CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN: THE NEW PROFESSOR


"I'm on probation," Hagrid said to Malcolm.

"You don't seem too upset by it."

Hagrid actually laughed. "After making a fool of Umbridge, I'm surprised she didn't try to sack me right off. It bothers me, but I have a few things to make me feel better, like my new godson."

Malcolm smiled at the thought. "Hagrid, I feel weird talking to you like this. I'm not used to being nice to teachers."

Hagrid grinned through his recent injuries, which Malcolm knew better than to comment on. "Tha's all right, Malcolm. Most teachers aren't used to being nice to the likes of you."

Malcolm grinned in return. "I have to get to the school, but I think your real friends are coming."

Hagrid looked from the door of his hut and saw Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys walking up the path to the school, "I'll be seeing them later." He turned back to Malcolm and said, as a parting shot, "Sometimes, ye just don' know who yer real friends are." He winked at the surprised boy, then went back inside his hut.

*

Rose Zeller looked into the DADA class out of curiosity after she looked through the glass in the door and saw herself sitting at a desk reading along with the rest of the class. She opened the door and the classroom was empty except for Malcolm sitting at the teachers desk.

"I'm sorry. Am I disturbing you?"

Malcolm looked up. "No, I was trying to catch up on my Arithmancy."

"I looked through the window . . ."

"Do you like it?" Malcolm asked with a grin. "The trick was to enchant the glass so it was class specific. It shows whichever class is supposed to be in here."

"You did that."

"Professor Vector helped with some of the trickier parts. If you wait a few years, she'll teach you how to do it."

"If she actually teaches it. Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"What are we supposed to be learning in this class?"

"According to Umbridge, nothing."

"I'm serious," Rose said. "You've read the papers about those escaped convicts. I've heard stories about them but I can't believe that some evil person will stand around while I look for a teacher, unless they're evil AND stupid."

"Most of it is common sense," Malcolm told her. "What you should be learning at this point is not so much how to defend yourself, but exactly what it is you need to defend yourself from. Most kids who come here don't really understand what magic is, even kids from wizarding families."

Mitchell, another first year had stuck his head in the open door and was listening to what Malcolm said. "Then tell me, what exactly is magic."

"You both know how to do spells, some spells." Both Hufflepuffs nodded. "It isn't enough to simply say the words, although with the easy spells it seems that way. The thing most kids don't understand, and nobody seems to teach is that you need to know what you're trying to do, and how. It's like I told one of the kids I tutor. When you cast the spell you should be thinking about the results instead of the method . . ."

For most of an hour, Malcolm tried to explain the basics of magic, something that didn't seem as easy as he first thought. Rose and Mitchell left feeling content with his explanation, but they were back the next scheduled class with two other classmates. That Friday, Malcolm walked in to see ten expectant faces.

[Oh, God. They all came.]

"Do all of you really expect me to teach you? I'm not a teacher."

"Sir," one boy asked, raising his hand. "I wanted to ask you about implications. You didn't explain that fully the last time."

"That's right," a girl said.

"Fine," Malcolm said. "When I talk about implications, I'm referring to intent. Are all of you clear on what I mean when I say intent?"

Rose raised her hand. "Intent is the desire that motivates a spell. It is not enough to want something, we have to know what we want and to have as clear an idea as possible."

[Did you see that? She read from her notes. These kids are actually taking notes in my class.]

[NO. I didn't mean that. This is not a class. I'm only answering a few question.]

"You quoted me word for word. But do you know what it means?"

Ruth frowned. "It means that, say I want to bake a loaf of bread by magic, it's not enough to know I want a loaf of bread, I need to know how to bake it."

"Close, you're describing the rules of the formula, the context of the spell. When you intend, you have to conceive, you have to hold the idea in your mind, of a baked loaf of bread. When you formulate the spell, that is when you need to know how."

Several students nodded.

"Implication," Malcolm said. "To imply. Let's stick with the analogy of the loaf of bread. When we alter a spell, we alter the intent. If we do not keep the proper image in mind, we are also making a change in the spell, although not as drastic in most cases. For example, when we cast the spell to bake a loaf of bread and we imagine, say, eating a toasted slice with butter. We've implied something else. The spell is correct and the bread bakes, but it could have a slight buttery taste. That would be a nice extra. But it could end up being a loaf of toast. Think of the loaf as being one giant crust. By letting your mind wander, you've ruin a perfectly good loaf of bread. Mitchell?"

