Chapter Three

Class in Session

Her first class was fifth year Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, so Jennifer finally got her first look at the famous Harry Potter. She nodded to each student as roll was called, not even blinking when she said his name. She couldn't help but notice that Harry's eyes had been filled with just as intense of a gaze as Severus' gaze had. She supposed it was quite understandable considering the things Dumbledore had told her happened to him in the last few years. She saw from his expression that he was wondering how much she had been told, but she quickly moved on to the next name, finishing the roll call without looking at him directly again.

"As you all should know by now, I'm Professor Craw, and if you don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts on Tuesdays, you probably shouldn't be here." A fourth year Hufflepuff in the back of the room edged towards the door, earning a few chuckles from the rest of the class.

"This year we're going to be looking at overall concepts of defense… some on the bit unorthodox side… as you will see later on. The first few weeks we are going to be discussing perception of the Dark Arts. Now, that may not be as exciting as it might sound at first," she smiled apologetically. "It basically means that you're going to learn how to use your senses and suspicions to perceive when something's not on the level; how to see past magic and sort out the truth.

"This does not mean you have to be suspicious of everybody. I've already gotten my fair share of suspicious looks already and I've only been here a few days…" soft laughter rolled through the class. They all knew she was talking about Snape. "It also does not mean you should think everyone and your pet familiar is out to get you." Ron, Hermione, and Harry looked uncomfortable. "What it does mean is that keeping your wits sharp, noticing the little things, and staying alert are your first and best defenses against the Dark Arts."

Hermione nodded and smiled at Harry, her doubts about the new professor abated. This wasn't going to be a bad class after all.

"First, we're going to talk about and name the seven senses that can be employed to figure out something's not quite right. I'm certain that if you think about it long enough, you can get all of these. Ron?"

"Smell?" he asked, making a face.

"That's a good one," Jennifer nodded and it appeared the chalkboard. "And believe me, if you can smell evil, you are way too close." A few students chuckled at that. Jennifer pointed at several of the raised hands, and the students glibly answered sight, sound, touch and taste, "which I personally wouldn't recommend," Jennifer commented as it appeared on the board. "Now the sixth one, as I'm sure you all learned in first year, is magic sense. Can anyone guess what the last one is?"

After a few moments Hermione raised her hand, and Jennifer nodded at her.

"Common sense?" Hermione guessed.

"You got it," grinned Jennifer. "Five points to Gryffindor for that one. Yes, and that's the most important out of all of them. You might as well throw the rest of them out to the window if you don't have any common sense. I'll be getting more into that next week when we get around to talking about that sense again. We'll be going over one a day until we go through them all, and then we'll have a quiz. But what I want you to do today for a turn-in to is write down each one of the senses we named and give me an example of what Dark Art you might be able to uncover with that sense."

Most of the class met her smiling face with blank looks on theirs. Ron pulled out his lower lip and blew the hair out of his eyes, shaking his head.

"Homework on the first day! How do you like that?" Ron murmured.

"This is going to be child's play," said Hermione, delighted as she started her examples.

Three classes later, Jennifer was more than ready for a break. Rather than eating in the Great Hall or the staff room, she decided to stow a sandwich and an apple and went to visit Hagrid. Greeting her warmly, he was quick to take her over to the animal pens, showing off his beasts.

"This here's Ruby, an' tha's Babe," he said, pointing out the pegasi. They were both sleeping near their tether on the other side of the pen. "They don' get much sleep at night now, with the patrollin' an all. But they're nightbred anyhow, so it don't matter too much."

"Who all goes on the nightly grounds patrols with them?" she asked curiously. Her own security assignments kept her from having to do scheduled rounds.

"Ever'un who can ride one, really. Even got Professor Snape on one the o'er day, but that didn't go too good. Ruby about kicked him off cross the Quidditch Pitch while he was ridin' an' he finally had to grab hol' of a ring and jumped on it, then floated t'the ground."

Jennifer held back a fit of giggles as she tried to imagine that. After a moment, she thought of something.

"Hey, Hagrid, what was it you were going to tell me about Professor Snape the other day?" she asked. "When I mentioned my missing potion books?"

"Oh, that. Only that ya prolly won't be wantin' ta borrow any books from 'im, because 'e don't care much for new Dark Arts instructors. It takes 'im a while to get used to 'em."

"Why's that?"

"Well, on account a ever'one knows e's been wantin' the position fer years, and especially after the last few 'ave ended in disasters, I think he thought for sure he was getting it this year. An' to find out Dumbledore assigned someone like you, well, I'd expect he was a bit upset."

