Professor O'Shaughnessy stood before the room calling out the names on her attendance scroll, her eyes sweeping over the room, seeming to instantly memorize the faces of each student as she called their name.
Harry was watching Seamus and Dean try to bewitch a spider on their desk to dance, with little luck. Finally, it managed to escape off the edge as his name was called.
"Potter, Harry."
"Here," he said, raising his hand.
Her eyes landed on him, peering closely at him. They did not move up to his scar, as most eyes did when people first met him. They stayed locked squarely onto his own green eyes for what seemed like ages. Finally, they swept back down to her list. After ending the list with Ron Weasley, she laid the scroll onto her desk, then slowly began walking around the room as she spoke.
"For the last four years, you have been here at this school, learning potions and charms; the arts, the sciences, and the histories of wizardry. This year, we will add to your education considerably. As you are fifth years, I expect you to keep up on you work.
"I've been told that you studied the Unforgivable Curses last year with Professor Moody. Any ideas what some of those might be?"
Several hands shot into the air. Those lessons were still fresh in the minds of the students.
"Yes, Miss Brown?"
"The Imperius Curse, where you control another person."
"Good. The Imperius Curse." She raised her wand and the class gasped. "Don't worry, I'm not going to show you." A piece of chalk wrote the name on the board in capital letters. "We all know it should be dreadful to lose our free will. Imagine the things that could happen, what you could be made to do." Her eyes lingered on Draco Malfoy. "Others? I understand you had an excellent lesson on this last year. Surely you remember more than one. Miss Parkinson?"
"I didn't raise my hand." Several Slytherins snickered.
"And I will forgive you for that oversight. What is another Unforgivable Curse?"
"Uh, Crucius?"
"Cruciatus," the professor corrected, and the word was written on the board as well. "The Cruciatus Curse inflicts pain such as none of you will ever know. Every inch of your body screaming out in pain, to the point of begging for the one thing that will stop it."
"To die," Harry said quietly. He still remembered all too well his run-in with Voldemort, and even more so, the pain of that curse, his bones were on fire, his head splitting.
"Good Mr. Potter," O'Shaughnessy said, regarding him quietly. "The Cruciatus can make even the most powerful wizards beg for death. Absolute torture." She was quiet for a few seconds, her hand gently squeezing Neville's shoulder, who had been sliding under his desk. Harry knew that Neville now lived with his grandmother because his parents had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by Death Eaters, followers of Voldemort, and were now patients at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, completely insane and unable to even recognize their son.
"And the last?" she asked. "Mr. Finnegan?" Another student who hadn't raised his hand.
"Um, the Avada one?"
The class giggled.
"The Avada one?" O'Shaughnessy repeated. "Please try that again."
"Avada, uh- Kedavra. The killing curse."
"Better," she said, then leaned closer to him. "I have no tolerance for people who do not even try. See that it doesn't happen again."
Seamus nodded slowly.
"The Avada Kedavra," she continued as if nothing had been said to Seamus. "The most unforgivable and the most dangerous of the curses. It cannot be reversed. Once someone has been killed, they cannot be brought back.
"I had these curses brought up because they are the extremes of the Dark Arts, and I'm sure knowing about them, and feeling you know how to ward them off is enough to make you feel comfortable about protecting yourselves. I assure you, nothing can be further from the truth. Any decent witch or wizard can take an ordinary spell and turn it into a curse. What does this tell you about the Dark Arts?"
The room was still. No student seemed willing to answer her question. Impatiently, O'Shaughnessy blew out her breath.
"Come, come, there must be at least one decent mind in this room."
The girl next to Harry raised her hand timidly.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"That the Dark Arts aren't just the spells, it's the person too?"
"Are you asking me a question?"
"No, I mean, it's the person. The witch or wizard who casts the spell."
"Good. There's a bit of psychology that goes into understanding the Dark Arts. It's understanding the person you're standing against and the spell itself."
O'Shaughnessy turned to pick up some papers from her desk.
"How would you know?"
"Excuse me?" she answered.