"That doesn't seem like much of a change."

"You're thinking small. Let's try it on a larger scale. Has anyone here ever been to St. Mungo's for treatment?" Two students raised their hands. "Would either of you have preferred to have the doctor thinking about his dinner when he was helping you or are you happy that he concentrated on the task at hand?"

Malcolm smiled as he saw their reactions. He had made his point.

[I don't believe this. I am a teacher. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.]

Malcolm pulled out his wand. "Who has their wands?"

Half the students raised their hands. "You," Malcolm said pointing at one girl who did not raise her hand. "Why didn't you bring your wand?"

"Professor Umbridge . . ."

"She isn't here. I am. When you come to my class, bring your wand from now on. Do you understand?"

The girl, and most of the students, grinned. "Yes, Professor Malcolm."

"Those who have them, put your wands on your desks, out of the way but easy to get if you need to, and visible to you at all times. I want a volunteer. One with a wand."

A boy stood up, holding his wand.

"Cast the Lumos spell."

"Lumos," the boy called out and the tip of his wand lit up.

"Very good," Malcolm said walking up to the boy. "Do it again."

The boy started to cast the spell but Malcolm put his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Continue," Malcolm told the boy, but kept his hand over the boy's mouth. "You did fine," Malcolm said, and motioned for the boy to sit down. He walked back to the front of the classroom and held up his wand. He said nothing. The tip of his wand light up. It's pale color changed to red then to gold. Malcolm put his wand away.

"Intent and Implication," Malcolm repeated. "If you know what you intend with a clear enough vision you do not need words. Words and hand gestures are only rituals. A powerful wizard is one who knows that intent is what is important. And that is why we have this class. Intent is what makes the difference between ordinary magic and the Dark Arts."

[Next week, I'm going to start giving out homework.]

*

"Hem. Hem."

Malcolm looked up from his lunch to see Professor Umbridge looking at him.

"I looked in on your classes several times this morning," Umbridge told Malcolm. "I was most gratified to see the first years leaving your class without the usual raucous behavior. I particularly like to check on them."

[Here it comes. I'm finally off the hook.]

"Hem. Hem. My new duties are very taxing, and despite your ridiculous posturing outside of this school, I've decided that you can continue monitoring my classes. Professor Dumbledore has assured me that you are sufficiently advanced in your studies. This should not set them back too much."

"In other words, my punishment is to do nothing all day unless you let me."

"You do have a clever mind, you horrid boy."

[That's weird? I'm still stuck. How come I'm not upset?]

Umbridge walked to the teachers table with a satisfied grin.

"What was that about?" Neville asked.

"You know how Dumbledore let me take all of those advanced classes? Umbridge thinks its fun to make me take no classes, except for the ones that don't conflict with her schedule."

"I wish you monitored our class. I could use a free period."

"That will never happen. She hates Potter. That's why she keeps monitoring that one herself." Malcolm looked up as a first year walked by. "Euan, you missed class today."

"What a surprise," Euan Abercrombie said with a laugh.

Malcolm gave him a strange smile. "Euan, let the other's know. There's no more free time."

Euan gave Malcolm a funny look. "I'll let them know." He walked away, looking back several times.

"I suppose you want an explanation," Malcolm said.

"No," Neville said. "I clearly heard Umbridge say she was checking on the classes. I'll pass the word around." Neville gave Malcolm a wink.

"Um, Neville. She's only checking on the first years right now."

"Only first years," Neville nodded. "I'm curious. About the class she saw. Why."

Malcolm understood the question. "I have to. There isn't anybody else. The older students are fine. They seem to learn enough on their own." Two pairs of eyes flashed briefly towards Potter. "These kids don't even know where to start."

"Nobility?" Neville asked with a grin.

"Bad conscience," Malcolm admitted. "I blame my Mom."

"If you want, I could have Gran talk to her?"

Neville grinned as Malcolm glared at him.

"Hi," Ginny said as she sat down across from the two boys. "Malcolm, what's going on? Fred and George were talking to the first years when Euan came up and said they had to go to Defense Class."

