Quirrell and Lily. Malfoy and Snape. I'm doing a round of humour. I hope you find it to your liking. So far this chapter will look at what the Patrician has in store for them. A short presentation and then the class will begin.
I foresee bonding.
Probably.
Oooh. And ten points if you can spot the special reference in there. *grins* If you've been reading all the Author Notes carefully then you'll get it... Or if you know me.
Thanks: To Georgina for beta-ing yet again. And to all those that pushed and pushed to get this done... The both of you.
Disclaimer: I'm someone entirely different to the people that actually wrote the originals. Therefore its not mine. Oh but Valerie Carter is mine. Sure she has a description similar to that of another teacher... But lets pretend that they're related and it runs in the family. ;)
_
Chapter Three: All Together Now!
Part A
"Oi! Lily!"
Quirrell's face lit up as James Potter approached the two of them. Mumbling something, he picked up his things that Lily was holding under close scrutiny and scarpered. Being alone with Lily for the last six hours as she rattled on about the Patrician, and how this assignment just had to be perfect, had made him more edgy than usual. The seventh year Gryffindor was a meglomaniacle tyrant to put it mildly. Her sudden fascination with the Patrician hadn't made matters any better either.
At least there was one thing to come from all of this - his half of the assignment was done to his liking.
"Where on earth have you been all day? Have you been here with him?" he asked and pointed to the now non-existent Quirrell. Shaking his head he turned back to his girlfriend to interrogate her further. "What exactly have you been doing?"
"I thought I told one of the boys to give you the message."
"What message?"
"The one that said I would be unavailable for the whole day because I have that very important presentation to do for his Lordship's next class."
"Oh. Him." James replied with a considerable amount of venom in his voice. "Is that all?"
Lily looked at him. "James?"
"What?"
"Well I really don't see what the problem is. I mean the Patrician is such an interesting man and he put me in charge of a very special assignment. Although I am having problems with Quentin, I'm sure the Patrician will see through his half-hearted attempt and see my brilliance."
James blanched. Before, Lily had told him that the Patrician was out to get her. He'd been with her when she went to McGonagall in tears about the whole situation in class. How the man was deliberately singling her out and mocking her with every single word that she spoke.
"James?" she asked, snapping him out of his reverie. "Is everything all right?"
James decided to come right out with it. Lily wasn't acting right for a girl who said someone was out to get her. She's been bewitched or something. Must have been something that Assassin trained monster had done to her. Perhaps it was some sort of drug or something.
"No Lily. Nothing is right... I mean look at you! You're obsessing over a man you hated a few days ago and quite frankly."
She looked at him. "I really don't have time for this right now James. And I have no clue as to what you are talking about."
"How could you not know? Lily. You hated the man. And now... It's almost as if you like him. You don't like him, do you...?" He placed a reassuring arm around her. "You can tell me anything Lily..."
A telltale stain of red touched Lily's pale skin. "Of course I like him James. He is my teacher after all. Very brilliant man you know. Highly intelligent and very wise in the ways of the world."
James raised an eyebrow at the girl he was holding. It had to be a Muggle thing. Age of Capricorn or something.
"Has he done something to you?" James was still wary of the man. He had not forgotten the way he had been treated and passed over for this class, nor had he lost the memory of where the Patrician had been taught. Assassin's Guild. What sort of parent sent their child to learn how to harm others? Apparently not one in their right frame of mind...
That is what his father said anyway. And his father definitely knew what was best.
"James darling." replied Lily with a serene look on her face. "Yes he has done something to me. He has enlightened me with his words of wisdom. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find my partner. We need to make this assignment perfect for his Lordship."
She pecked James on the cheek and then left the slack-jawed boy to his own devices - which vaguely resembled the gold fish she'd been imitating not so long ago - as she flounced away looking for her young Ravenclaw partner.
~
The library was fairly quiet for this time of day at Hogwarts. The light and the dark haired boys that were seated in the far end of the library, close to the restricted section, had only seen one other whilst they sat together - one working on an essay and the other consulting a large dusty tome. The person that they had seen, one harassed looking Ravenclaw from their class had made them snicker when he fell over a stack of books and earned a sharp glare from Miss Pince. They returned to their work, but made sure to keep an eye on the boy from their class.
"I've finished the essay for Dark Arts Severus. Do you mind having a look at it for me?"
Snape took the parchment from Malfoy and scanned it. He made a few marks on it and then handed it back. "You might want to rephrase your last couple of paragraphs here and here." he said and indicated the places in question without even looking. "They look like a sixth year put quill to parchment, rather than a seventh year."
Malfoy reread then nodded. "I see your point. How about this.?"
Snape nodded. "Much better."
"You didn't even look at it."
"I know your work. I need not see it."
"How can you be sure that I spelt everything correctly and made sure my grammar was proper?"
"Were you not schooled by the finest wizarding tutors along with myself?"
"Yes."
"My point exactly."
A loud commotion near where the Quirrell boy was broke their conversation. They looked up and saw Lily Evans grabbing the young Ravenclaw and dragging him out amid his quiet protests of "What about my stuff?" They watched with interest as he escaped her grasp and went back to his post.
