Fortunately, with so much to distract him, two weeks absolutely flew past
in a blur of classes, homework, Quidditch practice, DA meetings, and two
sets of Occlumency lessons. Harry thought for sure that he'd go mad before
the end of the year. How had Hermione done it third year?
"With a Time-Turner," he reminded himself.
What he wouldn't give to borrow one of those...he had a feeling though, that Professor McGonagall would be far less likely to indulge his request for one, knowing his reputation for trouble...
Occlumency with Snape was becoming especially onerous. If anything, Snape was worse now. He'd stopped the smirking and the snide comments, but preferred instead to make his probing attacks into Harry's past fiercer and fiercer. Every time Harry felt as though he were getting better at shutting Snape out, it seemed he stepped up the strength of his attacks, and became increasingly adept at locating especially painful or embarrassing memories. Harry always left Snape's office feeling woozy and exhausted.
By far though, the most interesting classes during those two weeks were Care of Magical Creatures.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had trudged over to Hagrid's hut with the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione having another row, as usual. Harry was only dimly aware of their bickering – he'd gotten quite adept at tuning it out, probably due to his Occlumency lessons, he had to begrudgingly admit. All the rest of the Gryffindors had formed a tight knot around them, shooting evil glares at the Slytherins as they walked by.
"Mornin'!" Hagrid roared cheerfully, as they arrived at the homely Gamekeeper's Hut.
Harry had seen quite a bit in his short lifetime, and it was rather difficult to surprise him. But he reflected, after he'd stopped short and several other students had plowed into his back, that Hagrid had certainly managed it.
Hagrid was sitting on his front steps, one ankle slung casually over his knee, across from Professor Lupin, while Firenze stood calmly sipping a mug of tea that Hagrid had offered. To top it off, Griphook, the goblin from Gringott's bank stood slightly off to the side, apparently having scowlingly declined his tea, one hand clutching his pocketwatch. From Hagrid's ruddy complexion (and the fact that Lupin didn't seem to have drunk any of his), Harry had a feeling there was a bit more than tea in those mugs.
"Righ'!" Hagrid continued cheerfully, in a voice just a bit-too-loud-for- class, "Thought we'd 'ave a bit of a chat today...sort of a round discussion."
"Round table discussion," Lupin corrected, almost inaudibly. He caught Harry's eye and gave him a wink.
"Righ'!" Hagrid said, totally unfazed, "One o' those. Abou' the Ministry of Magic, and their Beast an' Being divisions, an' all their laws an' whatnot."
"Oh!" Hermione gasped quietly, and Harry saw that her eyes were dancing.
"Now!" Hagrid said, wagging a beefy finger at his students, "Oo's done their readin' in Fantastic Beasts?"
Hermione's hand shot up.
"Righ'! 'Ermione, o'course," Hagrid said with another wink, "Knew you would've. Now, wha' can you tell us abou' the Beast and Being Divisions?"
"We've already covered this," came a snotty drawl from the back of the class. Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing there, still sporting the faint trace of a black eye.
"In Defense. We talked about it for [I]half the class[/I] with the werewolf," Draco said snidely.
"Tha's [I]Professor[/I] Lupin," Hagrid growled, uncrossing his legs as though making to stand, "An' you'd do well to mind yer manners when we 'ave guests..."
"It's fine, Hagrid," Lupin said, placing what was, comparatively, a tiny hand on Hagrid's knee.
"We had been hoping, Mr. Malfoy, to go into the subject in more depth today. That is, of course, if it's alright with you?" Lupin asked coolly, the faintest hint of mocking in his voice. The Gryffindors chuckled to themselves.
"Waste of bloody time," Malfoy muttered under his breath. Harry's blood began to boil.
"You're lucky you're even here," Harry thought murderously, "You're lucky Ron and I don't—"
"Now!" Hagrid bellowed, his former half-drunken cheer returned, "Why don' we get back to it, then?"
"It would certainly be advisable," Griphook the goblin said, checking his pocketwatch and taking no pains to disguise his displeasure, "I [I]am[/I] taking time away from the bank to be here today, Hagrid."
"Righ', sorry," Hagrid said hurriedly, "Errr...Firenze, why don' you start us off?"
"Of course," Firenze said in his sonorous, dignified voice, "Who amongst you knows whether centaurs are in the Beast or the Being Division?"
No one answered. Harry felt a bit uncomfortable – it seemed awfully pretentious of the Ministry to try and decide whether Firenze was a "Beast" or a "Being." Even Hermione didn't raise her hand. Malfoy, however, seemed to know the answer.
"Beasts," he said abruptly, "The centaurs are considered by the Ministry of Magic to be [I]beasts.[/I]"
Hagrid again seemed as though he was going to stand, but Lupin simply patted his knee again.
"You've gotten close to the mark, Mr. Malfoy, but as usual, your own prejudices make you blind to the truth," Firenze said calmly. There was no hint of anger or recrimination – and it made Malfoy look like an absolute git. He must have realized it, because he scowled, and developed a sudden interest in the grass at his feet.
Harry was secretly impressed – he now understood what McGonagall had been telling him about keeping his temper. If only he could be more like Firenze...
"Please, sir?" Hermione said, raising her hand, "The Ministry invited centaurs into the Being Division in 1811, but they refused."
