Revolutions

Chapter 9: Werewolves

By Seadragon

"Welcome to your second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As most of you know, I am Professor Weasley, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. If you listen, I might be able to teach you how to survive in this world, and what you need to look out for. If not, I wish you all the best."

Needless to say, Professor Weasley was not what I had expected. From the picture Dad had painted for me, I had expected someone who didn't want to smile. From what I could see, it wasn't that she didn't want to smile, it was that she didn't know how.

She looked older than she could possibly be. If she was the same age as my dad, she had to be 32 or 33. Professor Weasley had obviously seen a lot, and was still haunted by it.

As she glanced around the classroom, the class sat attentively, waiting for her next words. They clearly had a lot of respect for her, and enjoyed this class. I tried my best to seem small and insignificant, not too difficult unfortunately. But her eyes met mine none the less. What I saw in them was pain, and barely contained anger. Briefly, she looked away, and attempted a weak smile for the class's sake. It seemed I was right, the smile was pained and unconvincing. It seemed as though she hadn't truly smiled for years. I had to wonder just what had gone wrong.

"Today we will be learning about werewolves." There was that look again, as though the world had ended. Like nothing could ever be right again. "Please open your textbooks to page 394 and begin reading." The class hurried to obey, and the sound of pages rustling was all that could be heard for a minute or so.

I was among them, wondering what I had missed last year that had made them so interested in everything this teacher did. At last I found the right page, and began to read.

Werewolves in Europe

There are no safe ways to deal with a werewolf. If you ever encounter one, there are only two things you can do.

1) Shoot it with a silver bullet, a silver tipped arrow, or a silver knife.

2) Run.

If you know that a colleague, friend, or acquaintance is a werewolf, do not hesitate to kill them. They are monsters and should be treated as such. You will not be persecuted for this, but thanked. Werewolves are dangerous to society and have to right to live.

There are several ways to distinguish a werewolf from a real wolf.

1) The snout shape.

2) The pupils of the eyes

3) The tufted tail

As every child knows, a human is turned into a werewolf when bitten by one. A werewolf is harmless except on days of the full moon, when they are turned into savage murderers.

Werewolves are quite distinct from other magical creatures in they hunt humans almost exclusively.

There is no known cure as of yet, but due to recent advances in potion-making, many of the symptoms are alleviated…

About to turn the page, Professor Weasley interrupted me. "Has everyone gotten to the bottom of the first page?" The entire class nodded. "Good." She said curtly. "Forget everything you have read there, and rip that chapter out of your textbooks. Now." Her voice left no room for argument.

Curious whispers and the sound of ripping paper filled the classroom.

Once I had thrown my pages out, I watched the professor, who was leaning against her desk with tears in her eyes. I turned to Natalie, who was watching her mother with confusion. I got the feeling that she hadn't told Natalie everything.

Regaining her composure, Professor Weasley looked at all the expectant faces watching her, waiting for an explanation for what she had just made them do.

"Every word that textbook wrote on werewolves is complete, and total, bullshit. The only dependable thing it says about them is how to recognize them. Werewolves are not murderous. They are not monsters. If I ever hear of any of my students hunting werewolves, you will wish you had never left the safety of your parents' arms. Whoever they maybe."

She paused for a minute to let her words sink in. As they did, students sat back in their seats and stared at her. I however had heard the last words plainer than anything else she had said. The implication in them was all too clear.

But still I just sat there and took her implied abuse.

"Werewolves are normal people, and should be treated as such. They just have the bad luck of becoming an animal once a month. They deserve the same respect you give everyone else." The warning in her words was evident, I wondered what had happened to make her feel so strongly about this. "If you come across a werewolf on the night of a full moon, who has not taken his or her Wolfsbane potion, run. They cannot control their actions and are unaware of what is happening."

The class hadn't made a noise since she had told them to rip the pages out of their books. It seemed as though no words since her quite obvious threat had penetrated their brains.

"Moon!" She barked. "Where did the werewolf originate from?"

"Umm, Europe. Northern Europe." Hunter said, stumbling over his words slightly. She nodded briskly, and turned to another student.