They were about to resume speaking when yet another loud sound distracted them.
Lily was once again trying to remove the Ravenclaw. This time she'd cast a couple of spells to impede his escape. Frozen solid and now floating out of the sanctity of the library, everyone saw the pitiful "Help me. Oh god one of you have mercy. Please!" look on his face.
Just another day at Hogwarts. It wasn't right unless someone was being unduly embarrassed. If ever it didn't happen, there was the theory that the entire solar system would collapse into a magical void of nothingness. Then again. Said theory had been developed by three intensely paranoid Ravenclaws who saw sleep as just another way for "them" to get you. Story went, that after three months of Pepper-Up potions, the young dears finally snapped, locked themselves in the library and proceeded to come up with every possible solution for every possible outcome - including the meaning of "Why?".
They say that copious amounts of liqueur and certain potions were involved, but as a certain headmaster had declined to comment and further more denied all knowledge of this happening - no one knows for sure.
"Should we help him?"
"No. He should learn to cope with these sorts of things himself."
"Aren't you feeling generous today?" came the sarcastic reply.
The other boy sighed. "It doesn't necessarily mean that we can't have a word with McKinnon about the whole scene."
"Let me rephrase my earlier statement to, my aren't we feeling nasty today?"
"Indeed."
Snape and Malfoy looked at each other - not believing what they were hearing.
"Why, pray tell, did you just say that?"
"Honestly? I don't know."
There was a very pregnant pause between the two before Malfoy ever so hesitantly asked the question that weighed heavily on the minds of the twenty-one students that the Patrician was teaching.
"So... What do you think of him?"
The question was clear, the underlying one even moreso - if, of course, you knew exactly what you were looking for amidst the ambiguity.
"Very smart and very fair I'd say. A pool full of valuable resources."
"True. He could be useful."
"Well... Yes."
Malfoy arched an eyebrow. Snape stared back, not wavering in the gaze directed at him.
"You aren't entirely convinced with my plan?"
"I know exactly what you want as I'm sure he does, but somehow the words 'You'll be bloody lucky', come to mind."
"Oh?"
"Think about it Lucius. The man most definitely isn't human. He knows things and he most certainly isn't a fool. If he was, he would be like the rest of the idiots that teach here."
"He would be a great ally. You can't deny that Severus."
"No. You're right. I can't deny that. However, he's not the type to be manipulated or bought. He'll let you think you're manipulating him - when in fact you'll be his puppet on a string."
"Everyone has a price."
"Sure they do. I know that as well as you do. I just don't think his price would be worth it though. The man is a born strategist and a leader. He isn't going to roll over and beg whenever beckoned. It'll be the other way around."
Malfoy sniggered at the sudden mental image of one of the most powerful wizards that ever lived, rolling over and begging for the Patrician's services.
"Such thoughts will get you killed Lucius." remarked Snape, the twinkle of humour only visible in his eyes.
"I know. But it was pretty funny."
"Indeed Mister Malfoy. Indeed."
~
Quirrell was trapped in the Gryffindor common room. His only means of escape was the window nearest to him.
"Jumping and wishing for the best seemed like the most practical option. Sure. It'd be suicide, but the alternative was about ten times worse.
At least it'd be quiet.
"I really don't like your version of events Quentin. It's just so cold and unfeeling. You need to make it interesting."
"It is int-t-teresting. It's all f-f-fact b-based events. The P-Patrician w-will l-like it."
"You need to make your work more like mine. Honestly Quentin. I do know what I'm talking about. I am a seventh year after all."
"But w-what you w-w-wrote isn't w-what he wanted. B-bypartison. Remember?"
Lily frowned and glanced at her work again. She didn't favour the side she'd taken. Admittedly, some of the comments were inflammatory but that all came with the grounds of the topic they'd been set. The only way she could remove said offensive remarks was if she made it more mechanical.
Like Quirrell's.
She adamantly refused to change her position in her work. She was right and he was very, very wrong. There was nothing wrong with the format she'd chosen for the side of light - the anti-Voldemort coalition.
"Listen to the words and what they say Quentin. Read it again. Out loud this time."
The boy agreed. Maybe this time the stupid... The much older and apparently much smarter Gryffindor would connect the invisible dots with the garishly coloured pen. Bypassing the title, he launched straight into the content.
"In this part of the presentation I have opted to speak on behalf of the side of light - or in other words, the side which is fighting against Voldemort and his desire to control the wizarding world.." he paused, taking a deep breath after reading what he considered to be an all too brief introduction.
"Firstly the side of light represents all the good in the world, as they are fighting against the oppression that Voldemort is trying to cast down on us..."
To Lily, her words were like music to her ears. Quirrell, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh or quite possibly gag. He hadn't really decided which this "epic" deserved more.
"... These tensions can be linked back to the days of the Four Founders. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and finally Salazar Slytherin.
"The founders had very different views as to the involvement of Muggles and those born with magic by non-magic folk, in magical society. The link here from the past to the present falls directly in the beliefs of Slytherin. Godric Gryffindor on the other hand, saw the underlying benefits of he inclusion to the before said parties."
