A/N: I should be preparing for my AS English exam tomorrow. I should not be
writing fanfiction with a bad cold anyway, but Georgia has been pestering
me since a discussion on FictionAlley set up a challenge – can a Mary Sue
be likable? Human? (Georgia began dancing around, poking her tongue out and
waving, singing nursery-rhymes at this point)
So Georgia is back. –edit after chapter write. Or maybe she's not...
/
"I can't believe he did that!" Ron fumed, slinging his quill into his bag in a fit of bad temper, and accidentally breaking the nib. "Oh no, Mum'll kill me. That's the second quill that's happened to."
"Well, we did expect it," Harry answered gloomily. An entire lesson at the end of Snape's biting sarcasm was a direct result of knowing a little more about Snape than the Potions Master wanted them to. The little occurance with Legilimency last year had given Harry an insight into the bitter man, whether he wanted it or not. Even that, though, Harry reasoned, wasn't enough to stop him loathing the man whose preconceptions had aided Voldemort to kill everyone he'd had as close family.
"So how many points did we lose?" he asked, quickly changing the subject before his mind drifted off the point. Ron totted them up on his fingers, his lips moving as he counted under his breath. He looked doleful.
"Enough."
"What's next?" Harry inquired, trying to lighten the mood. Ron inspected the bit of parchment that had the class schedule on it. "We've both got Defence Against the Dark Arts, haven't we?"
"Yes," Ron replied, stuffing the parchment back in his bag with a grin. "Professor Reynolds. Hah, wonder how Malfoy's going to take being taught by a Muggle teacher?" he looked almost gleeful at the prospect. Harry felt rather guilty; Malfoy's habit of making life difficult for the teachers he didn't particularly like had always been a problem.
"At least we don't have Malfoy in lessons," he reminded Ron. At that point, Hermione caught up with them from Professor Vector's class, and the three proceeded to Defence Against the Dark Arts.
/
They found seats fairly close to the front, looking around the classroom. It had changed many times in the past, from large portraits of Lockheart on the walls to Umbridge's foul kittens, and now it was very different.
Shelves of books stood against the walls, their spines green, red, blue and black, bound in shabby leather. Newer books clustered around the desk at the front, piles of books on the floor and tables. There were some pictures on the walls – an Eastern-looking tapestry rug hung in one corner, and some illuminations from old books were framed around the walls; large letters decorated with werewolves, mermaids, vampires and unicorns darting around them above texts describing what they were.
It was a room full of old and curious things, apparently collected from places all around the world. The owner had an eye for ancient objects dealing with Dark subjects – a death mask from Africa stood in one corner which Hermione, on seeing, poked them in the arm and hissed that it was one of eighteen famed for being enchanted. As the noise rose, people chattering over objects they'd spotted, the door opened once more, and the professor entered.
He wore mossy-green robes, plain and old-looking, as if he couldn't afford any better ones but they were neat and clean. They swirled around him as he walked toward his desk, placed a bag on top of it, and dug around in it, ignoring the excited students. Now that they had a better look at him it was easier to see what he was like.
His sandy hair, much the same colour as Georgia's, was thinning on top, a small patch balding. It was longish, straggling around his face as if it needed cutting. Freckles dotted his hands and face, and as he pulled out an object triumphantly, and stood up, they saw that heavy eyebrows gave character to his mild face. He smiled at them almost timidly.
"Good morning, class," he said. His voice was pleasant, not rich, exactly, but nice to listen to, and easily heard.
"Can anyone tell me what this is?" he asked, holding it up in his right hand. It was a large amber stone, on a leather thong. Harry squinted to look at it better, but immediately, Hermione put her hand up.
"It's an amulet, Professor. That one comes from Africa, used to ward off zombies," she said very fast. They looked at the teacher, waiting for his reaction. A gentle smile crossed his face.
"Very good, miss-" he congratulated, pausing for Hermione's response to his question. "Five points to Gryffindor. This term we will look at ways of warding off Dark magic. Amulets are one way, a fairly primitive idea but effective if used correctly. Can anyone give me another way?"
"What about rowan?" Seams Finnagan wanted to know. "Me mam won't let it grow in the garden, she says it's harmful to wizards and witches." Professor Reynolds nodded gravely.
"That's a common idea, what was your name?" Seamus told him, and the teacher continued. "Rowan is considered 'witches' bane' today based on the Celtic idea. It originates possibly in Ireland as a conception, and if faith is strong enough, it can have effect." They looked confused, and the teacher hurried on.
"What I mean is," he smiled at them, "If you have belief in something, a belief which you passionately believe in, the power of your mind can have a profound effect. It's a common muggle idea, that a patient suffering from illness can convince themselves that they feel better, and thus do get better. The belief in rowan is strengthened by the power of the mind – those who do believe in it would add to any defensive property it had and they are the ones who continue the idea of rowan as defensive magic. Do you see my point?"
Hermione nodded, as did several others. Harry thought it through, then nodded also. It was an interesting idea.
