The fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins slowly filed out to the
lawns. It was their first day at Care of Magical Creatures. They had all
heard the rumors that Hagrid was gone, no longer teaching the class, or
even being gamekeeper on the grounds. Though Malfoy kept parading about,
saying that his old man had finally gotten him fired, Hermione and Ron knew
better. They knew Hagrid and Madame Maxime, the witch who had come from
Beauxbaton for the Triwizard Tournament last year, had left together doing
top-secret work for Dumbledore. Hagrid had "accidentally" let it slip to
Harry, Ron, and Hermione last year that they were going to make a
diplomatic liason with the giants.
Hermione found herself remembering last year as they trudged across the lawns. "Who do you think it'll be this year?"
Hermione still wasn't quite herself, Ron thought quietly as he pondered how to answer her. Of course, neither was he. Mourning was supposed to be a slow process. That's what his mum had told him. Oh well, let it take its time. "I dunno, 'Mione," Ron finally replied. "Probably some old hag-!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he was forced to eat them, for they had reached the pen where the Care of Magical Creatures lesson took place. Before them stood a beautiful witch. She was fairly young, at least for a Hogwarts teacher. She seemed about the age of Sirius Black or Remus Lupin.
That, of course, was not what made her stand out. She was tall and thin, about five foot eight or five nine. Her skin was lily white, and her face was narrow and delicate, aristocratic looking. Her hair was straw blonde, almost alabaster, cascading down her back. She had pulled it back in a loose braid. Most stunning were her eyes. They seemed to shift colors in the light. At first they were a shocking mint green, only to fade to amber, then go straight to purple, and settle back on pale blue, all within the first five minutes. Ron found himself wondering if she was part veela.
"Hello, everyone. I am Professor Figg."
A few Slytherins dared to snicker, "Figg, haha, Figg", whispering the name amongst themselves.
Professor Figg just shook her head. "Please, children. I have heard every joke imaginable about my name, and found none of them particularly amusing." One student was still sniggering. "And you are?"
"Draco Malfoy," he said proudly, his head held high.
Professor Figg just looked at him and laughed laughed, a loud and merry chuckle that took everyone aback. "Well that explains everything! I knew your father well, he started at Hogwarts the same year I did. So, when I was catching up with Dumbledore before the term started, I happened to ask how your parents were. He told me that they had you, and proceeded to relate to me an extremely interesting incident that happened last year. Unfortunately, however, Mr. Malfoy, we won't be covering ferrets, including the bouncing variety, until your seventh year, so an exhibition of your talents will have to wait."
The entire class, both Slytherins and Gryffindors, started to laugh. Even Ron and Hermione, depressed as they were, smiled a little. Last year, their old Defense of the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody, had transfigured Draco into a ferret and starting bouncing him up and down in the hallways. Draco scowled in response, muttered something under his breath about speaking with his father. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you insist on continuing to speak out of turn, I will have to keep you here for the next class period. That's when I have my seventh years." Draco added something about a bat like her being unable to transform anything to save her life.
"Mr. Malfoy, I must say you remind me stunningly of your father. And, to prevent further misconceptions about my abilities," she began, finishing the sentence by transforming into a pure white housecat. The entire class was extremely amused, though they had all seen similar magic before from Professor McGonagall. "I was the top in my class at transfiguration, missed being head girl by only about a point. There have been only ten animagi to my knowledge this century, Mr. Malfoy. I am one of them, two others are teaching at this school as we speak, and at least three of those remaining are dead."
"Why would I want to turn into a cat?" he asked with a snobbish pride.
"The animagus transformation is the pinnacle of transfiguration magic, requiring years of careful study. I am a licensed veterinarian for both muggles and the magic world, simply because I know so much about animal anatomy, which was a prerequisite for me becoming an animagus. I am not surprised that you lack the drive for it." Malfoy simply stared at her, mouth agape. A teacher had insulted the proud Draco Malfoy.