Quirrell paused for effect. Lily glared at him and motioned that he should continue.
"The main benefits, in Godric's mind, being that of a more open society rather than a segregated one. By having an open society there would be no need for secrecy and the 'Obliviate' spell. This is merely one of the numerous factors which remain thoroughly contested in today's issues..."
On and on went Quirrell. Halfway through, he lost his voice, but that did not stop Lily. She fetched him a drink and all but ordered him to continue. He had a pained expression in his eyes once he was done. Lily opened her mouth to speak when Quirrell spoke up instead.
"I-I-I concede your p-p-point. Your w-work is b-brilliant."
Lies could be painful. Far more painful than the truth as this one just proved. Hoping that the spirit of Rowena Ravenclaw would forgive him for this, he looked up at Lily and asked if he could leave - on the premise that he made his work more like hers, which of course he wouldn't but she wouldn't know that until the actual day of the class. It's not like she could kill him while in the presence of God.
Well she could, but then she'd not be his "favourite" anymore.
"Favourite idiot more like." he said aloud rather absentmindedly.
"Pardon?"
"Uh nothing."
Quirrell fled and Lily was pleased. It was all going according to her plan. And that was all that really mattered.
She stood and looked out the window that she kept catching Quirrell looking at with a forlorn gaze in his eyes. She saw the Gryffindor Quidditch team getting ready for practice. She was finished for the day so there was nothing stopping her from watching James play.
~
Quirrell would have thought that the Ravenclaw common room was an adequately safe place for him to be, but when faced with Daniel McKinnon - a pit full of Basilisks seemed to be a much safer option.
He took the berating like a man, pleaded for forgiveness - mentally rolling his eyes, only to be told off for being impertinent. Then he watched McKinnon stomp off to find Lily, or 'that bloody fat stupid cow' as he referred to her as, to give her a piece of his mind for harassing his housemates.
He was now safely ensconced in his own quarters. Away from the noise, away from the idiocy and more importantly - away from the possibility of a beating. He sank down on his bed and relaxed into the familiarity of soft down. He picked up a worn book from the bedside table and cracked it open. Irony of irony as the first line read, "It was the bed of times, it was the worst of times..."
"Quirrell."
He groaned and looked up to see one of his dorm-mates grinning at him.
"What now?"
"Flitwick wants to see you?" replied the other boy with a snicker. "So. What have you done this time?"
"Nothing!"
"Sure you did... Anyway - he's waiting for you in the common room."
Another groan - this one louder than the first. Common room visits from your Head of House were never a good thing. Especially when you had a reputation for causing things, albeit it inadvertently, to happen for better or more often than not - for worse.
He went downstairs to find half of the house waiting for him, looking over open books and other various objects. He glared as best as he could and then saw McKinnon scowling over by the small Professor.
"Scat you lot. We've got business here." he snapped.
At this point Quirrell noticed Daniel was sporting a rather black eye. He snickered and then sobered up as the glare of death from the Prefect was pointed in his direction.
"Off you go McKinnon." said Flitwick cheerfully. "Perhaps you can find something constructive to do."
"But sir."
"Now Daniel. Before I decide to add another days worth of detention to you."
The older of the two boys opened his mouth and then shut it again. Although detention with Flitwick was fairly lax, he didn't rally fancy plucking birds for two days just so the ignorant first years could have something to float in charms rather than blowing up the furniture.
It was just Flitwick and Quirrell now. He gulped and went to face the music.
"You w-w-wanted to s-see me s-s-sir?"
"Yes I did." replied the tiny Professor with a reassuring smile. "It's nothing bad though son. I just want you version of events of what happened today between you and Miss Evans."
There was something unnerving about a tiny man smiling like a happy drunk who called you son. Then again, there was also something unnerving about a Head Girl who was as thick as two short planks.
So Quirrell told him the entire story. He started with the Patrician and ended with Lily and her insistence that her work was far superior than his bland effort which followed the guidelines set. All throughout the tale, Flitwick nodded. He reached the end and waited for the Professor to speak. When he did, it wasn't exactly what he had expected.
"Brilliant at Charms I must say, but she does lack that certain something in other departments."
Quirrell blanched at the moderately harsh words. A teacher, a Head of House no less - speaking ill of the girl chosen by the headmaster and the deputy headmistress to represent Hogwarts as their finest...
Actually. He had a point.
"S-sir?"
"I'll have a word with Professor McGonagall. Get Lily off your case. How does that sound?"
Quirrell all but hugged Flitwick.
"Thank you s-s-sir."
"You're welcome. Now how about you show me this assignment of yours. I'd like to get an insight into why Miss Evans had an issue with it and perhaps point out a few inconsistencies to Professor McGonagall."
The boy grinned and pulled his precious scroll from his robes. He handed it over eagerly to the small man and watched hesitantly as he read through, humming and haa-ing every so often as an interesting fact or two came up.
