.
A School of Witchcraft and Murder
(Harry Potter/Assassination Classroom)
Harry was sitting at a Gryffindor table, looking at the teachers with curiosity. He was going to learn magic from them, so it was only natural to want to know what kind of people they were. Harry frowned. All of them seemed... tense. Nobody touched food or drinks yet, except a lady with large glasses who was gulping rather unsightly from a large goblet. Many had their hands hidden in sleeves or behind the folds of their robes. Professor Quirrell was openly twirling his wand.
All of them were looking at a figure at the head of their table, and Harry gasped when he focused on it and saw it clearly. For at the head of the table sat a creature with many yellow tentacles, each almost as long as its white beard, and a big round head with tiny black eyes.
"Who is it?" he asked Ron in a whisper.
"Oh, that's headmaster Dumbledore," Ron said. "I guess he might be imposing if you didn't know how he looks."
"Look closely," Percy said suddenly, leaning towards Harry and Ron. "Since it's your first feast, that should be interesting."
The headmaster stood up, preparing to address the students. The moment his back turned to the teachers' table, all of them cast spells at his direction. Harry was momentarily blinded by the multicolored light which engulfed the Great Hall. Once he could see again, however, the headmaster stood on the same place, seemingly unperturbed.
"Before we can start the most important part of the welcoming feast - enjoying the food - please allow me to say a few words to you all, and especially to those who walked into this fine school for the first time today," the headmaster said. "You have seven years left to kill me before I destroy the world. Please do your best. That would be all."
He waved a tentacle, and a variety of food and drinks appeared before the students. They applauded briefly before digging in. Harry, however, just sat there with mouth open. Looking around, he noticed that only Hermione had the same reaction.
Ron pushed him lightly.
"Food," he said. "Come on, it's going to disappear soon to make room for dessert. You don't want to miss it."
Harry blinked.
"Is the headmaster... mad?" he asked.
"Oh, definitely," Percy said. "But a brilliant mind all the same."
"So, he isn't going to destroy the world?" Harry felt it was an important matter to clarify.
"He is, actually," Percy said. Harry stared at him. "Ah, right, you grew up with muggles. Well, you can find all about it in the library tomorrow, but the short version is that once during the last war Headmaster Dumbledore and You-Know-Who were dueling in the Ministry building, and their fight took them to the Department of Mysteries. Nobody is quite sure what has happened there, but Headmaster emerged like that, no longer quite human, and went to destroy the Moon."
"Huh?"
"Right, muggles... What you see in the sky is an illusion. The Moon was gone for the last decade. So, afterwards he has disappeared for the rest of the war, but not long after You-Know-Who has died, he appeared again, took credit for the destruction of the Moon and proclaimed he is going to destroy the world eventually. Since then, many tried to kill him, but none succeeded. We are getting better with each year in it, though, and I have a good feeling about your stay in Hogwarts. I mean, you've defeated one powerful wizard already."
Harry stared at him some more.
"Why do they allow him to teach?" Hermione asked with a slight note of hysteria in her voice.
Percy shrugged. "Well, nobody managed to kill him yet, so not much we can do about it. Besides, he's brilliant at the job. You'll see."
"In this class, you will be studying a subtle art of potion brewing. There will be no foolish wand-waving, no frivolous spells other... teachers may feel inclined to teach you, no distractions from what is truly important for you all to learn. Poisons. Deadly and merely detrimental, liquid and gaseous, slow and fast, the ones that are mixed with food or drinks to hide them and the ones that taste and smell of nothing at all..."
Harry raised his hand.
Snape glared at him. "Ah, Mister Potter... Our new celebrity." There were a few laughs from the Slytherin side of the room.
"I have a question," Harry said, feeling exceptionally brave.
"I see that," Snape said. For a few moments, he remained silent, letting Harry to fidget on his sit. "And what that question may be, I wonder? Perhaps something worthy of interrupting a teacher?"
Harry gulped. "Well, sir, I was just wondering. What good are poisons against him? I mean, with his speed, the headmaster doesn't even need to eat at Hogwarts. Surely he won't simply let himself get poisoned?"
Snape sneered at him. "If you'd let me finish, Mister Potter, I would tell you that I am also going to teach you a subtle art of cooking. Not even the headmaster can resist my chocolate cakes, arsenic or not. Five points from Gryffindor for wasting my time."