"Now, I believe, if there are no further interruptions, we shall begin our lesson. This is a bit more complicated than anything you have handled before, so you must follow my instructions to the letter. Due to recent events, the headmaster wishes me to concentrate on teaching you about the so-called 'dark creatures'. I will not necessarily be teaching you how to care for these creatures; I plan on focusing on giving you all the knowledge I can, so that one day you can combat them if you need to. These 'dark creatures' include dementors, giants, one particularly nasty species of dragon, and a few magically-spawned beings, the "aberrations" which are occasionally mentioned but never fully explained in your textbooks.
"We will begin with dementors. As you are all quite familiar with those, I feel no need to bring one out. YET." At her words, the entire class shivered. "However, does anyone know how to combat a dementor already?"
Dully, almost like she was in a trance, Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"You conjure a Patronus to battle with the dementor." Her voice sounded hollow, even to herself, and she was staring at the ground when she spoke.
"And how do you do that?"
Hermione raised her hand again. "You think of a happy memory and say 'Expecto Patronum'." Still, Hermione's voice was dull. She had lost part of herself when Harry died; it was apparent to all.
Professor Figg nodded, pleased as she raised her wand. "Yes, good, Ms. Granger. Expecto Patronum!" she cried, and out of the tip of her wand floated a beautiful silver mist in the shape of a great cat. It stood for a few minutes, looking around, then it spun gracefully and pounced headfirst back into her wand.
"Everyone, please take out your wands and attempt to conjure a patronus. I do not expect any of you to get it on the first try, for it is a very difficult spell. In addition, a memory must be extremely happy to work as a life source for a patronus. Basically, do not be disappointed should you not achieve results this class period. Begin."
Ron and Hermione sat together. They got very little results at all. Ron only got a puff of silvery smoke to exit the tip of his wand before it died, and Hermione could not make anything happen.
Meanwhile, Draco was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, and they all were laughing. Draco whispered loudly to them, "Remember how scared Potter used to be of dementors? He fainted every time one got near him! Just that one time, when- AGHH!"
For some reason, Draco found it extremely difficult to talk just then, as he was rapidly developing a black eye. He was lying on his back on the ground, and Hermione was on her knees, looming over him. There were tears streaming down her face. Ron gently pulled Hermione off him. Professor Figg, who had been on the other end of the little field, made it over and grabbed Hermione's shoulders. As she was pulling her away, Ron met Malfoy's gaze and said coldly, "If. You. EVER. Talk. About. Harry. Like. That. Again, I will rip your guts out with my bare hands." He saw Ms. Figg looking at him sternly, and he whispered, "And by the end, you'll be in so much pain that you'll wish that I had cast the crucio on you instead!"
Figg sighed. Perhaps this year would not be as easy as she had hoped. "Mr. Malfoy, detention."
"But Professor, I-," Draco started to say.
"You insulted a dead student, one who happens to have had many friends. The next time you voice your opinions about Harry Potter, I suggest you do it where no one can hear you."
"Speaking isn't a crime," he replied coolly.
Professor Figg smiled cruelly. "But talking back to a teacher is, and you have done plenty of that already today. Two detentions, Mr. Malfoy. Please keep talking. I plan on asking Mr. Filch to preside over your detentions, because I have a great deal of work to do tonight. In addition, I know what a great personal relationship Mr. Filch has with his students, and I am sure that you will both enjoy your sentence. In the mean time, I believe you should report to Madame Pomfrey. Your eye is swelling rather badly."
Draco just stammered, "Wha-what about HER?"
"I am about to see to her punishment. You are dismissed, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger, please follow me." Professor Figg led Hermione to the other side of the empty pen where they could speak in private.
"Professor, I'm sorry, I just-," Hermione began.
Figg just shook her head, a grim look on her face. "I have several things to say. The first is that kind of behavior is inexcusable. Violence does not solve anything, Ms. Granger."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied meekly, staring at the grass beneath her feet.
"The second is that you have a nice right hook," Professor Figg added with utter seriousness, maintaining the expression for about a minute before she started to smile. In disbelief, Hermione just gaped at her. "I did that to his father a few times. I doubt Mr. Malfoy remembers it though, I hit him hard enough to knock the memory out of him on both occasions." Figg winked at her student.