"Umbridge is stopping by first year classes to make sure everything is normal," Neville offered. "She was even seen waiting outside the Hufflepuff class, to watch them leave."

Ginny looked shocked. "What happened?"

"We lucked out," Malcolm admitted. "They were all there having a class of their own that day. If It had been any day before that, or any other class . . ."

"I'll let the twins know. They're free that period. It was one of their . . . Hi, Hermione."

"Hi, Ginny, Malcolm. Uh, hi Neville." Hermione politely smiled and kept walking.

"What was that about?" Malcolm looked at Ginny then at Neville.

"We were at the hospital on Christmas with Harry and Ron," Ginny said. "Visiting my Dad."

Neville nodded. "They ended up in the permanent ward, visiting a former teacher."

"He got loose and we were walking him back," Ginny explained. "Neville and his Grandmother were there."

Malcolm nodded. "You never told them."

"No, I didn't even let them know I already knew."

"Harry knew," Neville said looking at Malcolm. "Someone told him."

"It was Dumbledore," Ginny explained. "Harry told us afterward, but he said he was told to keep it a secret. He didn't explain why."

"I trust Dumbledore," Neville said evenly. "I do, but . . . sometimes it's hard."

*

The first year Gryffindors walked into the Defense class and sat down. A minute later, Fred and George came in. "Malcolm's spell is still working," George pointed out. "All we have to worry about is if Umbridge wants to watch you leave."

As Malcolm entered, Fred opened his robes and pulled out a box. "Today, children, we will be testing our newest creation, unless the teacher has something to say?"

Malcolm looked up in surprise, then closed the door behind him. He put his books on the teachers desk. Everyone stared at him. He turned to Fred and George who both winked at him. Malcolm shook his head ruefully, then pulled out his wand. He did not know it but he then did a perfect impersonation of another teacher.

"If you wish to observe the class, the two of you may do so but stay out of the way, and keep silent. I don't let anyone talk without my permission."

With amusement, the twins took seats in the back of the class, bur Fred kept his box out. Malcolm turned to the first years.

"Everyone, take out your wands."

The first years looked amused, but one by one they complied. The twins, grinning, pulled their wands out as well.

"Put them on the desk in front of you. In easy reach but out of your way, and visible at all times." Everyone did as instructed. "Who knows how to perform a spell?"

A couple of students bothered to raise their hands.

"Who knows why?"

"Magic?" Matthew Zeller answered as a joke.

"That's a good answer, Malcolm admitted. "What is Magic?"

"What?" Zeller laughed.

"You're from a wizarding family. A lot of the others aren't. You can help them. What is magic?"

"Is this a joke?"

"It's a serious question. If you don't know the answer then say so."

"This is a waste of time," Zeller said as he got up to leave.

"You're already a week behind the Hufflepuffs, Matt," Malcolm called out. "You don't want some stupid mudblood with the same name being smarter that you."

Matthew Zeller turned around, in a rage. "You have no right to use a word like that. It's despicable and demeaning."

"You had no problem with it four months ago."

If Mathew Zeller had been hit full force with a stunning spell, he would have looked the same as he did in that moment. He hung his head and said, "That was then."

He looked up and saw Malcolm, watching him without malice or anger.

"And this is now," Malcolm said. "Take your seat and we'll get started with the class."

Fred and George looked at each other as they observed the confrontation. Malcolm couldn't have handled it more smoothly if he had planned it. They noticed how the first years had even been surprised by what Malcolm did. They both smiled as Malcolm began to speak.

"Magic is all around us and in each of us in this classroom. Those who can handle magic the best are the strongest and most powerful wizards and witches. Those who best understand what magic is can best handle it. With magic, Knowledge literally is power. If you know what you want to do, you can do what you want. That is the way magic works. I want everyone to cast the Lumos spell." Malcolm watched the class. "Lesson One: Formula and Intent. Now, how many of you can cast that spell with a hand over your mouth?"

*

Matthew Zeller and Euan Abercrombie sat at the table in the common room.

"I can't believe he gave us homework, Euan."

"Matt, I can't believe we're doing the homework."

Jenny walked by. "Are you still working on that? He only wanted three inches."