"Refused!" Ron said, surprised, "Why?"
"Because it is not for human wizards to define a centaur," Firenze said, and for the first time, Harry heard a hard edge underneath his implacable calm, "Because it is not for the Ministry to pick and choose between the races, deciding which should have access to the same rights we all deserve. And most importantly, because we centaurs feel that there is no shame in being a Beast...that there is honor and dignity in every living thing, and that all should be afforded respect from the wizarding community."
"Hear, hear!" Lupin said, with a warm smile.
Hermione got a strange look on her face, and raised her hand.
"'Ermione?" Hagrid said, pleased.
"Out of curiosity, where do merpeople fall?"
"Beast," Firenze said, calmly, "Again, out of their own choosing."
"And werewolves?"
"Ah, now I can field that," Lupin said pleasantly, and several of the Gryffindors laughed. Malfoy cursed under his breath, and kicked up a divot of dirt in his temper.
"There are currently two Departments for Werewolves at the Ministry," Lupin said, "The Registry and Capture Unit is in the Beast Division, while the Werewolf Support Services office is in the Being Division. You can guess which I feel is most effective," Lupin said darkly. Several Gryffindors laughed uncomfortably.
"It's not a laughing matter," Firenze said calmly, "Many werewolves, after being repeatedly detained, subjected to unnecessary brutality during capture, interrogation, discriminatory legislation – they become bitter. They begin to hate humanity, and think of themselves as separate beings – the disjoint between their super-human, physical superiority and their day- to-day subjugation becomes more and more intolerable. They stop taking precautions. People have been hurt. Both werewolf and human alike."
Harry felt abashed. The class had gone very quiet.
"It's alright, Firenze" Lupin said a bit embarassed, "I'm sure they didn't mean anything...They just hadn't thought about it before."
"That," Firenze said calmly, "Is the most frequent complaint our kind have with the wizarding community as a whole."
Hermione had raised her hand again.
"Please sir...where do vampires fall?" she added casually.
"Ah!" Hagrid said, his eyes lighting up, "Now [I]tha's[/I] a good question! Wasn' there jus' some new legislation, Pr'fessor Lupin, the one tha—"
"Yes," Lupin said, interrupting him, "But the Ministry's general policy for the past fifty years or so is not to interfere with vampires, just the same as they tend to ignore centaurs and merpeople for the most part."
"Is my presence here entirely necessary?" Griphook asked, this time holding his watch up for Hagrid to see.
"Blimey! Sorry, Griphook, fergot you was there!" Hagrid said cheerfully. From the look on Griphook's face, Harry surmised this was about the worst thing Hagrid could have said.
"Please, take the floor," Firenze said, stepping back.
For a while, Griphook lectured them on the goblin wars, and their struggles against prejudice in the wizarding community – Harry thought he recognized some of it from History of Magic, but he was also surprised to hear that their involvement in banking wasn't limited to Gringott's long history – apparently they had been moneylenders to wizards since the Renaissance, if not earlier. They had therefore been falsely depicted as sneering, scheming, money-grubbing degenerates, which led to great discrimination and prejudice from the wizarding community throughout history, even leading to goblin lynchings, and systematized extermination of goblin communities, especially during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
"It has been the cause of much discord between our races. If we express our anger, we are seen as bitter. If we ingratiate ourselves, we are seen as self-effacing, servile. If we express our pain, we are seen as weak, whinging...seeking attention and special treatment from the wizarding community."
"Magism is like the bars of a birdcage," Lupin added, "No matter where you turn, no matter what you do, there is an equal and opposite bar in your way."
"It's like, 'Yer damned if'n ye do, an' yer damned if'n ye don''" Hagrid added, nodding wisely.
"We are mistreated by human wizards," Griphook said, "Because we remind them that 'humanity' is not the sole property of humans," Griphook said.
"The very word is offensive," Firenze said, pawing the ground.
"What, 'humanity?'" asked Dean uncomfortably.
"Because it defines having a soul as strictly human," Firenze said sternly, "It's blatantly magist. The centaurs, like many others, do not wish to be considered as 'partly human' because we have souls, or because we are somewhat similar in appearance. We are Beasts, and proud to be so."
"'Yet if you prick us, do we not bleed?' " Lupin quoted with a slight smile. All three non-humans chuckled dryly under their breath, as though they really didn't think this was funny at all.
"Righ'," Hagrid said, noting the students' confused expressions, "Tha's sort of an in-joke between non-humans...Lupin, why don' you tell 'em about it?"
Lupin gave Hagrid a startled look. Harry thought that even Firenze seemed surprised, though it was hard to read his impassive expression.
"I'm not sure..." Lupin said, eyeing the students out of the corner of his eye.
"They're alrigh'," Hagrid said, "They're sixth years now...Migh' as well know how the world works."
Lupin nodded and cleared his throat, "Well, in the mid-sixties, there was a rather highly publicized trial of a werewolf...Murder trial. He'd tied himself up before the full moon, but had somehow clawed himself free, and run amok. Now, at that time, the Werewolf Capture Unit was at the height of corruption. They hated werewolves with a passion, and were less concerned with detaining them than with beating them within an inch of their lives," Lupin said.