"Now, for the punishment part. No, Hermione, I can't let you off the hook completely, much as I would like to. However, I think I know a slightly more preferable way to deal with this. You were very close with Harry, weren't you?" Hermione's little smile died, and she just gulped, unable to do more than nod once. "Was Mr. Weasley close with him as well?" Again, Hermione nodded. "I noticed that both of you are having especially an especially hard time coping with grief right now. I think you two need some form of counseling. I believe that we have someone at Hogwarts who would be capable of helping you deal with your emotions in a slightly less, shall we say, destructive manner."
Hermione flushed a little, though not as deeply as she normally would have. "Who would this person be?"
"Oh, it's best not to discuss that now. We will go back to class now, and I will inform you when this meeting has been set up. I saw you having trouble conjuring a patronus a few minutes ago," she finished, changing the topic.
"Yes, Professor. All my happy memories involve HIM, and well…" Hermione's voice just dropped off.
Professor Figg just smiled. "I believe I have found a suitably enjoyable memory for you and Mr. Weasley, however. Were either of you present during Mr. Malfoy's bouncing ferret incident?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Hermione seemed fairly cheerful, at least as cheerful as she had been for the past month. Though that basically translated to her not about to burst into tears, Ron was still grateful to see her in an undepressed mood as she walked back to him.
As Hermione was about to turn back to conjuring her patronus, she noted a lone figure standing off to the sides of the 'classroom'. "Hello, Siri-Professor Black," she called tentatively. Sirius Black just nodded to her, flicking his hand in what might have been a wave. He seemed content to watch the class work.
After a moment, Professor Figg noticed him standing there and walked up to him.
"Wonder what THAT's about," Ron whispered to Hermione.
The two teachers immediately began to engage in a fairly animated conversation. "Well, they are teaching similar topics. Dark creatures and dark magic go together in a way."
"I don't think so, 'Mione," Ron replied. "Look at them! That's how close friends talk with each other."
Just then, Sirius said something. It was only a whisper, but the tone was clearly angry. He stormed off then, leaving Professor Figg to stare at the ground for several minutes before returning to the class. "Close friends?" Hermione asked with a strange look on her face. "I think they used to be a bit closer than that."
Ron just looked at her, dumbfounded. "How do you know?"
"A woman's intuition, Ron," she replied, still the barest glimmer of a smile there. She refused to say any more about it the rest of the class, trying unsuccessfully to conjure a patronus.
Hermione found herself remembering last year as they trudged across the lawns. "Who do you think it'll be this year?"
Hermione still wasn't quite herself, Ron thought quietly as he pondered how to answer her. Of course, neither was he. Mourning was supposed to be a slow process. That's what his mum had told him. Oh well, let it take its time. "I dunno, 'Mione," Ron finally replied. "Probably some old hag-!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he was forced to eat them, for they had reached the pen where the Care of Magical Creatures lesson took place. Before them stood a beautiful witch. She was fairly young, at least for a Hogwarts teacher. She seemed about the age of Sirius Black or Remus Lupin.
That, of course, was not what made her stand out. She was tall and thin, about five foot eight or five nine. Her skin was lily white, and her face was narrow and delicate, aristocratic looking. Her hair was straw blonde, almost alabaster, cascading down her back. She had pulled it back in a loose braid. Most stunning were her eyes. They seemed to shift colors in the light. At first they were a shocking mint green, only to fade to amber, then go straight to purple, and settle back on pale blue, all within the first five minutes. Ron found himself wondering if she was part veela.
"Hello, everyone. I am Professor Figg."
A few Slytherins dared to snicker, "Figg, haha, Figg", whispering the name amongst themselves.
Professor Figg just shook her head. "Please, children. I have heard every joke imaginable about my name, and found none of them particularly amusing." One student was still sniggering. "And you are?"
"Draco Malfoy," he said proudly, his head held high.
Professor Figg just looked at him and laughed laughed, a loud and merry chuckle that took everyone aback. "Well that explains everything! I knew your father well, he started at Hogwarts the same year I did. So, when I was catching up with Dumbledore before the term started, I happened to ask how your parents were. He told me that they had you, and proceeded to relate to me an extremely interesting incident that happened last year. Unfortunately, however, Mr. Malfoy, we won't be covering ferrets, including the bouncing variety, until your seventh year, so an exhibition of your talents will have to wait."