"It's not that easy," Euan complained.

*

Hermione went to sit down in her usual spot when she saw a familiar figure in a corner of the library. She walked over to greet him. "Malcolm?"

Malcolm jumped.

"I didn't meant to scare you," Hermione whispered softly.

"I didn't hear you. I was really into this book," Malcolm said apologetically, while trying to cover the book with his arm."

"That's Basic Magical Theory? Why would you want to read that?"

"It's, um, one of the first years. He asked me a question and I answered him but he didn't understand the words I used. I was looking up how someone answers the question in simpler terms. I mean," Malcolm said with a laugh, "Not everyone is a smart as us."

"That's a nice thought," Hermione admitted. "What are those other books? Moral Dilemmas in Black and White? The Dark Defense?"

"It's a case study of arguments on what constitutes Dark Magic. That other book is more of a primer. It's not very good unless you're starting out."

Hermione looked at the last book. "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish? That's Dr, Suess?"

"Yeah, it's really weird. It's the same book I remember as a kid but the pictures move. They have the entire collection in the archive section. I should warn you, you don't want to read Green Eggs and Ham."

"I'll take your word for it." Hermione shook her head as she went to sit at her usual spot. Malcolm always seemed to be doing the strangest things. She looked up at him and smirked. Mrs. Norris was sleeping, curled around one of his legs.

*

"We have a few minutes before the end of class," Malcolm said. "Are there any questions? Dewey?"

"Malcolm, how can you be such a creep as a brother, but you can be a really good teacher?"

"It won't work, Dewey. You didn't do your homework. You don't do it tonight you have a choice. Detention with me, or I tell Mom."

"How many inches?" Dewey asked sadly.

"Six, plus an extra inch for being a day late."

Another Slytherin boy raised his hand. "I didn't do my homework either. Are you going to tell my mom?"

"NO, I'll tell my mom. She can explain it to your mom a lot easier than I can. But she'll be nice about it. My mom will start with something like, 'Have you heard the latest about that lazy kid of yours.' Remember, Seven inches, on my desk at the beginning of next class or I send out the owls."

"Did you know," one girl said, "All one of us has to do is tell a teacher what you're doing."

Malcolm smiled. "But then, all of us have to admit that we never went to class the entire first term." The girl smirked at the answer but Malcolm continued, "All you really have to do is not show up. If you're not here, I can't do anything. It's only if you stay that you have to play by my rules."

The girl hesitated. "I'll be here, but, how many of the others don't bother to show up?"

"Everyone shows up," Malcolm admitted. "I think we all understand that it's important."

When the class ended the girl whispered as she passed by, "You're a great teacher, Professor Malcolm."

[I wonder how my groupies would react to that statement?]

*

"I've been helping some of the first years with their homework," Dennis Creevey said. "They seem to have an extra class."

Malcolm looked up from the papers on his desk. "That's nice, Dennis, but I'm busy."

"Correcting homework papers, it seems. Could you explain what you meant by Implication Parameters?"

"Not in one sitting, Dennis. Unless you're good with big words."

"Is that a yes?"

"Okay, I'll explain it."

"Great," Dennis said and walked to the door. He opened it and said, "He'll do it."

Malcolm stared in horror as ten Gryffindor second years walked in and sat down at the desks. He stared at the open door when he saw movement. It was Fred Weasley closing it for him.

*

"We were curious," Fred asked when he and George cornered Malcolm in the common room. "The Lumos Charm that you did. How many other spells can you do like that?"

"I can also do green and blue."

That's not what we mean," George said in a conspiratorial voice. "How many different spells can you do without waving your wand or anything."

Malcolm shrugged. "Only that one. It's the easiest spell there is."

Fred and George nodded in agreement. "If we can get rid of Umbridge, will you teach our class?"

"What can I teach you guys that you don't already know?"

"Then we'll teach you," Fred replied.

"It will make the class more interesting," George admitted.

Malcolm shook his head. "Just don't give me any more classes. Thanks to you the Hufflepuff second years are showing up as well. Do you know how much work it is to teach a class? I've lost all of my free time. I am only a third year."

"Should we tell him about the Ravenclaws?" Fred asked his brother as Malcolm walked away.

"Let it be a surprise," George suggested.