"Intriguing points." he said, making a mental note to have a word with the mysterious Patrician. Quirrell's work, albeit exactly what was asked of him, could quite possibly be seen as advocating the position he took rather than presenting the facts upon the issue. He didn't particularly fancy writing a letter of condolence to the boys parents, apologising for the fact that he'd been unable to keep the boy safe from harm's way.
"Which d-did you l-l-like m-most sir?"
Flitwick looked over at the boy. He wasn't what one really expected to find lurking with the Ravenclaws. An outcast within the outcasts. Not quite mad enough to fit in with the rest of them.
"Well." he said. "I really did enjoy the part about accession rights."
~
It was time for the Patrician to return. Instead of slipping into the school unnoticed, he found himself staring at the headmaster.
"Good morning Mister Dumbledore." he said with a raised eyebrow. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Your Lordship. Just the man I wanted to see. I thought perhaps you would like to meet the rest of the staff."
Not waiting for an answer, he took the man by the arm and led him in the opposite direction of his class. The Patrician was amused at the wizard's audacity, but decided against any permanent action.
"A delightful idea Mister Dumbledore." he replied as he removed the older mans arm.
The two walked in a companionable silence, mostly as all the questions that Dumbledore directed at his Lordship were deflected before they were even asked. The students that were lurking at this hour of the morning, mainly the Ravenclaws that suffered from chronic insomnia, were stunned to see the sweet innocent, slightly insane headmaster walking with what appeared to be the devil incarnate himself. They all knew about the Patrician - they just never expected to see the two together at the same time. Although someone (a drunk Hufflepuff who shall remain nameless for the sake of proprietary) had theorised while in the drunken stupor, that the two men were in fact the same person and their beloved headmaster had just snapped and become some sort of Jekyll and Hyde character.
This just proved that not all Muggle literature should be relied upon as historical fact - and yes. There was a need for Muggle Studies class. At least that way, wizarding folk might have some clue as to what passed for fiction these days. Hopefully an anonymous note, or maybe a hundred, spelled to the gargoyle outside the headmaster's office would encourage him to make a decision or two.
The Patrician now looked like he was actually participating in a conversation with the headmaster. In reality however, the man who was merely replying with generic answers which sounded like he was paying attention without actually doing so.
"Morning sir."
"Good morning Daniel." responded Dumbledore cheerfully.
McKinnon gave the old man an odd look and moved on. The Patrician smiled ever so slightly. Apparently Albus Dumbledore was oblivious to the fact that the world did not, in fact, revolve around him.
A few more salutations were proffered, all to which Dumbledore replied to. Only about three of them were directed at the man - the rest were meant for his Lordship. An irony that such a well respected man, wasn't all that well respected after all.
"Here we are then. After you."
"Why thank you Mister Dumbledore." replied the Patrician with open sarcasm.
Again. It bypassed Dumbledore's keen observations.
The staff room, he noted, looked rather ostentatious and particularly far too overdone in red and gold for his tastes. The headmaster must have finally noticed something about his Lordship's attention and where it was in fact directed.
"Grand isn't it? Godric Gryffindor himself designed and furnished this room specifically as a resting-place for the teachers when the school was first established. It has such a calming effect."
"Quite." responded the Patrician.
At least five of the eight teachers present tried not to choke on their drinks. A young hawkish looking woman with yellow eyes grinned at the taller man.
"Well said." she remarked.
The Patrician nodded his head ever so slightly, which then in turn made the grin broaden even further.
"Valerie Carter, the Flying Instructor here. You must be the famous Patrician of Ankh-Morpork."
"Indeed madam."
She laughed. "Quite the charmer aren't you? Funny. Minerva said the exact opposite."
"Valerie!" McGonagall's shrill voice sounded scandalised.
"Ah yes. The indomitable Miss McGonagall and I have had words. I had thought we had cleared the air surrounding the issue but it seems not." said the Patrician. "Perhaps I should vacate the vicinity lest my presence cause the Professor too much trouble."
"Nonsense." said Valerie. "You have a right to be here as much as any of the rest of us do." She offered her arm to the Patrician, who took it, and led him over to the far side of the room where the garish colours seemed to end not so painfully. "And if she doesn't like it." she whispered. "Then she can leave. Between her and the headmaster, it's a wonder the school hasn't been closed."
The rest of the staff introduced themselves and the Patrician found himself amidst the more liberal members of the teaching staff. He found them entertaining. At least until the last member arrived in the room.
The quiet discussion he had been holding with Corindor Sprout was rudely interrupted by a giant lummox of a man determined to introduce himself as none other than Rubeus Hagrid.
"Pleased ta meetcha." said the beast man and proffered his hand.
The Patrician looked at him and smiled, all the while looking disdainfully at the rather dirty looking hand.
"Indeed." he said.
The half giant was looking down on the thin man. The smile was... Well, he didn't really have the right words to describe it.. It was vaguely welcoming, yet if he moved forward and pressed his luck, then he quite possibly lose his hand or worse - his arm and maybe some more of anatomy. Perhaps, if the man before him were feeling generous, then he would retain at least one limb for use.