"I said, how would you know?" It was Draco Malfoy sitting near the back of the room. The Gryffindors gasped at his audacity. Even a few Slytherins were surprised that Draco would speak to a teacher in such a way. Harry watched the professor carefully as she set the papers back on her desk and leaned against it.
"Are you questioning my knowledge, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco laughed.
"Yes. You don't look like you could defend yourself against a sneeze, let alone a curse. First they give us a werewolf, then a nutball to teach this class. Now it's a woman."
O'Shaughnessy leaned against her desk, her arms crossed against her chest, watching Draco with what seemed to be amusement.
"Are you quite finished?"
"Quite," Draco said, trying not to laugh again.
"I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, your greatest dangers are not in those people who seem the most dangerous, but in those who do not. It is not the people who create the fires, but those who walk through it, you should fear." She was walking slowly toward the back of the room, toward where Malfoy was seated. Every student in the room craned their neck to watch her. At last, she stopped, standing directly in front of him. She stooped down, lowering her voice, but no one in the room was breathing. Their ears strained to hear the words. "If you really want to know, ask your father. Ask him about his friends. Ask him where he got the scar on the back of his shoulder."
She addressed the class now, her voice seeming so loud, as the students were straining to hear her, that they jumped when she spoke.
"Before we meet again, you will read the first chapter in your textbook and write two full scrolls detailing the dangers of a Trion Curse with at least two very famous examples from history when it has been done successfully. And that's a full scroll. That does not mean write one and three quarters of one and cut off the bottom part, because I will notice.
"Yes, I am aware that this is the first day of classes, but I assure you, I am in not habit of letting students off easy just because they have been away. I suggest you get into the same habits. Now button up those complaints until you are out of this room. Good day."
The bell dismissed the class just as she finished speaking, as if it were waiting for her to finish before it rang.
"Can you believe that?" Ron asked as he, Harry, and Hermione headed for the Great hall for supper. "She all but called Malfoy's dad a Death Eater."
"She acts like she was an Auror," Harry added.
"She was."
"Now how would you know that, Hermione?" Ron stared at her. "She looks pretty normal for an Auror. No magic eyes roaming about or missing appendages."
"You just weren't looking close enough." She dropped her books on the table. "Her left hand and the side of her neck are covered in scars."
"What? How could you even see?"
"Because my tongue wasn't on the floor from the moment I walked into the classroom. She was obviously an Auror. That's why she spoke to Malfoy the way she did, telling him to talk to his father. I'll bet she was after him at one point. And it's about time we had a decent female role model in this school. One who is young and intelligent and doesn't spend her days breathing in fumes in a tower."
"If you're talking about Professor O'Shaughnessy, then I agree." George Weasley sat down, followed by his twin brother Fred. "She's an excellent female role model. All girls should want to be like her."
"Quite right, George. Tall, beautiful, intelligent, and willing and able to kick anyone's- ow! Cripes, Hermione, we were just jokin'!" He picked up the apple that had conked him in the head and landed in his lap. "But thanks. Now I have something to give to the professor!"
"Miss Granger, I saw that. Twenty points from Gryffindor." Snape was standing next to the table, unnoticed by its occupants. "Any decent parents would have taught you not to throw food." He continued to the front table without even looking back. Hermione's jaw was on the table.
"What did he just say?"
"Settle down, 'Mione," Harry told her, nudging her with his elbow. "It's only the first day."
"He's just sore that he lost out on the Dark Arts job again," Ron said a little too loudly. Luckily, Snape was out of earshot. His pace didn't even slow as he rounded behind the table and, to everyone's surprise, sat down next to Professor O'Shaughnessy, despite several seats left open.
Harry and Ron walked made their way to the dungeon for Potions, neither in much of a hurry to see Snape, trying to hurry. It was bad enough that he detested both of them, but they would not add to his ire by being tardy to his class.
"Where's your Mudblood friend, Potter?" Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall just around the corner from Potions.
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"Make me, Weasley."
"Come on, Ron. We're going to be late for class."
"I asked you a question, Potter." Malfoy grabbed at Harry's robes, but his hand was pushed away.