Harry was surprised to hear the anger in Lupin's voice, and a little frightened – Lupin seldom got angry. Hagrid was nodding with a concentrated scowl, his bearded chin tucked nearly to his chest.
"Well, this night they took it a bit too far. And the werewolf in question killed one of the wizards on the Werewolf Capture Unit."
"Self defense!" Hagrid bellowed, and the class jumped a bit, "They were murderin' 'im!"
"Part of his defense," Lupin continued sadly, looking over them as though seeing into the past, "Was that the Capture Unit had been baiting him, that a lot of the blood found at the scene was his own. The judge, unconvinced, wondered whether werewolves even [I]could[/I] bleed, once they had transformed."
Lupin drew a slow breath, "He looked the judge right in the eye, he stood up, and he said...well, you know. As you can imagine," Lupin continued briskly, "It was quite a day for the entire wizarding world, and briefly became something of a cultural phenomenon. It was simultaneously a challenge and a rallying call to the entire wizard community, human and non- human alike – wake up, take notice."
He paused, "I had just gotten the bite myself, and I was terrified – My parents explained it to me, and I watched it on the front page of the Daily Prophet, over and over...He was...the angriest...and the saddest man I'd ever seen. I still have it tucked away in my papers somewhere."
Harry recognized his gentle, pained smile – it was the same reminiscent expression he had whenever he talked of Sirius, or his parents – part happy, part sad.
"I was just a colt," Firenze said calmly, "I overheard our herd Elders debating whether or not to get involved. When I had to choose whether or not to leave my herd, it was one of the reasons I chose to come teach at Hogwarts."
"I was there," Griphook said. The other professors turned to look at him, surprised, "Our local Goblin Tellers Union went to the courthouse in protest."
Harry was impressed – he'd never imagined that all the non-human magical Beings had ever been so united in a common goal. He thought of the Fountain of Magical Bretheren at the Ministry, thought how crestfallen Cornelius Fudge had been to see it shattered and toppled. Harry had a feeling it wasn't just the fountain that Fudge saw crumbling.
"You have to understand – it was a different time," Lupin said, a vague smile on his face, "It was the late sixties – the whole world was changing, the magical one as well. It suddenly seemed that social progress was really possible...groups throughout the magical world were uniting."
"What happened?" Harry asked, "Did the werewolf get off?"
They all heaved a collective sigh.
"The judge, it seems, had a sense of irony," Lupin said, slowly. He paused, and his brow furrowed, as though he didn't want to tell them, "He told him that in light of his unusual defense, he was issuing an unusual sentence. He could either serve a life sentence in Azkaban, or cut off a pound of his own flesh."
Hermione gasped out loud, along with several other students, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike.
"He never intended him to actually do it," Lupin added hurriedly, "It was just his response to that particular quote. The Merchant of Venice, of course. He'd been embarrassed, so he took what he'd said, and flung it back at him. No, it was the nature of it...Cruel. Unsympathetic. He died in Azkaban, just a few months later."
The whole class was quiet. Even Malfoy seemed to have stopped ignoring the conversation.
"But it wasn't his fault!" Hermione shouted, visibly shaken, "A werewolf can't help what he does once he transforms!"
"Ah, and that defense has been used for hundreds of years," Lupin said, "The problem is, most courts find that it is the werewolf's responsibility to take adequate precautions regarding his condition. And I happen to agree with that ruling," he added as an afterthought.
"But the evidence in this case was problematic. When the rope was examined further, it was found that it hadn't been randomly torn to shreds, as it first seemed...all the lengths of rope were equal. That means the rope was severed in one place, and one place only...not in five places."
"So what?" Draco asked, "What's so important about five places?"
Lupin held up his fist, and one by one unclenched his fingers.
"One, two, three, four, five." There was a long pause. "The rope was cut, but not by the claws of a werewolf."
"So maybe he only used one claw!" Draco said argumentatively.
"It is not in the nature of a werewolf to be [I]precise,[/I] Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said coldly, "Particularly not when angered."
"So that means the werewolf hadn't escaped at all!" Hermione shouted angrily, "Someone freed him!"
"And once he was free," Harry said, with a sinking feeling, "The Capture Unit had the right to kill him."
"So who set him free?" Ron asked.
"Nobody knows. Some suspected that the Capture Unit freed him themselves. Some suspect it was an enemy of the man who was murdered, but that's doubtful," Lupin said, shaking his head, "After all, there was no way of telling who the werewolf would attack. The real tragedy is that this was all brought to light after the trial. And of course, it was too late for an appeal," he added darkly, "The dementors made sure of that."
There was long pause. Harry could tell they were all thinking the same thing. How could such a thing happen? Who would allow it? And could it happen again today?
"But, it [I]has[/I] gotten better," Lupin said, forcing himself to sound brighter, "Shortly after, concerned wizards started the Werewolf Support Services, and the centaurs and merpeople were reinvited to join the Being division."
"We, of course, continued to refuse," Firenze said calmly, "But the gesture was appreciated, if misguided."
"It's not as idyllic as we'd hoped...And again, we find the wizarding community divided on itself. But that's where you all come in, we hope," Lupin finished brightly, "I suppose that's why Professor Hagrid invited us all today."