"Weasley!" When both Natalie and Katrina looked up, she pointed at Katrina. "What is a werewolf's Patronus most likely to be?"

"A moon or something sharp and silver." Katrina said promptly, giving the professor a small smile.

"Very good." She said hesitantly, and moved on. "Longbottom! What causes a human to be turned into a werewolf?"

"A bite." Thomas had a self satisfied smirk on his face that I was tempted to wipe off. I never got the chance though, thanks to Professor Weasley.

"Potter! Who was the first werewolf to teach at Hogwarts, and what did he teach?" Everyone's eyes swung to me, and I felt myself going red.

"Umm, it's Potter-Malfoy actually." The second those words were out of my mouth, I knew it was a mistake to say them. But they had bought me some time, and I started glancing around the room, hoping that for some strange reason the answer would be there. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

Professor Weasley did not look impressed. "Your father is Harry Potter, is he not?" Afraid to do anything else, her threat still fresh in my mind, I nodded. "Then your last name is Potter."

I knew I shouldn't argue, but I would regret it for ever if I didn't. "It's Potter-Malfoy." I said firmly. "You were at the Sorting. You heard." I dimly heard Alex's sigh, but ignored it. I looked Professor Weasley in the eye, and didn't like what I saw there. It was pure anger, any restraint she had had earlier was gone. Tears were gathering in her eyes, but I didn't back down.

"Out." She croaked.

I stared at with disbelief. She couldn't kick me out of class for telling her my name could she? It just didn't seem fair. But the look on her face made me stand up and walk towards the door. It was pain. I was causing her pain.

I caught a look in a mirror on my way out, and I saw what I had seen everyday of my life. My father. That was what she had seen when I had walked into her classroom, and into her life. Her best friend, who she hadn't spoken to in thirteen years, if my guess was right.

Subdued, I walked out of the classroom with my eyes on the floor.

As I passed across the threshold, I heard a faint sigh of relief behind me.

But where was I supposed to go?

No one really wanted me here. My dorm mates hated me, except for Alex. The teachers hated me. It seemed like the whole world hated me. And for what?

For what you represent, a voice in my head whispered. You are doing no one any good by being here.

I ignored it. Well, tried to, it's hard to ignore yourself.

As I walked along the corridors, I watched my feet. I was too ashamed to look up. Why had I pressed her? It was obviously hard for her to teach me, but I had had to go and make a scene over a name.

Subconsciously, my feet were taking me to the Gryffindor tower. I leaned against the stone wall next to the portrait hole. I didn't want to go inside, there was no reason to. I would just stay here until the first class was over, then head over to History of Magic and meet up with Alex and Natalie.

I stood in silence for a while, but soon I was aware of the whispers coming from my left.

"Excuse me-? James?" The voice was coming from the portrait, but it wasn't that of Sirius Black. Just like he had been all alone in there last night, now it was just the tall blond. I pushed myself of the wall until I was standing straight in front of him. "Hello, my name's Remus Lupin, another friend of your family." He smiled, and I tried to smile back. "I was just wondering, what are you doing out of class?"

"I got kicked out. We were studying werewolves, and she asked me who the first werewolf to teach at Hogwarts was, and what he taught. I don't know the answer."

"And that is why she kicked you out? Because you didn't know the answer. I doubt it, I knew Hermione well." He had a faraway look in his eyes, and if I hadn't said anything, he probably would have stayed that way all day. As it was, I coughed lightly, and he jumped. "Er, sorry. So, why did she kick you out?"

I had to smile, he was likeable enough. "I corrected her. I told her my last name was Potter-Malfoy, not Potter. And she told me to leave."

Remus sighed. "Well, you have to understand how difficult this is for her. And in case she asks you that question next time, the answer is Remus Lupin, and Defense Against the Dark Arts." And he walked off the edge of the picture, leaving me to contemplate what he had said.

He had said he had known her. What had happened to him? My mind connected what he had said about her question, and her response to what it said in the textbook.

A hunt maybe?

But lead by who?

Something told me I really wouldn't like the answer.