had been fidgety all day and he couldn't believe that he had gone this long without one. It had been over a day.
"I need a break," he announced. "You two can keep practicing if you want."
Phillip nodded and Alan muttered an absentminded "Uh-huh," then went back to trying to make a button disappear.
Icarus walked into his dormitory and grabbed a pack of cigarettes that were in his trunk. Hiding the cigarettes in his robes, he walked out of the common room and out of the castle. Once he was outside, he skirted the walls of Hogwarts, not wanting to be ambushed by the dementors or caught smoking. He had gotten caught once, last year, and he had gotten the cigarettes taken away from him and detention for weeks; McGonagall had been the one to find him.
He pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it with his wand. He inhaled and exhaled, watching the smoke that escaped his lips. He could already feel himself calming down a bit. He was about to take another drag when—
"Icarus?"
Icarus whipped his head to the right to see who had said his named.
Professor Lupin stood there, the light from the end of his wand illuminating both himself and Icarus.
"Hey, Professor," Icarus said casually as if he hadn't been caught smoking.
"Hand them over." Lupin held out his expectantly.
"Hand what over?" Icarus said innocently, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"You know what." Lupin's voice was stern, reminding Icarus of McGonagall's.
Icarus sighed and reached into his robes, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and handing them over to the professor.
Looking at the cigarette that was still in Icarus's mouth, Lupin said, "And that one. Give it here." His palm was still open, waiting for Icarus to discard the cigarette he was smoking in it.
"Which one?" Icarus asked, trying to play dumb again.
Lupin ran a tired hand over his tired face. "Dammit, Sirius—" He froze.
Icarus also stopped, eyes wide and his mouth falling open a little bit. It was enough for the cigarette to tumble onto the ground. He quickly stamped it out and looked back up at Lupin.
An awkward silence settled around them.
Lupin broke it first. "We should, er, get back inside. The dementors," he added somewhat quietly.
Icarus nodded and followed Lupin back into the castle. Instead of going downstairs to the dungeon, they went up and walked into a room that Icarus assumed was Lupin's office.
"Sit down," Lupin said, gesturing to a small couch. Icarus did as he was told and Lupin sat down on another small couch across from him.
"Smoking is bad for you," Lupin said. "It could kill you."
"Sounds like a problem for future me," Icarus responded.
"I'm serious. These" —Lupin lifted the cigarettes— "aren't good for you."
Icarus nodded.
"You know I'm going to give you detention, right?"
Icarus hummed in response.
"Are you even listening to me? Icarus?"
"You knew my dad," Icarus said.
Lupin seemed to be caught off guard. "I—Yes, I knew your father. We were in the same year and the same house. We used to be friends. You look a lot like him."
Icarus thought back to the picture of Sirius in the Daily Prophet. "Oh, wow, I don't think I've ever received a better compliment," he said, putting as much sarcasm as he could into his words.
Lupin sighed. "Your detention will be next Friday after dinner here in my office."
Icarus nodded. "Can I go now?" He stood up and edged to the door.
"Yes, you can leave."
Icarus didn't need to be told twice. He opened the door and closed it as fast as he could while still being polite, then quickly walked down the halls, back to the dungeon, and into the Slytherin common room.