"In case you were wondering," Griphook said, holding up his pocketwatch, "We've run over. By quite a bit."
"Blimey!" Hagrid said, spilling his tea in his alarm, "Off with ye, off with ye! Run along! Or I'll 'ave to write you all excuses!"
"You know, that's not a half-bad idea," Ron said eagerly, but Hermione and Harry were already tugging at his sleeves.
Later, Harry discussed the lesson with Hermione and Ron.
"Maybe that's it," Harry murmured excitedly, trying to lean in close and walk without bumping into them, "Maybe that's the Divide Lupin was talking about that he wants me to heal."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Maybe, Harry. But it could be the Divide between the houses – I think that's much more likely."
"Or the Divide between you and You Know Who," Ron added.
"Hmm...that's more like a connection, really," Hermione said thoughtfully, then quickly corrected herself at a baleful glance from Harry, "Well, a sort of connection. Partly a Divide, really."
"Well, the real point is, [I]how?[/I]" Ron asked, "Whatever he's supposed to be doing, it all sounds pretty impossible. How is Harry supposed to...what is it...'heal' any of them?"
Harry was quiet – that was an awfully good question, and it caused the knot in his stomach (which had become a nearly permanent fixture ever since the start of the school year) to tighten uncomfortably.
"Maybe I should start by healing the Divide between you two," Harry joked, diverting the subject, "Or have you already asked each other to the Halloween Ball?"
"Of course we haven't [I]asked[/I] each other," Hermione said, as Ron turned scarlet, "I just assumed we were all going together!"
"I dunno," Harry said teasingly, "What if Ron already has a date?"
"What do you mean, 'what if?'" Ron asked indignantly, "And when did this 'party' suddenly become a 'Ball'?"
"Do you, then?"
"Of course not, but it's the principle of the thing..."
"Well if he did, I wouldn't care in the slightest," Hermione said, with her patented sneaking-in-the-corners smile. Harry took a moment to drink her in. She had a way of smiling that made you feel she knew a secret. She looked different, somehow, even just from last year. More confident...way more relaxed. She was actually quite beautiful.
"I love this person," Harry thought quietly.
Harry jerked his head away abruptly, and a he felt a dull flutter of panic.
"What the hell was that?" he asked himself anxiously.
"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously, "You just did this funny jerky thing with your head."
"Funny jerky thing?" Harry asked, chuckling nervously.
"I know," Ron said chucking Harry in the ribs with his elbow, "You were thinking who [I]you[/I] would want to ask, weren't you?"
Harry felt his face go red, and the knot in his stomach tied itself into several bows.
"Not good," he thought, "Not good. Not good."
"That [I]is[/I] it!" Hermione said laughing delightedly, her white teeth sparkling. She shoved him into Ron, "I bet I know who it is!"
"I bet I do too," Ron said with a grin.
"Hi Harry!"
Harry looked up. Ginny Weasley was pushing a strand of her vivid red hair behind her ear, and clutching her bookbag with her other hand, having just run up to meet them. She was smiling vaguely, and her freckled nose crinkled in confusion.
"What's so funny?"
Harry turned and saw Hermione arching her eyebrows in that superior, "I know everything" way, and Ron was grinning at him like an idiot.
Harry felt his heart sink straight down to the soles of his feet.
What else could possibly go wrong this year?
But he already knew what he had to do.
"Ginny..." Harry asked tentatively, "We were just...talking about Halloween."
"Oh, really?" Ginny asked, suddenly looking down at her feet coyly. Harry felt a surge of annoyance. Since when was Ginny Weasley shy?
"Not since first year," he realized with a sinking feeling, "When she had a crush on me."
Did Ron [I]really[/I] have to keep grinning like a baboon? Harry kept hearing Fred and George in his head, singing "His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad."
No. He'd put his friends through enough already.
"We're all going in a gang," Harry said finally, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible, "If you want to come with us?"
Ginny looked a little surprised for a moment, but then she beamed, "Yeah, of course! Well," she added casually, "I figured I'd see you guys there anyway."
"Yeah," Harry said, "I imagine the whole school's going to be there." He knew it wasn't what she was hoping for, but it was the best he could do right now. It would be cruel to promise more.
"Though, we can't stay too late, of course," Ginny said, a bit of her old spunky self coming back to the fore, "First match with Slytherin's the day after."
"Right," Harry said dully. As if he didn't have enough on his mind.
"What is wrong with them?" Harry asked himself angrily, "I mean, [I]Ginny Weasley?[/I] She's just a [I]kid![/I]"
"Maybe that's all you've ever seen," said a familiar, nasty little voice in his head, "Because that's all you wanted to see. Besides, what's wrong with [I]you[/I]? Hermione is already a better friend than you deserve – and so is Ron for that matter. Are you willing to ruin that forever? Do you want to break Ginny's heart? How much do you want? Just how selfish are you?"
He suddenly realized it was the same voice that had tortured him all summer – he felt guilty. He'd done something wrong...very wrong. He didn't even know for sure what was happening to him, but he knew it was bad, and it was his fault. And now he had to do something right.
Ginny was grinning up at him, her head cocked coquettishly to one side. Harry resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.
"Sounds great," he said, forcing what he hoped was a warm smile. Ginny blushed and smiled back. Hermione was beaming. Ron continued to grin like an idiot.