He'd been talking James Potter recently.
"If you will excuse me ladies and gentlemen. I must make preparations for my class this morning."
Hagrid unconsciously stepped back as the Patrician stood up and swept from the room. The little group of teachers he had been with sitting with turned away from the games keeper to continue the fascinating discussion they had begun with the Patrician. All that was, except for the small Ravenclaw Professor of Charms.
~
After bidding farewell to the staff, the Patrician hurried to his class - lest he be waylaid again by someone with "good intentions". Over all, the staff members were not as bad as the examples provided by Dumbledore and McGonagall. In fact, from general observation, the teachers appeared to be running the school rather than those that were deemed to "be in charge".
"Excuse me your Lordship. Might I have a word with you?"
The Patrician turned to see the tiny Charms Professor behind him."
"Mister Flitwick, how may I be service?"
"I wanted to speak to you about one of students."
"Ah. Would this happen to be about Master Quirrell and Miss Evans and the presentation they will be doing this morning?"
Flitwick was stunned into nodding. There was no possible way the man could have known. Unless the portraits had been gossiping again... That was a distinct possibility, he thought to himself. However, upon closer inspection of the inspection of the area surrounding the Patrician - all of the usually talkative subjects were missing.
A voice bought him back to reality with the following words, "I understand your concerns Mister Flitwick and I assume that no harm will come to the boy. The class will be made to note that this work between the two of them does not necessarily mean that they advocate that particular position."
The small Professor smiled. "Thank you your Grace. But how did you know where my concerns lay?"
"One should always make a point of knowing everything if one is to run an effective leadership."
Somehow the Patrician faded into the corridor. His strong presence lost into the stone that surrounded them. Flitwick shook his head. If the man weren't running a city somewhere else without any magic to his name - he'd hate to think of the devastation the man could cause here.
Flitwick wondered which side he would fight for. Allied with the side against Voldemort, he would more than likely defeat the evil wizard and perhaps it would be the next fight of the greats. Similar in stature as it was between Grindelwald. However, if he fought for Voldemort then there was no doubt that the side of Light would lie in decimated ruins and the High Lord of Chaos would reign supreme with a Council of Terror to support his sovereignty.
The Patrician was an enigma, which was quite beneficial if he thought about it long enough. At least with the air of mystery behind him - it would throw off the scent of the so-called head hunters that would seek the foreigner out for their own personal use.
The little man glanced around suspiciously - looking to see if there was anyone around that could have stolen his thoughts on the subject that was the elusive Patrician. Silently, he muttered a few words to Merlin before escaping the dark corridor that seemed to grow colder with every breath he took.
~
The twenty-one students shivered in the corridor outside their class. The door was unlocked but for some reason they were waiting for something. As per usual, the Patrician was nowhere in sight and the normally warring factions were subdued in their comments to each other.
"Would it be at all frivolous for me to ask why you are all standing in the corridor? Are we planning on holding the class here? Perhaps this was a new decree that I was not made aware of. Mister Pettigrew?"
"Yes sir?"
The Patrician raised and eyebrow. "It was not a rhetorical question Mister Pettigrew. I did not expect you to answer it."
Young Peter Pettigrew blanched. He had no clue what to say. He looked to Lupin for support. Ironically what he was seeking came from the most unlikely source of all.
The Slytherins.
"We were waiting for you sir." lied young Malfoy, a passive look covering his face. "We thought it would be polite."
"Is that so Mister Malfoy? Tell me, was this purely out of politeness or was there some other reason to be unprepared for my lesson?"
Lucius found himself falling through the loop. There was no way he could use subterfuge to escape from this trap that was being so effectively laid for him. Choosing not to say a thing, he entered a contest of will with the older and much more dangerous man.
It didn't take long to find himself stared down by the master.
"Shall we?" the Patrician asked as an open question.
"Yes sir." came the collective - and obedient - reply."
They parted, unconscious of doing so - not unlike that of a certain half-giant earlier that morn - as the Patrician breached the entrance to the classroom.
Silently, he was followed. The Patrician watched them from behind his desk. As far as he knew, and he made it a point to know, there had been no traumatic events at all which would cause such a despondent feeling in the class.
"Miss Evans, Mister Quirrell." he called out once the silent class had settled. "Are your individual speeches ready for your presentation?"
He received a rather bright response from Evans and a polite nod of the head from Quirrell. The Patrician cleared his throat. Immediately, all eyes were on his person.
"I would like to begin this class on the premise that what you are all about to hear is not necessarily the position that the person speaking will advocate. The pieces presented will be impassioned, the reason for this being that the propaganda of each side is very different to each other and this class is not about offering you choices in where your loyalty should lie - rather it is to establish the facts. This I have mentioned before, but for today I am reiterating that fact. Should there be any problems with what is said today - then you come to me. You will not take it upon yourself to solve any problems with the research conducted here. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir." chorused the class.
"Mister Quirrell and Miss Evans. To the front of the class please."
Quirrell followed Lily up. He stood beside her, genuinely worried about what this would turn out like. Although the Patrician had made it quite clear that retribution was not to be made, he couldn't help but feel that he was going to suffer something horrible. He wondered if he could pay McKinnon for a certain amount of protection.