"So what about other defensive magic, Professor?" Parvati Patil asked curiously, seated beside Seamus. She was one of few girls still in the Gryffindor DADA class. "If rowan only works because people believe in it, then why does other magic work? If it's all in the mind, surely it only works because people believe in that, too?"
Professor Reynolds' smile broadened, and he pointed to her. "That, ten points to Gryffindor," he declared. "You've hit upon it. Magic, when people look at it, is very difficult to contemplate. Why does it work? What makes it work the way it works, and not another way? And furthermore, does defensive magic work because it is defensive magic, or is it not simply the power of suggestion that makes our magic work a different way? All these questions are very difficult, no-one has really answered them in the study of magic across the years, and I certainly don't expect my sixth years to do so! But – questioning the way we think is a very good thing to carry through life, particularly at the moment."
His face grew sombre. "You-Know-Who relies upon knowledge of how people think and react. If we change that, and Aurors do act differently to throw dark wizards off, he does not gain the advantage."
Hermione put up her hand, and asked, thoughtfully, "Sir, if the retaliation to magic is in the mind, then what about the threat itself? If we didn't believe in magic, and said that its effect wouldn't harm us, why wouldn't it fall apart like defensive magic?"
For a moment, Professor Reynolds looked happy, and bright, and then his face seemed to close, and tighten until he was expressionless. He glared at Hermione angrily.
"This is theory only, Miss Granger," he snapped. "Magic does exist and is extremely powerful and dangerous in the wrong hands." He stopped, and as Harry watched, a faint spark of panic entered his eyes. The teacher cleared his throat, and collected himself, looking rather apologetic.
"We'd best move on," he declared. "Now, this first term we will discuss preventative magic, the Easter term we shall move on to discuss counter- curses and jinxs, which are legal and which are not and why, what merits the term 'defensive' magic and why, and so on. In the summer term, we'll move on to study some famous examples, when the Unforgivables became illegal, the Auror system we have in place, and what problems we face. The final exam will cover a lot of what you already know, Dark creatures, spells you've learnt and so forth, so I think we'll revise that lot towards the end of the year, but plenty of continued practise."
He moved on, leaving the three bewildered at his unpredictable changes of mood. Hermione seemed angry at him.
"If he can't handle someone following on from a perfectly reasonable point in his theories, he shouldn't bring them up," she muttered darkly, shifting her books around to get out her quill and parchment. Ron and Harry exchanged glances across the table, and silently did the same.
/
A/N: Next chapter, Georgia joins the Gryffindors for Herbology, with the other 'Professor' Reynolds, and the Slytherins cause a lot of trouble.
So Georgia is back. –edit after chapter write. Or maybe she's not...
/
"I can't believe he did that!" Ron fumed, slinging his quill into his bag in a fit of bad temper, and accidentally breaking the nib. "Oh no, Mum'll kill me. That's the second quill that's happened to."
"Well, we did expect it," Harry answered gloomily. An entire lesson at the end of Snape's biting sarcasm was a direct result of knowing a little more about Snape than the Potions Master wanted them to. The little occurance with Legilimency last year had given Harry an insight into the bitter man, whether he wanted it or not. Even that, though, Harry reasoned, wasn't enough to stop him loathing the man whose preconceptions had aided Voldemort to kill everyone he'd had as close family.
"So how many points did we lose?" he asked, quickly changing the subject before his mind drifted off the point. Ron totted them up on his fingers, his lips moving as he counted under his breath. He looked doleful.
"Enough."
"What's next?" Harry inquired, trying to lighten the mood. Ron inspected the bit of parchment that had the class schedule on it. "We've both got Defence Against the Dark Arts, haven't we?"
"Yes," Ron replied, stuffing the parchment back in his bag with a grin. "Professor Reynolds. Hah, wonder how Malfoy's going to take being taught by a Muggle teacher?" he looked almost gleeful at the prospect. Harry felt rather guilty; Malfoy's habit of making life difficult for the teachers he didn't particularly like had always been a problem.
"At least we don't have Malfoy in lessons," he reminded Ron. At that point, Hermione caught up with them from Professor Vector's class, and the three proceeded to Defence Against the Dark Arts.
/
They found seats fairly close to the front, looking around the classroom. It had changed many times in the past, from large portraits of Lockheart on the walls to Umbridge's foul kittens, and now it was very different.
Shelves of books stood against the walls, their spines green, red, blue and black, bound in shabby leather. Newer books clustered around the desk at the front, piles of books on the floor and tables. There were some pictures on the walls – an Eastern-looking tapestry rug hung in one corner, and some illuminations from old books were framed around the walls; large letters decorated with werewolves, mermaids, vampires and unicorns darting around them above texts describing what they were.
It was a room full of old and curious things, apparently collected from places all around the world. The owner had an eye for ancient objects dealing with Dark subjects – a death mask from Africa stood in one corner which Hermione, on seeing, poked them in the arm and hissed that it was one of eighteen famed for being enchanted. As the noise rose, people chattering over objects they'd spotted, the door opened once more, and the professor entered.