"Potter!"
"Harry!"
Harry turned and saw Malfoy's wand in his hand. He spilled his books on the floor, grabbing at his own wand. Malfoy fired and spell, but Harry ducked and the spell bounced off a wall, striking a nearby Hufflepuff, who fell to the ground, boils popping up over her arms.
"BARRIO!" Harry cried out. He hit Malfoy squarely, his ears elongating, and long tail sprouting from his backside.
"Malfoy! Potter! Desist immediately!" Professor O'Shaughnessy was between them, her hand out. "Wands, now!"
"It wasn't Harry's fault!" Ron yelled.
"But, Professor-" Harry stammered.
"I will not!" Malfoy cried indignantly.
"Mr. Weasley, go to class." Her eyes followed Ron as he walked dejectedly toward the Potions room. Then she turned back to Harry and Draco. "You were both casting spells in the hallway, injuring another student. Fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. You will turn your wands in to me now and will not receive them back until you have both served a detention for me this evening. Now, wands."
Harry laid his wand in her hand. Malfoy, however, refused.
"I have a Potions class. I need my wand."
"For which you are both now late," Snape announced from behind Malfoy. "And you both will receive no credit for the lab portion, as you will not have your wands. Mr. Malfoy, I believe a teacher just requested that you hand your wand over. Please do so."
Malfoy scowled as he laid his wand in Professor O'Shaughnessy's hand.
"My father will hear about this."
"Then, please send him an owl. I would love to sit down and have a chat with him," was her reply, unmoved.
"Malfoy, report to the hospital wing," Snape said calmly. "Potter, get to class. I will have no more interruptions."
Harry and Draco glared at each other as they passed, heading in opposite directions. Harry paused at the door and looked over his shoulder to see Snape speaking low with the professor, before following him into the classroom.
"She took your wand?" Ron lowered his voice so as not to attract the attention of their Potions teacher. "Can she do that?"
"Well, she did. I have to serve a detention tonight with Malfoy to get it back."
"Blimey. Malfoy didn't get out of it? But Snape hurried out of the room as I was coming in."
Harry measured hog's tooth powder into the cauldron.
"Snape was on O'Shaughnessy's side from the start. He made Malfoy give up his wand too."
"Wow."
"Yeah. They act like they're friends. I wonder if she was a Slytherin."
"What? With Snape? I think she bathes too often to be in Slytherin."
"Well, it would explain a lot. Why she's friends with him and why he treats her almost nice."
"You don't think they're dating, do you?" Hermione whispered from the next cauldron.
"Augh, I just got an imagine in my head." Ron said, a little too loudly.
"POTTER! WEASLEY!"
Their conversation halted for the rest of the class, until they escaped into the hallway.
"Ech! Hermione, that alone is enough to give me nightmares!" Ron shivered visibly. "I don't even want to think about Snape falling for anyone, even if it is Professor O'Shaughnessy."
Snape swept past them in the hallway, his robes billowing out behind him as he went.
"He could be together right now to profess his love!"
"Oh, that's disgusting!"
"It's not disgusting! It's sweet!"
Ron and Hermione argued all the way to the Common Room and didn't even notice when Lee Jordan entered, bearing a note for Harry.
"It's from O'Shaughnessy," he said as he passed it to him.
Report to my classroom promptly after supper for your detention.
-Professor O'Shaughnessy
This lightened his mood a little. Her classroom. That meant he would not be sent into the forest again for detention.
Right after the meal, Harry hurried to the Defense classroom. The professor was sitting at her desk, reading a book. She didn't even look up when he entered.
"Profess-" He was stopped by her upraised hand. He waited patiently as she turned the page of her book and read a few more lines before she looked up.
"Mister Potter. Thank you for being prompt. Mister Malfoy should be here momentarily."
"Professor, I just wanted to apologize."
"For what?"
"For what?" He was confused. This was a punishment, wasn't it?
"Yes, Mister Potter, for what? For standing up to a bully? For dueling in the hallway, on the second day of school, no less? Or perhaps for injuring innocent bystanders? Or are you apologizing for getting caught? You may choose, and I will tell you if you were apologizing for the right reason."