"Someone like me?" Jennifer prompted but Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Ah, I know, an upstart witch who just started teaching and knows next to nothing about the school." Jennifer attempted to mimic Severus' voice. She must have gotten close enough because Hagrid grinned.

"Wull, from what I hear, you're doin' a smashin' job, so pay no attention to him."

"How would you know how I'm doing? It's the first day of school and it isn't even over yet," she asked, hands on her hips.

"Well, see, Harry Potter is a personal friend of mine, and him, Ron and Hermione, they think ye're smashin.' Well, maybe not so much Ron, but 'e just don't like homework."

Jennifer laughed. So, Harry and company confide in Hagrid, eh?

"Hagrid, you're the best. I'll have to come talk to you more often," she replied.

"Great! I love company. So do they," he nodded to the pen, stopping to pet a fire-breathing turtle.

On her way back to class, Jennifer found herself thinking about what Hagrid said about Severus. So, the scrutiny wasn't personal, perhaps, but because he was passed up for the position. In a way, she couldn't blame him. He'd been on staff for years, she was sure. Just why didn't Dumbledore want to put him in Defense? She couldn't see him being bad at it. There was so much about him that reeked of first-hand experience… and yet, here he was, who he was, at Hogwarts. She sighed uncomfortably, not happy with having to admit to herself that someone available and more qualified was passed on the job. Somehow, she thought, she was going to have to smooth that over if she intended to stay on long term.

The next class was first year Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Jennifer soon wished to get back to the smooth sailing of her morning classes. Amadeus just couldn't remain quiet. It seemed that speaking out in class, usually with smart aleck comments, was his specialty. And then, at what appeared to be a particularly quiet moment when she had her back turned, a fistfight broke out between two from differing houses, and she quickly found herself assigning her first detention. To make matters worse, Severus appeared in the doorway just as she was pulling the students apart, asking with a thin smile if she needed him to come handle it for her. Ignoring him after a quick, "no thank you," she made sure they went up to their house rooms, quickly tying her disheveled hair up and getting back to her class.

Fortunately for both the class and Jennifer, the rest of the class seemed to be adamantly working on their paper when she got back. Almost fearfully, she noticed thoughtfully, wondering if Severus had said something after she had left.

Soon the bell rang and it was time for her last class of the day; seventh year Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Unfortunately for her, they seemed a lot more interested in her than in the class.

The crowning moment came when Norid, a Slytherin student, raised a hand and asked, "Is it true that your father was Thomas Craw, an accused Death Eater?" Jennifer's face turned white as a sheet, gazing coldly at Norid.

"This is not a class on popular rumors. This is Defense against the Dark Arts, and as you will learn from what I cover, you do not always trust what you hear," Jennifer advised.

"Well, we know from the paper that he was murdered, and his wife went missing last year. So something fishy must have been going on," Remvark, another Slytherin, suggested. "Even considering she was half Mudblood."

"That's fifteen points from you for speaking out of turn, and another twenty for using such terminology in my class." Jennifer told him with fire in her eyes. Remvark smiled back at her but then pretended to pay attention to the assignment.

"Any more accusations outside of truthful and accurate presentations of evidence will not be allowed in this class. If you want to speculate on something other than fact, I suggest you take Divination instead," Jennifer said curtly.

She sat down, well aware that they would speculate about what happened out in the corridors, and just as aware that there was little she could actively do to cut it down. The last thing she wanted was rumors going around the school about why her parents fled.

Finally the class ended. Once the last student left, she leaned back in her chair, exhausted and angry at herself as she thought through her own actions that day and how she had risen to the bait. Although she knew she had done her best to respond professionally in every incident, she came to the conclusion that she had failed in the way she handled her last two classes. She had just been contemplating going to bed early when Minerva knocked on the open door and entered.

"Rough day?" Minerva asked with concern.

"Very," Jennifer admitted, not feeling like going into any detail.

Minerva simply nodded in response.

"Well, then, we should be off to dinner," Minerva replied.

"Minerva, I really don't feel like eating," Jennifer protested.

"I know," Minerva said seriously. "But if you don't go out there and eat a hearty dinner, they're going to know they've beaten you. So, we should be off to dinner." Jennifer looked up at her, knowing she was not only dead right, but was speaking from years of experience. Slowly Jennifer stood up, and was rewarded with a smile. "Come on. And I do mean eat, you know, not this plate picking thing like last night. The trouble with being at the high table is that the students notice everything."

Grinning weakly, Jennifer followed behind Minerva. She began to feel a little better the closer to the Great Hall that they came, knowing that just showing up would be a statement.