"You may begin thank you."
Quirrell offered the stage to Lily freely, which she took of course - with the grace of spoilt attention-seeking brat. He counted to ten in his head before he made it to that special place in his mind where he could tune out everything that was far beneath his level of comprehension.
And Lily was in a category of her own way down there.
He found himself drifting through a world where the intellectually elite ruled and the inferior were stuck in a small box over in the corner. It was a truly happy place.
~
McKinnon looked up at the front of the class. Apart from the fact that there was probable cause that his ears were bleeding from the drivel that the Gryffindor was currently speaking, he couldn't help but noticed the look on Quirrell's face. It was almost as if he'd been mixing the entire contents of Sprout's back room together with a small amount of water from the lake and then proceeded to drink it.
Not that he had ever done such a thing - well. That he could remember anyway.
McKinnon looked around at the rest of his housemates and gestured towards the fifth year. Boot was the only one that responded. Using a complex set of hand gestures, he conveyed the fact that Quirrell was daydreaming. Quite possibly the same daydream that every Ravenclaw had when bored to death.
Daniel nodded and went back to not listening.
About twenty minutes later he found himself clapping.
Evans had finished.
"About bloody time." he muttered.
The Slytherin sitting next to him snickered in agreement.
"Such a way with words you have McKinnon. So delicate in your appraisal of things."
"Why how would you have put it Lestrange?"
Before Lestrange could answer however, the Patrician spoke.
"Thank you Miss Evans for your rather colourful approach. I see that you took my words at face value and used your own meaning to interpret what this was supposed to be about. What did you think I meant when I said non-partisan?"
"Exactly what I wrote sir. It outlines all the facts..."
"And yet somehow you have made this entirely about the side that you have chosen." interrupted the Patrician. "Your wording shows this. For an example you continuously refer to Godric Gryffindor as Godric and yet you choose to refer to Salazar Slytherin as Slytherin. Does this not suggest some sort of preference in your case?"
Lily wasn't entirely sure how to answer this. She honestly believed that what she had done was right. She smiled and looked at the man sitting at the desk.
Quirrell. Sensing more impending doom than usual he chose to speak up.
"S-s-sir? Can I s-s-start n-now?"
The sooner this was over then the sooner he could go back to the safety of his dorm room, charm the door locked and stay in there for the next three days. Presumably someone would bring him food.
He hoped.
"Indeed Mister Quirrell. Miss Evans. I wish to speak to you after class."
"Yes sir."
Quirrell took and deep breath and began his speech. This would be hard for him due to his speech impediment but somehow he managed to survive the first few words. From then on - it all flowed as it should...
"T-t-tensions are in the h-higher end of th-the extreme at this p-p-point in t-t-time as life has once again f-fallen into uncertain t-times. As m-my counterpart h-has s-s-suggested, this c-can be s-seen through h-history..."
~
The Patrician listened with interest. Quirrell seemed to be on the right track with his words. There were a few points that bought out the bias - but this was then covered over with a statement regarding the very words that were cause for concern. The boy had a talent for the oratory, even with the stutter which seemed to even out as the speech flowed.
This speech was almost three times longer than that of Evans'. More consistent as well. Although his eyes were trained upon the boy that was speaking, he was also watching the rest of the students. Many were making notes it seemed, possibly for after the presentation. The Patrician made a note to allow a question and answer session here in this forum, rather than letting this class bleed over - outside the safety of his care so-to-speak.
Lily's disposition he also took careful not of. Judging by the smooth features covering the murderous look, she would be having words with her partner. Well after this class was truly done and finished. That was another thing he put on his list to discuss with her.
But in what order though?
Her abysmal attempt at a basic form of English and attempt at following simple instructions, or, the way she had lorded power over a boy much younger - although a site more talented than she - than herself.
This decision could wait until after the class had finished. Where the majority of the questions lay would be his focusing point would start with her.
Five more minutes and then Quirrell was done. "Stay." said the Patrician as he and Lily were about to move back to their respective seats. "Does anyone have any questions?"
The fleeting look of hope that gave Quirrell an optimistic allure rather than the pessimist he usually was. Pity it lasted for only a few seconds and then the Patrician went and dashed all his hopes of freedom - well at least the chance to sit down and stop being under the scrutiny of so many people.
Was it hot in here or just him?
"Sir." came a broad Irish accent. "I have a question."
Quirrell saw the Patrician nod his assent and he waited for the verbal onslaught that Daniel McKinnon was about to unleash upon him. He took one last look at the mental world he had constructed in his head, sent a goodbye to his parents - apologising for not being able to finish school and be a better son, mentally outlined the people he was coming back to haunt and then decided against throwing a quick prayer up to the heavens. After all. What had they done for him lately?
Well apart from getting him into a class where he could experience his full potential and then making his life miserable for the sheer fun of it...
He could see the funeral now. His mother would cry and beat her chest. His father - the staunch man who never showed emotion - letting a single tear drip onto the mahogany coffin before saying what a good boy he had been and how proud of him he was...