"Great," Harry thought, his heart shrinking, "So long as everyone's happy."
"With a Time-Turner," he reminded himself.
What he wouldn't give to borrow one of those...he had a feeling though, that Professor McGonagall would be far less likely to indulge his request for one, knowing his reputation for trouble...
Occlumency with Snape was becoming especially onerous. If anything, Snape was worse now. He'd stopped the smirking and the snide comments, but preferred instead to make his probing attacks into Harry's past fiercer and fiercer. Every time Harry felt as though he were getting better at shutting Snape out, it seemed he stepped up the strength of his attacks, and became increasingly adept at locating especially painful or embarrassing memories. Harry always left Snape's office feeling woozy and exhausted.
By far though, the most interesting classes during those two weeks were Care of Magical Creatures.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had trudged over to Hagrid's hut with the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione having another row, as usual. Harry was only dimly aware of their bickering – he'd gotten quite adept at tuning it out, probably due to his Occlumency lessons, he had to begrudgingly admit. All the rest of the Gryffindors had formed a tight knot around them, shooting evil glares at the Slytherins as they walked by.
"Mornin'!" Hagrid roared cheerfully, as they arrived at the homely Gamekeeper's Hut.
Harry had seen quite a bit in his short lifetime, and it was rather difficult to surprise him. But he reflected, after he'd stopped short and several other students had plowed into his back, that Hagrid had certainly managed it.
Hagrid was sitting on his front steps, one ankle slung casually over his knee, across from Professor Lupin, while Firenze stood calmly sipping a mug of tea that Hagrid had offered. To top it off, Griphook, the goblin from Gringott's bank stood slightly off to the side, apparently having scowlingly declined his tea, one hand clutching his pocketwatch. From Hagrid's ruddy complexion (and the fact that Lupin didn't seem to have drunk any of his), Harry had a feeling there was a bit more than tea in those mugs.
"Righ'!" Hagrid continued cheerfully, in a voice just a bit-too-loud-for- class, "Thought we'd 'ave a bit of a chat today...sort of a round discussion."
"Round table discussion," Lupin corrected, almost inaudibly. He caught Harry's eye and gave him a wink.
"Righ'!" Hagrid said, totally unfazed, "One o' those. Abou' the Ministry of Magic, and their Beast an' Being divisions, an' all their laws an' whatnot."
"Oh!" Hermione gasped quietly, and Harry saw that her eyes were dancing.
"Now!" Hagrid said, wagging a beefy finger at his students, "Oo's done their readin' in Fantastic Beasts?"
Hermione's hand shot up.
"Righ'! 'Ermione, o'course," Hagrid said with another wink, "Knew you would've. Now, wha' can you tell us abou' the Beast and Being Divisions?"
"We've already covered this," came a snotty drawl from the back of the class. Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing there, still sporting the faint trace of a black eye.
"In Defense. We talked about it for [I]half the class[/I] with the werewolf," Draco said snidely.
"Tha's [I]Professor[/I] Lupin," Hagrid growled, uncrossing his legs as though making to stand, "An' you'd do well to mind yer manners when we 'ave guests..."
"It's fine, Hagrid," Lupin said, placing what was, comparatively, a tiny hand on Hagrid's knee.
"We had been hoping, Mr. Malfoy, to go into the subject in more depth today. That is, of course, if it's alright with you?" Lupin asked coolly, the faintest hint of mocking in his voice. The Gryffindors chuckled to themselves.
"Waste of bloody time," Malfoy muttered under his breath. Harry's blood began to boil.
"You're lucky you're even here," Harry thought murderously, "You're lucky Ron and I don't—"
"Now!" Hagrid bellowed, his former half-drunken cheer returned, "Why don' we get back to it, then?"
"It would certainly be advisable," Griphook the goblin said, checking his pocketwatch and taking no pains to disguise his displeasure, "I [I]am[/I] taking time away from the bank to be here today, Hagrid."
"Righ', sorry," Hagrid said hurriedly, "Errr...Firenze, why don' you start us off?"
"Of course," Firenze said in his sonorous, dignified voice, "Who amongst you knows whether centaurs are in the Beast or the Being Division?"
No one answered. Harry felt a bit uncomfortable – it seemed awfully pretentious of the Ministry to try and decide whether Firenze was a "Beast" or a "Being." Even Hermione didn't raise her hand. Malfoy, however, seemed to know the answer.
"Beasts," he said abruptly, "The centaurs are considered by the Ministry of Magic to be [I]beasts.[/I]"
Hagrid again seemed as though he was going to stand, but Lupin simply patted his knee again.
"You've gotten close to the mark, Mr. Malfoy, but as usual, your own prejudices make you blind to the truth," Firenze said calmly. There was no hint of anger or recrimination – and it made Malfoy look like an absolute git. He must have realized it, because he scowled, and developed a sudden interest in the grass at his feet.
Harry was secretly impressed – he now understood what McGonagall had been telling him about keeping his temper. If only he could be more like Firenze...
"Please, sir?" Hermione said, raising her hand, "The Ministry invited centaurs into the Being Division in 1811, but they refused."
"Refused!" Ron said, surprised, "Why?"
