Chapter Eleven
Defense against the Dark Arse
Ehlaana Mae found herself enjoying the company of Nicolas Thierry as they walked back to their Defense against the Dark Arts class after lunch. Students crowded in the corridors as they waited for Snape to arrive and unward the doors. There was whispering and staring when Ehlaana and Nicolas were seen standing alone in the corner, poised in chatty conversation. The pair seemed oblivious to those around them as if the students were large wall-statues and their whisperings, a mere zephyr.
Nicolas made sure that Ehlaana was too occupied in their conversation to notice the other students staring at them or the audible remarks they whispered amongst themselves. He flattered her and made her laugh to keep her mind off the others. Ehlaana was not so inattentive as to be oblivious of his attempts to distract her.
"I know what you're doing," she said coyly.
"And what am I doing?" he replied slyly as he shifted his shoulders slightly. She noticed that he shifted them often. A bad habit probably, she thought. Nicolas fitted his back comfortably into the hard, stone walls, his brows furrowed as he attempted to seem ignorant of her accurate observation.
"I'm fine, you know," said Ehlaana as calmly as she could. "I've always had someone talking about me or saying something moronic; the only difference now is that it's more than one person at a time." Nicolas remained silent as she spoke, although the half-formed smile on his face made his expression slightly perplexing. He was about to reply to her comment when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Stop your dawdling and get into the classroom!" Snape's voice cracked like a whip and its affect on his students was of a similar effect. No one wasted time filing into the classroom and finding their seats. Some rummaged hastily for their textbooks and quills before taking their seats.
Nothing should go wrong with their class that day, for Snape was without a doubt, in a foul disposition.
Snape swept gloriously into his class and immediately divided his students into
pairs. He briefly gave instructions on
the lesson that day and the notes they were to memorize and copy onto their
parchments. He returned to his seat and
remained completely still if silent for nearly half of the class.
His behavior of late, or for the past few days to be more precise, was indeed peculiar, and every student in class noticed it. Snape's constant rebuking and endless stings of bitter-nasty remarks that usually pervaded the quiet room was somewhat. lacking. With his back rigidly straight, and arms folded smartly over his chest, Snape seemed almost dead in his seat were it not for the infinitesimal shifting of his large, black eyes. His unusual behavior was most chilling if not daunting for his students. They would rather have a bitchy, moody Snape than an odd, immobile Snape any day.
"Put your parchments away!" Snape exclaimed over the quiet room. His loud voice came so sudden that a few students started in their seats. Snape had been so quiet throughout half of the class that they thought he had turned mute. He stood up and walked to the front of his desk with his trademark sneer in place. He leaned back on the edge of his desk and sat down quietly while his students quickly pushed their parchments to the side and stared unblinkingly at their Defense against the Dark Arts professor.
"Miss Mae!" Snape articulated over the silence. Ehlaana, shaking in her seat, was only too sure that her name would be the first thing out of her professor's caustic mouth. She looked up courageously and responded to Snape's call.
"Yes, Professor?" Her voice was unexpectedly fluent and she felt her blood rush to her face when she figured that Snape had noticed it also.
"Get up, Miss Mae," said Snape almost casually. Ehlaana got up, mustered all the strength she had or didn't have, and stood almost daringly in front of Snape. She couldn't for the life of her understand what had gotten into her. She only hoped that Snape did not notice it also.
"You are going to tell us, Miss Mae," said Snape mellifluously, "how a dark wizard would use an Opaleye to infiltrate Wizarding society; but tell us first what an Antipodean Opaleye is and where one could be found."
With an unperturbed expression, Ehlaana cursed her professor violently in her mind before bracing herself for the worst.
She had absolutely no idea who or what an Opaleye was or where one could be found.
*****
"Come in, Hermione! Come in. It is always a pleasure to see you." Dumbledore poured some tea into a cup and offered Hermione some as she took a seat. She declined, feeling too anxious to get straight to the matter she had come to discuss with the Headmaster.
"I want to thank you for seeing me, Headmaster. I know you're very busy today so I'll try and make this very quick."