"Yes this would be for Lily sir."
He should have fallen over until he saw the look that McKinnon sent his way. Being caught in a fantasy world in class was not what a reputable student from a reputable house should be found doing.
"Go on Mister McKinnon."
If ever a look of pure malevolent mischief should ever be entered in the books, Daniel McKinnon should pose for the portrait. He stood up and smiled - then the rest of the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins anticipating the slaying of the beast by a few choice cutting remarks.
The Ravenclaws caught each other's eyes and placed bets on how long it would take the whale to blubber.
"Lily could you please inform me where the basis of your points lie? I found it very difficult to understand with the bias and all. Who were you representing in the end? To me it sounded more like the headmaster rather than the actual facts. The rest of us just have to wonder where your information was supposed to lead us... Down the garden path, into the Forbidden Forest and perhaps eaten by something, dare I say - horrid?"
A chorus of snickers broke out in the Ravenclaw ranks. Contrary to common misconception, the Ravenclaws were particularly vicious especially when it came to the ignorance of a simple fact.
A thin smile crossed the Patrician's face. The only ones that looked objectionable to this treatment of Miss Lily Evans, were the Hufflepuffs and Lupin and Pettigrew. It appeared that the other Gryffindor was going to stay well out of this one. In fact it looked like Mister Ashlon was trying to defect to another House, or create his own.
"I'll have you know Daniel, the basis for my points lie within the history of this great institution and what has been shown outside of it."
A thought came to the Patrician's mind. Since when had this become a class for Political Evangelism?
Apparently McKinnon thought along the same lines.
"Would that be the history of 'The First Church of Godric Gryffindor' by any chance?"
Lily looked ready to spit tacks. Quirrell was slowly edging his way to the only exit route in the class. His escape was foiled by the head girl who latched onto him and started to snarl, "And what about him? He was all but asking you to join up!"
"Oh shut your trap Evans and leave the poor boy alone. Haven't you put him through enough trauma as it is?"
"Hey McKinnon. It's a touchy subject, so why don't we all calm down and talk about this rationally..."
"Give it a rest Lupin. McKinnon has a point about the harpy and if you and your little support group for the shrew could see the forest through the trees, then perhaps you'd understand. You did hear about the library incident did you not?"
"What library incident?"
"Yes Mister Snape. Do enlighten us all."
The class paused in mid-argument. The knew the Patrician had a knack for going unnoticed, but now they discovered he could fade into the back of their minds also.
"Mister Snape?"
"Yes sir."
Snape wracked his brain with what to say. It's not like he and Lucius had offered to help out and he was fairly certain that this would be noticed. Oh well. If he was going down then so was Malfoy. Slytherins stick together and all.
"Lucius and I were in the library together in order to finish off our homework..."
Two daggers were aimed at his back, that is one thing he was sure of. Thin slivers of silver just waiting for that pivotal moment to strike. He continued to tell his story - leaving out certain parts for safety's sake.
The Patrician said not a word throughout the tale. Lily turned an interesting shade of reddish-purple and Quirrell made for a sorry sight indeed. In fact, the words "You poor little bastard." came to mind when most of the students took in the pitiful look on his face.
His Lordship cleared his throat. "And did it not occur to either of you to help the boy?"
"No sir." said the two Slytherins.
An old Ankh-Morpork saying came to his mind. Something along the lines of bridges, the river that ran through it and someone yelling "For Gods Sake Man! Don't Do It!"
The application in this context being fairly obvious. Perhaps even to the headmaster of all people.
"How very Slytherin of you." remarked the Patrician. "Miss Evans do let go of Mister Quirrell."
"Yes sir."
With Quirrell now panting on the floor in and effort to regain the oxygen that had escaped his precious grasp, the class resumed its not so tolerable discussion of the presentations. This round however, the Patrician was going to play a more mediatory role than before.
"How many of you here found the presentations to be inflammatory? And yes, I am referring to both of the presentations not Miss Evans' alone."
Nineteen hands rose and chatter filled the air detailing the points where the students felt Lily and Quentin had delved off track and into a brainwashing scheme to steal souls and enlist each other into the ranks of darkness... Depending on what side you took and how you viewed the entire situation of course.
The soft silky word of "Silence." resounded in the class and its orders were followed.
"Tell me something children. Is there anything that you have learned in regards to what the actual issue means?"
A collective sickle dropped. One of the more timid students raised their hands.
"Mister Bones?"
"This stems from the last class doesn't it sir? You wanted to elaborate on what you said... Something about being able to see both side of the coin... You gave Lily and Quentin a controversial topic to exam and that's what they did. However, when we went to exam it - it was far more difficult than expected and we argued over the meaning of the topic. In effect sir, we just established another forum of politics in an effort to understand the wider world and how it all works."
"Very well done Mister Bones. Tell me something, when did you work this all out?"
Young William looked sheepish. "Not until you asked us what we had learned sir. I did review my notes from last week in order to try and see if there was something behind it all but I guess I still found it to be a little ambiguous."