The entire class, both Slytherins and Gryffindors, started to laugh. Even Ron and Hermione, depressed as they were, smiled a little. Last year, their old Defense of the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody, had transfigured Draco into a ferret and starting bouncing him up and down in the hallways. Draco scowled in response, muttered something under his breath about speaking with his father. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you insist on continuing to speak out of turn, I will have to keep you here for the next class period. That's when I have my seventh years." Draco added something about a bat like her being unable to transform anything to save her life.
"Mr. Malfoy, I must say you remind me stunningly of your father. And, to prevent further misconceptions about my abilities," she began, finishing the sentence by transforming into a pure white housecat. The entire class was extremely amused, though they had all seen similar magic before from Professor McGonagall. "I was the top in my class at transfiguration, missed being head girl by only about a point. There have been only ten animagi to my knowledge this century, Mr. Malfoy. I am one of them, two others are teaching at this school as we speak, and at least three of those remaining are dead."
"Why would I want to turn into a cat?" he asked with a snobbish pride.
"The animagus transformation is the pinnacle of transfiguration magic, requiring years of careful study. I am a licensed veterinarian for both muggles and the magic world, simply because I know so much about animal anatomy, which was a prerequisite for me becoming an animagus. I am not surprised that you lack the drive for it." Malfoy simply stared at her, mouth agape. A teacher had insulted the proud Draco Malfoy.
"Now, I believe, if there are no further interruptions, we shall begin our lesson. This is a bit more complicated than anything you have handled before, so you must follow my instructions to the letter. Due to recent events, the headmaster wishes me to concentrate on teaching you about the so-called 'dark creatures'. I will not necessarily be teaching you how to care for these creatures; I plan on focusing on giving you all the knowledge I can, so that one day you can combat them if you need to. These 'dark creatures' include dementors, giants, one particularly nasty species of dragon, and a few magically-spawned beings, the "aberrations" which are occasionally mentioned but never fully explained in your textbooks.
"We will begin with dementors. As you are all quite familiar with those, I feel no need to bring one out. YET." At her words, the entire class shivered. "However, does anyone know how to combat a dementor already?"
Dully, almost like she was in a trance, Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"You conjure a Patronus to battle with the dementor." Her voice sounded hollow, even to herself, and she was staring at the ground when she spoke.
"And how do you do that?"
Hermione raised her hand again. "You think of a happy memory and say 'Expecto Patronum'." Still, Hermione's voice was dull. She had lost part of herself when Harry died; it was apparent to all.
Professor Figg nodded, pleased as she raised her wand. "Yes, good, Ms. Granger. Expecto Patronum!" she cried, and out of the tip of her wand floated a beautiful silver mist in the shape of a great cat. It stood for a few minutes, looking around, then it spun gracefully and pounced headfirst back into her wand.
"Everyone, please take out your wands and attempt to conjure a patronus. I do not expect any of you to get it on the first try, for it is a very difficult spell. In addition, a memory must be extremely happy to work as a life source for a patronus. Basically, do not be disappointed should you not achieve results this class period. Begin."
Ron and Hermione sat together. They got very little results at all. Ron only got a puff of silvery smoke to exit the tip of his wand before it died, and Hermione could not make anything happen.
Meanwhile, Draco was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, and they all were laughing. Draco whispered loudly to them, "Remember how scared Potter used to be of dementors? He fainted every time one got near him! Just that one time, when- AGHH!"
For some reason, Draco found it extremely difficult to talk just then, as he was rapidly developing a black eye. He was lying on his back on the ground, and Hermione was on her knees, looming over him. There were tears streaming down her face. Ron gently pulled Hermione off him. Professor Figg, who had been on the other end of the little field, made it over and grabbed Hermione's shoulders. As she was pulling her away, Ron met Malfoy's gaze and said coldly, "If. You. EVER. Talk. About. Harry. Like. That. Again, I will rip your guts out with my bare hands." He saw Ms. Figg looking at him sternly, and he whispered, "And by the end, you'll be in so much pain that you'll wish that I had cast the crucio on you instead!"