"Oh, there is no rush," Dumbledore stated. "Minerva is after me to help her with Irma's party tonight and I'm afraid I wouldn't be much help in telling the difference between mauve and lilac tablecloths." The Headmaster chuckled lightly before taking a sip from his tea.
"I forgot to ask if we're required to dress formally," Hermione inquired as her face suddenly took on a solemn expression. "I haven't owned a dress since I was 17 and those that I do have are either too small or are reeking of mothballs in my mum's attic. I haven't any time to go and get a new one."
"Well, I am sure any dress will do, Miss Granger. I, myself, have been warned by Minerva to refrain from wearing my plum and orange polka-dot robe that I have worn to nearly every party I have attended since 1924. It's slightly torn on the sleeve but it's nothing a little magic couldn't fix."
Hermione scowled as the Headmaster adroitly dismissed her problem and went on about his. She couldn't really care less that Minerva forbade him to wear his polka-dot robe. Frankly, she thought it would do everyone a favor if he took Minerva's advice and refrained from wearing the polka-dot garment. She grimaced as their conversation quickly changed from dressing robes to Muggle Internet. Half of her free period was nearly spent on discussing the topic of Albus' wardrobe. Despite her mind-mumbling, Hermione remained silent and nodded as the Headmaster proudly discussed his collection of socks.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Headmaster, but I'm due in class in about 20 minutes-"
"Yes, I'm sorry, my dear. I understand that you have a matter you wanted to discuss with me today," Albus stated. "Is everything all right?"
"Well, I wanted to know if you had looked into the incident that occurred earlier this week with Peeves. Minerva told me that you had already talked to Filch and to the Bloody Baron and that everything was all right. I am sure that they told you exactly what went on down there, and yet I can't, for the life of me, understand how you can sit there so calm and unperturbed. Doesn't it disturb you that such a horrible thing was carried out here at Hogwarts?"
"It would have indeed disturbed me, Miss Granger, had it been administered on one of our students or any living human being here in out castle or anywhere else for that matter. Fortunately, in this case it was not, but on Peeves, a poltergeist."
"And what is the difference in that? Ghost or not, Albus, what I saw happen down there is nothing to feel fortunate about. I saw a poltergeist in such excruciating pain and I don't think anyone dead or alive should go through such a thing."
"Well, in that case, you are mistaken, Professor. What you saw was a rare sight. Like us, ghosts have their own ways of punishing or hurting each other. I have made it very clear to each of them that reside here in this castle just as many other Headmasters have done before me, that there is a certain boundary they can not cross when concerning this matter. The ghosts here at Hogwarts have always gotten along and I am grateful for myself and for everyone else here that they have not yet crossed this boundary, Miss Granger. I assure you that what you saw was no more painful to Peeves than a pinch on a cheek."
Hermione sat very still and on edge as she ran the information over in her mind. What she was hearing was slightly disappointing, yet also interesting. She was hoping that Filch would at least get a good slap in the face, though she knew that that was asking too much. She also wondered why she had never read much on ghosts and their lives. This would indeed be something that she will have to look up later. At the moment, she turned her attention back to Dumbledore and frowned as she realized that Filch had not done anything wrong.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that what went on down there was perfectly all right, but I will tell you now, Headmaster, that I will not allow for it to happen again. I will bring this matter up at our next staff meeting in hopes to prevent it from ever happening again."
"That is what staff meetings are for, Professor, and I will be glad to discuss the matter in our next meeting." Hermione nodded after a heavy silence passed. She was debating whether she should bring another matter up with the Headmaster that had been on her mind all day. It was rather personal and she felt slightly embarrassed to even bring it up at all. She agreed against it when she told herself that Albus might not know anything about it.
Hermione had decided to leave their meeting at that and head back for her dungeons when the Headmaster spoke.
"I have been meaning to ask you how our new student is doing. He seems well liked by our other professors. I wondered how he was doing so far in your class."
"Oh. Mr. Thierry is a very bright young man. He knows much on potions and has volunteered to help Miss Mae tonight in my dungeons. Potions is not exactly her specialty and our new student seems to admire her very much and is willing to help her as much as he can. I am glad for the both of them. I think that they will become the best of friends."