"Because it is not for human wizards to define a centaur," Firenze said, and for the first time, Harry heard a hard edge underneath his implacable calm, "Because it is not for the Ministry to pick and choose between the races, deciding which should have access to the same rights we all deserve. And most importantly, because we centaurs feel that there is no shame in being a Beast...that there is honor and dignity in every living thing, and that all should be afforded respect from the wizarding community."
"Hear, hear!" Lupin said, with a warm smile.
Hermione got a strange look on her face, and raised her hand.
"'Ermione?" Hagrid said, pleased.
"Out of curiosity, where do merpeople fall?"
"Beast," Firenze said, calmly, "Again, out of their own choosing."
"And werewolves?"
"Ah, now I can field that," Lupin said pleasantly, and several of the Gryffindors laughed. Malfoy cursed under his breath, and kicked up a divot of dirt in his temper.
"There are currently two Departments for Werewolves at the Ministry," Lupin said, "The Registry and Capture Unit is in the Beast Division, while the Werewolf Support Services office is in the Being Division. You can guess which I feel is most effective," Lupin said darkly. Several Gryffindors laughed uncomfortably.
"It's not a laughing matter," Firenze said calmly, "Many werewolves, after being repeatedly detained, subjected to unnecessary brutality during capture, interrogation, discriminatory legislation – they become bitter. They begin to hate humanity, and think of themselves as separate beings – the disjoint between their super-human, physical superiority and their day- to-day subjugation becomes more and more intolerable. They stop taking precautions. People have been hurt. Both werewolf and human alike."
Harry felt abashed. The class had gone very quiet.
"It's alright, Firenze" Lupin said a bit embarassed, "I'm sure they didn't mean anything...They just hadn't thought about it before."
"That," Firenze said calmly, "Is the most frequent complaint our kind have with the wizarding community as a whole."
Hermione had raised her hand again.
"Please sir...where do vampires fall?" she added casually.
"Ah!" Hagrid said, his eyes lighting up, "Now [I]tha's[/I] a good question! Wasn' there jus' some new legislation, Pr'fessor Lupin, the one tha—"
"Yes," Lupin said, interrupting him, "But the Ministry's general policy for the past fifty years or so is not to interfere with vampires, just the same as they tend to ignore centaurs and merpeople for the most part."
"Is my presence here entirely necessary?" Griphook asked, this time holding his watch up for Hagrid to see.
"Blimey! Sorry, Griphook, fergot you was there!" Hagrid said cheerfully. From the look on Griphook's face, Harry surmised this was about the worst thing Hagrid could have said.
"Please, take the floor," Firenze said, stepping back.
For a while, Griphook lectured them on the goblin wars, and their struggles against prejudice in the wizarding community – Harry thought he recognized some of it from History of Magic, but he was also surprised to hear that their involvement in banking wasn't limited to Gringott's long history – apparently they had been moneylenders to wizards since the Renaissance, if not earlier. They had therefore been falsely depicted as sneering, scheming, money-grubbing degenerates, which led to great discrimination and prejudice from the wizarding community throughout history, even leading to goblin lynchings, and systematized extermination of goblin communities, especially during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
"It has been the cause of much discord between our races. If we express our anger, we are seen as bitter. If we ingratiate ourselves, we are seen as self-effacing, servile. If we express our pain, we are seen as weak, whinging...seeking attention and special treatment from the wizarding community."
"Magism is like the bars of a birdcage," Lupin added, "No matter where you turn, no matter what you do, there is an equal and opposite bar in your way."
"It's like, 'Yer damned if'n ye do, an' yer damned if'n ye don''" Hagrid added, nodding wisely.
"We are mistreated by human wizards," Griphook said, "Because we remind them that 'humanity' is not the sole property of humans," Griphook said.
"The very word is offensive," Firenze said, pawing the ground.
"What, 'humanity?'" asked Dean uncomfortably.
"Because it defines having a soul as strictly human," Firenze said sternly, "It's blatantly magist. The centaurs, like many others, do not wish to be considered as 'partly human' because we have souls, or because we are somewhat similar in appearance. We are Beasts, and proud to be so."
"'Yet if you prick us, do we not bleed?' " Lupin quoted with a slight smile. All three non-humans chuckled dryly under their breath, as though they really didn't think this was funny at all.
"Righ'," Hagrid said, noting the students' confused expressions, "Tha's sort of an in-joke between non-humans...Lupin, why don' you tell 'em about it?"
Lupin gave Hagrid a startled look. Harry thought that even Firenze seemed surprised, though it was hard to read his impassive expression.
"I'm not sure..." Lupin said, eyeing the students out of the corner of his eye.
"They're alrigh'," Hagrid said, "They're sixth years now...Migh' as well know how the world works."
Lupin nodded and cleared his throat, "Well, in the mid-sixties, there was a rather highly publicized trial of a werewolf...Murder trial. He'd tied himself up before the full moon, but had somehow clawed himself free, and run amok. Now, at that time, the Werewolf Capture Unit was at the height of corruption. They hated werewolves with a passion, and were less concerned with detaining them than with beating them within an inch of their lives," Lupin said.
Harry was surprised to hear the anger in Lupin's voice, and a little frightened – Lupin seldom got angry. Hagrid was nodding with a concentrated scowl, his bearded chin tucked nearly to his chest.