Figg sighed. Perhaps this year would not be as easy as she had hoped. "Mr. Malfoy, detention."
"But Professor, I-," Draco started to say.
"You insulted a dead student, one who happens to have had many friends. The next time you voice your opinions about Harry Potter, I suggest you do it where no one can hear you."
"Speaking isn't a crime," he replied coolly.
Professor Figg smiled cruelly. "But talking back to a teacher is, and you have done plenty of that already today. Two detentions, Mr. Malfoy. Please keep talking. I plan on asking Mr. Filch to preside over your detentions, because I have a great deal of work to do tonight. In addition, I know what a great personal relationship Mr. Filch has with his students, and I am sure that you will both enjoy your sentence. In the mean time, I believe you should report to Madame Pomfrey. Your eye is swelling rather badly."
Draco just stammered, "Wha-what about HER?"
"I am about to see to her punishment. You are dismissed, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger, please follow me." Professor Figg led Hermione to the other side of the empty pen where they could speak in private.
"Professor, I'm sorry, I just-," Hermione began.
Figg just shook her head, a grim look on her face. "I have several things to say. The first is that kind of behavior is inexcusable. Violence does not solve anything, Ms. Granger."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied meekly, staring at the grass beneath her feet.
"The second is that you have a nice right hook," Professor Figg added with utter seriousness, maintaining the expression for about a minute before she started to smile. In disbelief, Hermione just gaped at her. "I did that to his father a few times. I doubt Mr. Malfoy remembers it though, I hit him hard enough to knock the memory out of him on both occasions." Figg winked at her student.
"Now, for the punishment part. No, Hermione, I can't let you off the hook completely, much as I would like to. However, I think I know a slightly more preferable way to deal with this. You were very close with Harry, weren't you?" Hermione's little smile died, and she just gulped, unable to do more than nod once. "Was Mr. Weasley close with him as well?" Again, Hermione nodded. "I noticed that both of you are having especially an especially hard time coping with grief right now. I think you two need some form of counseling. I believe that we have someone at Hogwarts who would be capable of helping you deal with your emotions in a slightly less, shall we say, destructive manner."
Hermione flushed a little, though not as deeply as she normally would have. "Who would this person be?"
"Oh, it's best not to discuss that now. We will go back to class now, and I will inform you when this meeting has been set up. I saw you having trouble conjuring a patronus a few minutes ago," she finished, changing the topic.
"Yes, Professor. All my happy memories involve HIM, and well…" Hermione's voice just dropped off.
Professor Figg just smiled. "I believe I have found a suitably enjoyable memory for you and Mr. Weasley, however. Were either of you present during Mr. Malfoy's bouncing ferret incident?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Hermione seemed fairly cheerful, at least as cheerful as she had been for the past month. Though that basically translated to her not about to burst into tears, Ron was still grateful to see her in an undepressed mood as she walked back to him.
As Hermione was about to turn back to conjuring her patronus, she noted a lone figure standing off to the sides of the 'classroom'. "Hello, Siri-Professor Black," she called tentatively. Sirius Black just nodded to her, flicking his hand in what might have been a wave. He seemed content to watch the class work.
After a moment, Professor Figg noticed him standing there and walked up to him.
"Wonder what THAT's about," Ron whispered to Hermione.
The two teachers immediately began to engage in a fairly animated conversation. "Well, they are teaching similar topics. Dark creatures and dark magic go together in a way."
"I don't think so, 'Mione," Ron replied. "Look at them! That's how close friends talk with each other."
Just then, Sirius said something. It was only a whisper, but the tone was clearly angry. He stormed off then, leaving Professor Figg to stare at the ground for several minutes before returning to the class. "Close friends?" Hermione asked with a strange look on her face. "I think they used to be a bit closer than that."
Ron just looked at her, dumbfounded. "How do you know?"
"A woman's intuition, Ron," she replied, still the barest glimmer of a smile there. She refused to say any more about it the rest of the class, trying unsuccessfully to conjure a patronus.