"That is indeed good news. I think Miss Mae has much potential in the subject, she reminds me of our Mr. Longbottom."
"Well, I doubt Miss Mae is as accident prone as Mr. Longbottom was, but they do seem to have similar qualities," Hermione stated. "How is Neville by the way? Have you heard anything from him?"
"Neville is in London at a University studying Biology. He was advised that it would help him much when he decides to teach Herbology. April is willing to hand over the responsibilities of her position to Mr. Longbottom if he decides to return to Hogwarts and become our next Herbology professor."
"Yes, majoring in Biology would indeed help him when teaching Herbology. Who advised him to go to a Muggle University? That was a very good advice." Hermione stared as the Headmaster ran his brittle fingers down the handle of his tea cup. Dumbledore smiled before adroitly shifting his eyes from her.
"It was Severus."
****
Severus arched his brow as far up as it could possibly stretch and glared disdainfully at the still Miss Mae. A dropped pin could possibly ring in everyone's ears as proof of the complete stillness and profound silence of the entire room. Miss Mae was pitied in the hearts of all her classmates, except one.
Nicolas felt more inclined to stand up for Ehlaana and to help her get over her fear of the spiteful professor. He could not fathom the idea that such an overgrown man could sleep at night knowing that he finds delight in bullying young, vulnerable women.
Ehlaana remained silent.
"Speak, Miss Mae! Is it so hard? Move the lips and rouse the tongue, or do you simply have less brains than I gave you credit for?" Snape's patience was running out, and his anger, quickly intensified.
At first, Ehlaana had planned on producing an answer, any answer. Severus' impatience had unfortunately prevented her from doing so. Now, all she could do was keep herself from bawling if she weren't already a few breaths from hyperventilating. She felt his black eyes penetrating hers and she found herself recoiling from him. Ehlaana, and not for the first time, wished that it was someone else being tormented by Snape and not her. Her classmates did not dare to look at Snape for fear that he would call upon them. Snape on the other hand was too occupied with terrifying the ignorant girl standing timidly before him to care about anyone else.
"What is it, then?" Snape inquired of Ehlaana. "Are you simply slow-witted or do you disregard me on purpose?"
"Perhaps, Professor," Nicolas stated casually, "that you are confusing inanity and self-control?" Every pair of eyes was simultaneously drawn to the source of the voice. Adam Wilson had credited the new student earlier for making Stephen French look like an idiot, but now he was convinced that the foreign student was completely mad and had lost his bonkers. He made a silent prayer for his end. He only wished that it wasn't so entertaining to see someone stand up against Snape. It was a pity that he would pay for it dearly.
Everyone held their breath in fear of what was about to unfold.
Severus, his eyes still set on Miss Mae, calmly unfolded his arms and stood up. His students wondered if he had not heard what Nicolas had said for he had not yet pounced on him yet or sucked the blood from his neck.
Severus glided towards his rebellious student and towered over the figure as if to swallow him whole. Nicolas, calm and composed, looked straight ahead and refrained from saying anything until he was spoken to.
"Do you have a problem with my methods of teaching, Mr. Thierry?" Snape showed no signs of leniency as he bent his gaze down onto the seated teenager before him.
"You seem to be a very educated man," Nicolas responded, looking straight ahead," I've no doubt that you are a qualified professor. It's compassion that you lack, Sir."
"Compassion?" he said inimically. "And what have I to be compassionate for.hmm? --spoiled, uncultured, little brats who believe education is a waste of leisure time when they could be loitering in the restrooms or flying broomsticks into trees?"
"Perhaps, then, you stumbled across the wrong profession, Sir, if that is indeed your labeled impression of all your students. I think one should be patient and understanding when teaching. A pedagogue who finds his students uncultured should do well to edify them."
Severus snorted at that. If it were some other time or day, he would not have allowed anyone the chance to speak their mind, but today was different-he felt challenged, and whether he wanted to listen to his student's opinions of him or not, he didn't really seem to have much of a choice. It wasn't everyday that he allowed himself to listen to a pupil state his ridiculous thoughts on him. None of the other prats would have dared to do so.