"Well, this night they took it a bit too far. And the werewolf in question killed one of the wizards on the Werewolf Capture Unit."
"Self defense!" Hagrid bellowed, and the class jumped a bit, "They were murderin' 'im!"
"Part of his defense," Lupin continued sadly, looking over them as though seeing into the past, "Was that the Capture Unit had been baiting him, that a lot of the blood found at the scene was his own. The judge, unconvinced, wondered whether werewolves even [I]could[/I] bleed, once they had transformed."
Lupin drew a slow breath, "He looked the judge right in the eye, he stood up, and he said...well, you know. As you can imagine," Lupin continued briskly, "It was quite a day for the entire wizarding world, and briefly became something of a cultural phenomenon. It was simultaneously a challenge and a rallying call to the entire wizard community, human and non- human alike – wake up, take notice."
He paused, "I had just gotten the bite myself, and I was terrified – My parents explained it to me, and I watched it on the front page of the Daily Prophet, over and over...He was...the angriest...and the saddest man I'd ever seen. I still have it tucked away in my papers somewhere."
Harry recognized his gentle, pained smile – it was the same reminiscent expression he had whenever he talked of Sirius, or his parents – part happy, part sad.
"I was just a colt," Firenze said calmly, "I overheard our herd Elders debating whether or not to get involved. When I had to choose whether or not to leave my herd, it was one of the reasons I chose to come teach at Hogwarts."
"I was there," Griphook said. The other professors turned to look at him, surprised, "Our local Goblin Tellers Union went to the courthouse in protest."
Harry was impressed – he'd never imagined that all the non-human magical Beings had ever been so united in a common goal. He thought of the Fountain of Magical Bretheren at the Ministry, thought how crestfallen Cornelius Fudge had been to see it shattered and toppled. Harry had a feeling it wasn't just the fountain that Fudge saw crumbling.
"You have to understand – it was a different time," Lupin said, a vague smile on his face, "It was the late sixties – the whole world was changing, the magical one as well. It suddenly seemed that social progress was really possible...groups throughout the magical world were uniting."
"What happened?" Harry asked, "Did the werewolf get off?"
They all heaved a collective sigh.
"The judge, it seems, had a sense of irony," Lupin said, slowly. He paused, and his brow furrowed, as though he didn't want to tell them, "He told him that in light of his unusual defense, he was issuing an unusual sentence. He could either serve a life sentence in Azkaban, or cut off a pound of his own flesh."
Hermione gasped out loud, along with several other students, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike.
"He never intended him to actually do it," Lupin added hurriedly, "It was just his response to that particular quote. The Merchant of Venice, of course. He'd been embarrassed, so he took what he'd said, and flung it back at him. No, it was the nature of it...Cruel. Unsympathetic. He died in Azkaban, just a few months later."
The whole class was quiet. Even Malfoy seemed to have stopped ignoring the conversation.
"But it wasn't his fault!" Hermione shouted, visibly shaken, "A werewolf can't help what he does once he transforms!"
"Ah, and that defense has been used for hundreds of years," Lupin said, "The problem is, most courts find that it is the werewolf's responsibility to take adequate precautions regarding his condition. And I happen to agree with that ruling," he added as an afterthought.
"But the evidence in this case was problematic. When the rope was examined further, it was found that it hadn't been randomly torn to shreds, as it first seemed...all the lengths of rope were equal. That means the rope was severed in one place, and one place only...not in five places."
"So what?" Draco asked, "What's so important about five places?"
Lupin held up his fist, and one by one unclenched his fingers.
"One, two, three, four, five." There was a long pause. "The rope was cut, but not by the claws of a werewolf."
"So maybe he only used one claw!" Draco said argumentatively.
"It is not in the nature of a werewolf to be [I]precise,[/I] Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said coldly, "Particularly not when angered."
"So that means the werewolf hadn't escaped at all!" Hermione shouted angrily, "Someone freed him!"
"And once he was free," Harry said, with a sinking feeling, "The Capture Unit had the right to kill him."
"So who set him free?" Ron asked.
"Nobody knows. Some suspected that the Capture Unit freed him themselves. Some suspect it was an enemy of the man who was murdered, but that's doubtful," Lupin said, shaking his head, "After all, there was no way of telling who the werewolf would attack. The real tragedy is that this was all brought to light after the trial. And of course, it was too late for an appeal," he added darkly, "The dementors made sure of that."
There was long pause. Harry could tell they were all thinking the same thing. How could such a thing happen? Who would allow it? And could it happen again today?
"But, it [I]has[/I] gotten better," Lupin said, forcing himself to sound brighter, "Shortly after, concerned wizards started the Werewolf Support Services, and the centaurs and merpeople were reinvited to join the Being division."
"We, of course, continued to refuse," Firenze said calmly, "But the gesture was appreciated, if misguided."
"It's not as idyllic as we'd hoped...And again, we find the wizarding community divided on itself. But that's where you all come in, we hope," Lupin finished brightly, "I suppose that's why Professor Hagrid invited us all today."
"In case you were wondering," Griphook said, holding up his pocketwatch, "We've run over. By quite a bit."