He wore mossy-green robes, plain and old-looking, as if he couldn't afford any better ones but they were neat and clean. They swirled around him as he walked toward his desk, placed a bag on top of it, and dug around in it, ignoring the excited students. Now that they had a better look at him it was easier to see what he was like.
His sandy hair, much the same colour as Georgia's, was thinning on top, a small patch balding. It was longish, straggling around his face as if it needed cutting. Freckles dotted his hands and face, and as he pulled out an object triumphantly, and stood up, they saw that heavy eyebrows gave character to his mild face. He smiled at them almost timidly.
"Good morning, class," he said. His voice was pleasant, not rich, exactly, but nice to listen to, and easily heard.
"Can anyone tell me what this is?" he asked, holding it up in his right hand. It was a large amber stone, on a leather thong. Harry squinted to look at it better, but immediately, Hermione put her hand up.
"It's an amulet, Professor. That one comes from Africa, used to ward off zombies," she said very fast. They looked at the teacher, waiting for his reaction. A gentle smile crossed his face.
"Very good, miss-" he congratulated, pausing for Hermione's response to his question. "Five points to Gryffindor. This term we will look at ways of warding off Dark magic. Amulets are one way, a fairly primitive idea but effective if used correctly. Can anyone give me another way?"
"What about rowan?" Seams Finnagan wanted to know. "Me mam won't let it grow in the garden, she says it's harmful to wizards and witches." Professor Reynolds nodded gravely.
"That's a common idea, what was your name?" Seamus told him, and the teacher continued. "Rowan is considered 'witches' bane' today based on the Celtic idea. It originates possibly in Ireland as a conception, and if faith is strong enough, it can have effect." They looked confused, and the teacher hurried on.
"What I mean is," he smiled at them, "If you have belief in something, a belief which you passionately believe in, the power of your mind can have a profound effect. It's a common muggle idea, that a patient suffering from illness can convince themselves that they feel better, and thus do get better. The belief in rowan is strengthened by the power of the mind – those who do believe in it would add to any defensive property it had and they are the ones who continue the idea of rowan as defensive magic. Do you see my point?"
Hermione nodded, as did several others. Harry thought it through, then nodded also. It was an interesting idea.
"So what about other defensive magic, Professor?" Parvati Patil asked curiously, seated beside Seamus. She was one of few girls still in the Gryffindor DADA class. "If rowan only works because people believe in it, then why does other magic work? If it's all in the mind, surely it only works because people believe in that, too?"
Professor Reynolds' smile broadened, and he pointed to her. "That, ten points to Gryffindor," he declared. "You've hit upon it. Magic, when people look at it, is very difficult to contemplate. Why does it work? What makes it work the way it works, and not another way? And furthermore, does defensive magic work because it is defensive magic, or is it not simply the power of suggestion that makes our magic work a different way? All these questions are very difficult, no-one has really answered them in the study of magic across the years, and I certainly don't expect my sixth years to do so! But – questioning the way we think is a very good thing to carry through life, particularly at the moment."
His face grew sombre. "You-Know-Who relies upon knowledge of how people think and react. If we change that, and Aurors do act differently to throw dark wizards off, he does not gain the advantage."
Hermione put up her hand, and asked, thoughtfully, "Sir, if the retaliation to magic is in the mind, then what about the threat itself? If we didn't believe in magic, and said that its effect wouldn't harm us, why wouldn't it fall apart like defensive magic?"
For a moment, Professor Reynolds looked happy, and bright, and then his face seemed to close, and tighten until he was expressionless. He glared at Hermione angrily.
"This is theory only, Miss Granger," he snapped. "Magic does exist and is extremely powerful and dangerous in the wrong hands." He stopped, and as Harry watched, a faint spark of panic entered his eyes. The teacher cleared his throat, and collected himself, looking rather apologetic.
"We'd best move on," he declared. "Now, this first term we will discuss preventative magic, the Easter term we shall move on to discuss counter- curses and jinxs, which are legal and which are not and why, what merits the term 'defensive' magic and why, and so on. In the summer term, we'll move on to study some famous examples, when the Unforgivables became illegal, the Auror system we have in place, and what problems we face. The final exam will cover a lot of what you already know, Dark creatures, spells you've learnt and so forth, so I think we'll revise that lot towards the end of the year, but plenty of continued practise."
He moved on, leaving the three bewildered at his unpredictable changes of mood. Hermione seemed angry at him.
"If he can't handle someone following on from a perfectly reasonable point in his theories, he shouldn't bring them up," she muttered darkly, shifting her books around to get out her quill and parchment. Ron and Harry exchanged glances across the table, and silently did the same.
/
A/N: Next chapter, Georgia joins the Gryffindors for Herbology, with the other 'Professor' Reynolds, and the Slytherins cause a lot of trouble.