The Patrician stood up. "That children, was a perfect example of what ideological differences mean and how one should view them. Yes, you can have you own personal point of view but in order to justify it you must be able to recognise what the opposition is looking towards. Politics is not for the closed-minded amongst us. A good politician must learn how to recognise the needs and wants of the people. Concessions must be made in order to run an effective government. I find it rather amusing that in this setting, none of you were willing to make concessions into understanding what was being presented to you. Yes. For the most part it was rather inflammatory but what else did you expect? Society, children. Is not run by universal harmony. People thrive on chaos, not love. This particular issue we shall continue next time we meet. Class dismissed."
All but Lily left. "Miss Evans." started his Lordship before she could speak. "Had you followed the instructions set, that would have been a perfect example of how your position developed in the political sphere. I find it disconcerting that my instructions were ignored so your own vision could be let loose on the students."
Lily looked at her shoes. "I apologise sir. I thought I was doing the right thing."
"Sometimes Miss Evans, the right thing is not always what one should do. Tell me something. Are you finding this course difficult at all? Because it seems to me that you are. If you wish to be removed from the class then I fully understand and I will have it arranged."
"No sir. I don't want that."
"Then what do you want Miss Evans? All its seems so far is that you are incapable of following a simple instruction and you want to attempt to cause me no end of grief. Is that your sole purpose for still being here Miss Evans?"
She looked up at him. Her face reddening and eyes swelling with unfallen tears. "I want to do my best sir. I want to prove that I can do this..."
"Then perhaps Miss Evans. You should think before you open your mouth to speak."
She nodded and he stood up to leave. He inclined his head to show that she was dismissed and as she left she turned, only to find the Patrician gone from her line of sight.
"Thank you sir." she whispered.
~
"Political Ideologies as we have discovered, are a subject which are not to be taken lightly.. They are controversial. They seek to favour one side only as we have seen in the last class. It is a version of political chaos so-to-speak. There is not one system that comes to my mind which does not have complications residing within the infrastructure..."
The class was listening to the Patrician with closed mouths and open ears. This time round, the children were expected to listen rather than be a part of the content that was offered today, although they knew that at some point they would be called upon to make an observation of sorts... Today they were learning about the reign of chaos over the reign of peace.
"Peace has good qualities, I will not deny that. The question I ask you is how many systems are based purely on a peaceful way in modern society? Mister McKinnon I do not appreciate that look. Perhaps if you knew anything on the study of tribal lives that still exist in today's modern world, then perhaps you would understand what I mean. There are cultures that live in relative peace within their own society, the only real threat to them being that of modern man and all his resources.
"Now class. You have listened, now I want your views. Why is it that chaos seems to form the most integral role of our society? What is it about the evolution of thought that has prevented people from becoming one and living in harmony?"
Hands rose at an unusually fast rate. In fact, nearly every single person in the room had their hand raised.
"Mister Ashlon?"
"I believe it's through the evolution of thought that has been the main emphasis on the fact that we cannot create universal harmony. Primarily our first goals were to survive. We were hunters and gathers and then came the coming together as a society. Darwinism is a key element here. Only the strong will survive. We got together and became a group rather than trying to live as an individual. The strongest is what the rest of us looked to and became the sovereign of sorts. With one person in charge of a group, that formed the first political forum. Admittedly this was the key basis for protection on the main part, but then we evolved as I said before. Society grew, as did our knowledge. We divided and conquered in order to show our prevailing dominance over the rest. We each have our differences and we aren't willing to look aside from them in order to make the world a better place. It's too deeply ingrained into our being. Each individual has to be the dominant one or else our thoughts will be infringed upon as will be our rights."
The Patrician looked pleased with the Gryffindor's answer. "Tell me something Mister Ashlon. How is it that you know so much about the subject at hand?"
"My father is a anthropologist sir and my mother is a lawyer. It's hard not to pick up on this sort of thing."
They all talked for once. As a class. Not one thing was rebuffed harshly. They accepted the differences between themselves. It would only last this one lecture, in this one class. They each bore the path of a different destiny that they must walk.
Unity was a very fragile thing to waste. Unity was also very dangerous. Even moreso than chaos itself. Residing in chaos there lived hope for perfection and the opportunity to be one's own self, whereas unity demanded they draw away from that and be like each other.
No distinction is what peace demanded from its followers.
"S-sir? Can there b-b-be such a th-thing as t-too much chaos?"
The Patrician paused. "Yes there can. Look at your world Mister Quirrell. Think in terms of times of peace. You had normalcy within society but yet there were still issues that remained unresolved. Chaos dwelled within and yet your civilisation survived in relative harmony. Now on a grander scope what do you have? Death, decay and destruction."
No one noticed when the headmaster poked his head in through the door. The Patrician of course saw him but he was not about to acknowledge the man's presence. He finally had a subject that the entire class was willing to participate in without trying to remove the opposition...
Well. McKinnon looked as if he was ready to hex any random student - quite possibly Lily Evans - but alas they ran out of time.
"We shall continue discussing this next week. Class dismissed."