"Understanding, you say; and you are qualified to make this assessment?" Snape scoffed.
"I am only giving you a different perspective-a student's perspective, Sir, just as one would lend the use of his sight to aid a blind man." This was a shrewd and subtle hit. Snape's unfairness and discrimination were no surprise to anyone. He was rather narrow-minded when it came to opinions other than his own and it didn't take a new student to realize that much.
"What you are saying then, Mr. Thierry, is that because I am unfair, lack understanding, patience, and compassion (among other things), I am not qualified to be a professor?" Snape's tone was unsteady and he spoke without reserve. He was obviously getting angry. "Why should I be sympathetic towards those who think learning is beneath them?" Snape referred to Ehlaana and every other student who had done poorly in his class. "--or perhaps you all seem to think that my job is simple and that possessing these qualities would qualify anyone for the job? And because we live in a magical world, the information I dispense would somehow magically infuse itself into your brains?" Snape's hand, hidden under his robes, waved about in front of him as he said this before turning suddenly on to Ehlaana.
"Miss Mae!" Ehlaana startled from where she stood and panicked as he turned towards her. "Tell me! Are you disabled, Miss Mae, that I should be sympathetic towards you?" Ehlaana gaped as she tried desperately to answer his odd inquiry. "Well? Are you disabled or not?"
"N-no S-sir."
"Do you know how to read or write?"
"Yes."
"And do you have a problem, Miss Mae, learning the lessons that I teach you-lessons containing the same information that I give to your classmates?"
"N-n-no, Sir, I d-don't."
"Then why, in the name of Merlin, don't you know what an Antipodean Opaleye is? It is right there in your book." Snape whipped out his wand and with surprising agility and speed, directed it towards Ehlaana, and shot forth a swirling wisp of light. Ehlaana fell back in her seat in shock as her textbook shot up in the air and flew open. The leaves rapidly turned to the desired page Snape sought after and stopped abruptly. There before the entire class was a small picture of an Antipodean Opaleye at the bottom left corner of page 43, magically enlarged for the class to observe.
"Does that seem familiar to you?" Snape snapped, no longer caring to repress his anger in front of his students. He pointed his wand toward the book, mumbled something under his breath, and directed his wand forcefully towards the blackboard. The words from the book transferred to the board, though they seemed slightly splattered. The words were illegible as if Snape's anger had affected the magic that scrawled them.
A Native of New Zealand, the Antipodean Opaleye dwells in valleys rather than in mountains.
With iridescent, pearly scales and glittering, pupil-less eyes, the Opaleye is one of the most beautiful dragons in the world.
They shoot forth a vivid, scarlet flame, and are a fairly small size for dragons. They are responsible for the kangaroo killings in the 1970's.
The writings in the text were so minute that most of the class realized that they had missed it as well.
"Did you catch that piece of information while you were doing the assigned homework?" Snape continued. The class took Ehlaana's silence as a 'no'. Snape turned from Ehlaana with obvious dislike and spoke loudly enough so his class would know that he was now referring to all of them.
"If you are like Miss Mae here, and happened to miss that piece of information, then I suggest you not blame my impatience for your solecism. If I am guilty of stolidity than perhaps you should all grow up and show me that I am educating a group of students and not a horde of toddlers. This is not a pastime and I am not here to play wand and watch my work pass through one ear and out the other. If compassion is what you seek in a professor, then perhaps YOU are all stumbling in the wrong profession. You can find the Gamekeeper outside, across the lawn. He will tell you that compassion is required to tend the beasts. I am sure you will all become great Beast Masters and Gamekeepers.
"So, forgive me if I am not tolerant of your lack of consistency to keep up in my class but I despise mediocrity, and arrogance most of all." Snape turned around to face Mr. Thierry, sitting stolidly in his seat. "-something, you seem to have in spades."
Nicolas remained seated, silent, and undoubtedly indignant. Snape had won this round so far but he did not seem to have enjoyed it, oddly.
"You will remain after class so we can discuss your detention, Mr. Thierry." Snape returned to his seat and sat the remaining 10 minutes of class in silence.
He was having a horrible day.
****