"Blimey!" Hagrid said, spilling his tea in his alarm, "Off with ye, off with ye! Run along! Or I'll 'ave to write you all excuses!"
"You know, that's not a half-bad idea," Ron said eagerly, but Hermione and Harry were already tugging at his sleeves.
Later, Harry discussed the lesson with Hermione and Ron.
"Maybe that's it," Harry murmured excitedly, trying to lean in close and walk without bumping into them, "Maybe that's the Divide Lupin was talking about that he wants me to heal."
Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Maybe, Harry. But it could be the Divide between the houses – I think that's much more likely."
"Or the Divide between you and You Know Who," Ron added.
"Hmm...that's more like a connection, really," Hermione said thoughtfully, then quickly corrected herself at a baleful glance from Harry, "Well, a sort of connection. Partly a Divide, really."
"Well, the real point is, [I]how?[/I]" Ron asked, "Whatever he's supposed to be doing, it all sounds pretty impossible. How is Harry supposed to...what is it...'heal' any of them?"
Harry was quiet – that was an awfully good question, and it caused the knot in his stomach (which had become a nearly permanent fixture ever since the start of the school year) to tighten uncomfortably.
"Maybe I should start by healing the Divide between you two," Harry joked, diverting the subject, "Or have you already asked each other to the Halloween Ball?"
"Of course we haven't [I]asked[/I] each other," Hermione said, as Ron turned scarlet, "I just assumed we were all going together!"
"I dunno," Harry said teasingly, "What if Ron already has a date?"
"What do you mean, 'what if?'" Ron asked indignantly, "And when did this 'party' suddenly become a 'Ball'?"
"Do you, then?"
"Of course not, but it's the principle of the thing..."
"Well if he did, I wouldn't care in the slightest," Hermione said, with her patented sneaking-in-the-corners smile. Harry took a moment to drink her in. She had a way of smiling that made you feel she knew a secret. She looked different, somehow, even just from last year. More confident...way more relaxed. She was actually quite beautiful.
"I love this person," Harry thought quietly.
Harry jerked his head away abruptly, and a he felt a dull flutter of panic.
"What the hell was that?" he asked himself anxiously.
"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously, "You just did this funny jerky thing with your head."
"Funny jerky thing?" Harry asked, chuckling nervously.
"I know," Ron said chucking Harry in the ribs with his elbow, "You were thinking who [I]you[/I] would want to ask, weren't you?"
Harry felt his face go red, and the knot in his stomach tied itself into several bows.
"Not good," he thought, "Not good. Not good."
"That [I]is[/I] it!" Hermione said laughing delightedly, her white teeth sparkling. She shoved him into Ron, "I bet I know who it is!"
"I bet I do too," Ron said with a grin.
"Hi Harry!"
Harry looked up. Ginny Weasley was pushing a strand of her vivid red hair behind her ear, and clutching her bookbag with her other hand, having just run up to meet them. She was smiling vaguely, and her freckled nose crinkled in confusion.
"What's so funny?"
Harry turned and saw Hermione arching her eyebrows in that superior, "I know everything" way, and Ron was grinning at him like an idiot.
Harry felt his heart sink straight down to the soles of his feet.
What else could possibly go wrong this year?
But he already knew what he had to do.
"Ginny..." Harry asked tentatively, "We were just...talking about Halloween."
"Oh, really?" Ginny asked, suddenly looking down at her feet coyly. Harry felt a surge of annoyance. Since when was Ginny Weasley shy?
"Not since first year," he realized with a sinking feeling, "When she had a crush on me."
Did Ron [I]really[/I] have to keep grinning like a baboon? Harry kept hearing Fred and George in his head, singing "His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad."
No. He'd put his friends through enough already.
"We're all going in a gang," Harry said finally, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible, "If you want to come with us?"
Ginny looked a little surprised for a moment, but then she beamed, "Yeah, of course! Well," she added casually, "I figured I'd see you guys there anyway."
"Yeah," Harry said, "I imagine the whole school's going to be there." He knew it wasn't what she was hoping for, but it was the best he could do right now. It would be cruel to promise more.
"Though, we can't stay too late, of course," Ginny said, a bit of her old spunky self coming back to the fore, "First match with Slytherin's the day after."
"Right," Harry said dully. As if he didn't have enough on his mind.
"What is wrong with them?" Harry asked himself angrily, "I mean, [I]Ginny Weasley?[/I] She's just a [I]kid![/I]"
"Maybe that's all you've ever seen," said a familiar, nasty little voice in his head, "Because that's all you wanted to see. Besides, what's wrong with [I]you[/I]? Hermione is already a better friend than you deserve – and so is Ron for that matter. Are you willing to ruin that forever? Do you want to break Ginny's heart? How much do you want? Just how selfish are you?"
He suddenly realized it was the same voice that had tortured him all summer – he felt guilty. He'd done something wrong...very wrong. He didn't even know for sure what was happening to him, but he knew it was bad, and it was his fault. And now he had to do something right.
Ginny was grinning up at him, her head cocked coquettishly to one side. Harry resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.
"Sounds great," he said, forcing what he hoped was a warm smile. Ginny blushed and smiled back. Hermione was beaming. Ron continued to grin like an idiot.
"Great," Harry thought, his heart shrinking, "So long as everyone's happy."