"I don't understand."
"It's simple. Do not apologize to me if you don't know what you are apologizing for. I do not like empty words. Choose them carefully."
"I apologize for losing my temper," he said after some thought.
"Why?"
"Because I got into a fight because of it."
"And?"
"And broke a school rule, causing classmates to be injured."
"Well put. You will make your father proud someday."
"Did you know my-"
"Mister Malfoy, you are late."
Harry turned to find Malfoy standing in the doorway. He strode toward the front of the room, hitting Harry with his shoulder as he passed.
Professor O'Shaughnessy waved her wand and two blackboards appeared on either side of the room. She handed each boy a piece of chalk.
"For your punishments, you will write the sentence 'I will not be an idiot and fight in the hallways as I may possible injure fellow student or myself,' until the board is covered. No letter may be larger than 5 centimeters in height, and each sentence will be written line by line."
"Is that all?" Malfoy asked.
"You may add, 'I will hold my tongue when a teacher is speaking,' Mister Malfoy. And I believe you will find the task much more strenuous than it sounds."
Professor O'Shaughnessy was right. The board began erasing itself when they were half finished, causing them to start over again once they reached the bottom.
"This isn't fair!" Malfoy declared, and his board began erasing even faster.
"I wouldn't continue talking back if I were you," O'Shaughnessy warned.
Harry's hand began cramping from holding the chalk. As he shook out his fingers hoping to gain feeling, he began to feel very sorry for what he had done.
'Whenever Malfoy's involved, I seem to lose my head and get myself into trouble. This has really got to stop.' Harry glanced longingly at the clock. It was already after eleven. He stretched his fingers again and resumed writing. His chalk continued forming the sentences on the board.
'You really are an idiot sometimes,' he told himself as he copied the sentence for what seemed like the thousandth time. 'Someone really could have gotten hurt. It's not exactly safe to go throwing magic around when you're mad. God knows there are enough accidents here.' He sighed as he reached the bottom of the board again, but was amazed to find the words at the top of the board had remained. The board was filled with the sentences.
"Mr. Potter," Professor O'Shaughnessy said. "Come get your wand."
Harry was approaching her desk to get his wand when Snape entered the room.
"Professor O'Shaughnessy?" he asked. "You're still here?" He glanced at the boards filled with words. "They're writing sentences? You'll be here all night." He was standing right behind Harry now.
"Mr. Potter is finished, earlier than I thought, actually. But I think it may be a while with Mr. Malfoy."
Snape's eyes flashed to Malfoy's board where the words he had just written were disappearing, much to his consternation.
"Save you sanity," he sneered. "Send him to bed and bring him back tomorrow."
"Mr. Malfoy, the Head of your house asks that you be sent to bed now."
Malfoy grinned.
"But you will return tomorrow and finish up," Snape added.
The grin faded.
"Come, I'll walk you back to the House." Malfoy followed Professor Snape out the door, his head hung.
"Come along, Harry. Let's get you to bed as well."
Professor O'Shaughnessy glided down the hallway, her head held high as Harry followed directly behind. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her.
"Professor," he called quietly. "You know who I am, right?"
She stopped and turned slowly toward him, one eyebrow raised high.
"You are Harry Potter, a fifth year student at Hogwarts who got caught casting magic in the hallway, in a duel no less." She softened a little. "You are the boy who survived while both of his parents were murdered, to put it bluntly. You weren't hoping I'd go easy on you, just because you're famous, did you?"
"No, I just- you know both of my parents are dead, but you said my father would be proud."
"You're asking if I knew them."
"I guess I am."
"When I was a student here," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder, "I was very good friends with several who are no longer with us, including your mother, Lily. And through her, I knew your father. I knew them both very well."
"So you knew Professor Lupin and Sir-"
"Harry, yes, I knew all of them. However, it is late, and I really must get to bed. Now come along, and ask me no more questions."
Harry followed her silently to the portrait of the Fat Lady, wished her goodnight, then continued into the tower.